In the business of timepieces, there are two kinds of magic. First is bringing a timepiece to life, so that it is able to discharge its function to keep precise time. The second kind of wizardry in the realms of horology lies in restoring and returning a timepiece to perfect working order, enabling its owner to continue deriving enjoyment from the piece in perpetuity. This second act of magic is why timepieces continue to exude their mystique as an heirloom, tangible and immutable, and retaining its character and utility for posterity.
In Bangkok, Robb Report Malaysia was offered a tour of Patek Philippe’s regional service centre, which is responsible for approximately 6,000 pieces that make their way to the centre annually. (Thailand features as one of Patek Philippe’s top 10 largest markets). The nearly 10,000 sq ft customer service centre, located on the ninth floor of Gaysorn Tower, is capable of repairs up to Advanced Module B (which means anything below a manual-wind chronograph), while other grand complications are the reserve of watchmakers at the Genevan home base.
Perhaps one of the most important brand promises from the independent, family-owned Genevan watchmaker is in its commitment to after-sales care, a key tenet that its current president, Thierry Stern, espouses time and again. Theirs is a pledge to repair and maintain all timepieces ever made by Patek Philippe since its inception in 1839.
Back at the Bangkok service centre, we are greeted by rich, lacquered wood, calming beige, sombre blacks and gold accents—a rich palette representative of Patek Philippe. Art pieces, illustrations of timepieces, and a beautiful Thai touch of floral pineapples and origami lotuses complete the vision.
Walking through the technical area, where repairs happen, is an appreciation in the exactness that Patek Philippe has instilled in its global repair centres—an effort it undertook to streamline its after-sales services, and relinquishing the dealer-operated ones in favour of wholly Patek Philippe-operated centres.
As a start, its four training institutes offer apprenticeships to would-be watchmakers—a two-year programme to sieve the best of the lot. More than anything, the temperament and patience of these trainees are put to the test, whereby failure on a later stage—say, the waterproof test—will necessitate a redo of polishing, assembly and checking of all components. Thus, the absolute need to train these watchmakers begins with steps as prosaic as maintaining the right sitting posture, with knees at a 90-degree slant to reduce fatigue and steady the hands.
Then comes the impressive repair centre hardware, which is where the hard-won lessons of Patek Philippe as an independent and integrated watchmaker comes forth. An essential maintenance kit, sent from Geneva, comes with tools for the following: bracelet removal, hole punchers for different sizes, and ones to replace batteries. These kits are also available in two boutiques in Malaysia, namely Patek Philippe at JW Marriott in Kuala Lumpur and at The Hour Glass in Pavilion Kuala Lumpur.
The tour shows how very specific tools and skillsets are essential in ensuring the good condition of the serviced timepieces. A wrong-sized screwdriver will damage screws irrevocably; the grooves on a caseback will be defaced by an inappropriate opening tool; and bad lubrication will jam up the components.
Which is why, at the Patek Philippe service centre, precision and a methodical approach to servicing is the only way. Here, dynamometric-shaped keys remove screws with exactly the right torque and pressure. Movement intervention for timepieces undergo a prescribed battery of steps, with the following taking place: checking of worn-out components (by measuring thickness), adjusting jewels, removing tough stains, and washing components in an ultrasonic bath with a solution sent direct from Geneva.
Then comes assembly, with components anointed with the right type of lubrication—modern oils are designed to evaporate, which makes it wise to send a timepiece for servicing every five years to prevent metal on metal/dry rubies action, which causes the timepiece to damage itself. One drop for each of the 15 teeth (on average) of a standard escapement wheel doesn’t sound so bad when the biggest challenge, we are told, has to be in landing a single spot of lubrication on the jewelled tine of a pallet fork.
A very specific machine exists in the service centre to guide the fixing of the watch hands onto the stem and the movement; orange is too light; red is too tight, causing the hands to be damaged; and green is exactly right.
And for all the times when a timepiece suffers the ignominy of scratches or dings, the polishing team’s prowess even extends to laser filling cavities on the case to make it as good as new. The art of polishing, when explained, makes it easy to understand why an apprenticeship at Patek Philippe’s institute requires around two of Earth’s revolutions around the sun. For starters, a Nautilus employs an average of 55 hand-polishing techniques, where different brushes, sand, abrasive pastes, emery boards, brushes, and wood are needed to create the exact effect of its original. While gold bracelets are relatively easy, taking 1.5 to two hours to polish, platinum requires at least double the time.
From sand blasting and satin to mirror finishes, the know-how in finishing finally translates to the ineffable sparkle and emotional qualities of a timepiece, a product of human hands and heart that has yet to be supplanted by robots. This, perhaps, best explains why servicing is time consuming, with the myriad processes guided by human actions and aided by machines.
At the final control, timepieces are checked for magnetism and water resistance, visually assessed by a loupe, and tested across six positions for its timekeeping tolerances. Here in Bangkok, despite the maelstrom of human activity beyond, the service centre maintains its zen-like calm, allowing for the corps of technicians and watchmakers to work through the timepieces, one at a time.
Photos courtesy of Patek Philippe
