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Lot Essay
The Ottoman love affair with watches and clocks reportedly began in 1531, when Suleyman I was given a watch set in a gold ring by the Italian watchmaker Giorgio da Capobianco. At this time, watchmaking in Europe was still in its infancy, no more than a century old. Over the next decades watches and clocks made their way to Istanbul through trade, or through the exchange of tribute: in 1548, in addition to a number of clocks, Emperor Charles V sent to Istanbul a number of Augsburg clockmakers to keep them running. They were enthusiastically received at court: Murad III's astrologer Taki al-Din wrote a treatise which described in detail the workings of mechanical clocks, which was read with interest by budding Turkish clockmakers (Clare Vincent and Jan Hendrik Leopold, European Clocks and Watches in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, 2015, p.212).
By the 17th century, a community of watchmakers had settled in Galata, the European quarter of Istanbul. Though they originally focused on repairs to imported watches, slowly they began to import and sell them. In 1632, an order was sent to the Swiss watchmaker Antoine Arlaud for a large number of watches and clocks, including six with lunar movements. The order was specific that these were to be luxurious pieces: 'the cases must be of silver, the dials and the plates supporting the movement are to be engraved, and the movements themselves are to be completely finished and gilt'. Eventually, by 1652 we read of a certain Barrachin who made watch movements on the ground in Istanbul, charging ten ecus for a plain movement and 12 for a gilt one (Otto Kurz, European clocks and watches in the Near East, Leiden, 1975, p.55). On our watch, the mechanism was probably imported from Switzerland but it seems likely that the dials with Arabic inscriptions were made locally. By the late 17th century, it seems that watchmakers in Galata were manufacturing their watches using a combination of locally-made and imported parts.
A small number of oval verge watches attributable to Galata workshops survive, varying in their levels of intricacy. Perhaps the one most similar to the present lot is in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London (acc.no.136-1907). It is similar in size, also with a chased gilt case and scrolling vegetal work on the silver face, although on that watched engraved into the surface rather than added with silver openwork. It has two dials, the upper giving the days of the lunar month on a dial numbered between 1 and 29, the lower with the 12 hours of the day in both Roman and eastern Arabic numerals. To either side are apertures for wheels displaying both the seven days of the week and the 12 months of the Arabic calendar. The Arabic inscriptions on the wheels of that watch are strikingly similar in style to those on the present lot. Inside the dial with the days of the month is a rotating disc to show the waxing and waning of the moon. The movement is engraved, like ours, but unlike ours it is signed by the maker, bearing a name which has been read as Jean Pattru. A watch with an undecorated face and a silver case, but of similar size and with the same layout of dials as the Victoria and Albert watch, is in the British Museum, London (acc.no.1888,1201.174). The movement on that watch is signed Dunant in Arabic, and identifies the place of manufacture as Galata. Also similar in form and decoration is an unsigned single-dial watch in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (acc.no.17.190.1560).
Our watch is a particularly unusual example because of the third dial. As well as the 29 days of the lunar month on one side, a second dial has 30 days, corresponding with the solar month. For a watch of a similar level of complexity, one must look to a sophisticated pocket watch in the collection of Waddesdon Manor, Buckinghamshire, attributed to the Genevois watchmaking brothers Jean-Pierre and Pierre Huard (acc.no.2787). Though that watch has Latin inscriptions and numbers in a combination of Roman and Western Arabic numerals, in many regards it is akin to our watch: the circle giving the phases of the moon appears almost identical, and the small florets between numbers on the 'hours' dial appear as on ours. Comparison with the Waddesdon watch suggests that the movement on ours was indeed made in Switzerland, and was probably exported in pieces so that the dials could be engraved locally in Arabic. It underscores the fact that Galata watches were not crude imitations of European watches, but could be every bit as complex as the finest European work.
By the 17th century, a community of watchmakers had settled in Galata, the European quarter of Istanbul. Though they originally focused on repairs to imported watches, slowly they began to import and sell them. In 1632, an order was sent to the Swiss watchmaker Antoine Arlaud for a large number of watches and clocks, including six with lunar movements. The order was specific that these were to be luxurious pieces: 'the cases must be of silver, the dials and the plates supporting the movement are to be engraved, and the movements themselves are to be completely finished and gilt'. Eventually, by 1652 we read of a certain Barrachin who made watch movements on the ground in Istanbul, charging ten ecus for a plain movement and 12 for a gilt one (Otto Kurz, European clocks and watches in the Near East, Leiden, 1975, p.55). On our watch, the mechanism was probably imported from Switzerland but it seems likely that the dials with Arabic inscriptions were made locally. By the late 17th century, it seems that watchmakers in Galata were manufacturing their watches using a combination of locally-made and imported parts.
A small number of oval verge watches attributable to Galata workshops survive, varying in their levels of intricacy. Perhaps the one most similar to the present lot is in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London (acc.no.136-1907). It is similar in size, also with a chased gilt case and scrolling vegetal work on the silver face, although on that watched engraved into the surface rather than added with silver openwork. It has two dials, the upper giving the days of the lunar month on a dial numbered between 1 and 29, the lower with the 12 hours of the day in both Roman and eastern Arabic numerals. To either side are apertures for wheels displaying both the seven days of the week and the 12 months of the Arabic calendar. The Arabic inscriptions on the wheels of that watch are strikingly similar in style to those on the present lot. Inside the dial with the days of the month is a rotating disc to show the waxing and waning of the moon. The movement is engraved, like ours, but unlike ours it is signed by the maker, bearing a name which has been read as Jean Pattru. A watch with an undecorated face and a silver case, but of similar size and with the same layout of dials as the Victoria and Albert watch, is in the British Museum, London (acc.no.1888,1201.174). The movement on that watch is signed Dunant in Arabic, and identifies the place of manufacture as Galata. Also similar in form and decoration is an unsigned single-dial watch in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (acc.no.17.190.1560).
Our watch is a particularly unusual example because of the third dial. As well as the 29 days of the lunar month on one side, a second dial has 30 days, corresponding with the solar month. For a watch of a similar level of complexity, one must look to a sophisticated pocket watch in the collection of Waddesdon Manor, Buckinghamshire, attributed to the Genevois watchmaking brothers Jean-Pierre and Pierre Huard (acc.no.2787). Though that watch has Latin inscriptions and numbers in a combination of Roman and Western Arabic numerals, in many regards it is akin to our watch: the circle giving the phases of the moon appears almost identical, and the small florets between numbers on the 'hours' dial appear as on ours. Comparison with the Waddesdon watch suggests that the movement on ours was indeed made in Switzerland, and was probably exported in pieces so that the dials could be engraved locally in Arabic. It underscores the fact that Galata watches were not crude imitations of European watches, but could be every bit as complex as the finest European work.