Horological Machine N°11
Architect
It could be said that an MB&F Machine is not worn; it is lived. With its latest creation, MB&F further blurs the line between watchmaking and architecture.
The house that Max built
A watch and a house are different machines.
But the Machines of MB&F are habitable; the stories they tell locate us in different places or different times, and sometimes different worlds.
What's so special about this machine?
A rotating case, a flying tourbillon and a see-through sapphire crown are just three highlights from the HM11's unique features.
At the heart of the engine are two words: Power & Efficiency
What if a house was a watch?
A central atrium that gives onto four peripheral rooms. Transparency and light. Interior volumes that interact with exterior perspectives, HM11 combines the beauty of architecture with watchmaking mastery.
- Two editions: In grade 5 titanium and blue dial plate limited to 25 pieces or grade 5 titanium and red gold dial plate limited to 25 pieces.
- Dimensions: 42mm (diameter) x 23mm (height)
- Number of components: 92
- Three-dimensional horological engine featuring bevel gears, composed of a flying tourbillon, hours and minutes, a power reserve indicator and temperature measurement, developed in-house by MB&F.
- Mechanical movement, manual winding (by turning the entire case clockwise)
- Power reserve: 96 hours
- Balance frequency: 18’000bph/2.5Hz
- Number of movement components: 364 components
- Number of jewels: 29 jewels
- Sapphire crystals on top, back, and on each chamber-display treated with anti-reflective coating on both faces
- Sapphire crown
- Hour and minutes
- Power reserve
- Temperature (-20 to 60° Celsius, or 0 to 140° Fahrenheit)
Inspiration
Somewhere around the mid- to late 1960s, architecture entered an experimental phase, starkly different from the designs of the previous decade.
Post-war buildings were pragmatic, rectilinear forms, hastily erected to fulfil a purpose. But then a small yet reactive movement began taking hold, one that was surprisingly humanistic in its approach, though not in a way that architectural scholars would use the term.
It was humanist in the sense that it moulded space around the form of a human body, the spherical scope of vision perceived by the human eye, the radial ambit of human limbs moving through the air, the roundness of the breath that inflates our lungs and creates ephemeral vapour halos on car windows in winter.
These architects, some of whom eschewed that title and instead called themselves habitologists, built houses which appeared as if they had been exhaled out of the earth, or as if the land had flexed its fingers and forgotten to curl them fully back up again. They bubbled, they undulated, they arched like an extended sinew. And when Maximilian Büsser, founder of MB&F, looked at one of these houses, he thought, “What if that house was a watch?”