Horological Mastery in Graphite: The Art of Tamás Fehér

There is a profound connection between the world of high-end watchmaking and fine art. Both require an obsession with detail, a steady hand, and an immense amount of patience. Today, I want to share a piece that perfectly captures this intersection: a breathtaking pencil drawing of the A. Lange & Söhne 1815 Chronograph by Hungarian artist Tamás Fehér.

Tamás’s journey into the world of "Watch Art" is as fascinating as the drawings themselves. Previously a professional in real estate development, he felt a deep-seated need to create something truly creative. Inspired by his father - a jeweler and watchmaker - and a lifelong love for the precision of graphite, Tamás transitioned to a full-time artist in late 2019. "I wanted to spend an almost insane amount of time with a single watch, exploring every tiny detail. Drawing felt like the perfect way to do that."

The first commission project that Tom (I call him Tom) did for me was the Roger Dubuis Sympathie Chronograph Perpetual Calendar Biretrograde. Many years later, he did the more complex A. Lange & Söhne 1815 Chronograph - both drawings hang proudly in my living room. I share here with you the interview I had with Tom and his journey around his craft. Enjoy these incredible photos of his drawings!

Who is Tamás the artist?

First of all, thank you very much for the interview. It is always a pleasure to talk about my work. My name is Tamás Fehér, and I am a pencil artist from Hungary. I am a happy father of a newborn daughter.

I started my watch art collection at the end of 2019. Before that, I worked in real estate development. It was a solid career, but I felt a strong need to create something truly creative. When I sold my first drawing, I quit my full-time job immediately.

How did you start pencil drawing?

Drawing has been my main hobby since early childhood. Whenever I saw something interesting, often in a movie, my father and I would sit down and draw together.

I fell in love with the precision of graphite and the incredible level of detail that can be achieved with it. During my school years, I learned from many talented artists and teachers, for whom I am very grateful.

What sparked your watch drawing journey?

My father is a jeweller and watchmaker, and he had a very successful career in the industry. Because of him, I was exposed to watches at a very young age. However, the moment I truly fell in love with watches was in 2004, when I saw a Breitling Navitimer in a magazine.

The idea of the watch art collection came later. I wanted to spend an almost insane amount of time with a single watch, exploring every tiny detail. Drawing felt like the perfect way to do that.

When you draw a watch, how many pencils do you usually have with you?

Too many!

I have five large boxes of drawing tools, and these are only the ones I actually use. I am constantly experimenting to find what works best with my style. That said, the pencil is not the most important tool, the paper is. When I first tried a watercolor paper I am using, it completely changed my work.

What is the difference between “normal” paper and watercolour paper, and how does that affect your drawings?

Watercolour paper is a very thick, cotton based paper with a pronounced texture. Because of this surface, drawings tend to appear rougher and more expressive compared to those made on smoother paper.

While it is technically more challenging to work with, especially for fine details, this texture complements my style very well on a larger scale and adds depth and character to the final artwork.

How large is your table?

My desk is not very big, it’s the paper that’s big. I work section by section minimising the space utilised.

What are the steps you follow when starting a project?

I always begin by studying the watch itself, its history, structure, and details. This research phase is essential.

Next, I create small rough sketches to test the composition and decide how the drawing will sit on the paper.

For the final piece, I use the grid technique. A light grid is applied both to the reference image and to the paper. This allows me to draw a very precise draft without shading, just a clean, accurate outline.

After that, I begin shading. This is the longest part of the process, with over 100 hours required for my standard large-format works. Once finished, I photograph the drawing, because imperfections are much easier to spot in photos than with the naked eye. I correct them, then repeat this process several times.

And then, it’s finished. Very quick process! 😊

Do you fix the paper and move around the table, or do you rotate the paper as you draw?

I rotate the paper. Certain pencil lines work better at specific angles, so I need to turn the paper several times to achieve the best result.

What is the toughest part of drawing?

Some watches are always a huge challenge - especially the Audemars Piguet Royal Oak and Nautilus style watches by Patek. Their dials are insanely difficult to draw.

Colored drawings are also very challenging. Colored pencils are much stickier than graphite, which makes clean, precise lines harder to achieve. This is why I prefer graphite, my most precise works are done with it. But, people love color, so I work with both.

How long does it take to finish one drawing?

It depends on the size and the complexity of the watch, but usually 100+ hours.

Thankfully, I truly love what I do, so I can draw 10–12 hours a day. Of course, the body needs care during such long sessions. I train with a professional who specializes in spinal health and posture-related issues, and I’m very thankful for her support.

How do you research the watch and its movement?

I have a strong collection of watch books, and if the specific piece appears in one of them, I start there. I also research extensively online to deepen my understanding.

Do owners send photos to you, or do you research them yourself?

Usually, owners send photos. However, photographing such small objects, especially movements, is very difficult, particularly with a phone. In some cases, clients send me the actual watch, but most of the time I have to be… creative.

Which was your first watch drawing?

My first watch drawing was the Breitling Navitimer I mentioned earlier. It was the first watch I truly fell in love with. After I began selling my artworks, I was finally able to afford the watch itself. I still own it today and wear it regularly, which gives the piece a very personal significance.

What watches do you own, and do you draw them?

I now have a collection that I’m very proud of. It’s not as large or as valuable as many of my client’s collections, but it feels perfectly balanced to me.

To mention a few highlights, I own a few vintage Rolex watches, a 1969 pre Moon Omega Speedmaster, which I purchased from a stuntman and which comes with an incredible backstory, and a 1967 black dial Heuer Carrera in exceptional condition. That Carrera pairs perfectly with my 1967 black Ford Mustang GT, a car I absolutely love.

I also own a Tudor Black Bay that holds special emotional value. Two of my closest friends own the exact same model. We bought them together.

I do draw my own watches from time to time, especially when there is a strong personal connection to the piece.

If you were to choose three of the most demanding drawings, which would they be and why?

1. FP Journe Tourbillon Souverain Prototype

This piece was created in collaboration with the FP Journe Collectors Club community. I produce a drawing for them every year, but this time I wanted to create something truly special, as the Tourbillon Souverain is my favourite FP Journe watch of all time. The expectations were high, both technically and emotionally, which made it particularly demanding.

2. Audemars Piguet Royal Oak Michael Schumacher

This was my second commission for Christie’s and featured Michael Schumacher’s personal Royal Oak. The pressure was intense: the deadline was very tight, and I knew the artwork would be exhibited at the Four Seasons Hotel alongside the actual watch. On top of that, the Royal Oak is exceptionally challenging to draw due to its “guilloché dial”.

3. Paul Newman’s Paul Newman

The watch itself is not especially difficult to draw. However, I wanted to place it in a dynamic setting, incorporating a racetrack and heavy smoke. I quickly realised that creating realistic smoke on paper is far more complex than it appears, which made this piece unexpectedly challenging.

A Celebration of Detail

It takes a special kind of talent to render the soul of a mechanical watch using nothing but wood and lead. Tamás Fehér hasn't just drawn a watch; he has captured the very spirit of horological craftsmanship.

You may follow him on Instagram @darksideofthewatch or write to him at fehertamas4444@gmail.com should you want to commission a work. Hope you like the blog covering his work!

The Architecture of a Chronograph: The A. Lange & Söhne 1815

The A. Lange & Söhne 1815 Chronograph is often described by collectors as the "purist’s" choice. While its older sibling, the Datograph, famously disrupted the industry in 1999, the 1815 Chronograph arrived to strip away the distractions, leaving behind nothing but perfect proportions and one of the most beautiful movements ever cased in a wristwatch. As an owner of this piece, you know that the experience is one of duality: a quiet, understated elegance on the dial side, and a breathtaking, mechanical "cityscape" on the back.

Difference between Datograph and 1815 Chrono – Beyond the Big Date

To understand the 1815 Chronograph, one must understand its relationship with the Datograph. When the Datograph was released in 1999, it was a huge moment, not only for Lange but for the watch industry – it was the first completely new, in-house, high-end manual-wind chronograph movement in decades.

Photo Credit: tickingways

The 1815 Chronograph is the refined, "purist" evolution of that revolution. Here is a comparison as to the difference between the 2 with me choosing the 1815 over its more famous sibling.

1. The "Big Date" vs. The "Big Clean"

The most obvious difference is the Outsize Date (the "Big Date"). The Datograph: Features the signature double-window Big Date at 12 o’clock. This creates an equilateral triangle with the two sub-dials, a design Lange is famous for. It is technical, bold, and very "Lange."

The 1815: Removes the date entirely. This allows the dial to breathe and pushes the aesthetic back toward 19th-century pocket watches. For many collectors, the 1815 is the "cleaner" design and I like it for that.

2. Case Thickness: The "Wrist Presence" Factor

Because the 1815 lacks the date mechanism (which sits on top of the movement), the watch is significantly thinner – 13.1mm versus 11mm for the 1815 Chrono.

The 1815 slides under a shirt cuff much more easily. It feels like a dress watch that happens to be a chronograph, whereas the Datograph feels like a sports watch in a tuxedo.

3. Roman vs. Arabic: The Personality Shift

While Roman numerals found in the Datograph has a classic feel, I much prefer the crisp, quick-glance clarity and modern aesthetic of Arabic numerals on a watch dial. The Arabic numerals on the 1815 are a direct nod to Ferdinand Lange’s historic pocket watches.

The Datograph features a racing-inspired Tachymeter scale – measuring speed while the 1815 features a Pulsometer scale used for measuring heart rates.

4. The Movement Architecture (L951.1 vs. L951.5)

While they look nearly identical from the back, there are subtle differences in the calibres. Both share the same DNA: Both feature the same column-wheel control, horizontal clutch, and instantaneous jumping minute counter. They both share that incredible three-dimensional depth.

But there are differences: The Datograph movement (L951.1/6) has the additional module and gearing required to drive the outsize date. The 1815 movement (L951.0/5) is essentially the same movement but stripped of the date complication, leading to a more direct connection to the gear train.

Now on to the 1815 Chronograph – A Tale of Two Sides

The Dial: The Art of Simplicity

Lange’s 1815 line is named after the birth year of founder Ferdinand Lange, and the aesthetic is a direct homage to his historic pocket watches.

The 1815 Chronograph is the follow-up to the legendary Datograph but removing the "Big Date". The dial is a study in restraint. With its railroad track scale and deep blue hands, it feels like a 19th-century pocket watch shrunk down for the wrist.

It doesn't scream for attention; it waits for a discerning eye to notice the silver graining and the perfect alignment of its sub-dials.

The Layout: The dial is a masterclass in balance. The two sub-dials (running seconds and the 30-minute counter) are positioned slightly below the horizontal centre line. This prevents the "bug-eye" look found in many chronographs and creates a stable, grounded feel.

The Details: The "railway track" minute scale, the bold Arabic numerals, and the lancet-shaped hands are quintessentially German.

The Pulsometer: The outer Pulsometer scale adds a layer of vintage sophistication. It allows a doctor (or a curious enthusiast) to measure a heart rate over 30 beats – nod to the "tool watch" history of high-end chronometry.

Those lovely blue hands on that white dial is just irresistable!

The Movement: The Architecture of the L951.5

But the real magic happens when you turn it over. The Calibre L951.5 is, quite simply, a masterpiece of mechanical architecture. Looking through the sapphire caseback is like looking into a miniature Glashütte workshop. You can see the column wheel standing proud, the hand-engraved balance cock beating at 18,000 vph, and the complex maze of levers that make the flyback function possible.

There is a specific joy in winding this timepiece. The resistance is perfect, and the "snap" of the jumping minute counter is a mechanical marvel that never gets old. It reminds you that time isn't just something to be tracked – it’s something to be engineered.

Turning this watch over is often described as a "religious experience" for horologists. The movement architecture is where the 1815 Chronograph separates itself from almost everything else in the world.

1. Three-Dimensional Depth

Most chronograph movements are relatively flat. The Lange L951 family is famously three-dimensional. You aren't just looking at a machine; you are looking at a miniature city of bridges, levers, and gears stacked on multiple levels. This depth is achieved by using untreated German silver (Maillechort) for the bridges, which over time develops a warm, golden patina.

2. The Column-Wheel Heart

At the centre of the operation is the column wheel. This traditional mechanism is significantly harder to manufacture than a modern cam-actuated system. When you press the pusher, the column wheel rotates, and the "fingers" of the chronograph levers fall into its teeth. This results in a "click" that is buttery smooth and tactile – arguably the best-feeling pusher in the industry I dare say.

3. Flyback and Instantaneous Jumping Minutes

The 1815 is a flyback chronograph, meaning you can reset and restart the timer with a single press of the bottom pusher. More impressively, it features an instantaneous jumping minute counter. While most chronographs have a minute hand that sweeps slowly, the Lange hand "snaps" to the next minute exactly as the seconds hand crosses the 60-second mark. Not something you find in other high end chronograph movements.

Behind the Lens: Capturing a Mechanical Cityscape

They say you buy a Lange for the movement, but you keep it for the details. However, as any owner of the 1815 Chronograph will tell you, capturing those details on camera is a journey in itself. Photographing this watch isn't like photographing a flat-dialed timepiece; it’s more like landscape photography, where the "mountains" are bridges of German silver and the "valleys" are the deep recesses of the column-wheel mechanism.

The Challenge of Depth

When I first pointed my macro lens at the Calibre L951.5, I realized my standard settings wouldn't work. Because the movement is so three-dimensional, the depth of field is incredibly shallow. If I focused on the hand-engraved balance cock, the column wheel just a few millimeters away became a blur. A challenge but a challenge worth taking on with my Panasonic GH4.

Taming the Light

Then there is the matter of the "Black Polish." Lange’s watchmakers polish the steel levers to such a mirror-like finish that they reflect everything in the room. In my early shots, the levers appeared black or muddy. I had to create a "light tent" using nothing but tracing paper and diffused LEDs to ensure that the light hit those surfaces perfectly, revealing the brilliant, silvery glow that characterizes high-end Glashütte finishing.

A Warmth You Can’t Fake

One thing I obsessed over was the color of the German Silver (Maillechort). Unlike the cold, rhodium-plated bridges found in most Swiss watches, Lange’s untreated German silver has a faint, straw-colored warmth. In post-processing, I was careful not to "correct" this to white. I wanted the photos to reflect the actual experience of holding the watch in the sunlight — that golden, aged-parchment hue that makes a Lange feel like a living thing.

The "Aha!" Moment

While my favourite shot in this set is the overall architecture of the entire movement, the one that got me is the one focusing on what's beneath the surface - especially the instantaneous jumping minute snail. It’s a tiny part, tucked away, but through the macro lens, you can see the microscopic bevelling on its edges. It hit me then: someone spent hours hand-polishing a part that is 99% invisible to the naked eye.

Spending hours behind the lens trying to capture that detail felt like my own small way of honouring the watchmaker's obsession. I hope these images give you a sense of why this watch is so special to me. It isn’t just a tool for telling time; it’s a masterpiece that rewards you every time you look closer.

The Evolution of the 1815 Chronograph

The most significant upgrade between the generations lies in the power reserve and the hairspring. The first generation (L951.0) was often criticized for its relatively short 36-hour power reserve, which barely lasted a day and a half. With the introduction of the Calibre L951.5 in 2010, Lange engineers managed to almost double the power reserve to a more practical 60 hours. This was achieved by optimizing the mainspring barrel without significantly increasing the movement's thickness. Furthermore, the second generation marked Lange’s transition to using their own in-house manufactured balance springs, a feat of vertical integration that very few watch manufactures can lay claim to.

From the above picture from my archive, I really can't tell the difference between the two movements... Can you?

Aesthetically, the 1815 Chronograph experienced a controversial update in 2010. The original model was popular for its pulsometer scale, which gave the dial a technical, vintage "Doctor's Watch" look. When the second generation was released, Lange removed the pulsometer, resulting in a cleaner but possibly "emptier" dial that relied only on a standard minute track. This change lasted until 2015, when Lange relented to collector feedback and reintroduced the pulsometer scale for the Boutique Edition (White Gold/Blue numerals) and the subsequent permanent White Gold/Black dial version. This return to the original layout reinforced the 1815 Chronograph's reputation as the perfect combination of historical tribute and modern mechanical innovation.

And then there is more...

As if the timepiece is not enough, I commission a hand drawn picture of the timepiece - to be able to see the front and back at the same time. In a masterful pencil drawing, Tom from @darksideofthewatch (Instagram) captures the sophisticated architecture of the 1815 Chronograph with remarkable precision. His rendering focuses on the classic, balanced dial — meticulously sketching the Roman numerals, the elegant railroad minute track, and the distinctive pulsometer scale that curves around the edge. (I'll do another post on his drawings).

The artistry lies in the subtle play of light and shadow, using delicate graphite gradients to give depth to the sub-dials and a three-dimensional presence to the blued steel hands. This drawing doesn't just depict a watch; it celebrates the quiet, cerebral beauty of German horology, transforming precise engineering into an expressive work of art on paper.

Conclusion

While the Datograph is the watch that put Lange back on the horology map, the 1815 Chronograph is the watch they made for the person who already knows the landscape. By removing the date, they didn't take away from the watch; they added a different dimension. It uses the same legendary movement, but in a slimmer, more ergonomic case that pays a purer homage to the heritage of Glashütte. For me, the perfect chronograph would be one where the movement may be flipped upside down ala Reverso and I'm confident I'll almost always have the movement side up...

So, what will it be for you? The Datograph or the 1815 Chronograph?