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Inside Watchland: the home of Franck Muller’s most complex and creative watches

By Audrey Simon 17 July, 2026
Watchland

At Franck Muller, the same company that builds technically intricate minute repeaters also dreams up watches that deliberately messes up regular ways to display the time

At Watchland, Franck Muller’s manufacture and sprawling campus on the outskirts of Geneva, the brand’s latest novelties sit side by side: traditional tourbillons and minute repeaters on one hand; Crazy Hours and the new Master Jumper on the other. The juxtaposition prompts a question: how does one house produce both museum-grade horology and playful watches that deliberately scramble the hours?

From the outside, it is easy to divide them into serious and playful creations. Inside Watchland, that distinction does not exist. “It’s the same DNA, the same mindset,” says Franck Muller’s CEO Nicholas Rudaz. “The watchmakers, engineers, and designers all work within the same ecosystem at Watchland. What changes is not the team, but the intention behind each project.”

He cites Crazy Hours as an example. Far from rejecting traditional watchmaking, it is another expression of it—one that demands a complete rethinking of how time is displayed and experienced. That creative freedom, Rudaz argues, is only possible in a manufacture that has fully mastered the foundations of high complications.

The latest proof of that philosophy is the Vanguard Lady Crazy Hours Jisbar, a feminine interpretation of the 2025 Crazy Hours x Jisbar collaboration. Available in a new 32mm size in rose gold or steel, it preserves the bold chromatic intensity and graphic energy of the French pop street artist.

The dial becomes a miniature canvas—12 motifs drawn from Jisbar’s universe. Photo by Franck Muller

The watch pairs Franck Muller’s emblematic Crazy Hours complication with something that feels closer to sleight of hand: rather than advancing smoothly, the hour hand jumps instantaneously every 60 minutes to the next correct numeral, wherever that number happens to fall on the dial. Here, the dial becomes a miniature canvas—12 motifs drawn from Jisbar’s universe, deconstructed and recomposed across a multi-layered lacquer surface—turning the piece into wearable art that bridges contemporary pop imagery and high watchmaking.

Underneath, the automatic MVT 2800 CHRS movement delivers a 42-hour power reserve across 201 components, which are housed in a hand- polished Vanguard case with traditional finishing: Côtes de Genève, perlage, bevelling, snailing, and satin and sunray brushing.

This kind of project, Rudaz says, always begins with the same question: “How can we surprise?” Sometimes that leads to a new way of reading time, as with the Master Jumper. With others, it pushes the team towards a fresh technical frontier, such as pairing a minute repeater with an unconventional display. In every case, the complication is developed in service of the idea. “We don’t pursue complexity for its own sake,” he notes. “It is a means of expression. Emotion may come first, but it must always be supported by engineering that is rigorous, precise, and uncompromising.”

Where Crazy Hours plays with the order of time, the Master Jumper Skeleton plays with its typography. This new triple-jumping watch, which is available in two case configurations— Long Island Evolution and Curvex CX—lines up three jumping indications on a vertical axis: hours at 12, minutes at centre, and date at 6. Five visible discs produce a clean, near-digital read-out within a fully skeletonised architecture.

Powering the watch is an in-house, manually wound calibre from the MVT 3100 family—a movement that must summon serious energy for the instantaneous jump of both hours and minutes, and again at midnight when the date advances simultaneously. A double-barrel arrangement maintains stable torque and precision across the power reserve.

Where Crazy Hours plays with the order of time, the Master Jumper Skeleton plays with its typography. Photo by Franck Muller

In Long Island Evolution, the Master Jumper Skeleton arrives in a rectangular brushed titanium case with a rose gold inner case and bezel, black PVD treatment, and a multi-layer construction that improves shock protection while enabling screwless crystal integration. The Curvex CX versions adopt the brand’s signature tonneau shape with extended sapphire crystal and an invisible bezel, offered in full rose gold or rose gold paired with a black PVD titanium internal bezel.

Serious watchmaking, unapologetically fun

At many brands, grand complications are treated as museum pieces while expressive watches are quietly relegated to the entry level. Franck Muller takes a different position. “We have never believed that high watchmaking must be austere,” says Rudaz.

Technical integrity, however, is non-negotiable. Whether a tourbillon, a minute repeater, or a triple-axis complication, each must meet the highest standards of precision, reliability, and finishing. Once that foundation is secure, there is no reason to constrain expression.

“Colour, humour, and even a sense of irreverence are not at odds with haute horlogerie. They are what keep it vibrant and relevant,” Rudaz says. A grand complication, he insists, should not only impress technically, but also surprise, delight, and occasionally challenge expectations. That balance is where the brand finds its voice.

The Master Jumper Skeleton arrives in a rectangular brushed titanium case with a rose gold inner case and bezel, black PVD treatment, and a multi-layer construction that improves shock protection while enabling screwless crystal integration. Photo by Franck Muller

It might be tempting to read the playful pieces as bait for younger buyers, with the grand complications reserved for established collectors. Rudaz disagrees. “Many of our most important collectors—those who already own tourbillons or minute repeaters—are equally drawn to pieces like Crazy Hours or the Master Jumper,” he says. “They are not necessarily looking for another classical watch; they are looking for something with personality.”

Those pieces open the door to a new generation, speaking a language that is more immediate, more emotional, and more contemporary in its references. But the story is less about two distinct audiences than about the same collector who might choose a grand complication for its technical mastery and a Crazy Hours for its sense of spontaneity. Both expressions return to the same idea: time as something to be experienced, not merely measured.

What emerges from Watchland is not a split personality. Franck Muller’s tourbillons, minute repeaters, Crazy Hours, and Master Jumper Skeletons spring from the same refusal to treat time as a fixed quantity. Here, it can be scrambled, digitised, coloured in, or stripped back to bare mechanics, but it is always built to the highest technical standard and always designed to provoke a reaction.

Franck Muller

This story first appeared in the July 2026 issue. Purchase it as a print or digital copy, or consider subscribing to us here