n this particular day, as on every previous visit, Alexandre Beauregard welcomes us with a broad smile. Empathy seems to come so naturally to him that the comparison with that other Alexandre, played by Philippe Noiret in the 1968 film Alexandre le Bienheureux, is almost inevitable.

Yet the resemblance ends there. Noiret’s character, torn between extreme idleness and a quiet resistance to an already fast-paced society, contemplates the world from his bed, content and motionless thanks to an ingenious system of pulleys. Beauregard, by contrast, draws his happiness from intense creative activity — from an artistic life he has shaped entirely in his own image.

Born in Montreal, the fifty-something Canadian describes himself as a lapidary artist. His approach to stone cutting is, in his words, “more organic, almost sculptural”. A tireless hunter of exceptional gemstones, he travels every year to the major Tucson gem show in Arizona, where he has developed a particular fondness for Australian chrysoprase and tsavorite, which he considers “purer and more intense than emerald”.

His first watch collection revolved around the Dahlia. At the centre of the dial, a flying tourbillon — one of watchmaking’s rarest complications — appears to nestle within a bed of 48 petals, each painstakingly sculpted by hand by Beauregard himself. With no visible setting, the delicate composition seems almost impossible. Across these unique pieces, priced between €175,000 and €245,000, he works with mother-of-pearl, coral, turquoise and opal. The quality of execution and originality of the setting earned him a nomination at the Grand Prix d’Horlogerie de Genève in 2018 — a considerable achievement for an independent creator operating far from the traditional centres of Swiss watchmaking.

Born in Montreal, the fifty-something Canadian describes himself as a lapidary artist. His approach to stone cutting is “more organic, almost sculptural”. A tireless hunter of exceptional gemstones, he travels every year to the major Tucson gem show in Arizona.

How did Alexandre Beauregard become a lapidary artist? How did a Quebecer find his way into a jewellery world dominated by the great houses of Place Vendôme? And how did he manage to earn the trust of specialist watchmaking suppliers in the Jura Arc? We sat down with him to find out.

Europa Star: How did you become interested in gemstone cutting?

Alexandre Beauregard: I began by studying fashion design in Montreal, around 1993. It proved fundamental: learning to understand volume and texture, and how to turn a two-dimensional idea into a three-dimensional object. I met my wife on the very first day, and she has played a decisive role in my life ever since. From very early on, my personal and professional lives became closely intertwined.

Then, around 2010 or 2011, I met Yves Saint-Pierre through friends. He was probably the finest lapidary in North America. He worked with stones that nobody else dared touch, sometimes worth several million. He trained me in the old-fashioned way: first by making me observe, clean the workshop and understand the machines, and then by allowing me to progress gradually. It took five or six years. It was a very practical, hands-on apprenticeship. At the same time, I still had to earn a living. My wife and I had invested in real estate quite early, which gave us the financial freedom to pursue this path.

How did you go from being a lapidary artist to designing watches?

Originally, I wanted to create watches incorporating historic wood: very limited pieces, almost museum objects, linked to figures or events such as Napoleon or Beethoven. The idea was to give the object a historical soul.

The project was far too ambitious to undertake alone, so I went to EPHJ, the watchmaking subcontracting fair in Switzerland, and started meeting companies throughout the Jura Arc. I wanted to understand every stage of the process — polishing, cases, production — so that I would never have to delegate something without first understanding it myself.

I was incredibly fortunate. Workshops opened their doors to me even though, under normal circumstances, that would never have happened. People gave me a great deal without any immediate commercial logic behind it. It was simply the result of human connections.

How is Beauregard structured as a watchmaking company?

It is complicated because I do almost everything myself: workshop work, design, communication, supplier relations and project development. As a result, I spend less time actually cutting stone, which is frustrating. But that is the price of independence. You have to be honest: economically, it is irrational. For years, there is no salary, only investment. It is a decision that goes beyond what is reasonable. But it was the only way to do what I wanted to do.

How do you differ from traditional watchmaking?

I am not Swiss and I am not a watchmaker, and paradoxically that is a huge advantage. I do not have preconceived ideas. So when somebody tells me something is “impossible”, I do not really hear the word. I test it.

What role does design play?

The object itself is central. I am obsessed with design, with the beauty of things that are properly made. I have a deep admiration for Europe, where even the smallest details of everyday life are considered. In North America, everything tends to be functional. I almost feel physically uncomfortable with that.

“You have to be honest: economically, it is irrational. For years, there is no salary, only investment. It is a decision that goes beyond what is reasonable. But it was the only way to do what I wanted to do.”

Why has stone become so important to you?

Because when something moves me, it becomes an obsession. I wanted to understand stone in its entirety. I went straight to the source, especially in Arizona, visiting major fairs and extraction areas. Whenever possible, I buy the raw material directly. Some stones come from the United States, others from Italy or Africa. I prefer going to the source rather than working through intermediaries.

You use the term “precious stones” for some materials that gemmologists would classify as semi-precious or fine stones.

That terminology is largely marketing. Rarity and the intrinsic quality of the material should be the real criteria. Some stones are infinitely rarer than diamond or sapphire, but they are less profitable and therefore less visible.

How do you approach the setting of your dials?

Everything starts with stone “petals”. They are sorted, prepared and individually adjusted. A preliminary assembly is then carried out in Montreal to check the tolerances. Nothing is left to chance: every element has to fit perfectly. Traditional gemstone setting uses small gold claws. Here, the system works through compression between the stones themselves. Everything depends on the extreme precision of the cutting. The dial is then sent to Porrentruy, Switzerland, where it is assembled in specialist workshops.

How was your project received in the Jura Arc?

The people I met were very curious about my dials. I showed them what I wanted to achieve and, surprisingly often, doors opened.

What is the Beauregard workshop like?

It is a hybrid space, somewhere between a home and a workshop, where everything is integrated: a technical office for design, storage for stones and prototypes, areas for dial assembly, and benches for setting and finishing. Nothing is artificially separated. It is a living space, designed as much for experimentation as for production.

What is the defining technical feature of your approach?

We work to extremely fine tolerances, often below one tenth of a millimetre. Every stone is adjusted individually. If one piece is even slightly too large, the entire assembly can break.

What is your most important tool?

We have modified many of our machines because standard industrial equipment is simply not sufficient. Ultrasonic equipment lies at the heart of our technique. It allows us to work the stone with a degree of precision and freedom that would otherwise be impossible.

Ultrasound makes the first shaping stage almost organic. We use water and diamond powder to abrade the material with extreme finesse. It is an intermediate step between the raw stone and the final precision of the finished component: the machine prepares, but the hand decides.

The result sits somewhere between marquetry and stained glass, but in stone. Every element fits perfectly, with no visible gaps. Each stone has one exact place.

“We work to extremely fine tolerances, often below one tenth of a millimetre. Every stone is adjusted individually. If one piece is even slightly too large, the entire assembly can break.”

What place do stones occupy in your workshop?

They are everywhere, sorted by colour, origin and intended use. Some are extremely rare, others more common. We select, compare and reject a huge amount. Sorting is an essential part of the work.

How do you see the workshop evolving in the near future?

The workshop was designed to accommodate more people. We are still a small team today, but the space allows us to grow without losing the visual identity that I designed myself. Knowledge also has to be passed on organically. I am not necessarily interested in “teaching” in the formal sense. I would rather have people work alongside me. Transmission happens through practice, not theory.

What is your long-term vision?

To create a place for both living and making: an estate where the workshop, the community and the projects coexist. Not simply a brand, but an entire environment dedicated to craftsmanship.

My relationship with end clients has become increasingly personal. Some of them become friends. The watches are no longer just objects; they become points of connection. In a sense, we are building a community rather than a market.

If you had to sum up your workshop in one idea?

A place where the hand strives to do as well as — or even better than — the machine, with stone as the absolute starting point.

“The result sits somewhere between marquetry and stained glass, but in stone. Every element fits perfectly, with no visible gaps. Each stone has one exact place.”

Brief biography

1975 (19 February): Born in Montreal

1993: Studies fashion design and dressmaking at Collège Marie-Victorin, where he meets his future wife

2009: Founds the watch company Ville Marie in Montreal

2011: Meets Yves Saint-Pierre and begins his apprenticeship in stone cutting

2018: Launches the first Dahlia watch collection