Our watches compete with private jets, art, supercars: Jaquet Droz CEO Alain Delamuraz
The competition is when a client hesitates between a tourbillon and a new Porsche, Jaquet Droz CEO Alain Delamuraz says amid a pivot to “one of one” watches.
Few watchmakers embody the métiers d’art quite like Jaquet Droz. These are the decorative crafts that elevate watchmaking into art: miniature painting, engraving and mechanical automata.
Since 1738, when Pierre Jaquet-Droz astonished Europe with his singing bird clocks and androids, the manufacturer has been known for blending mechanical ingenuity with artistic expression. Now part of the Swatch Group, it remains one of the most exclusive names in haute horlogerie.
In recent years, Jaquet Droz has taken a radical new path. Boutiques were closed, traditional distribution ended, and production was cut from thousands of pieces to no more than a hundred unique creations a year. Prices start in the low six figures (about $110,000) and average at half-a-million dollars.
Its repertoire includes signature automaton watches such as the hummingbird minute repeater, alongside personal commissions like Rolling Stones watches for Mick Jagger and a bespoke piece for Jon Bon Jovi. This focus on one-to-one creation also aligns with a new kind of collector who prefers discretion and buy for themselves and their close circles rather than for public recognition, says Alain Delamuraz, the company’s chief executive officer.
In this interview, Delamuraz explains the thinking behind the company’s radical shift, the new clients it attracts, and why he believes Jaquet Droz’s future lies in personalised watchmaking.
Edited excerpts:
Who have you met so far in India? Are Indian watch collectors open to Jaquet Droz?
In India we’ve met private collectors, some industrialists, and also a few from the film world. For many years, luxury watch collecting has largely been about status symbols. People wanted to be recognised by what they wore on their wrist. But increasingly some collectors are more discreet. They buy for themselves, for their families and close friends, not for recognition in the street. That suits us, because Jaquet Droz is not a brand with billboards or airport advertising. We work one-to-one with the final customer and our artists. It’s more like commissioning a painting—you want to meet the painter. That’s what happened with Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones pieces, or with Jon Bon Jovi. They wanted something lasting, not merchandise.
Three years on, how do you look back at the radical shift?
We closed boutiques and stepped away from traditional distribution. We dedicated everything to unique pieces, priced in six and seven figures. Today we make no more than 100 watches a year. It was risky, but also timely. After covid, with fast fortunes being made, many clients already had everything. The real luxury for our clients is to discover and learn something new.
When clients visit our workshops and see métiers d’art they didn’t know still existed, they leave with that sense of wonder. Financially, it has taken time, but we are now close to breakeven and beginning to be profitable.
How challenging was it to break away from what Jaquet Droz was earlier?
The first challenge was internal. You cannot succeed outside if you don’t first convince your own people. We had 50 employees. In the past we made exceptional watches, but also more accessible pieces in larger numbers. Now, we dedicate ourselves entirely to unique creations. And if we make something for one client, we will not repeat it for another. Collectors at this level don’t go to boutiques, which is why we closed them. I also had to convince partners. Some became ambassadors who introduce serious clients, but no more conventional retail.
It took time, and there were mistakes, but the team understood.
What happens when a customer commissions a watch?
Ideally, the client visits the manufacturer. We sit down together, discuss ideas, and then designers and artisans—engravers, painters, automaton makers—develop the concept. Some projects take a month, others three or four, and a new mechanism can take up to three years. We have made a heavy gold watch lighter in titanium at a client’s request. Another collector with a Ferrari asked us to echo the look of his car’s RPM counter in the watch.
We could also develop a Krishna scene on the same movement as our minute repeater with the hummingbird automaton, and then clients can adapt details—elephants larger or smaller, colours, case materials.
The joy for them is not only the finished watch but what they learn in the process: enamelling, micro-engraving, sculpture. They leave saying, “I didn’t know this still existed.” That, for me, is the essence of luxury.
You once said you compete with private jets and hypercars, not other watchmakers.
Yes. When I speak with peers at Patek Philippe or Audemars Piguet, we agree that the real competition is not each other. Serious collectors buy across maisons. They may own a Jacob & Co., a Greubel Forsey, a Patek, and one day, a Jaquet Droz.
The competition is when a client hesitates between a tourbillon and a new Porsche Turbo. That happened to me once when I was at Blancpain. I told the client, who worked in finance, “You should know the difference between spending and investing.” He chose the car, but two years later came back for the watch. That’s how I see it: our rivals are cars, yachts, jets, art.
Once someone is drawn into watchmaking art, eventually they come to us.
What support have you had from the Swatch Group?
I could not have taken this path without their backing. During covid we asked ourselves: what should we do, how should we evolve? The group accepted that this approach was audacious, but they supported it. Of course there is a period where you invest before you see results. But Swatch Group has given us the time and freedom to focus only on unique pieces. In return, we preserve métiers d’art that might otherwise disappear. So there is both a business and a patrimony dimension.
