Tribute to my friend and mentor Gabriel Locatelli

Throughout my horological journey, I have crossed paths with individuals who have left a profound mark on both my craft and my life. Yet, the most defining encounter remains, without question, that of my dear friend, the master watchmaker Gabriel Locatelli, gone too soon.

Therefore, I dedicate the first " Falling for something " of my blog to him.

Upon graduating from watchmaking school in 1967, I joined the Jaeger-LeCoultre manufacture to further my training, and he became my first colleague. But our bond quickly grew beyond mere camaraderie—he took me under his wing, sharing not only his expertise but, more importantly, his wisdom and way of being.

Our paths first diverged when I requested the opportunity to work abroad for Jaeger-LeCoultre. After spending a year in Frankfurt in the after-sales service department, I gained a deeper understanding of a watch’s true journey. Direct contact with customers allowed me to grasp the challenges they faced with their timepieces.

Upon my return, enriched by this experience, I rejoined Gabriel in his workshop-laboratory, where I had the privilege of working alongside him, just the two of us. Our understanding was perfect, and this marked the beginning of a sincere and warm friendship. Our role was to refine and develop new movements, make adjustments, and optimize lubrication to prevent any loss of amplitude. For instance, after noticing that watches displayed in shop windows suffered from UV exposure, which degraded the quality of their oils, our mission was to find solutions to counteract this issue. We were also tasked with imagining innovative answers to a wide range of challenges affecting certain movements. It was truly fascinating work, where the pursuit of perfection was taken to the extreme. More than just a collaboration, it became a true compagnonnage—a shared quest for excellence at every level, built on deep mutual respect.

Our paths would once again diverge, as I felt the desire to take a new turn in my watchmaking journey and embark on the creation of timepieces.

Many years later, in 1992, I crossed paths with Gabriel once again. He was utterly disillusioned, deeply embittered by his final years at the manufacture. He had borne the full brunt of the arrival of technocrats and so-called specialists—those who, armed with unquestionable certainty, sought to impose a new industrial model by fragmenting watchmaking skills and tasks. The true craft of the watchmaker had been shattered, living its final days within such a system. This shift inevitably led to a loss of expertise, no longer held by a single artisan, which in turn destroyed both coherence and, ultimately, efficiency. Worst of all, it marked the demise of the creative act—the ability to conceive and craft a timepiece from A to Z. Gabriel deeply regretted this reality, feeling cast aside, his voice no longer heard.

He told me then, "As soon as I retire, I'll come work with you." The moment his retirement arrived, I called him to let him know that his workbench was ready. His arrival in my workshop coincided with the birth of the Simplicity. The years we spent together were pure joy—not only for the exceptional quality of our shared expertise but also for the depth of our human connection. Our synergy was simply perfect, and we rediscovered the same energy and passion we had once shared in his laboratory. In 2000, I presented the Simplicity in Basel, where it sparked great interest in the watchmaking world—particularly among Japanese collectors.

I was filled with confidence for the next chapter of our journey and eagerly anticipated this new phase of our collaboration. But just a few months later, I was struck with disbelief upon learning of his passing in a car accident. The shock was overwhelming—I was devastated, unable to return to my work, so deeply did I feel his absence. For a moment, I even considered giving it all up. Yet, I knew I had to overcome my grief and carry on without him. He would never have wanted me to stop. With the Japanese market showing great interest in the Simplicity, I owed it to him—and to myself—to continue the journey.

The world of haute horlogerie and the "Vallée" had just lost one of its greatest master watchmakers, whose influence was decisive in my watchmaking career, and who also passed on his expertise and knowledge to many other watchmakers.

In truth, he never truly left my workshop, for his imprint lives on in every gesture I make. Gabriel Locatelli continues to live within me.

Clarification

The text has been slightly modified to avoid any ambiguity regarding my friend Gabriel Locatelli's involvement in the creation of the Simplicity. In fact, Gabriel joined my workshop well after the inception of this model: by that time, the prototype and two timepieces had already been made. This does not diminish anything he contributed to me, both professionally and personally.