“In Switzerland, Artistic Artisanship Includes Unimagined Crafts”

Up until the end, Sébastien Ladermann remained dedicated to showcasing the rare and hidden skills of Swiss artisans. It took him ten years and hundreds of encounters to complete this project, shining a spotlight on talents that often go unnoticed. His research introduced him to an ocularist, a thatcher, a lampshade maker, a dry-stone wall builder, a vine nursery grower, and an alphorn maker, among many others—trades far removed from Switzerland's more commonly known professions. These crafts, which receive minimal support in Switzerland, are in many cases at risk of disappearing.

As the founder of Alpaga Editions, a journalist, and the driving force behind the Arthena Association, Ladermann authored the trilogy "Artisans et Métiers d’Art" (released in late November by Alpaga Editions), which seeks to place these crafts at the heart of Swiss cultural heritage. The three volumes cover three regions of Switzerland: Valais, Vaud, and Geneva. He shared his fascinating and lengthy journey with Luxury Tribune.

This investigation took you ten years. Why undertake such a project?

Everything related to working with materials has always fascinated me, particularly artistic craftsmanship. Over the course of my career, especially in watchmaking, and later after founding my audiovisual and communications company, I delved into this area. About ten years ago, I noticed through my press collaborations that coverage of this domain often originated from subsidiaries of major luxury groups, especially in France, which are very aware of the importance of supporting artistic crafts and the "Made in France" label. In Switzerland, however, with the exception of watchmaking, these initiatives were almost nonexistent. That inspired me to investigate whether such diversity also existed here. In France and Italy, these trades are well-represented, supported by umbrella organizations and backed by public and private funding.

Are such structures absent in Switzerland, aside from the watchmaking sector?

Yes, there isn’t an umbrella organization as strong as in neighboring countries, nor is there a foundation like France’s Bettencourt-Schueller Foundation, which highlights artisans. On the ground, I realized that meeting one artisan often led to discovering another trade, usually through their own recommendations. Gradually, I noticed that while these sectors were closely connected, they were almost entirely unknown. I became convinced that Switzerland harbored an unexploited richness that deserved to be showcased.

Which artisan did you start with?

I began with Pedrazzini, a boatmaker by Lake Zurich. To me, he represented what I wanted to highlight: the transformation of ten-meter-long planks of wood, still covered in bark, into a globally desired boat after 5,000 hours of work. Each year, this small, unassuming workshop produces just six to eight boats. Everything is done there, except for the motor sourced from the United States.

All of the savoir-faire is there. And I am fairly convinced that no one in the surrounding area suspects what is happening inside this century-old workshop. Pedrazzini boats involve dozens of layers of varnish, each hand-sanded between applications—a true representation of excellence. What intrigues me is the path artisans take to achieve their level of mastery. It can be winding, but it’s always deliberate. These craftsmen never take shortcuts.

Is this ultimate commitment common among all the artisans you met?

Yes, it’s a shared trait. Artisans don’t view time and energy in a rational way. Passion drives them, and they naturally set their own standards of excellence. For instance, the alphorn maker I met, who is over 80 years old, continues to research and develop his instrument. He regularly has it analyzed in sound labs to improve its design. Today, he has so many orders that he can’t fulfill them all, yet stopping progress is unthinkable for him.

Does this rigor and innovation define Swiss artistic craftsmanship?

I believe the essence of artisanship is universal, whether the craftsman is Swiss, Danish, French, or Japanese.

Does Switzerland offer greater financial or temporal security for artisans to practice their craft?

What might differentiate Swiss artisans is the lack of media exposure they receive. As a result, they’re less tempted to work faster or change their methods. Unlike the Meilleurs Ouvriers de France system in France, Swiss artisans don’t have a collective identity. They work independently, knowing they can only rely on themselves.

Did you discover unique talents, like the ocularist-glassblower in Geneva?

Yes, it’s quite unique. This craft originated in Germany and wasn’t historically practiced elsewhere. The Buckel family in Geneva, descendants of German artisans who arrived over a century ago, continues this tradition. They produce ocular prosthetics by hand-blowing glass rods, striving for perfect aesthetic and morphological matches. It’s a complex process. Today, only two artisans in Switzerland possess this skill.

Are these skills at risk in Switzerland?

In general, knowledge survives within workshops thanks to the few collaborators who work there. However, it’s rare for artisans to successfully pass on their expertise. Most of them couldn’t or didn’t know how to pass it on. Since these trades are little known, new vocations don’t emerge, leading to potential extinction.

Could this threaten entire industries?

Yes. Take Éric Germanier, a vine nursery grower in Valais. His profession is the first link in the wine chain, followed by viticulturists, winemakers, and merchants. The wine issue in Valais is two-fold: some niche grape varieties are unique to the region, such as Arvine and Humagne, as well as specific Pinot Noir - of which there are thousands of different types— and have developed a specific typology, as the genetic heritage is unique to each region. If the Valais wine nursery growers were to disappear (today, only two remain, both over 55 years old), it’s simple: winegrowers would have no one to turn to for purchasing new vine stocks (called barbues). This loss of expertise could jeopardize the entire wine industry in Valais. Public authorities are largely unaware of this risk.

How aware are public authorities of these challenges?

Awareness is growing, but resources remain woefully insufficient compared to the work that needs to be done. Government departments often pass the responsibility between economic, cultural, and educational sectors. In the private sector, some foundations support these causes, including in the watchmaking industry.

What is the goal of your association, Arthena?

The Arthena association has existed since 2022. Its purpose is to draw the attention of the general public and individuals seeking career changes to the existence of these types of professions. While we couldn’t provide an exhaustive overview of artisans by canton, the website linked to the books, arthena.ch, allows anyone to freely explore these various artisanal crafts. Members of the association include art historians, lawyers, bankers, and other professionals, with the aim of expanding networks and opportunities to raise awareness about these crafts in Switzerland. They act as intermediaries within important spheres of influence. The ultimate goal is to have one or two key artisans in each canton who can relay information upward, as these structures, once again, do not currently exist.

The creation of these books is therefore accompanied by a real responsibility toward the artisans, involving networking and the development of a structure?

Yes, through the association, we are working to multiply points of contact with the general public and young people to promote awareness regarding Switzerland’s heritage of artistic craftsmanship. These three books are an important first step, intended as a lasting record of Swiss artisans. However, we are also considering organizing workshops, conferences, and—our ultimate dream—the creation of skills-based sponsorship. Such exchanges would be unique and enriching for everyone involved.

You photographed all your reports yourself. Was that essential to your approach?

Yes, it was an important aspect. The challenge was dealing with artisans who were not accustomed to having outsiders unfamiliar with their craft visit their workshops. I therefore decided to go alone, without a photographer, and to handle everything myself to be as unobtrusive as possible. Capturing images and writing the text sometimes required up to ten meetings. For some artisans, the manufacturing processes are lengthy, such as the wine nursery grower, whose cycle spans a year and a half and involves 24 different manual operations. It was necessary to document every step of their expertise—missing one would mean failing to fully understand their work. I am a proponent of long-form journalism and adapted to the artisans' rhythms. I am convinced that the current context is favorable to shedding light on these crafts, as people are increasingly drawn to local, sustainable practices and objects with soul. All these artisans are part of Switzerland’s cultural heritage, and it is crucial to pay attention because when an artisan retires without passing on their knowledge, a craft dies with them.