As traditional mechanical watchmaking in Switzerland was seemingly coming to an ignominious end in the 1970s during the Quartz Crisis, a handful of individuals were doing their bit to keep things going. Whilst brands such as Patek Philippe and Rolex had visionary leaders at the helm and, who held firm to the ideals of mechanical watchmaking, there were also several stubborn artisans with an independent streak as well as mechanical talent. All began their careers modestly, but a handful grew in stature, becoming pioneers in what is today referred to as independent watchmaking.

Given his longevity and sustained success, one of the best known today is Philippe Dufour. Born in 1948 in Le Sentier, a village in the heart of the Swiss jura mountain range and considered as the cradle of high watchmaking, Dufour graduated from his 4 year course in watchmaking to join Jaeger-LeCoultre in 1967 – a most inopportune time given that both the brand and the broader industry were on the cusp of being expunged by the electronic wristwatch. The convulsions experienced by the declining watch industry meant he went from one employer to another in the following years, sending him as faraway as Saint Croix, a small island in the Caribbean.

By 1978, Dufour had his own workshop where he made a living restoring antique pocket watches – such timepieces being the flavour du jour of the collecting world where antiquarian horology was the preeminent collecting category. But propelled by a sense of history, he quixotically sought to recreate the grandest timepieces of Switzerland’s glory days as a watchmaking nation despite the tepid demand for such complicated watches at the time.

Soon he had built the first watch movement of his own, an endeavour that took some 2,000 hours. A grande et petite sonnerie for a pocket watch, Dufour’s creation was as fine and sophisticated as the watches that inspired him, the best striking watches of the early 20th century made by the likes of Louis Elisée Piguet, a movement specialist that supplied names like Patek Philippe and Vacheron Constantin.

But Dufour had to find a buyer for his creation, and at the time, the only takers were the watch brands in the region around his hometown, few of which were in a position to sell such an expensive watch. Audemars Piguet emerged to order five grande sonnerie movements, with the first delivered in 1982, and the last six years later.

Dufour has long stated publicly the anonymity of this body of work – his name was to be found nowhere on the Audemars Piguet watches – gnawed at him. And what has now become industry lore has it that not one, but two of the grande sonnerie watches were carelessly damaged after it had been handed over to Audemars Piguet, contributing to Dufour’s decision to go it alone. And so he started work on something that would have his name on the dial, which became the first-ever grande sonnerie wristwatch. He had a dream to realise this ambition after mortgaging his house. In 1991, a Singaporean friend of Dufour's - David Lee, convinced him to fly to Singapore where he was introduced to the Sales Director of The Hour Glass - Robert Seah. It was there he secured his first order for the first Grand Sonnerie wristwatch. This watch made its debut at the 1992 Basel Fair. Upon this launch, Dufour was able to secure an additional order for three more of these Grand Sonneries. These first four Dufour Grand Sonneries all had a high-fired white enamel dial and were cased in yellow gold, rose gold, white gold and platinum. And all four watches were placed to a family hailing from an oil rich South-East Asian sultanate.