As the founder of the independent watch brand 47Zero, Cormac Hanley produces about seven mechanical timepieces a month. That could be considered unremarkable except for the fact he is still recovering from a stroke he had in 2017.
A native of Ireland, Mr. Hanley moved to France in 2007 with his young family and had worked as a professional photographer until the medical emergency. But after six months at a convalescent home and despite what he described as unwavering family support, he knew a change of career was necessary.
In 2021, he entered the 18-month program at Òfil Osons l’Emploi, a publicly funded vocational school with a horology program that trains individuals with disabilities to become watchmakers.
At the time, Òfil’s horology program was based in Annecy, a city in southeastern France; in 2023, it moved to the institution’s second campus in nearby Cluses. There, its industrial programs are housed in simple off-white buildings surrounded by stunning Alpine foothills that, during a visit in October, were displaying hints of autumn color.
Despite the course’s challenges, Mr. Hanley, now 55, said he benefited from the “competencies in watchmaking” he developed, the camaraderie of students and staff members — and the opportunity to indulge his interest in designing dials, something that has become his passion.
He was in a class of 14 students — each year the program accepts about 24 — and trained with Guillaume Mathieu, a third-generation watchmaker who worked for F.P. Journe, Breguet and Jaeger-LeCoultre before joining the school 15 years ago.
The students are taught to diagnose and solve problems in mechanical and quartz timepieces using both traditional and modern methods; learn office and customer service skills; and complete an internship. Those who pass a final examination earn a certification — in French, a titre — in watchmaking.
The institution said that about 60 percent of its students who earn certifications in one of its many programs, which include secretarial skills, property maintenance, baking and hospitality, do secure employment.
“But being in this institution means they’ve had to participate in society, learn things and meet deadlines,” Mr. Mathieu said. “Even if they don’t find work immediately afterwards, they have that.”
Mr. Hanley, who was eager to set up his atelier, skipped his final exam to start 47Zero, a name that he said refers to starting over at age 47 after the stroke.
“You believed in yourself, and you believed in your own project,” Bernard Kozior, the school’s director, said to Mr. Hanley during an October visit to the school, “and you were brave enough to say, ‘I’m going to take my own route.’”
Mr. Hanley’s mechanical dress watches, the industry term for the kind of thin timepieces typically worn with suits or evening wear, have hand-finished dials and Swiss movements. And his brand has attracted a following in online watch forums such as Micro Indy Collective in Dubai, United Arab Emirates.
Again and Again
On that October afternoon, several of the program’s watchmaking students were preparing to go home but were still wearing their white lab coats and, in traditional watchmaker style, had magnifying loupes stuck to their foreheads.
What had they done that day? “Our professor gave us a movement,” offered Alexis Beaupin, referring to her instructor, Denis Jarjat, “and we had to service it again and again and again.”
In the playful dig at her instructor, Ms. Beaupin had cited a key teaching approach at the school: repetition — and giving students unlimited time to finish tasks that learners without physical and mental challenges might do more quickly. The method is what most distinguishes the program from a typical watchmaking school, Mr. Jarjat said.
Founded in 1943, the program initially enrolled students who primarily had physical injuries from accidents, repetitive manual work or medical incidents. But in the past decade or so, staff members said, students with mental health conditions, cognitive disorders and traumatic brain injuries have become more common. (French law requires that an applicant with an official recognition as a disabled worker must be accepted into the program, unless there are problems such as poor motor function; if classes are full, the applicant must be added to a waiting list.)
Rather than physical support, Mr. Jarjat said, most of the students, who range in age from 16 to their late 50s, need a stress-free environment and time to process complex watchmaking tasks at their own pace — and to repeat them until they can be performed almost automatically.
“When you’re in a real life situation, it’s easy to lose your capacities because of anxiety or stress,” said Mr. Jarjat, who attended the program himself after an accident in the 1990s and returned in 2003 after a career servicing watches. “So it’s important to repeat everything, until what you have learned becomes second nature.”
Until the early 2000s, the program’s graduates frequently were hired by Swiss and French watch brands and companies specializing in watch service and repairs — but that has become rare in recent years.
“It’s tough times in the watch industry,” Mr. Jarjat said. “The objective for us now is to create the highest percentage chance that students will be employable after their time here.” So instructors have adapted the program, including more training on three-dimensional printers and other machinery used at local factories, many of which once produced watch parts but have since diversified.
Ms. Beaupin, however, said her goal was to start a business restoring vintage watches. Asked what she had learned that might help realize that dream, she said she had started the program only a month ago but planned to bring in some vintage watches for practice sessions.
“We can bring any watches we want to repair here,” she said, “and our professor will help us.”
Every Day Is Golden
After his stroke, Mr. Hanley had to relearn how to walk, talk and perform basic tasks. He comforted himself during his days in the convalescent home by holding a Cartier Santos Gablée quartz watch that his family had given him in 1992 to celebrate his engagement.
His connection to the watch sparked a chain of events, including his time at Òfil, that culminated in 2023 when he and his wife, Gráinne Lavelle Hanley, started 47Zero.
The couple now runs the brand out of a start-up development hub in Chavanod, a small town near their home in Annecy. There, Mr. Hanley builds watches and Ms. Lavelle Hanley runs the business side of the brand.
The brand’s seven designs have stainless steel cases in three dimensions and Swiss STP 1-11 movements. Priced from 1,000 to 2,400 euros ($1,160 to $2,785), they are sold through the brand’s website and an online shop run by Tim Hozhäuser, a German watch aficionado with a popular YouTube channel.
The watches have hand finished dials with designs that Mr. Hanley said were inspired by the stroke, how it upended his life, yet enabled a new one. For example, the dial of the La Date Dorée, Havana model has a date indicator that offers peeks of 24-karat gold leaf. It serves as a “constant reminder that every day is golden,” Mr. Hanley said.
Another model, Odd-Hours, has hour markers that at first seem haphazardly positioned but after “a step back and a deep breath, everything falls into place,” Mr. Hanley explained, a philosophy he said has guided him since the stroke.
Michiel Holthinrichs, the founder of the Dutch brand Holthinrichs Watches, said in an email that he enjoyed talking with Mr. Hanley about the watch market and life in general when Mr. Hanley interned at the brand during his Òfil days.
“Probably his brain after the stroke literally made him see things differently,” he continued, “and he chose, very bravely, to make this his asset.”
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