Peter Speake-Marin, an Englishman taking Switzerland by storm

In his workshop nestled in the attic of a building in Rolle, watchmaker Peter Speake-Marin is holding a "silent dialogue with the watches" under a zenith light, somewhat akin to the cabinotiers of the 18th century. As though this return to the sources of the solitary craft might explain the appearance of his tourbillon pocket watch. It exudes a mixture of classicism, English charm, a hint of something more personal, more contemporary. Peter Speake-Marin is an Englishman, as one half of his name suggests, who has chosen to rub shoulders with his Swiss peers. And he has been recognised by them as one of theirs: they have accepted him into the highly exclusive Académie Horlogère des Créateurs Indépendants (Horological Academy of Independent Creators). "We are trying to promote him: what he does is formidable", according to the great watchmaker Antoine Preziuso. Peter Speake-Marin is therefore exhibiting alongside them for the very first time this year at the Basel Salon. A fantastic showcase for this young 34-year-old independent watchmaker.

If you took the time to look carefully at each detail of his watch, you could almost trace his professional trajectory in it. Peter Speake-Marin learned his craft in London, at Hackney Technical College, and then at the WOSTEP in Neuchâtel. But his greatest experience was gained during the seven years which he spent restoring vintage clocks at Somlo Antiques in London, near Piccadilly. The most prestigious timepieces in the history of horology passed between his hands: German, English, French timekeepers, ... "I fell in love with these pieces", he confides. 

This was followed by his "Locloise" experience at Renaud & Papi, as part of a team of watchmakers specialising in complications. This particular trajectory is largely reflected in his way of designing timekeepers: it is inspired by culture as much as by acquired experience. "In England, I learned how pieces were made in the early centuries of horology. At Renaud & Papi, I learned how they were made in the last two centuries". 

He chose to become independent for good reasons: the desire to set up "The Watch Workshop", bringing together a group of watchmakers under the one name. "It is the people who make the product and not the name that appears on the dial that is most important", he says. His approach is generous, but a little too candid in a world such as that of watchmaking, as the market rushed to remind him. Because as soon as collectors took one look at his pocket watch, they asked him to engrave his name on it, the workshop's name being too generic in their opinion. He pays the rent by restoring antique watches and as a subcontractor (anonymously of course) for the leading watchmaking brands. And in his - rare - spare time, he designed his masterpiece, his tourbillon pocket watch. Peter Speake-Marin will have spent a total of 1,500 hours on it. "I think it's the most important piece I'll ever make, but I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it". 

He is now considering embarking on the manufacture of classic watches, and "buying the time" needed to develop products carrying his name. He had to make 90% of his tools to produce his watch. He then did what in architecture is known as "salvaging", an elegant form of recycling. The diamonds set on the counter-pivot come from a 19^th-century watch. As for the gears of his pocket watch, they come from CH Meylan movements made in the early 20^th century. "I've taken all the gears and made a single movement from two", explains the watchmaker. "I used them because they're as good as ones by Patek Philippe. I thought I'd save time by doing so. The contrary was true: as they had been hand-made, there were no two alike. I had to re-machine them." 

His watch resembles him. At first glance, it looks very lovely, yet fairly classic. And yet it calls for a second, and even third, look. The difference is in the details. The tourbillon bridge first of all. Its shape is very elegant, a cross between a Celtic and Gothic motif. The shape is vaguely reminiscent of something. The watchmaker smiles and points to an old machine used for "rounding" wheels. The bridge is the shape of the crank key in miniature. The shape of the hands is also particular: they end in hearts. Not slim, pointed hearts like those on English watches, but big chubby hearts in the style of Yves Saint Laurent, fit to burst. "I've put in it all the components I'd love to have in a watch", he says. This piece is me."

Le Temps
Isabelle Cerboneschi
3 avril 2002