In the beginning…
It all began 25 years ago.
Childhood
Even as a very young child I loved journeys of self-discovery through play, making sweets, soaps, and ceramics, and experimenting with colour.
With my mum, I made little pieces of artwork bringing different materials to life, and proudly presented them to my family – when I was only 7!
Sundays were real family times for us. I’d play with my brothers and sister, building our dreams using those ubiquitous coloured bricks.
Bridges, castles and entire fairytale landscapes took shape in our little hands as our father would look on with his engineer’s eye, assessing the technical feasibility of our creations.
It was a wonderful time.
In a connected world that’s increasingly virtual, I’m keen for us to learn how to make things again. The best way of doing that is to find a path back to the untroubled learning environment that it was so easy for us to inhabit when we were children.
The birth of a calling
Those colourful constructions were to be a major influence; I decided to study engineering (seen in my family as the noblest of all disciplines) and even took a course in pure physics. I then resolved to combine the strength of scientific discipline and rigour with the power of imagination at work in another field concerned with excellence.
So it was that I turned to craftsmanship and luxury – an unusual step for someone with my academic background.
My first job at Hermès introduced me to the marvels of noble materials.
Amid silk fabrics sublimated by unfading colours and tanned, brushed leather embossed with gold leaf, I decided that it was here that my inner aesthete could pursue its quest for beauty.
Food for thought
When I moved away from Switzerland with my husband Benoît as he took on a new job in Reims, at the heart of France’s Champagne region, I decided to realise my childhood dream of reinventing the luxury experience in the form of high-end do-it-yourself projects.
My idea was that rather than being reduced to consumers simply buying and owning a product, people could enjoy a highly personal experience involving the work of their own hands.
Devoting one’s own heart, mind and attention to the project would mean that the item in question would be far more meaningful; it would be one’s own masterpiece, a symbol of achievement and fulfilment.
To make these little-known arts and crafts accessible to a wider audience, I enlisted the help of acclaimed master watchmaker Thierry Ducret, a horology teacher at Morteau college. He was instantly captivated by the prospect of passing on watchmaking expertise to anyone with an interest.
Later, other teachers, engineers and stylists joined the adventure in my quest to build a piece that would measure time – or more accurately, grasp the measure of time.
The resulting team pursued a shared vision: passing on all the beauty of horological art.
To be sure of giving arts and crafts full pride of place, I allowed myself to be guided through the hidden mysteries of assembling distinctively designed artefacts, thereby aligning myself with the outlook of these trades I’m so keen to see preserved.
Escaping into manual work and experiencing what it’s like to be a craftsman is a great way of safeguarding all the riches inherent in arts and crafts that deserve far more recognition than they often get.
Rather than bemoan the loss of heritage, I opted to engage with it proactively; it seemed only natural to me that the watchmaking set marking the launch of Maison Alcée should pay tribute to this expertise.
We’re giving everyone everything they need to try their hand at building a unique piece that can then be passed down through the generations.
Putting these skills in the spotlight is a way of giving them a new lease of life, revealing them to a wider audience so that they can see them in a new light.
