Kari Voutilainen – The Godfather
The first time I visited Mr. Voutilainen I was terrified. I felt I was going to see the Horological Godfather and couldn’t have been more nervous.
The meeting had been set by a mutual friend; he lived (and worked) in a large mansion up the hill; I wasn’t a “made” man or of significant means (still aren’t); and I was coming to ask a favor.
The favor – would he make a special piece for me?
The property had a wrought iron fence around it with a large gate at the corner and a smaller one on the side. Both lead to the driveway and the front of the house. The main gate was shut and not seeing a way to open it, I drove through the smaller one on the side.
Why do I tell this part of the story? Because it turns out the smaller gate wasn’t for cars but for people.
I became aware of my mistake when we later headed to a second location where dials and other parts were made. We jumped into his car and drove straight towards the (proper) gate. It opened immediately as the car neared, doing the same on our return.
I never told Kari of this infraction – to afraid to, but I guess the time has come to fess up. (Sorry Sir.)
If you have any interest in horology, there is little I can tell you about Kari that you don’t know. His designs, craftsmanship, business prowess, and general appeal are world class and world renowned.
Having met him now several times, I still pause to gather myself when approaching, certainly at crowded events where there is constant demand for his time. I’m simply not as worthy as so many others are.
I find him a quiet gentleman who seems to know everything including your next thought. A combination that can be as disconcerting as it is calming. He doesn’t (at least to me) seem to match his watches as much as other watchmakers might.
For many watchmakers, I see their watches in them and them in their watches. The focus of Stephen McDonnell in his Perpetual Calendar; The engineer of Romain Gautier and his Logical One and crownless HM; The Irish of Stephen McGonigle with his Tuscan Banu and Ceol; The traditional Japanese handmade craftsmanship of Masahiro Kikuno and his Sakubou; The Britishness of Roger Smith and his collection; The Sci-Fi of Vianney in many of his pieces.
But somehow the brashness and complexity of the Guilloché in the traditional Voutilainen dial doesn’t reflect the man I’ve met. It’s no less recognized as his work and it’s exciting, but dare I say, it speaks more to the wearer than to the creator. Maybe this is how it should be.
None of this deterred me from finally ordering a piece a few years ago. I asked for a somewhat unusual piece that I refer to as the “Un-Kari” Kari Voutilainen watch.
Known for his intricate and detailed Guilloché, enamels, and personalized dials, I went the other way – a 41mm platinum case with his signature raindrop lugs, simple and clean black enamel dial with raised Breguet numbers, and blue center second hand.
None of the many Guilloché machines that line the great room of his atelier in the sky were used.
Some call this a sin against horology or an affront to his signature styling. But I appreciate the way this piece matches the Kari I see as well as my own preference (which grows as I age) for more understated and easier to read watches.
The watch took a little more than three years to bring into reality, but I couldn’t be happier. It’s weight, style, size, and sophistication are perfect for me.
The arrow hands with blue circles allow “Voutilainen” to peek through between 10 and 2. The winding is short and purposeful while the setting confident and ensuring. I’ve mentioned the importance of precision and accuracy before and this piece does both with 60 markers for the minutes and hack second setting.
The stepped-up case and rain drop lugs have a fluid architectural feeling that almost makes you float. There is a carefree and can-do attitude about it all. It’s as at home at MoMA as it is the finest black-tie events. The height (partly due to the added bridge for the center second) remind me of the broad shoulders and architecture of Chicago (my hometown), and Daniel Burnham who designed the Chicago Lakefront and the 1892 Chicago World’s Columbian Exhibition.
The movement has a large escapement with single stern bridge and main plate with a sand blasted finish. A raised bridge for the center second wraps around the winding wheels allowing them to stand out. Given the size, a spacer ring allows the 30mm movement to fit the 41mm case.
There is more than meets the eye everywhere you look. Secret stories, deeper meanings, thoughts on top of thoughts. I hope this reflects me as much as I feel it reflects Kari.
This is an IYKUK watch. And now you know – or do you?
