There are obvious links between clockmaking and bellringing — not least that the word ‘clock’ comes from the medieval Latin clocca, meaning ‘bell’. However, I came to them both separately.
After coming across horology by chance in my late teens, I found that it was a career that combined all my interests in the best possible way. I come from an artistic background but lack the creative freedom of a true artist, so the puzzle-solving nature of horology, together with its mix of history, maths, and science, suited me perfectly.
I tried to get some training with local clockmakers in Brighton, without success, and eventually decided to go to Birmingham to study on the horology course in the heart of the Jewellery Quarter. Once I’d completed my training, I worked in a clock shop in London and it was during my time here that I started my bell ringing journey.
I’ve always loved the sound of church bells and finally, one day, after hearing some bells in central London, I decided to find out who was ringing them. I received a quick reply inviting me to a practice night in Hackney the following evening, and after attending twice I was firmly asked whether I intended to commit. Things moved fast! Eight years later, I’m now steeple-keeper-in-training at my local tower and ring regularly.
I’ve always felt that the two crafts fit perfectly together. On tower outings I often find myself ringing beside a clock quietly ticking in the corner, and when I’m working on tower clocks I check that the linkages between the clock and bells are functioning as they should. It really is a perfect match.
There are plenty of bells in my workshop too. It can get very noisy at midday, but most of the time there’s a peaceful background of ticking clocks, the occasional sound of a machine or hammer, and the hum of the radio. Most of my work involves restoring domestic clocks, some more than 200 years old, others much newer, but I enjoy the variety. When a clock stops, the cause is usually lack of lubrication and a build-up of dirt rather than a fault in the design itself. It’s always satisfying to clean away years of grime, replace a worn bush, and see the clock working as it should once more.
Clockmaking and ringing are similar in that they are crafts that take patience and repetition, and there’s a slow improvement over time with precision, and consistency. They are physically linked through the bells: the clock measures time and the bells give it a voice, something that was essential for the everyday person in history who couldn’t tell the time for themselves. That relationship still matters and these mechanisms continue to do their work, provided they’re maintained and valued.
Through my business, A R Kirk Clocks, based in Brighton, I specialise in the repair and restoration of antique clocks. Mechanical clocks are amazing items that, with proper care, will last for centuries to come. The ringing community is part of that, raising awareness for not only the bells and ringing traditions but the clocks that live alongside it.
Restoring a clock, like ringing a good piece of method, is mostly about keeping things steady and in order. It’s not dramatic, but it’s deeply satisfying. And like the best ringing, when it’s going well, it will run like clockwork.