Watchmaking doesn’t feel like the most 21st century profession. The job requires unwavering patience and a delicate touch, with watchmakers taking months or even years to create a single timepiece. Meanwhile, most people tell the time by looking at their phones. But this seemingly bygone profession appears to be enjoying a resurgence of interest triggered, at least in part, by Gen-Z’s enthusiasm for all things analog — and a desire for work far away from computer screens. For decades, the industry has warned of a labor shortage as older watchmakers retire. Experts spoken to by CNN, however, report promising levels of interest in the profession, despite ongoing worries over the departure of baby boomers across different specialties. Online watch communities have helped foster a new generation of horology enthusiasts, as connoisseurs young and old share their collections, spotlight master watchmakers and advertise second-hand and vintage watches for sale on platforms like TikTok Shop. This burgeoning resale market has generated demand not only for watchmakers, but for the expert repairers needed to revive treasures of the past, said Johann Kunz-Fernandez, director of the Watchmakers of Switzerland Training and Educational Program (WOSTEP), in a phone call with CNN. Young people could be a “saving point” to help reinvigorate the watch industry, added Kunz-Fernandez, who was struck by the uptick in their attendance at this year’s Watchers and Wonders, a major watch fair held annually in Geneva, Switzerland. “What I saw and discussed with some watch producers … is that there are a lot of young people, very young people, which is interesting because it absolutely was not the case before,” he said of the event. But how can they turn a passion for watches into a career? Kelloseppäkoulu, the Finnish School of Watchmaking in Espoo, Finland, has been training students to break into the industry since 1944. One of the most renowned watchmaking schools, it prides itself on producing “the steadiest hands in the world,” said principal Hanna Harilainen. The school has experienced so much demand that it is offering an English-language course for the first time in its 80-year history. Prospective students have registered interest from Canada, the US, the UK, Turkey, South Korea and Iran, among others, Harilainen said. Harilainen credits some of this demand to a growing interest in “micro-brands” founded by independent watchmakers. “Young people … want to create something of their own,” she told CNN over the phone. “Something durable, not to be used and tossed away.” They also bring fresh ways of engaging with the craft, Harilainen added. One of Kelloseppäkoulu’s recent graduates, for instance, co-founded a popular independent watch brand and regularly livestreams watchmaking sessions on Twitch. “My feeling is that new generations are looking for something that makes sense for them,” said Aurélie Streit, vice president of the Fondation Haute Horlogerie (FHH), a Swiss non-profit that works on preserving and disseminating watchmaking knowledge. The hands-on nature of the job also appeals: “You can see the pieces, it’s easy to understand what you are doing, and the impact of (it),” she said, adding that FHH often hears from prospective young watchmakers who don’t want to spend all day at a screen. Streit is cautiously optimistic — not only for the prospects of young watchmakers but for other professions vital to the craft, like polishing and micro-mechanics. Her organization plans to showcase these jobs as part of an interactive exhibition in Geneva this June that will give attendees an opportunity to try out different tasks. Who wants to be a watchmaker? When Bernhard Lederer decided to become a watchmaker in the 1970s, no one could understand why he wanted to do it. The “quartz crisis,” brought on by the popularity of battery-powered watches, was severely impacting the Swiss economy and it felt hard to see mechanical watches ever making a comeback. “I have been treated a little bit like an extra-terrestrial — like a non-conventional person,” said Lederer of his choice to train as a watchmaker, which he calls “the most beautiful profession I can imagine.” But as the years went by, Lederer appeared to be vindicated. His watches, which can take anywhere between a few months and years to make, now retail for upwards of $150,000. He credits the pandemic for helping revive interest in independent watchmakers, as collectors had time to learn more about the industry and to shop for pieces “personalized according to (their) taste,” rather than choosing “industrial luxury” from well-known brands, he told CNN over the phone. Among the young talents following in Lederer’s footsteps are Johannes Kallinich and Thibault Claeys, who met while working at luxury watchmaker A. Lange & Söhne before founding their watch company, Kallinich Claeys, in 2022. The duo, who are based in Glashütte, a German town renowned for a watchmaking tradition that dates to 1845, saw an opportunity to “breathe new life into traditional watchmaking,” according to their brand’s website. They achieve this by combining classic and modern materials, such as German silver (a copper-nickel-zinc alloy) with stainless steel. Kallinich Claeys’ other innovations include a “world-first” in the craft: placing the power reserve indicator on the side of the case — rather than on the dial, which is typical of most wristwatches — to give the dial a “cleaner look” while allowing the wearer to better see the mechanical movement. Taking a new approach to watchmaking can be a “stressful” process, according to 28-year-old Claeys who makes the parts and handles the finishings, while 32-year-old Kallinich designs and assembles the pieces. “People will only buy it if they find it beautiful,” he told CNN over a video call. The risk appears to be paying off. At this year’s Watches and Wonders, Kallinich said observers remarked on the timepieces’ distinctly “German” design while appreciating the brand’s innovation. But despite the interest, the pair’s supply is limited, for now: The painstakingly detail-oriented work means they only plan to make 10 to 12 watches a year, bolstered by support from two employees and a third due to join later this year. While machines could complete some of their tasks, like finishings, the difference between hand- and machine-chamfering (polishing sharp edges into flat, angled surfaces) is obvious, said Kallinich, emphasizing the importance of retaining a human touch. More than just functional watches, these are “small artworks” with “heart and soul” put into them, said Claeys. “The craftsmanship, the emotions and the love behind the details … is something I believe machines will never do,” added Kallinich. Later in life It’s not just young people embarking upon the profession. Others are coming to it later in life, reviving a dormant passion or escaping desk jobs. Kunz-Fernandez recalled one aspiring watchmaker enrolling on a WOSTEP course after 40 years as a banker. “What is common is the fact that most of them, at a moment in their life, said, ‘What am I doing?’” he said of the programs’ students. Tiina Virtanen, who is due to graduate from the Finnish School of Watchmaking this spring, came to her new profession after 18 years as a civil engineer. Virtanen, 46, said she was “halfway” through her career when she started questioning whether it was what she wanted to do until retirement. “Instead of being in front of a computer all day long, I was longing for something to do with handcrafting,” she wrote in an email to CNN. Upon graduation, she intends to move to Norway to work in a store that repairs and services watches. Her classmate, Jatta Berggren, also came to the school by way of a previous career — as an entrepreneur in the yarn and handicraft industries. “As the work changed over the years, from handmaking to working with computers, I decided to fulfil my dream of studying to be a watchmaker,” Berggren told CNN. “I get the most joy from working with my hands and being able to see the results of my work.” Berggren, 39, sees watchmaking as an industry that “combines the old and the new in a wonderful way,” emphasizing the need for people from different ages and backgrounds to enter the profession so it can continue to develop. As women in a male-dominated industry, Virtanen and Berggren are a minority in their classrooms and the upper echelons of the profession they hope to enter — but this doesn’t appear to daunt them. There are also promising signs of change: The school has experienced growing interest among women, who made up a third of this year’s applicants. Women in higher places Historically, women have long been present in watchmaking (their smaller hands were sometimes seen as beneficial for those working on factory lines or aiding their watchmaker husbands). FHH’s Streit said there has been “gender parity” in the industry since the 1960s, with women constituting 50% of the workforce in watchmaking factories — though they were primarily “operators,” with the position of “watchmaker” largely held by men. Today, women remain underrepresented in the industry, according to young female watchmaker Shona Taine, who is among those bucking the trend. “There are few other young independent women in the business, but not many,” Taine said. Earlier this month, the 27-year-old became the first woman — and youngest person — admitted to the Académie Horlogère des Créateurs Indépendants, a prestigious association of independent watchmakers. An encounter with Prague’s famous astronomical clock during a childhood vacation inspired the French-born, Switzerland-based watchmaker to understand how it functioned. She started training at 15 and set up her own business at 22 upon realizing that no company would give her freedom to develop the “lots of watches in my mind.” “I had all the fire and energy of a very young woman,” she wrote to CNN in an email, explaining her decision to go independent. “I had no idea of the scale of the task,” she added, nor any idea “what it would be like to set up business in a man’s world.” Last year, Taine was a semi-finalist in Louis Vuitton’s Watch Prize for Independent Creatives and she is now working on 12 editions of her first independently made watch. Called Khemea (“alchemy” in Greek), the first model took her three years to develop and retails for 89,000 Swiss francs ($107,000). Her university studies in philosophy and literature are evident in its design: A poem written in the movement’s cogs only aligns a few times a year (when the moon cycle and Gregorian calendar cycle meet) and can only be read if the watch is taken apart. “We’re not reinventing the wheel,” she said of her creation, “but we’re putting it together in a new way.” When Taine compares being a watchmaker now to previous generations, she admits the profession is less about necessity. But, with that, comes artistic freedom. In today’s world, she sees the craft as “an artistic field in its own right,” adding that watches’ social status, as non-essential luxury items, affords makers like her “more freedom, more extravagance, more self-expression.” When asked about being one of the few young women in her profession, Taine said it’s often other people, not her, who bring up gender. “Personally, I think it’s cool,” she said of her place in the industry. Buyers and collectors can, however, be “apprehensive,” she added. “It’s a lot of little remarks that I have to deal with and ignore.” But none of this is a deterrent for Taine, who sees her vocation as a “way of life.” “It takes longer to convince the general public that a woman can be just as talented in precision engineering as a man,” she said. “But the time will come, I’m sure.”

A huge painting by Mark Rothko, thought to be worth tens of millions of dollars, has been removed from display in a Dutch museum after it was damaged by a visiting child. Conservators will now have to repair the artwork, “Grey, Orange on Maroon, No. 8,” after it was “scratched” by a child visiting the Rotterdam gallery where it was on display. The abstract painting from 1960, which measures 7 feet, 6 inches high by 8 feet, 6 inches wide, was a centerpiece of the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen in Rotterdam – though it had been temporarily on display at the Depot Boijmans Van Beuningen as the museum is currently closed for a large-scale renovation. The museum confirmed the incident in a statement emailed to CNN. It said: “The painting Grey, Orange on Maroon, No. 8 by Mark Rothko has sustained superficial damage after a child touched the painting when it was on display. As a result, small scratches are visible in the unvarnished paint layer in the lower part of the painting. “Conservation expertise has been sought in the Netherlands and abroad. We are currently researching the next steps for the treatment of the painting. We expect that the work will be able to be shown again in the future.” The museum declined to say how much the painting is worth nor how much the damage might cost to repair—or who might be expected to foot the bill. In response to a question about the painting’s value on its website, the museum said the piece was bought in the 1970s for an undisclosed amount. It went on to explain: “An appraiser from an international auction house would be involved in a sale of an artist as famous as Rothko. The price is then very dependent on the condition, size, frame, etc.” Latvian-born American artist Rothko, who died in 1970, was best known for his “color field” paintings. His works regularly fetch millions of dollars at auction – in November 2023 “Untitled, 1968” sold for $23.9 million at Sotheby’s in New York. Museums and galleries are usually eager to promote visits from families with young children, in the hope of fostering an early interest in the arts. Many have programs and workshops aimed at young visitors and actively encourage them – but children can, of course, be unpredictable. Maxwell Blowfield, writer and creator of the popular “maxwell museums” newsletter, told CNN: “Every museum and gallery thinks hard about how to balance meaningful physical access to artworks and objects with keeping them safe. I’d say most have the balance right but accidents can still happen. It’s impossible to prevent every potential incident, from visitors of all ages. Thankfully things like this are very rare compared to the millions of visits taking place everyday.”

Though it only had the distinction of being the world’s tallest building for 11 months, the Chrysler Building in midtown Manhattan has remained one of the most recognizable skyscrapers in the world — and a glimmering architectural icon of the Art Deco period, which celebrates its centennial on April 28. The 1920s and 1930s gave rise to buildings such as Chicago’s Tribune Tower and New York’s Waldorf Astoria hotel that mixed materials and colors through the use of steel, glass, terracotta, stone and marble. This new modern style prized vertical designs that drew the eye upwards, decorative glass and metalwork with geometric and floral motifs, high-shine lacquered surfaces, and unique sculptural adornments — overall, a movement toward originality instead of references to the past. “Until the 1920s, American architects tended to design their buildings with one eye looking over their left shoulder of Europe,” said Anthony W. Robins, a founding member and former vice president of The Art Deco Society of New York, in a phone call. Architectural styles in the US often followed revivals popular across the West, he noted, such as the Greek, Romanesque and Italian Renaissance revivals that fell in and out of favor. But Art Deco didn’t have a name for decades; in 1966, during renewed interest in the era, a group of curators named the style after the “Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes,” which took place on April 28, 1925 in Paris and drew some 16 million visitors over seven months, forging a new period of architecture, design and decorative arts that influenced many parts of the world. The 1,046-foot-tall Chrysler Building, completed in May of 1930, was the pinnacle of both the then-unnamed Art Deco period and the skyscraper boom that rapidly transformed New York City’s skyline. It dethroned the Eiffel Tower as the world’s tallest structure, and was only eclipsed by the Empire State Building before such lofty projects came to a halt as the global economy cratered during the Great Depression, Robins noted. “(The Chrysler Building) and the Empire State Building were the culmination of this huge skyscraper race,” he said. “They weren’t the last to open up before the Depression put an end to it, but they were … the two that took the title of the ‘world’s tallest building.’” Higher and higher Designed by the architect William van Alen for the automotive magnate Walter P. Chrysler, who took over the project from the developer and politician William H. Reynolds, the tower features a steel frame and white and gray bricks that ascend skyward with three vertical columns of windows on each side, flanked by horizontal rows that appear like notches at each level. Climaxing with a cascade of curvilinear sunbursts at its peak, it tapers off to a gleaming 185-foot-tall spire — one that had to be secretly assembled and erected from the inside to deliver on its promise to become the world’s new tallest building. During construction, the Chrysler’s superlative was at risk by a structure rising in tandem at 40 Wall Street. Though the New York Times reported in October 1929 that Paul Starrett, the downtown building’s developer, denied competing for “height supremacy,” the building plans had changed to accommodate additional floors. The press played up the rivalry over the course of a year, Robins noted, until Van Alen resolved it by having the spire covertly assembled from five parts on the 65th floor and quickly hoisted up in 90 minutes so that competitors would not know its final height until it was completed. With the Empire State Building on the horizon, as well as plans for other supertalls that were never built — including the Noyes Building, a monumental, four-block wide, 1,600-foot-tall terracotta tower that, in New York’s skyline, would have only fallen short of One World Trade Center today — the Chrysler Building was the symbol of a rapidly changing skyline. “What next February’s skyline will be like it would take a rash guesser to say,” the New York Times journalist H.I. Brock wrote in 1930 of the year ahead. “But it will be different. July’s skyline will be a new skyline, for that matter.” Striking details What makes the Chrysler Building so striking can be attributed, in part, to the experimentation of the Art Deco period, with its variety of textures, colors and materials, including its use of Nirosta steel: a new type of rustproof stainless steel from Germany. “The color in the metal — that extraordinary silvery glow of the Nirosta at the top — it just stands out. You get there when the sun hits it on a good day, and it knocks your socks off,” Robins said. But one landmark piece of legislation also contributed to its visual appeal, Robin said. New York City’s 1916 Zoning Resolution — the first citywide zoning code in the US to be established — included a requirement that large buildings taper off as they rise so as not to block the sun. Van Alen used the Chrysler Building’s five step-like setbacks to vary the design at each level, including ornaments on each ledge. Steel eagle heads and sculptural pineapples can be spotted on different levels, as well as replicas of Chrysler’s 1929 radiator hub caps — a tribute to innovation as well as a direct reference to the building’s original owner. “It’s very common among Art Deco skyscrapers that the ornaments, aside from being ornamental, will… tell us who the building was built for and include the building itself in the ornament somewhere,” Robins said. Those motifs continue inside, where the skyscraper’s dramatic vertical entrances of polished black granite and recessed glass panels lead visitors into the red marble and yellow travertine lobby. On the ceiling, Edward Trumbull’s monumental mural, “Transport and Human Endeavor,” is dedicated to the human ingenuity and technology that created the building, with a depiction of the skyscraper itself included. Shifting attitudes For all its favorable attention today, the Chrysler Building was completed to mixed reviews. Architecture critics considered the last-minute spire to be a stunt, according to the New York Times. In 1931, the acclaimed critic Lewis Mumford wrote: “Heaven help the person who critically looks at this building without the help of distance and heavy mists. The ornamental treatment of the facade is a series of restless mistakes.” The architectural tides also shifted drastically as the International Style architectural movement swiftly rose to prominence in the 1930s, prizing functionality in its blocky concrete forms with no decor — the antithesis of its predecessors. But with Art Deco’s revival in the 1960s — along with its official name — as well as the skyscraper’s designation as a federal and city landmark in 1976 and 1978, respectively, the Chrysler Building’s renown grew with time. That wasn’t the case for its architect, however, as Van Alen’s promising career dwindled, and he became mired in litigation with his client, Chrysler, over payment for the project. (The courts ultimately ruled in Val Alen’s favor and he received his fee.) “The Chrysler is the building in his life, and it was the last major building in his life,” Robins said. Though the building was completed in 1930, it took until 1981 for Van Alen’s full vision to be realized, when lighting technicians illuminated the skyscraper’s crown for the first time according to the architect’s original designs. “There’s no spire that looks anything like that,” Robins said. “You’re flying over Manhattan — that’s the one that just catches your eye.”

Winning the trust of convicted burglar Jerry Christy was the kind of challenge undercover FBI investigator Ronnie Walker had spent years preparing for. A founding member of the bureau’s specialist Art Crime Team, the Oregon-based agent was well-versed in art history — and trained to pose as a would-be buyer, authenticator or dealer of stolen works. Christy, meanwhile, was being covertly investigated in 2007 over the theft of several artworks, including a 17th-century etching by Dutch master Rembrandt van Rijn. “That etching that was my entrée into his ring,” recalled Walker, who recently retired from the FBI after almost 29 years, allowing him to speak more openly about his career exposing fraudsters, forgers and traffickers in elaborate sting operations. “At the time, I was really hyper-focused on learning about fine art prints,” added the former agent, who met Christy through a confidential source in 2007. “And I made him believe I was the kind of person who could sell a Rembrandt.” But things got trickier for Walker, he said, when Christy’s expert accomplice got in touch. “(Christy) took art off walls, but he wouldn’t necessarily know if it was valuable or not. He would figure that out later on,” Walker told CNN over Zoom. “So, starting off that operation, I was the expert — I knew more than him. But, pretty quickly, the tables turned… the stakes got pretty intense once I found myself going head-to-head with an art dealer.” Around 18 months earlier, Walker said, Christy had unexpectedly vanished from the FBI’s radar. It transpired he was serving time, for an unrelated theft, at Washington State Corrections Center, court records show. By happenstance, Christy had shared a cell with Kurt Lidtke, a disgraced art dealer whom the FBI said was imprisoned for selling his clients’ works without paying them proceeds. Using the latter’s knowledge of the Seattle art market — namely the whereabouts of some of its most valuable paintings — the two cellmates began plotting an ambitious crime spree, Walker said. “They were going to hit dozens of collections in the Pacific Northwest to the tune of several hundred million dollars,” he added. Walker, still masquerading as an art dealer, resumed contact with Christy upon his release from prison. Christy soon carried out a successful burglary, while Lidtke was still in prison, according to court documents. And it wasn’t long before his new co-conspirator called Walker to sell him some paintings — and to sound him out, the former investigator said. “Fortunately, (Lidtke) thought I was a dealer who specialized primarily in California Impressionists, and he was a dealer who specialized in the Northwest School (a 20th-century art movement),” said Walker, adding that they later “spent a lot of time talking about our respective areas of expertise.” Walker used his art market knowledge to build rapport with the dealer, he said, and gained the duo’s trust by pretending to sell three of their stolen artworks. He also began gathering information about their next potential victim as the FBI prepared a trap at the target’s home. Even as authorities appeared to be closing in — Christy was confronted by police while surveilling the property from a parked pickup truck, though he was allowed to leave the scene — Walker believes his performance had been so convincing that Lidtke was oblivious to his involvement until the very end, attributing Christy’s brief encounter with police on bad luck. “Kurt (Lidtke) didn’t trust his instincts and blame me,” he recalled. “We’d had a long enough, and a solid enough, relationship up to that point that he didn’t listen to that inner voice saying, ‘Well, if only three people in the world knew (about the planned robbery) it must have been (him)’.” The FBI averted the burglary and later arrested the pair, according to court documents. Walker said that incriminating recordings he collected during the sting operation helped secure convictions for both Lidtke and Christy, on charges of conspiracy and transportation of stolen goods. In 2011, they were sentenced to four and five-and-a quarter years in prison, respectively. ‘It’s easier to lie when you’re telling the truth’ The Art Crime Team, and Walker’s involvement with it, dates to the early years of the Iraq War. As US troops advanced on Baghdad following the 2003 invasion, looters had plundered an estimated 15,000 artifacts from the country’s National Museum in just 36 hours. At the time, Walker, who had been an FBI agent since 1996, expressed willingness to investigate the thefts. Despite studying business administration and accounting at college, he gravitated toward art history courses and was interested in cases involving cultural heritage. “I called (FBI) headquarters and said, ‘Hey, if you send a team to Iraq, put me in coach,” he recalled. Ultimately, the FBI did not send him, or any agents, to Baghdad in 2003. But amid widespread criticism of America’s failure to protect Iraq’s cultural property — and realizing a need for experts to track down the items, or to be deployed overseas in future looting incidents — the bureau established a specialist art team the following year. Thanks to his earlier interest and internal reputation for sophisticated undercover operations, Walker was recruited to the unit. He was one of fewer than 10 founding agents who would be trained in the history, vocabulary and, most importantly, business of art. “Within the first year of being on the team, I started taking more advanced level college courses that helped inform my approach to these operations,” Walker recalled. The team was focused not only on thefts, from homes, galleries or archeological sites, but also forgery and trafficking rings. Given how many stolen artworks end up on the US market, it also investigated art crimes committed overseas. Today, the unit has more than doubled in size and employs experts in fields including archaeology and anthropology, as well as former art market professionals. Since its founding in 2004, the Art Crime Team has recovered more than 20,000 items of cultural property, including thousands of items from the National Museum of Iraq (though the FBI estimates that between 7,000 and 10,000 of those remain unaccounted for). This two-decade haul is valued at over $1 billion, which Walker called “an oversized return on investment” for the FBI. And that figure doesn’t include the potential value of seized fakes that could have generated billions of dollars if successfully sold. One of the former agent’s last cases involved a dealer with “about $2 billion in inventory — that was all fake,” he said. Recent successes speak to the unit’s broad remit. Last year alone, its investigations led to the return of a Revolutionary War-era musket to a Philadelphia museum; the recovery of a pocket watch once owned by Theodore Roosevelt that had been missing since the 1980s; and the repatriation, to Japan, of 22 artifacts looted following the Battle of Okinawa in 1945. One of the team’s most high-profile cases involved a pair of ruby slippers, worn by Judy Garland as Dorothy in “The Wizard of Oz,” that were recovered 13 years after being stolen from a museum in Minnesota. For the latter operation, Walker posed as a Hollywood memorabilia authenticator to help lure in a suspect seeking the $1 million reward for the objects’ return, he said. To prepare, he spent time with experts at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History (which owns another pair of Garland’s set-worn ruby slippers), to study exactly how they would examine the objects. But while there are undercover agents who can be “anything, at any time, in any place,” Walker said, he is not of that mold, despite sometimes running up to five covert operations at a time. For him, it’s all about a level of preparation — sometimes over-preparation — akin to method acting. “It was understanding what that role should look like, and doing my best to understand that persona,” he said. “But at the end of the day, when you’re in role, the best thing to do is just be yourself. It’s easier to lie when you’re telling the truth.” In other words: The more he knew, the more convincing he could be. “I had a lot of cases that involved Warhol, whether thefts or fakes,” Walker offered as an example. “Studying Warhol, and getting a deeper knowledge of his materials, his processes and his compositions helped me in a lot of the undercover operations.” Walker’s performances also relied on “verbal or visual” cues typical of the professionals he was impersonating. He would sometimes dress the part, too, by wearing the expensive clothes of a high-end dealer or dressing down as the kind of uber-wealthy collector who “has so much money he doesn’t need to care about appearances,” the former agent said. He would wear a pair of lucky Bob Ross socks, too. It was, after all, dangerous work. “There were a few moments where I thought to myself, ‘Oh, this is how it ends,’” he recounted in a subsequent email exchange with CNN, adding: “Every single undercover meeting has the potential to escalate, even when dealing with individuals that don’t have a history of violence. In fact, I think those individuals that have no prior convictions can be more dangerous. They tend to have the most to lose.” Heists, tip-offs and master forgers Cases come to the Art Crime Team in various ways. Local police may alert the FBI to thefts if the stolen goods cross (or are thought to have crossed) state lines. The bureau also invites the public to provide anonymous tip-offs via its National Stolen Art File, a database containing thousands of missing paintings, sculptures and artifacts with cultural value, from candelabras to ceramics. Usually, however, missing art only comes to the authorities’ attention when it enters, or re-enters, the market. “Stealing the artwork is usually the easy part,” Walker said. “It’s selling the artwork that’s the hard part (because) there aren’t too many people in the world — and certainly no reputable art dealers — who want to buy stolen art. Often, the thieves haven’t really thought through how they’re going to sell the artworks.” The FBI’s running list of “top 10 art crimes” features various high-profile items that would now be near-impossible to move on the open market. There’s the $3 million Stradivarius violin stolen from a New York City apartment in 1995, and the Pierre-Auguste Renoir painting taken in an armed robbery from a Houston home in 2011. Then there is, in Walker’s view, the holy grail of art crime: The 13 works, including paintings by Rembrandt, Édouard Manet and Edgar Degas, snatched from Boston’s Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in a notorious 1990 heist. “If you said you had a lead on them tomorrow, in any part of the world, the team would throw every resource they could at (it),” he said of the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum artworks. You might also, he added, end up $10 million richer thanks to the reward offered up by the museum’s board. Art criminals’ motivations are almost always financial, Walker said. Their downfall often shares a common theme, too, whether it’s trusting an undercover agent or seeking big-money rewards for stolen goods: greed. And while the former agent didn’t see a significant increase in art-related crimes over his two decades investigating them (if there appear to be more media reports, it’s because “we just got better at doing our job”), he believes perpetrators’ scope and abilities grew in that time. “Twenty years ago, largely, fraud was more of the household names and the dead guys. It was the Rothkos or the Picassos. But now it’s living contemporary artists that are being faked in their lifetime,” he said, adding that technology now allows forgers to operate without conventional artistic skills. “There are printing technologies that can mimic brushstrokes. So, with a small investment and a really good high-resolution camera, you can create fakes today that rival the quality of a (master forger).” The threat posed to living artists is now Walker’s main preoccupation. After retiring from the FBI in December, he founded the Art Legacy Institute (ALI), a non-profit helping artists protect their work and livelihoods from fraud. Having spent a career solving crimes, he now hopes to prevent them from happening in the first place. Forgeries come in two guises: either a known work is replicated, or a new composition is created in the artist’s style and positioned as a previously undocumented work. According to Walker, the solution — to the latter, at least — is surprisingly simple: cataloging. ALI is creating a detailed digital archive, stored on its server, that he hopes would become the definitive record of an artist’s output. “Documenting what you create, as an artist, is the most important thing you can do… There’s been no shortage of artists who grind away for (decades) to finally get recognized for their contribution, for demand to increase, and then all of a sudden, the fraudsters come out,” he said. “They start attacking the style the artists were doing 20 or 30 years earlier that is not well documented — and it’s those gaps (in provenance) that allow the fraudsters to thrive.” As for identifying like-for-like replicas? That’s where technology now comes in. Last month, Walker’s organization announced a partnership with optical AI firm Alitheon that can create a unique “digital fingerprint” for any artwork — thousands of data points recording miniscule surface details, invisible to even the greatest forger’s eye. “It is simple to use and scalable, and it just works,” Walker said, joking: “Even an old, retired FBI agent can use this tech.”

A lettercard penned by one of the Titanic’s most well-known survivors from onboard the ship, days before it sank, has sold for £300,000 ($399,000) at auction. In the note, written to the seller’s great-uncle on April 10, 1912, first-class passenger Archibald Gracie wrote of the ill-fated steamship: “It is a fine ship but I shall await my journeys end before I pass judgment on her.” The letter was sold to a private collector from the United States on Saturday, according to auction house Henry Aldridge & Son in Wiltshire, England. The hammer price far exceeded the initial estimate price of £60,000. The letter is believed to be the sole example in existence from Gracie from onboard the Titanic, which sank off Newfoundland after hitting an iceberg, killing about 1,500 people on its maiden voyage. Auctioneer Andrew Aldridge described it as an “exceptional museum grade piece.” Gracie, who jumped from the ship and managed to scramble onto an overturned collapsible boat, was rescued by other passengers onboard a lifeboat and was taken to the R.M.S. Carpathia. He went on to write “The Truth about the Titanic,” an account of his experiences, when he returned to New York City. Gracie boarded the Titanic in Southampton on April 10, 1912, and was assigned first-class cabin C51. His book is seen as one of the most detailed accounts of the events of the night the ship sank, Aldridge said. Gracie did not fully recover from the hypothermia he suffered, and died of complications from diabetes in late 1912. The letter was postmarked Queenstown, Ireland, one of two stops the Titanic made before sinking.

People across Asia flocked to shopping malls and online stores Friday as they scrambled to get their hands on the latest edition of Labubu, a collectible toy that has sparked buying frenzies the world over. Inspired by Nordic folklore, the toothy, fluffy figurines — which typically come in palm-sized “blind boxes” — drew crowds in cities from Bangkok, to Kuala Lumpur as the new collection went on sale. They were also made available online, where they quickly sold out. The brainchild of Hong Kong-born, Netherlands-raised illustrator Kasing Lung, Labubu and fellow creatures from his “The Monsters” series have amassed a loyal following since their founding in 2015. But Labubu’s popularity has spiked over the past year, thanks to celebrity endorsements. Lisa, from K-pop mega group Blackpink, has frequently professed her love of the creature on social media. “Labubu is my baby,” she said in a recent Teen Vogue video. Titled “Big Into Energy,” the latest drop features six vinyl plush pendants (and one “secret” figurine) representing “emotions” like love, hope and happiness — each made in new colorways. The new Labubus cost between $13 and $16 each in various Asian countries. Shortly after their release on Friday, some pendants were being resold for up to $90 on US online resell platform StockX. At the CentralWorld shopping mall in Bangkok, dozens of fans lined up before its branch of Pop Mart — Labubu’s licensed distributor — had even opened, despite having pre-registered time slots. University student Kamolwan Pohfah, 21, said she left home early to reach the store because she couldn’t wait to get her hands on the newest collection. “I have been following Labubu for almost two years now,” she told CNN. “It was kind of ugly at first sight. But I kept seeing it on social media. And my friends are crazy about it, so I follow them,” she said. Tourist Emily Jong, 27, who was also in line and visiting from Australia, said she tried her luck at the mall hours before she was due to fly home, but left empty-handed. “We tried to line up but we didn’t know we have to register,” she said. Hathairus Mekborisut, 53, bought a box set of six pendants. She decided to keep one, named “luck,” for herself and to resell the rest. She’s been “longing” for a purple one, she said. Another reseller who goes by her nickname Mai, and wanted to remain anonymous, led a small group to buy up as many as possible. She said she could make double the retail price by reselling them to customers in other countries. Despite recently shooting to global fame, Labubu (who is a girl) has been a decade in the making. She first appeared as a side character, often hiding in the background, in a fairy world created by Lung in his three-part picture book series, “The Monsters,” according to Pop Mart, the Chinese toy company licensed to sell Labubu merchandise. Boasting rabbit-like ears, big round eyes and a mischievous grin, Labubu is “kind-hearted and always wants to help, but often accidentally achieves the opposite,” the company said on its website. Lung, 52, previously told Hong Kong local newspaper Ming Pao that the character was inspired by his childhood, which was filled with Nordic folk tales of elves, trolls and fairies. After moving to the Netherlands as a child, he picked up Dutch through simple picture books. Fans often accessorize their outfits by clipping Labubu plushies onto their clothes or bags (they were even spotted at Paris Fashion Week last month). The figurines are also taken to fan-led meet-ups or posted on online marketplaces, where they are traded and resold. Pop Mart, a Chinese toymaker that has made its mark in a collectibles market traditionally dominated by Japan, has found success in selling Labubus in a blind-box format — which makes contents a mystery until opened, adding to their appeal. “The Monsters” series is its best-selling franchise, and last year generated 3 billion yuan ($410 million) in sales. Videos of young fans anxiously unboxing the figurines, and erupting into joy — or sometimes disappointment — have flooded social media platforms like TikTok. And celebrities like Rihanna and Blackpink’s Rosé have only added to the hype. On Wednesday, Blackpink’s Lisa showed off her new pink and yellow tie-dye furry Labubu, from the latest release, in an Instagram story. She revealed herself as a fan about a year ago, when a photo of the star hugging a large Labubu in a camping costume went viral. Her endorsement is widely credited with fueling the toy’s popularity, particularly in Southeast Asia, which is Pop Mart’s largest — and fastest growing — overseas market. Last year, the Chinese toymaker’s annual revenues in the region grew by 619% to over 2.4 billion yuan ($309 million). A fan base is also growing in the US, though American buyers will have to pay more for their purchases amid a trade war between China and the US, which has hit most Chinese imports with a 145% tariff. (China retaliated with a 125% tariff.) A blind box from the latest series, which also went on sale in the US on Friday, is priced at $27.99, up from $21.99 for the previous series. Among the new Labubus being released is a rare one labeled “Secret,” which buyers have just a 1-in-72- chance of unboxing. “It’s quite fun. If you do get the secret ones, you do get the dopamine,” said 27-year-old collector Lawrence Yu, who lives in Melbourne, Australia and has so far spent $1,200 Australian dollars ($763) on over two dozen Labubus, ranging from ones found in “blind boxes” to plush toys. He recalled arriving ahead of a drop at a local mall, where a new Pop Mart store had opened last October, at 2:30 a.m, before spending 10 hours in line. “I hope it comes to Melbourne soon,” he said in a video call, referring to the new series, which will not be released in physical stores in Australia until the end of this month.

Construction of the world’s tallest unoccupied skyscraper may resume as early as next week, almost 10 years after work ground to a halt, according to Chinese state media. The 597-meter-tall (1,959-foot) Goldin Finance 117, which topped out in the northern Chinese port city of Tianjin but has stood unfinished since 2015 amid major financial difficulties, is now expected to complete in 2027. At 117 stories high, the tower was set to be China’s tallest skyscraper when it broke ground in 2008. The soaring structure was built using “mega columns” to protect against strong winds and earthquakes, while its “walking stick” design was topped by a diamond-shaped atrium containing a swimming pool and observation deck. It was set to contain offices and a five-star hotel on the upper floors, according to architects P&T Group. But the project came to a standstill following the 2015 Chinese stock market crash that plunged the future of Hong Kong-based Goldin Properties Holdings into doubt. The real estate developer, whose founder Pan Sutong was once among Hong Kong’s richest businessmen, has since gone into liquidation. A new construction permit — which reportedly lists a contract value of almost 569 million yuan ($78 million) — suggests the defunct developer’s title may have been dropped from the building’s name, according to state media. It is unclear whether plans for the “supertall” skyscraper’s use remain unchanged. Neither P&T Group nor BGI Engineering Consultants, the state-owned company named on the permit, responded to CNN’s requests for comment. Over the last decade, the abandoned skyscrapers littering China’s skylines have become emblematic of the country’s real estate woes. In 2020, its housing ministry and National Development and Reform Commission issued guidelines banning new towers over 500 meters (1,640 feet) in height — a move seemingly aimed, in part, at reining in the speculative financing often underpinning skyscraper projects. On Monday, China’s Greenland Group announced that work is also resuming on the previously stalled Chengdu Greenland Tower in the southwestern city of Chengdu, local state-owned media reported. Construction of the 468-meter-tall (1,535-foot) skyscraper has been on hold since 2023, after the state-owned developer encountered financial difficulties, according to Reuters. The fact that two high-profile projects are resuming at the same time is unlikely to be a coincidence, said Qiao Shitong, a law professor at Duke University School of Law and the author of two books on Chinese real estate. “The national government has made it clear it wants to stabilize the real estate market,” said Qiao over a video call, adding that it has been encouraging local governments to help “revive” the struggling sector. “It is signaling to the market — (it’s) not only about the skyscrapers themselves.” Although the Tianjin tower’s new financing is yet to be disclosed, Qiao believes the state has offered investment and debt restructuring to help kickstart the project. “(Supertall skyscrapers) are not necessarily the most efficient projects and they are not necessarily making profits, but they are indicators,” he said. “By having this project revived and completed, the government at least hopes it can increase people’s confidence.” For local officials, completing abandoned skyscrapers is also about “the image of the city,” said Fei Chen, a reader in architecture and urban design at the UK’s University of Liverpool. “They don’t want a project to be unfinished and to stay like that, which is an eyesore for everyone.” Chen stressed, however, that the resumption of projects in Tianjin and Chengdu is unlikely to herald a return to the “vanity projects” of recent years. “The government is conscious that although these (skyscraper) projects have some positive effects on the area, they require too much investment and are not financially or environmentally sustainable… I think the general urban development trend is not changed by the fact that some projects are being resumed. I think it’s more about local government efforts to make their city better.” Despite economic concerns and tightening regulations, China continues to dominate global skyscraper construction. Of the 133 skyscrapers measuring 200 meters or above completed around the world last year, 91 were in China, according to data from the Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat. Chen said that skyscrapers, although expensive to build, are often used by developers as “magnets” for investment in the surrounding area. Goldin Finance 117, for instance, was part of a wider development containing villas, commercial buildings and offices, as well as a convention center, entertainment center and polo club. The fate of these projects is not explicitly outlined in the new construction permit, though it reportedly describes the development of several “commercial corridors.” But with sluggish property sales and struggling office occupancy rates across China, the project’s economic viability remains in question, said Qiao. “It’s a huge investment,” he added “And I seriously don’t know who is going to buy or rent this commercial space.” During the decade-long hiatus, Tianjin welcomed another supertall skyscraper — the Tianjin CTF Finance Centre, which at 530 meters (1,739 feet) is currently the world’s eighth tallest completed building. Goldin Finance 117 has meanwhile been surpassed in height by both the twisting Shanghai Tower and the Ping An Finance Centre in Shenzhen, meaning it would now only become the country’s third tallest (and the world’s sixth tallest) skyscraper upon completion. It will fall to eighth globally if Saudi Arabia’s kilometer-high Jeddah Tower — on which construction also recently resumed, following a years-long hiatus — and Dubai’s Burj Azizi are both completed later this decade.

With her wavy red hair scrunched up high in a ponytail, Chloe Humphries applies collagen patches by the Korean beauty brand Abib under her eyes before grooming her brows with an Anastasia Beverly Hills serum and layering her face with a multitude of skincare products: a peptide-infused essence by Sunday Riley, a vitamin C-infused sunscreen from Garnier and lip balm by Sol de Janeiro. It’s a process shared with her 634,000 followers on Instagram. “I’m going to be doing more runs than ever, so I need to make sure I’m taking care of my skin,” Humphries wrote in the video’s accompanying caption, adding that she will be running the London Marathon on April 27. “I’ve decided to treat each pre-run skincare routine like a warm-up and try to make sure I’m doing it every time,” she said. For Humphries, who has been running since 2020 and is based in the UK’s West Midlands, an effective beauty regime is increasingly as important as training ahead of a race. “When I do my makeup, it’s part of the ritual of getting ready, and having that time to myself (helps me to) decompress and distract from what’s coming up,” she told CNN in a phone call, recounting the pep talk she gives herself: “Get in the zone. You’ve got 30 kilometers (18.6 miles) or more to do. You’re going to be OK. Your makeup feels nice, and you’ll be running good when you’re out there.” ‘Looking my best’ Humphries is not alone in turning to grooming and beauty routines before a race to feel confident and prepared. London-based healthcare worker Intisar Abdul-Kader took up running in 2014 and has since participated in marathons globally (she completed the Tokyo Marathon in March and is now training for a half marathon in Amsterdam in May). Abdul-Kader emphasized the importance of skincare and makeup that ideally “will stay on for four hours.” (Her current go-to brands are Merit and Glossier.) “It’s about taking pride in showing up to a race that I’ve prepared for months,” Abdul-Kader told CNN by phone. “I’m not going to show up not looking my best. Feeling good, looking good — that’s outside as well as inside.” Charlotte Purdue, another UK-based runner, shared a similar sentiment: “It’s like going to work,” she said over a phone call. “You wouldn’t go to work without looking kind-of presentable. So, when you’re on the world stage — if you’re running a major marathon, you could be on TV — you just want to look good.” For some runners, beauty can extend beyond simple skincare to more elaborate treatments including tanning, manicures and intricate hairstyling. Sprinter Sha’Carri Richardson is known as not only one of history’s fastest women, but also for the ornately designed nails that has become a core part of her personal style. As she dashed across the track in the women’s 100-meter race at the 2024 Paris Olympics, her long custom acrylics — shipped to her from Brooklyn-based manicurist Angie Aguirre — were visible to all. Elite marathoner Anya Culling’s beauty regime takes place both before and after a run. The latter, which includes “an all-body moisturizer that feels like a massage, or a good hair mask, after my hair has been matted from a track session in the rain,” is vital because “it feels like self-care, which is important after I have pushed my body so hard,” she wrote to CNN over email. Investing in beauty prep — such as fake tan, eyebrow dying and gel manicures — ahead of time means that “I don’t have to do it every morning and can get straight up and train,” Culling explained. Among her favored products are the Bondi Sands one-hour express self-tanning foam, Eylure’s permanent eyebrow tint and BIAB nails. “I wouldn’t normally wear makeup for training, but for a race, the E.l.f. power grip primer and setting spray means my makeup doesn’t budge, and then a quick lick of Benefit’s BadGal Bang! mascara makes me feel exactly like the name suggests,” she added. Challenging misconceptions The growing significance of beauty in sports marks a shift in athletes’ attitudes. Historically, athletes, particularly female ones, have focused primarily on their performance, with anything else viewed as a distraction, said Andrea Geurin, a professor of sports business at New York University’s Preston Robert Tisch Institute for Global Sport. This is, she explained, partly due to a largely male-dominated sports culture, where athletics is characterized by stereotypically masculine qualities, such as strength or competitiveness, resulting in female participation in sports being less appreciated. “Men’s sports have overshadowed women’s sports for so long that women athletes felt like they couldn’t focus on beauty, or on aspects of their femininity, while also being seen as a serious sportsperson,” she said on a call. American track and field athlete Florence Griffith Joyner (known as Flo Jo) captured the public’s attention in the 1980s, not only for her running prowess while setting 100-meter and 200-meter world records at the 1988 Seoul Olympics, but also for her beauty regime, which included nails around four to six inches long, in bright colors or animal prints. Her fingernails were viewed as “both a source of intrigue and revulsion,” wrote Lynchburg College sport management professor Lindsay Pieper in a 2015 essay. “Because she preferred long, colorful nails, the runner was depicted as abnormal, deviant, and different.” Joyner’s femininity — or perceived lack thereof — was often the source of controversy: Because of her deep voice and muscled physique, her career was mired by unproven allegations of performance-enhancing drug use. (She consistently passed drug tests during the 1988 games, including 11 tests that year, and an autopsy carried out after her death in 1998 found no conclusive proof of drug use.) Grappling with body image and stereotypes has long been a point of contention for Culling. “There was always this unspoken idea that if you were a girl who played sports, you either had to sacrifice your femininity or constantly prove that you could still be ‘girly’ enough off the field,” she said. “I remember feeling like I had to make an effort to dress a certain way or wear makeup just to remind people that I was still girly — even though I was just as passionate and competitive as any male counterpart.” “As a young girl, this sent the message that strength and femininity can’t co-exist, which isn’t true at all,” Culling added. That sentiment, however, appears to be changing as Culling and a new generation of athletes become more comfortable with expressing their authentic selves. “Now, I embrace the fact that I can be competitive and athletic,” she said, adding that “I love the antithesis of being a girly girl who is also running faster than most guys out there.” “For so many years, it seemed like women weren’t allowed to fully express themselves. Now, we’re seeing this old notion turned on its head (as female athletes) take control and ownership of their image, and it’s actually empowering for them to talk about these other aspects of who they are beyond sports,” observed Geurin. “There’s no longer this contradiction; you can be strong and fast and also feminine.” ‘The marathon is a catwalk’ Female participation in running competitions is growing: At the 2024 New York City Marathon, which is regarded as the largest in the world, 24,731 women completed the race — marking the highest number of female participants in its history. Women athletes are also increasingly visible thanks to the amplification of social media platforms, where people share their training journeys and race experiences. On TikTok, there has been a recent flood of videos with tags such as “how to look pretty while running” and “makeup for marathon.” For some amateur runners, the sport offers the potential for romance — leading some observers to dub run clubs as “the new dating apps” — which may explain a heightened interest in maintaining one’s appearance and looking good. “I know girls in my run club that have got run club crushes,” laughed Humphries. “Park runs and races are a really good way for people to meet. I think that for a long time, run clubs felt like something for the older generation, but with social media, younger people are (getting more involved).” Humphries added that the sport has helped her form new friendships: “I have a friend group from my run club. We see each other outside of runs, and when we do go for runs, we message each other beforehand saying, ‘What are you going to wear? Will you have matching socks on today?’ I love that it’s become a way to meet people.” Rising interest in running has also proven attractive for brands. Last summer, beauty label Charlotte Tilbury partnered with Purdue, who counts over 51,500 followers on Instagram and 32,000 on TikTok, on video content showing off the products the runner uses in her routine. “They sent me loads of stuff, and I also got to go to their Covent Garden store (in London) and get a full glam look.” Purdue said. In 2024, Maybelline New York became the first-ever cosmetics sponsor of the New York City Marathon. Ahead of the upcoming London Marathon, companies including the self-tanning label Three Warriors and facial brand FaceGym have partnered with athletes and influencers, offering treatments that promote their products and services. “I think back to the London Marathon in the ‘80s and ‘90s, where people would run in their slops or casual clothes,” James Harknett, global creative artist at Three Warriors, told CNN over a call. “Now, the marathon is like a catwalk, where people are (considered about) what they’re choosing to wear and the skin they’re showing off.” Asked why he is now collaborating with runners, Harknett said he hoped to grow brand awareness and to “educate people and make them feel good in their skin.” A former avid runner herself, FaceGym founder Inge Theron started offering facial massages, as part of a quick break, to runners taking part in the Los Angeles Marathon about seven years ago. “The marathon (route goes) directly past Sunset Boulevard, where our shop is, and I saw a lot of people running and grinding (their teeth) from the stress,” she recalled. “It creates tension within their jaw.” Theron continued: “I’m seeing a lot more people get out and participate in (runs) — what’s changed is that instead of going on their own, people are coming together.” But whether people engage in athletics professionally or as a hobby, protective measures need to be taken, she warned. “It’s not just micro injuries that can be caused from the repeat repetition on the ground, but there’s also the sun and other things that can impact your skin and body,” she said.

Set in a sleek, lacquered rectangular casing and adorned with 20 baguette-cut yellow beryls — set in gold, to match the opulent golden chain from which it dangles — Chanel’s latest launch looks like a lipstick at first sight. But there’s more to it. With a click, the lipstick case opens to reveal a watch dial at its center. Named “Kiss Me,” the timepiece is part of the French luxury house’s capsule collection, which was unveiled at the Watches and Wonders trade fair in Geneva in April. Fusing beauty and horology, the collection also includes “Protect Me,” an amulet-like pendant that reimagines the evil eye as founder Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel’s own kohl-lined gaze, and “Give Me Luck,” a talismanic necklace featuring rubellite cabochons and five pink tourmalines arranged in a Byzantine motif that Chanel herself loved. Twist either pendant and, again, a hidden watch is revealed. Creating timepieces that bear little resemblance to ordinary wristwatches (which traditionally feature a dial plate and hands, and attached by a strap, designed to be worn around the wrist) may seem like an unexpected move for Chanel, known for its classic styles. But it’s part of a broader growing trend that has also extended to the red carpet: See the custom Lorraine Schwartz watch choker that Taylor Swift wore around her neck to the Grammy Awards last year. “It’s a new way to wear time — one that celebrates uniqueness and individuality,” said Manon Hagie, sales director of watches at Sotheby’s, on a phone call with CNN. ‘It’s not immediately clear it’s a watch’ Timepieces in unlikely shapes and sizes featured across the Watches and Wonders fair, which concluded on Monday. Van Cleef & Arpels unveiled a new diamond-studded edition of the Cadenas — a bold, padlock-inspired design with a shackle-like clasp that looks more like a bracelet than a watch — marking the 90th anniversary of one of its most beloved styles. “When you look at it, it’s not immediately clear it’s a watch — and that’s what makes it modern and intriguing,” said Rainer Bernard, head of research and development at Van Cleef & Arpels, attributing the design’s enduring appeal to its dual identity as both a jewel and timepiece Similarly, the diamond-studded open cuff featuring Cartier’s iconic panther — caught mid-leap, paw outstretched, prowling over its prey — may initially look like a daring adornment. Upon closer inspection, however, the feline sits opposite a discreet watch dial that is only revealed when the piece is tilted by the wearer. These newly introduced Panthère jewelry watches — which also include a pared-down version in gold — play on the silhouette of last year’s Réflection de Cartier. (That model featured a mirrored finish in place of the panther, allowing the time to be read through its reflection, as the name subtly suggests.) Cartier’s appetite for no-watch watches also extends to the men’s department with its revival of the Tank à Guichets. Deceptively minimalist, the new model features neither a dial nor hands — just two tiny apertures, or “guichets” (French for ticket windows), showing the hour and minutes as digits at the top and bottom, respectively. First introduced in 1928 as a reinterpretation of the classic Tank, the limited-edition style returns in 2025 in yellow gold, rose gold and platinum. Unusual-looking timepieces also took center stage at a special Sotheby’s sale in April. Titled Area 51 — a playful nod to the US military site in the Nevada desert, long associated with UFOs and conspiracy theories about alien technology — the auction spotlighted 51 timepieces with uncommon case shapes or made with materials rarely used in watchmaking. Ranging from vintage Patek Philippe models to futuristic creations by independent brands like Urwerk, the lots fetched a combined $1.6 million. For Sotheby’s Hagie, the result reflects “how the watch audience is evolving, with more women and Gen Z collectors entering the space.” Pendant and brooch watches Customers looking for less risqué styles may be drawn to pendant watches. All the rage during the Roaring Twenties, when they swung from the lithe frames of bob-haired flapper girls in fringed dresses and lowered waistlines, the style is enjoying a revival amid newfound interest in unusual watch forms, Hagie observed. She linked the trend to nostalgia, but also watchmakers’ growing focus on female clients and their heterogeneous tastes. Indeed, in recent years, Jaeger-LeCoultre and even the sportier Richard Mille have introduced watches designed to swing from one’s neck. Meanwhile, Chanel’s playful new take on its signature octagonal-dial Première watch features an extra-long gold and leather chain designed to wrap not only around the wrist but also the neck. At Piaget — where pendant watches have long been part of the brand’s repertoire — they’re back in the spotlight: This year, the Swiss watchmaker unveiled a model featuring a rope-like gold chain and ruby-root beads, with a ruby-root dial framed by a festoon of spinels and yellow sapphires arranged as a fan. A more pared-down version highlights a trapeze-shaped dial, the core design element of the newly launched Sixtie collection. At Watches and Wonders, they were intentionally displayed next to “patrimony” timepieces from Piaget’s archive that are not for sale, explained Stéphanie Sivrière, the brand’s jewelry and watch artistic director. “We create a fluid narrative where past and present collide — until you forget which is which,” she said, adding that, as of late, pendant watches have “been so successful we can barely keep up with demand.” At more accessible price points, Van Cleef & Arpels has reimagined its signature Alhambra, Perlée and Ludo designs as pendant watches featuring juicy colored gems like turquoise, lapis lazuli and carnelian. Meanwhile, Dior’s jewelry division has introduced pendant versions of its Gem Dior watch — one with jazzy malachite, the other with delicate aragonite — dangling from a thread-thin link-bar chain. “I love the idea of jewelry that tells time,” Victoire de Castellane, Dior Joaillerie’s creative director, wrote to CNN over email. “And I find wearing a watch as a pendant amusing.” A lighthearted approach was also taken by Philippe Delhotal, creative director of Hermès Horloger, who turned the house’s iconic anchor chain motif into a brooch watch, rimmed with diamonds and adorned with a pink tourmaline, as part of the Maillon Libre collection unveiled at the fair. “Historically, watches have also been carried in pockets, worn on ties or styled as brooches. So rather than designing a brooch to hold a watch, we first created the watch itself — then the idea of the brooch came naturally,” Delhotal explained. “It’s a nomadic piece that can be shared or styled differently — pinned as a brooch or worn as a pendant on a sautoir. In doing so, it offers the wearer a spectrum of possibilities.”

Antoni Gaudí, the celebrated Catalan long nicknamed “God’s architect” for designing Barcelona’s Sagrada Família, has been put on the path to sainthood by the Vatican. In a statement released on Monday, the Vatican said Pope Francis recognized Gaudí’s “heroic virtues,” which is a step on the path to sainthood. Becoming a saint is a complex process that can take hundreds of years, however, since a candidate normally needs two miracles to be attributed to their intercession. Finding those miracles will be the next step if Gaudí is to beatified and then canonized. Commissions of doctors and theologians then examine the miracles before the pope makes the ultimate decision to canonize someone. Gaudí is a rare case. Few artists become saints and no architect, in the modern understanding of the profession, has ever been canonized. Gaudí’s legacy is intrinsically linked with Catholicism as he dedicated much of his career to the Sagrada Família – a church of such awesome splendor that it remains unfinished more than 140 years after construction began. He envisioned the church to be “a Bible in stone” and designed a monumental structure with 18 huge, spindle-shaped towers, each symbolizing a different biblical figure – the 12 apostles, the four evangelists, the Virgin Mary and Jesus. When it is finally completed in 2026, the tower of Jesus Christ will stand at 172.5 meters (566 feet) tall and will be finished with a 17-meter-tall (56-foot) four-armed cross, making it the world’s tallest church. Inside, the nave is bathed in multicolored light that streams in from every direction through ornately decorated stained-glass windows. Gaudí never saw the church anywhere near completion. He died in 1926, when only an estimated 10%-15% of the project had been built, including one transept, a crypt and some of the apse wall. Although Gaudí dedicated the remaining few years of his life and career exclusively to the Sagrada Família, other buildings bearing his distinctive style are dotted all over Barcelona, lending the city much of its character. For decades, there has been a movement calling for Gaudí’s beatification, known as the Association for the Beatification of Antoni Gaudí. The Archbishop of Barcelona took up that cause in 2023 and submitted the positio, or key argument, for Gaudí’s beatification to the Vatican.