Bones And Bridges

We explore the timeless allure of skeleton and open-worked watches and track how they’ve evolved through the centuries.

- Haziq Yusof

THEY SAY A magician should never reveal his secrets. Unlike the masters of sleight of hand, however, the David Copperfields of the watchmaking world appear to live by a different maxim, one that posits: if you're good as you say you are, why not flaunt it?

In the world of watches, no category of timepieces reveals more than skeletonised watches. They flaunt their complexities with unabashed transparency, mesmerising you with full views of their inner workings while fostering a deep appreciation for the art of fine watchmaking. The idea, essentially, is to allow wearers to look through-and not simply at-the watch.

If you're unfamiliar with skeleton watches, you'd be forgiven for assuming that it would be easier to conjure than a conventional one. After all, wouldn't skeletonisation mean that watchmakers can skip designing a dial?

While that may be true, skeletonising a timepiece is no easy feat. Think of it as a high-stakes, solo game of Jenga. Instead of gingerly removing small wooden blocks, watchmakers must meticulously and delicately remove excess metal from the movement's plates and bridges-leaving only the essential components behind-while ensuring the movement remains robust. Of course, should the structure collapse-you're more likely to hear a watchmaker lament the amount of wasted work and time, rather than an excited cry of 'Jenga'.

Show Your Workings

Traditionally, skeleton watches have been the canvas master watchmakers use to display their dexterity. The art of skeletonisation became significant during the quartz crisis of the 1980s, when the Swiss watch industry faced an existential threat from electronically powered quartz watches. In response, Swiss watchmakers emphasised the craftsmanship and complexity of mechanical movements to differentiate themselves from mass-produced quartz models.