Switzerland's timeless art mechanics embraces 3D future
A moving mechanical artwork representing a clown writing, in the workshop of Swiss master Francois Junod. AFP
Gulf Today Report
In his snow-bound workshop, Swiss master Francois Junod's moving mechanical artworks whir into action: birds whistle, historical luminaries write poetry — traditional craftsmanship newly recognised as being among the world's cultural heritage.
In the Jura Mountains running along the French-Swiss border, the precision skills behind some of the planet's finest watches and automatons have been handed down through the generations.
The region's historical pre-eminence in a field combining science, art and technology has also been given a boost by the United Nations.
In December, the craftsmanship of mechanical watchmaking and art mechanics in the Juras were jointly added to UNESCO's Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. according to AFP.
Junod is working on an automaton of Leonardo da Vinci. His eyelids blink, and his sparkling eyes move, following his pen strokes as his arm moves from left to right.
"It's close to magic," Junod told as he brought Da Vinci's head to life.
Quiet hum of cogs
Pristine snow engulfs Junod's studio in the village of Sainte-Croix in western Switzerland, more than 1,000 metres (3,300 feet) up in the Juras, and less than five kilometres (three miles) from the French border.
The area is a hotbed of creation in watchmaking and its close relative, art mechanics.
It has been so since the 1685 revocation of the Edict of Nantes, which saw Protestants flee France en masse, many heading for safety in the Frontier Mountains, taking their skills and industriousness with them.
"The tranquillity of the mountains goes very well with the profession," said 61-year-old Junod, who is the fourth generation of his family working in mechanics in Sainte-Croix.
His 20-year-old nephew is among the five people working in the studio: a Steampunk's dream filled with cogs, pistons, mechanical butterflies, a cantering horse, 19th-century music boxes and colourful giant birds.
There is even a skeleton in a feathered hat, used to model movement; hands and legs hanging down from the ceiling; shelves full of miniature heads; tools galore and a giant eye with a rotating music-playing iris.
Patience and time
Junod and his team work on five or six pieces at once. The art form requires patience and curiosity.
The automaton of Russian writer Alexander Pushkin — which could write 1,458 poems in ink — took five years; the Tapis Volant flying carpet took two.
"You have to like difficulty. You need patience. And you have to be passionate," said Junod.
The job satisfaction comes from seeing the finished product come to life, having overcome all the technical and aesthetic hurdles.
"Even within the same studio, everyone will have their own style in making an automaton," said Junod.
"It's that which gives it it's soul. It really has a soul. No two are ever the same.
"That's the charm of this craft."
