Montblanc

First, the Grande Seconde version is undeniably large by anyone's standards. The specified diameter of 47 mm infers a decision . . .

. . . to accept its considerable size. There is a version with a different base movement at a more manageable diameter of 41 mm, but the Grande version is objectively tolerable on my slender wrist. Here are profile photos taken from different perspectives:

These photos convey the sense of proportion that Montblanc's designers imparted . . . the objectively large size of the case is ameliorated by the relative height, the gently rounded contours, and the hue of rose gold, all of which serve to make its appearance manageable on most wrists. The crown is usefully and pleasingly proportioned to the case. The overall dimensions are driven by the size of the base cal 16-18 movement of 38.4 mm x 6.3mm, but as can be seen by this photo, the movement is proportional to the case:

A compensating ring or case design would've been cause for criticism, so I feel it's only fair to applaud Montblanc for crafting the Grande Seconde with an eye for both proportion and mechanical integrity.

The dial design complements the movement in it's pursuit of extracting the greatest level of accuracy possible. The ability to consistently set the seconds hand to zero by pulling the crown should be obvious to the casual observer. What is not quite so immediately obvious is the manner in which the dial and hands layout similarly facilitates time-setting duties. In this photo . . .

. . . you can see the tip of the seconds hand set to the outer edge of the track, while the minutes hand is precisely set to the inner edge, and the hour hand is circumscribed within the hour track. In the next two photos . . .

. . . the minute hand is clearly sweeping right over the marker, and lined up with the stroke on inner minute marker track. The effect is subtle, but contributes to legibility.

My previous sentiments about the dial were transformed shortly after receiving the Retour-à-Zéro. What at first glance seemed unnecessarily ornate revealed itself to be art in the service of functionality. The central positioning of the hour chapters is, on reflection, a brilliant move on the part of the designer(s) to absorb the vast open space of the dial. The juxtaposition of a short hours to a long minutes hand seems slightly odd until the utility for the placement of the hour chapter was realized. The acclimation process was surprisingly brief, and the initial aesthetic impression left by the two distinctive varieties of engraving with oddly proportioned hands quickly gave way to admiration. If the purpose of a watch is to tell time, and the raison d'être of an exquisite watch is to tell time in a correspondingly exquisite manner, then Montblanc succeeded admirably.

Montblanc's métier is movement construction and finishing . . .

. . . which proved magnificent to the unaided eye, and delectable under magnification. Every visible surface is finished to an exceedingly high level of the watchmaker's art.

Two comments. First, the construction of the cal 16-18 movement conveys an impression of indelible solidity. With some highly finished movements, the attention is first drawn to the details. Not so with the Retour-à-Zéro. The structure itself commands interest. The word "magnificent" comes to mind, and in my opinion, wholly deserved. The architecture, proportions, and most critically, the absolute size of the movement is simply remarkable.

Second, the finishing, while of the highest level, does not overwhelm as some others. The Minerva movement is more seductive than mesmerizing. It doesn't dazzle with intensity; rather, it beckons with a radiant glow.

I'm not sure what to attribute this to; what I can say is that comparisons with other lauded movements will not come up short in any objective sense. One can validly question the comparative intrinsic value of the Minerva movements in the Villeret line, but judging from this and other examples, they can stand up in direct comparison with any production movement under magnification. I've used the analogy of Rubens and Vermeer before . . .

. . . and it bears repeating here.

These close-ups of Minerva chronograph cal 13 - 21 movements . . .