Wednesday, November 30, 2022

Dial printing notes

 

If I had these notes 3 years ago, we could have saved time, money and quite a few sleepless nights. Since I strongly believe that one day, there will be another Australian watchmaking business in need of 'inside knowledge', I am publishing this quick version here, in order to save them time and money.

Unfortunately, there is no shortcut for sleepless nights.

Dial printing (transfer method) is as old as watch dials themselves. The revolution started in the early 1900s when porcelain pocket watch dials were replaced with mass-produced metal sheet dials. With the popularity of wrist watches, printed dials completely replaced all other traditionally manufactured dials.

While the printed dials were used by all watch brands, due to the way watches are manufactured in Switzerland, only a handful of companies specialised in dial making. This is still the case, and to this day, only a select few are in the dial making business, specialising mainly in high value dials.

The journey into dial making starts with a dial printing machine manufacturer. One industry leading company is Teca Print, located in Thayngen, literally on the Swiss / German border. Teca Print dial printing machines are used to make dials for all the top Swiss brands. They also provide all the accessories and paint, as well as the 'know how' training (AUD $1500 per day).
Good luck trying to import Swiss paint into Australia.

Luckily, a suitable dial pad printing paint is already available in Australia. Look for COATES PAD PRINTING INK TP 300. You will also need thinners and hardeners. All supplied by Milford Astor.
WARNING: safety first. Understanding the hazard of dealing with paint and related chemicals is essential.

 A cliché is a metal plate that 'contains' your artwork.  The production of pad printing clichés is highly complex and they are typically manufactured only by pad printing equipment suppliers. We've ordered our first cliché from Switzerland. However, we now have clichés made in Sydney. Eventually, we will have them made 'in house'.
In theory, the pad printing process is straight forward: the ink is applied to the cliché, picked up by a silicone pad, and then transferred to the watch dial. In reality, getting the process to work and then to fine tune it to perfection is an art form. Everything from temperature, humidity, cleanliness, to the exact paint formula, to timing and number of transfers is purely a matter of experimentation until a satisfying result is achieved.
To summarize: the machine, accessories and training come from Switzerland, but all the supplies including local support is available in Australia.
Top Swiss quality dial printing is within reach of an independent watchmaker. However, mastering the technique is challenging and time consuming. Except for a handful of Japanese independents, most other watchmakers are more than happy to outsource dial making to specialists. We are very proud of the fact that our MK2 Curl Curl dial is pad printed in-house and we are already looking into expanding our capabilities in this field in 2023.

It goes without saying that our facility remains open to fellow Australian watchmakers. We have nothing to hide! On the contrary, it would be our pleasure to assist you in your horological project.
We have uploaded a short video to Instagram showing the Teca-Print machine in action. Here is the link, check it out:
https://www.instagram.com/p/Ck9PM3Ahh6J/

Collecting?

 

"Hi Nick, loving the emails you send out.

I know you're a busy man, but any chance you can tell us subscribers about your personal watch collection—for example, how many you have? Maybe show some rare ones or ones that have an interesting story behind them ?

Cheers,
Wade Leaney"

 
Hi Wade,

Appreciate the question. Let's start with the obvious: watch dealers are pathetic collectors. So are watchmakers. The dealers’ collection consists of unwanted and unsold stock; the watchmakers: of broken, beyond-repair, incomplete and obscure pieces, rarely of any value. Being close to watches and dealing with them daily does not make one a collector. Quite the opposite.

Collecting is a meaningful and laser-focused effort which requires time, money, and patience; something that should be enjoyed outside business hours. (I am typing this reply at 6:05 in the morning—why am I not 'collecting'?). Great collections are built by passionate, sophisticated, and wealthy people who have plenty of time to chase that Holy Grail piece to complete their horological jigsaw puzzle.

I remember a visit to a private watch and clock museum in Switzerland, where I had the privilege of meeting with a third or fourth-generation collector, who is still building and expanding his family’s collection. A true multi-generational project. The stories about acquisitions, bidding wars, travels and relationships required to obtain those unique pieces were even more fascinating than the watches themselves. Still vividly remembered: a story of a Breguet pocket watch, which started life as a pair. The first was bought by his grandfather, the second one two generations later, reunited at a great cost—“We ended up taking a massive bridging loan, disposing of some pieces in order to complete the transaction”.  Blood, sweat and sacrifices. There are many thousands of passionate collectors out there who have amassed large collections, on almost any horological subject you can think of.  And my personal reward comes from the fact that, in a few cases, I was the one who found and provided that very special piece they were longing for. So, in a way, there is a little of “me” in their life collection, which is kind of cool.

At the end of the day, we all have our personal reasons to buy, collect, horde, pile up and amass. My reason is the fear of being judged as stupid. There is no doubt that shortly after I'm gone, someone will open my small deposit box, and curiously and patiently examine its contents. What they find in that box is going to be my final message to the world. Are they going to be amazed to discover two or three sophisticated pieces of real horological value and importance, or will they just find a box full of junk? Will they proclaim, “Wow, what a great find!” or “I can’t believe he sold tens of thousands of watches, but foolishly failed to preserve and pass on a single piece of any beauty, merit or importance.” I am not at all fearful of dying anonymously; I am fearful of dying and then forever being remembered as a fool who wasted his time and missed his opportunity to be someone worth remembering.

Am I happy with my current collection? Quite frankly, yes. Of course, I've missed countless opportunities, but I’ve still managed to hide away a piece or two worth preserving and guarding for the next generation. In particular, a certain New Zealand Railway pocket watch, as well as an important ships chronometer by a prominent maker. Both pieces should be held onto, and eventually donated to a museum, not sold. If interested, the story is here: http://nickhacko.blogspot.com/2019/07/sometimes-best-deals-are-those-that.html

When it comes to wristwatches, it’s the beauty of the mechanism and the story behind the model that matters. Everything else—condition included—is less relevant. Funnily enough, I am far more tolerant toward imperfections in my own pieces than those offered for sale. In other words, most of my vintage watches are probably a 6/10, but they have plenty of character and stories to tell.

Are we running out of stock worth collecting? Not really. Only a couple of weeks ago, there was a spectacular Zenith triple calendar moon on offer here, which was quickly snatched by a collector. I was even able to source one more, identical, for another collector which is rather unusual. I would gladly have kept either—or both—to add to my collection. Those El Primeros are simply superb pieces, which easily outshine any $100K Patek. Beyond the obvious horological value and beauty, there is one important fact that makes
them special: for the past 30 years, despite all new releases, and millions invested in marketing, Zenith failed to make a better El Primero than the original one. And they probably never will.

If I may—and this is hardly a secret to most subscribers—I have a weak spot for Seiko railway pocket watches. The plan is, to eventually, have one from every manufacturing year, from the 1930s to today. On my last count, there were more than 200 in the collection, a pile in need of classification, labelling, overhaul, and proper storage. I keep a “cheat sheet” on the wall, to remind myself that some years are still missing. 1949-51 were “dry years”, as well as 1971. Yet there is an abundance of stock from the 1950s and 60s. The first quartz model 38RW was only produced for 2 years (1978-1980) and it is an extremely hard one to find. Back in 1978, it sold for over $600 and cost more than a brand-new Rolex Submariner 5513! I am a proud owner of one, which is sealed in a plastic bag prominently marked “DO NOT SELL THIS ONE”. So, my Seiko railway pocket watches are still a work in progress. Again, if I drop dead tomorrow, they should be passed on to a new guardian, rather than a high bidder.

Whether orderly, messy, pedantic, sophisticated, obnoxious, public, private, over the top or shy and modest, our watch collection is nothing more or less than our own reflection in a mirror of time. 

Happy collecting,
Nick Hacko
Watches currently offered for sale can be found here: 
http://clockmaker.com.au/wfs1.html