Eroticism and watchmaking: the mechanics of desire

There is a watchmaking tradition that rarely features in conventional histories of Swiss watchmaking. Not for any lack of technical interest — in some cases quite the opposite — but because for centuries it was a deliberately discreet production: erotic watches, pieces conceived to conceal, reveal or even animate scenes of a sexual nature by means of watchmaking mechanisms. Given its very nature, and in a society inclined to keep up appearances, the erotic theme in watchmaking is poorly documented, and to this day only one publication is known to address it: Les Heures de l’Amour, by Roland Carrera.

Origins

The pocket watch of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was not yet the functional, relatively democratic instrument it would eventually become in the nineteenth. It was a luxury object, a piece of social display. As such, a watch could be decorated using a variety of techniques, its dial depicting mythological scenes, portraits, landscapes, gallant scenes, animals, religious motifs or miniature paintings. The case provided a further artistic surface. Yet the crucial point is that it became a portable object. Illustrating such small and “concealable” elements allowed for something particularly appealing: carrying with you an image that did not necessarily have to be shared.

Produced mainly in England, France and Switzerland, it is difficult to pinpoint the date of the first erotic watches, which probably appeared in the mid-seventeenth century with commissions to include in watches – engraved or painted in enamel – miniature scenes of a more or less daring nature, for their time. These early watches used mythological or pastoral themes to justify the depiction of semi-nude figures, but these would quickly give way to more explicit scenes of a clearly sexual nature, rendered in polychrome enamel or highly detailed engraving.

Enamels and automata

The arrival of the Enlightenment and the spread, during the second half of the eighteenth century, of the writings of Choderlos de Laclos (author of the novel Dangerous Liaisons, hailed as the masterpiece of Western erotic literature) or by the Marquis de Sade created in Europe the ideal climate for the spread of this type of erotic watchmaking among the aristocracy and the rising bourgeoisie.

Static images are all very well, but the client wanted “action”. The next step was to bring movement to the scene. Watchmakers turned their attention to a technology they already knew from its use in “rich men's toys” and tower clocks: automata and jacquemarts, respectively.

Los autómatas eran generalmente muñecos animados por complejos sistemas mecánicos que les permitían ejecutar distintas acciones, desde parpadear hasta servir líquido de una jarra a un vaso o simular que escribían. Los jacquemarts eran figuras tradicionalmente asociadas a relojes de torre y mecanismos sonoros, ya que su función era básicamente tañer las campanas. El desarrollo de la relojería mecánica de los siglos XVIII y XIX permitió miniaturizar progresivamente esos principios. Y aquí destaca un nombre con luz propia: Pierre Jaquet-Droz

Jaquet-Droz

Born in 1721, he developed an extraordinary body of work in watchmaking, automata and mechanical objects destined for the wealthy European and Asian courts, creating delicate singing birds for snuffboxes. The next step was to insert this type of mechanism into pocket watches in order to create moving figures. These automata were generally gilded metal figures set against engraved or enamelled backgrounds, which required watchmakers to work alongside jewellers and enamellers. 

One particularly well-known piece is the Jaquet-Droz Nº 24, dated to around 1790 and made for the Chinese market, a major client of European watchmaking in general and of erotic watchmaking in particular.

Repetition as a Complication

The erotic watch also offered a particularly ingenious application of the repeater complication: the fact that erotic movements are repetitive meant the scene could be triggered by the repeater mechanism, so that both functions kept time together to the sound of the hammers striking the gongs. And not only Jacquet-Droz: Breguet likewise produced sophisticated examples based on this theme.

The Church was not entirely in agreement

As might be expected, this fashion was not well received by the Church, and was often censored in France and England. In 1817 the manufacture and sale of erotic watches was banned in certain regions of Switzerland, specifically in the cantons of Geneva and Neuchâtel, where existing pieces were systematically destroyed. For its part, in 1865 the British Museum withdrew them from public view and placed them in the collection Secretum. Even today, although they can be seen in the online catalogue, they remain not on display.

Decline and Vulgarisation

Todas las modas pasan, y esta no fue una excepción. A partir del siglo XIX el uso del reloj se populariza (Breguet había lanzado su reloj de suscripción en 1796) y el tema erótico sobrevivió de forma más discreta, aunque perdió progresivamente la posición privilegiada que había tenido durante el siglo XVIII.

In the early twentieth century the fashion briefly returned and “popular” watches were produced in Switzerland, with a rather explicit scene painted on the dial and a single moving figure within it: the male protagonist's member, connected to the balance wheel beating beneath that dial. The peculiarity here lies not in how unsophisticated both the scene and the caliber animating it are (industrial movements with no decoration whatsoever) or the nickel-plated metal case, but rather in the fact that we are no longer dealing with the aristocratic notion of a “hidden secret”: these watches have no cover or any other concealment system, and the scene in question is permanently on view. Today, auction houses often offer a fair number of pieces from this period and they are, as they were then, mere curiosities.

The Renaissance

Now in the era of the wristwatch, we pass quickly through the pre- and post-quartz crisis, whose examples are even more regrettable than those from the beginning of the century, and we arrive at the rebirth of mechanical watchmaking. In 1981 a pair of visionaries revived the Blancpain brand and marked the starting point of this rebirth. In 1988 they presented an ultra-thin minute repeater, and in 1993 they presented versions showing erotic scenes on the back, thus recovering not only the discretion of the concealed but also the artisan crafts of engraving, enamelling and goldsmithing for the automata. Presented as unique pieces, many of these watches were bespoke commissions for clients.

Reviving Fine Watchmaking…

Another revived brand, Ulysse Nardin also embraced the erotic trend and has brought extraordinary pieces to the market, ranging from automata and engravings to, more recently, exquisitely delicate enamels featuring drawings by Milo Manara as their motif.

Or the independents, who generally have little room to refuse their clients' requests. Svend Andersen had his moment of glory with a few watches of — to my mind — questionable taste, such as the one depicting President Clinton front and back (of the watch, that is). For the Millennials out there: Clinton was the President of the United States more or less around the time they were born.

At the beginning of this century, and making use of its Eclipsesystem, JLC produced a number of erotic-themed commissions: the mechanism consists of a set of blades that can be drawn aside at will by means of an auxiliary crown in order to conceal or reveal the dial. Another option is for the scene in question —always enamel, never automata— to be placed precisely on the back of the watch.

Let me say it: the style of Jacob&Co is garish. The piling up of diamonds on case and dial per se doesn't lend anyone class or elegance. And if you then "dress it up" with scenes that look like something out of the early twentieth century (when the subject lost its charme, remember?), things don't improve one bit. But it must have its audience, of course.

If there is one brand to which we can apply the adjective “groundbreaking”, it is Richard Mille. It is also a child of its time. At a historical moment when the internet has left no room for mystery when it comes to eroticism, the brand unveiled -2015- the RM69, an erotic watch utterly unlike anything seen before. In addition to a tourbillon, the mechanism -developed by Renaud & Papi- features a set of three faceted rollers bearing words capable of forming phrases on the subject, which are composed at random by pressing a pusher on the caseband. Only 30 pieces were made… 69 hours of power reserve, of course.

… and the freshness

Finally, this past 1 April (April’s Fools, the Anglo-Saxon equivalent of the Day of the Holy Innocents) Nivada announced its Antartic Erotic, in which the penguin that had been adorning the casebacks since the brand was founded came to life and revived the tradition of automata in a way I would venture to call charming (and technically well executed, too). It was offered with several dials: one could only be ordered within a 69-minute window, another for 69 hours, while for the remaining four the period was extended to six days and nine hours. They were series limited to the orders received. In other words, anyone who wanted to order one did not have to worry about missing out, but the brand announced that once the window closed it would never make them again.

Will there be an erotic app for smartwatches? Have no doubt about it.