RISE OF THE INDEPENDENT

The world of high horology is one of contrasts. On one end of the spectrum sits the mega brands that we all know and love, such as  Rolex, Omega and Patek Philippe. Many among them trace their lineages back hundreds of years, and from their great manufactures roll forth tens of thousands of timepieces annually. However, on the other side of the divide lurks another breed of watchmakers – the rebel independents. Often working alone in the solitude of their humble workshops, these artisans have become a wellspring of creativity as they push the boundaries of design. Among them are the likes of Peter Speake-Marin, Martin Braun and, of course, Maximilian Büsser.

Unlike many other natives of the Swiss Watch Valley, Büsser was not afflicted with the jokingly-termed ‘watch virus’ from a young age. In fact, for most of his early life, he barely showed any interest in timepieces, let alone mechanical ones. His childhood was, instead, spent in solitude in his room armed with only his imagination to keep him entertained.

“I was an only child, a lonely one at that,” Büsser recalls. “To survive, I was constantly saving the world alongside heroes like Han Solo, Dr Spock, Captain Kirk and good old Batman.” However, it seems fate is not without a sense of irony, and through a series of unexpected events following a tour of duty with one of the big watch brands (which we had discussed in Behind the Scenes in The Peak’s May 2014 issue), Büsser decided to strike out on his own, setting up the watchmaking lab, MB&F (Maximilian Büsser & Friends), in 2005.

Among the independents, Büsser continues to set himself apart through his otherworldly creations, which seem absent of any rhyme or reason as their nature ranges from the quirky to the traditional. From his stable, one finds the whacky Horological Machines (HMs), the Transformers-inspired Horolobot, the extraterrestrial Starfleet Machine clock, and the classically-inspired Legacy Machines (LMs).

However, Büsser explains there is a method to his madness. “I can’t write, sing or paint, so what I’m creating is basically my autobiography, and all my creations are very much linked to my childhood,” he says. “The HMs and the Starfleet draw from the science fiction realms, a universe that made my heart beat faster. The LMs are also another part of my childhood; but the more serious, traditional part of it. It’s what I imagine if I could travel through time, or had lived in the 19th century among the great inventors where virtually everything you talk about in horology today was created.”

While these creations do trace their origins back to Büsser’s childhood memories, the manner in which they are conceived is markedly more bizarre. When Büsser first started MB&F 10 years ago, he would get ideas from his “doodles”, or random sketches of his thoughts. These days, his approach is different.

Recalling a time when he was horribly jet-lagged while flying from Tokyo, he experienced a ‘eureka moment’, where he managed to think up a new timepiece in its entirety. “I was dozing off when … Boom! It just came to me … and let me stress that I don’t do drugs,” Büsser laughs. “This is something I’ve perfected over time. While I don’t know how or when the next ‘eureka moment’ will happen, I’ve discovered it occurs most often when I’m travelling. I think sleep deprivation has something to do with this.”

Today, Büsser likes to think of himself as an artist, which he defines as ‘”someone who creates selfishly”. “MB&F is all about creating what I want; I never put the consumer into the creative process,” Büsser states bluntly. “When I first created MB&F I wanted to make sure it would never be a brand, but rather a concept lab that didn’t have any inherent DNA to follow. This means that I can do whatever I want and change direction as I see fit.”

And one direction Büsser is adamant on adhering to is in keeping MB&F at its present size; a choice some may find odd given the growing popularity of the independent artisan. “We’re at the ideal size right now, with regards to output and employees. We’re never going to integrate as a manufacture because we could never do each of the crafts as well as the specialists,” argues Büsser. “Of course, this means that we’re also constrained by our financial and technical resources; we don’t have cash to do everything, so, at times, I’m torn between my vision of staying small and being able to create whatever I want.”

While Büsser will not budge on MB&F’s current size, one concept he is taking to new horizons is M A D Gallery in Geneva, conceived through another one of Büsser’s “gut feelings” in Geneva two and a half years ago. Originally intended as a haven for “like-minded artisans of mechanical art who were misunderstood by the market”, M A D Gallery has since gone on to sell 15,000 pieces of art, and has also recently opened its second galleryin Taipei.

“M A D Gallery is becoming a brand in itself,” says Büsser. “We chose Taipei because our partners there, Swiss Prestige, are people who have loved and supported us from the beginning, even when we were nobodies, and everything I do is about human values and face-to-face connections.”

So what does the future hold for Maximilian Büsser and his intrepid band of Friends going forward? Product-wise, Büsser says he is brimming with new ideas that are waiting to manifest themselves physically. On a personal level, Büsser points out that the only certainty he knows is that he has no idea how time will change him five years from now. “The man I was 10 years ago, when I created MB&F, is not the same one today,” Büsser says. “Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. I became a father for the first time one and a half years ago, and that has completely changed who I am.”

While some people may fear the unknown, Büsser embraces it. “To create, you have to relinquish control. Not of what you’re creating, but of who you’re going to be at the end,” says Büsser.