That’s no simple job, since champlevé enamelling brings with it its own set of complications. The intricate details and serifs of the numerals, not to mention the spaces around and between the tiny seconds dots, create numerous zones where the enamel (being applied, as always, in multiple layers and firings) is in extremely slender sections – previously, we’d only had to apply it across the whole surface of a dial.
The more enamel you apply in these areas, the more tension creeps into the material as it is fired, since both the enamel and the metal areas within it are being heated up. Metal and glass expand at different rates in heat, pushing and pulling on each other. All of this can cause tiny cracks to develop or the blank to warp. We used up scores of dial blanks trying to get this right.
It isn’t helped by the height tolerances involved: since the final surface needs to be flush with the top of the raised parts of the dial, there’s less than a millimetre of height in which to build up a rich, uniform layer of enamel. It’s actually applied with a few degrees of extra height, before being polished, a process that gently (very gently) grinds down the top stratum of the enamel to leave a completely even, impeccable surface.
We didn’t really set out to make a champlevé dial for the sake of it; both we and the Struthers had a design in mind that happened to require it, so we found out how to do it. We reckon we went through over a hundred dial blanks during what’s been one of our longest projects – Sally has spent around a year of her working time on this. And all for the sake of five watch dials!
But the finished result, with those elegant metallic numerals apparently swimming in a pool of limpid, flawless enamel, is mesmerising, and quite different to anything we’ve done previously for anOrdain. And of course, it’s something we’ll be able to return to in the future. Watch this space.