Berneron’s Quantième Annuel Redefines The Sophomore Release

Geneva Watch Days has kicked off, and so far the trickle of new models feels cautious, with smaller independents carrying much of the early momentum. Normally, this is when the keyboard warrior in me would be hammering away, trying to spin every press release and conversation into some digestible jargon, hoping to beat the other five watch outlets doing exactly the same.

This year I wanted to take a slightly different approach in covering the week-long deluge of marketing material: instead of racing to echo press releases, I’ve let the initial wave settle. I’ve taken the time to read, digest, and find firmer footing before weighing in. (As a wise man once told me, you need to let the thoughts gel). And of all the watches that have metaphorically crossed my desk, one stands out. It is not from the usual heavyweight brands, but from Berneron, the young watchmaker who, despite only one prior release to his name, has already become one of the most celebrated independents working today.

What makes Berneron’s sophomore effort compelling isn’t just the watch itself, but the reaction it has generated. While many outlets have simply reprinted the press copy, I want to step away from the PR echo chamber and evaluate the watch on its own terms. Where mainstream brands keep tinkering with dial colors and bezel trims, Berneron has chosen a harder road: following his radical debut, the Mirage, with a watch that looks and feels entirely different (completely symmetrical vs the asymmetrical Mirage) yet still retains his own design identity. That in itself is no small feat, since plenty of “one hit wonders” have faltered trying to strike gold a second time.

The Mirage, for all its hype, was at heart a modern interpretation of the Crash. The movement came first, and the math behind its asymmetry was groundbreaking. The execution was original and full of character, with striking dial options from lapis to tiger’s eye to sienna and Prussian blue. It was innovative, it was cool, and it set a high bar. But in many ways it remained a clever riff on a familiar theme.

Which is why Berneron’s second act feels so important. At its core, watchmaking has always been the interplay of design and innovation, a craft born out of problem solving, stretching back to water clocks and the origins of civilization. His new release, the Quantième Annuel, carries that spirit forward. It is a watch that blends design elements reminiscent of the Zeitwerk and Patek’s 5496, but does so with an originality that makes it stand apart. It is classical yet fresh, symmetrical yet inventive, and most importantly it feels considered rather than contrived.

Berneron doesn’t have centuries of marketing friendly provenance to lean on. He can’t invoke “heritage” as shorthand for substance. Instead, like Rexhep Rexhepi, he is building his name the old fashioned way through design, craft, and integrity. In an era where heritage is too often reduced to a sales pitch, Berneron is proving that if you create something truly meaningful, collectors will come. (Field Of Dreams anyone?)

The Movement

I truly believe that choosing to create an annual calendar as opposed to the more celebrated perpetual, is a genius move. The complication itself is relatively young in watchmaking terms, with Patek Philippe introducing the first annual calendar in 1996 with the reference 5035. Since then, it has occupied a somewhat split identity among collectors: perpetual calendars command the spotlight, but annuals have steadily earned their place in the pantheon.

For Berneron, the decision is telling. He clearly didn’t want to be pigeonholed by the Mirage, which put him on the map, but also divided opinion. It would have been easy to stay in that lane, capitalizing on its polarizing success. Instead, he chose the harder path.

To tell the time, your eye moves up and down the dial: the jumping hour sits at the top, minutes are read in the middle, and running seconds track along the bottom. For the calendar, the layout flips—day, date, and month are arranged across the horizontal axis. Where these two paths cross, you’ll notice a small AM/PM window that flips from white to black at noon. The neat twist is that the AM/PM indicator is the only complication that technically bridges both the time and the calendar displays.

The caliber has been constructed to echo the dial’s balance, with its components arranged in a deliberately symmetrical fashion. Berneron refers to the flow of energy as a kind of “mirror sequence.” The the cadrature, or under dial work, is absolutely impeccable with all steelwork straight grained with polished flanks and angles.

The movement crafted from 18K gold incorporates a “quadruple jump,” with four displays. The hour, day, month, and AM/PM all advance together in perfect unison at midnight on December 31st. At that same instant, the retrograde date hand snaps back to 1. Rather than demanding a sudden surge of power to trigger everything at once, the mechanism cleverly distributes the workload: each cam slowly accumulates energy over its own cycle (the day cam across 24 hours, the month cam over 28–31 days, and so on), holding it until release. You can think of it like an orchestra: every instrument rehearses its part quietly in advance, then joins together for a single dramatic crescendo at the appointed time. These cams essentially act as miniature reservoirs of stored energy within the movement, layered atop the two mainspring barrels already powering the watch.

It may not be technically new, but there is a level of innovation there that I truly appreciate.

Next, as someone who has tried and admittedly failed to set a calendar watch more times than I care to remember, Berneron built in a fail safe mode for us simpletons. Again, this isn’t new but it is innovative. According to Berneron, perfecting this protective feature demanded an extra year of research and development beyond the time already devoted to creating the base caliber.

In most traditional calendar watches, the mechanism is engineered to move in only one direction. Time does only move forward after all. If you try to push a calendar watch into an impossible scenario, for example advancing from January 31 straight to February 31, you can force the cams into a mechanical limbo where the system doesn’t know how to proceed. Berneron calls this “no man’s land.” When that happens, the watch effectively seizes up, and the only fix is a trip to the bench for a watchmaker to take the movement apart and reset the cams. Less than ideal scenario.

Berneron approached this problem by designing a safety net within the movement itself. Rather than locking up in these limbo states, his mechanism recognizes the error and instantly resets the date to 1, a safe reference point from which the wearer can resume setting the watch correctly. It is almost like he built a parallel logic system into the caliber, one that can catch mistakes and guide the watch back to order without intervention. Another way of looking at this “fail-safe” is to imagine a calendar watch as a train running on a set of tracks. Normally, the train only moves forward. If you accidentally try to drive it onto a section of track that doesn’t exist, the whole train could derail and stop.

What Berneron did was build a little side track with a switch. If the train heads toward an impossible stretch, the switch automatically diverts it safely back to the starting station, the “1st” of the month, where it can continue running without damage. So instead of a parallel logic system, you might call it a built-in escape route or a mechanical safety switch. It’s a clever way of ensuring the watch never crashes into an error state, even if the user makes a mistake.
This watch doesn’t just keep time, it also protects itself from human error, which is something, I feel, more mechanical innovation should aspire to.

The Case

This is usually the point where the pundits start thumbing their noses, kicking the can, and finding something to gripe about, often in ways that cut straight at the watchmaker. I understand the mixed chorus of takes: on one hand, collectors asking for more honesty in reviews, and on the other, calls for more kindness and optimism. The truth is that reviewers are, by nature, critics. A few, like Jack, rise above into the realm of historians, but for most of us it is not unlike reviewing a book or a film, you inevitably look for the detail that brings the creation down a notch.

On this watch, the areas most likely to take abuse such as the bezel, lug ends, crown, and similar contact points are not made of platinum at all. Instead, Berneron has mounted steel elements onto the case, secured with screws, so that when the watch clips a door frame or slams off your baby’s crib, it is the steel that bears the scars rather than the softer precious metal.

The clever twist is that these steel parts are designed to be swapped out by the owner. Scratch a lug? In theory, you can order a fresh piece, grab a screwdriver, and handle the repair yourself without ever sending the watch back. It is essentially six pieces of 904L steel acting as modular armor against daily knocks.

From a purely practical standpoint, it is ingenious and at the same time a bit of an over-engineered solution to a problem I am unsure exists. That said, I cannot help feeling conflicted. One of the reasons I love platinum is the way it carries its history, and every dent and scratch proudly. In a sense, those imperfections are part of the romance. A platinum watch that looks too fresh risks losing some of that lived-in poetry.

Finally, the officer’s caseback. Not to be mistaken for a hunter’s caseback, this detail appeals deeply to the historian in me and is one of the touches I truly love. It feels like the best of both worlds. While I enjoy marveling at the mechanics through an open display back, there is a certain mystique that comes with a solid caseback. That element of mystery, the sense that something remarkable is hidden just out of sight, adds a layer of allure that, for me, elevates a high-end watch.

To clarify the difference: A hunter’s caseback traces its roots to pocket watches, where the “hunter case” was a metal lid that protected the dial from damage in the field. When adapted to wristwatches, the hunter’s caseback became a solid hinged cover on the back of the watch. Its original role was purely functional, shielding the dial from dust, sweat, and knocks. Today, it still carries that practical heritage, though it can also serve a decorative role depending on the maker.

An officer’s caseback, on the other hand, emerged in the early 20th century, most notably on military watches worn by officers. This design paired a transparent sapphire display back with a hinged metal lid. The idea was to preserve the durability of a hunter-style cover while also giving the option to view the movement when desired. Unlike the hunter’s caseback, which was born from utility, the officer’s caseback has always leaned toward ceremony and presentation, often engraved with dedications, crests, or commemorative inscriptions.

My Take

Among all the new releases from GWD, this one stood out because it wasn’t just another shade of burgundy or a new bezel material made from some alloy I had never heard of. It was an entirely new watch that was conceived, designed, and funded with personal capital (and a few investors), not the endless resources of a major brand. It isn’t flawless, and if I lean into my nitpicky critic side, as stated previously, the design language echoes watches we’ve already seen. But maybe that’s the point.

The heart of independent watchmaking isn’t about perfection. (We can tell ourselves whatever lies we want). These watches feel like living things, evolving alongside their creators. That, I think, is why Berneron resonates so strongly with the collectors. None of the technical features here are wholly unprecedented on their own, but when you bring them together, the case module, the officers caseback, the fail-safe setting system, the balanced proportions, the thoughtful design … the result is a complete work of horology that feels both authentic and forward-looking. It doesn’t read as another luxury trinket to show off, but as a cohesive creation with purpose.

And maybe that’s what the industry needs more of: not endless novelty, but the courage to craft something whole. Something new, even if it borrows fragments of the old. As Vonnegut once wrote, “Practice any art, no matter how well or badly, you will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”

Specs

The Berneron Quantième Annuel is a 38mm by 10mm timepiece crafted in a mix of platinum and steel, with a black and silver dial and no lume. It is water resistant to 30 meters and paired with a tapered 20–16mm Barenia leather strap. At its heart is the manually wound Caliber 595, an 18k gold construction (main plate and bridges) made up of 476 components and 33 jewels. Measuring 30mm wide and just 5.95mm thick, the movement offers a 100-hour (4-day) power reserve, beats at 21,600 vph (3Hz), and is not chronometer certified. Its complications include an annual calendar and jumping hour, requiring correction only once per year on February 28. Production is limited to 24 pieces per dial color annually over ten years, with pricing set at CHF 120,000 before 2026, CHF 130,000 in 2027, and CHF 140,000 in 2028. For more details visit Berneron.ch.