Lords of Time
Time is a relative concept. Sometimes it drags its feet, sometimes it flies—but one thing is certain: it always passes. Even in antiquity, humanity had precise tools for measuring it. How we got from sundials to quartz watches is another story. Our latest selection is dedicated to time and the consecrated priests of timekeeping: the watchmakers.
Once considered the most complex of all precision crafts, watchmaking has a long tradition. In Hungary, watchmaking guilds began forming in the 18th century, though watchmakers often organized together with locksmiths, goldsmiths, or gunsmiths into common trade associations. A major turning point came with the Industrial Act of 1872, which caused frustration not only for watchmakers. The new law declared complete industrial freedom—meaning no one was required to prove their qualifications to work as an artisan. Naturally, certified craftsmen were unhappy with this arrangement. They feared their reputation would suffer if amateur tinkerers could practice the trade and customers grew dissatisfied with faulty mechanisms. Due to widespread protest, the law was amended several times. By 1884, proof of qualifications was required—but no distinction was made between trades. Thus, someone certified as a shoemaker could legally open a watchmaking business. It wasn’t until 1922 that the law was refined, restricting practitioners to work only within their certified trade.
Masters of the Tower Clocks
Today, countless devices can tell us the time—often with astounding precision—but it wasn't always this way. Those without pocket watches once had to rely on tower clocks, which, as József Takács notes in The History of Tower Clocks in Budapest, only offered approximate timekeeping. People found ways to adapt: for example, in Buda, residents used the noon cannon shot fired from the local secondary school (now Toldy Ferenc High School) as their daily signal.
Ferenc Csúry of Szeged was described by his son as an ambitious man. He learned the trade from János Brauswetter, also of Szeged, and opened his own workshop on Tábor Street in 1911. Csúry sold watches, jewelry, radios, and gramophones, and operated both a goldsmith workshop and a tower clock assembly plant.
His first tower clock commission came from the church in Újszeged in 1921. Since then, his work has adorned the towers of over 200 churches across the country—including the cathedral of Szeged. Another of his creations, the carillon installed in Dóm Square in 1936, remains a local highlight. Csúry eventually brought his son into the family business, but in 1949 their workshop was nationalized. Fortunately, the Ministry of Heavy Industry approached the elder Csúry to help establish a State Clock Factory in HeBudapest. He recommended his son, László Csúry, who was tasked with transforming a former grenade factory into a clockmaking plant. By 1960, the factory produced over fifty types of timekeeping devices—until East German, Czechoslovak, and Soviet manufacturers took over the market.
Old Masters from Pest to Pécs
The Hoser family was one of Pest-Buda’s most renowned watchmaking dynasties for nearly 150 years. György and András Hoser migrated from Vienna to Pest in 1815. György’s son, János, became a goldsmith, while András’s son, Viktor, continued in the family trade. Their workshop was originally at Ferenciek Square before Viktor moved it to Apród Street in the Tabán district.
Viktor Hoser’s most famous creation is without question the precision pendulum clock that still stands in the recessed façade of ELTE’s Faculty of Humanities building on Múzeum Boulevard, crafted in 1912. Scientists at the former cosmography institute used it to calibrate Central European Time with a tenth-of-a-second accuracy based on astronomical readings. Every Monday morning, the clock was wound manually with a special key.
In 1867 — the year of the Austro-Hungarian Compromise — Nándor Szigeti opened his shop on Hatvani Street (now Kossuth Lajos Street), near the National Casino. A member of a patrician Buda family, Szigeti spent his apprenticeship under the guidance of his aunt, who ran a goldsmith shop on what is now Deák Ferenc Street. In 1895, his son joined the business, and a year later—during the millennial celebrations—the shop was relocated to Ferenciek Square. In 1906, they moved again, this time to 17 Múzeum Boulevard, focusing mainly on silverware and cutlery production.
In Pécs, It Was “Hell, Not Vienna!” This was the witty slogan of József S. Hell, a watchmaker and jeweler in Pécs, whose shop on Király Street sold watches, rings, pendants, chains, and jewelry. Born in Sátoraljaújhely, Hell founded his business in 1901. According to period advertisements, he relocated the store around 1906 to 20 Király Street—an area already home to several watchmakers, including the recently deceased Ferenc Remes, the last of the Király Street watchmakers.
Today, it may seem that the golden age of watchmaking has passed. But perhaps there is still hope—for our entire lives revolve around time.
TÉ
translated by László Gönczi
Sources:
Délmagyarország, 2005. szeptember (95. évfolyam, 204-229. szám)
