Tech-mology . . . Is it good or is it wack?

This is one of my favorite Ali G segments, so I thought I'd post it in its entirety. You might be wondering what this has to do with pipes or pipemaking. I thought this would be a humorous way to put the word out on some impending technological advancements I'll be employing to stay better connected with my customers and to disseminate more information about what's going on in the shop. Keep an eye out, both at the site, and here on my blog for details. And to all you Homo sapiens out there . . . "Re-spec!"

Todd

Three Pipe Problem

I've recently been working on a number of blowfish in the style of my Incubus shape. This is a shape I first conceived of sometime in 2005 and have made half a dozen them since. I think it pulls in many of the distinctive elements of my work while also paying homage to both my Danish and Japanese influences. I will likely put together a set of these for Chicago but, in the mean time, I'm just enjoying doing some variations on a theme. One of the things I find troubling about this shape, however, is that it exists as something of a complete composition even without the stem. That's all fine and good, except that every pipe has to have a stem . . . well at least if you want to smoke it. The problem is that most pipemakers I know really dislike cutting stems--including me--and it can produce something of a backlog. 

The original Incubus Blowfish circa 2005

Right now, I've got three stems to cut before moving on to any more shaping or finishing. This is just another example of how pipe making is one part creativity and two parts discipline. The stems for these pieces will be quite fancy, but there is something about cutting stems that feels more like work than an act of pure creation. When you see the finished pipe in your mind's eye, the really interesting bit is concluded when the shape comes off the shaping wheel. From there, you're faced with sanding, filing, more sanding, a bit more filing, and, oh yeah, more sanding. I'm not complaining, it's a relaxing and contemplative process, but truth be told, I'd prefer to be shaping than cutting stems. So I suppose the only way to solve this "three pipe problem" is to cut three stems. So Monday morning, I shall set to work filing, and sanding, and scraping, and polishing, until I have solved my three pipe problem, and I have three lovely Incubi to show for my efforts. 

Daaaamn, I need a haircut!

Because we had a professional photographer with us the entire time, our entire trip to Reno and then Oregon was documented in great detail. Along with being a very talented up-and-coming pipemaker, Steve Morrisette is an unbelievable photographer. All of these shots are his . . . unless he's in them. In that case someone is doing the "teenage girls at Spring break" move where everyone clusters together while somebody holds the camera out with one arm and tries to get the shot in focus. It's probably Jeff as he has a penchant for such things. Do enjoy the photos.

Here we are relaxing in the room the night before the show. The East Tower rooms were really fantastic--just renovated. The West Tower rooms have teal or pink velvet bedspreads . . . no really.

This is actually the view out our hotel room window. Not bad.

In this shot, I'm just tightening the thumb screws on collector Mitch Michaelson. He wound up buying the pipe only after I offered to throw in the extra layer of undercoating for free. 

Jeff and I approach pipemaking very similarly and have great respect for one another's work. He might even be the second best pipemaker in the US . . . 

Brad in his signature eight panel cap and me in my recently acquired "mop." Brad actually has these custom made by a milliner in London. Mine is made in celebration of the fact that my days of straight razor shaves and custom tailored suits are in the past. 

A snowy roller-coaster.

Mount Shasta

I try to keep things pretty sober, but the other guys are constantly engaging in some sort of tomfoolery. I'm not exactly sure what the hell we're doing here, but I'm confident it was someone else's idea.

In case space aliens ever decide to visit southern Oregon the owners of this lama farm have sent them these well wishes. The astute observer will also pick up on the subtle message of patriotism they're trying to send.

After about six hours of driving, we finally arrived at casa-Pohlmann.

Here, Jeff and I have set to work rearranging some of Brad's equipment for better efficiency. Please notice the floral china teapot in the foreground. We may be a coarse and rowdy bunch, but we're not about to have our tea from anything less than real porcelain. 

In this shot, I've just told Brad he's no longer my first-best-friend, but has moved down the list to my second-best-friend. Clearly, he's incredulous. 

One of the most important aspects of pipemaking is first creating the tools to do so with precision and efficiency.

Putting the final touches on our collective blowfish. After shaping, the piece will be marked and drilled. 

In the South, beer and guns go together like biscuits and gravy. In southern Oregon, I guess they go together like petruli and power crystals.

Working on my contribution to a blowfish set that Jeff and I are putting together.

Brad smoking a Cuban while shaping a blowfish.

Jeff planning his attack on a little lathe-turned billiard.

Brad popped a vintage tin of Dunhill Mixture #10, a wonderful full English that has been out of production for a couple of decades. One of the great things about being friends with old folks like Brad and Steve is that you get to smoke tobacco older than you. 

Damn . . . I need a haircut.

Carver's Colloquium

Last weekend's Reno Pipe Show was, in my opinion, a resounding success. It brought out a number of top American carvers, some prominent (mostly west coast) collectors, and brought to light a truly first-rate venue for what I hope will be our next big annual pipe show. This first show was small and the organizers at Pipe Makers Emporium still seemed to be getting their sea legs, but it was a very well organized event that showed tremendous potential. There is talk of combining this show and Marty Pulvers' Las Vegas show next year. All I can say for those who missed it--and that's most of you-- is don't miss it next year. 

It was a pleasure meeting new carver Charles Cole at the show. 

In this picture, I'm drawing a cutaway of some spoon bits.

Now the primary reason I attended the Reno show was to enjoy the company of my good friends and fellow pipemakers, Jeff Gracik, Steve Morrisette, and Brad Pohlmann. Brad rolled out the red carpet for us at his ranch in southern Oregon, and we all gladly accepted. We left Sparks on Sunday morning and embarked on a beautiful journey north to casa Pohlmann. The scenic highlight of this trip was beautiful snow capped mount Shasta, captured in all its resplendent glory by Steve, who among other things is a professional photographer. I'll post some photos here when I receive them. No rush, Steve!

Upon our arrival we were greeted warmly by a menagerie of creatures ranging from horses to hens, Corgy's, a colossal canine the size of my own "best friend," and the most beautiful and delicate creature of all, Brad's daughter Brittney. I've been following Brittney in pictures since she was a wee lass, and seeing her for the first time as an accomplished and confident young woman was really a treat. 

From here, we moved to the shop where the first order of business was some reorganization. We applied some Lean Systems implementation to Brad's already spacious and well-equipped shop to improve the flow of work and maximize productivity. The result was that all four of us could be working productively at the same time, in the same space, without a great deal of overlap.

 

The four of us in repose (From left to right, Jeff, Brad, Todd, and Steve)

We decided to focus our attention on two shapes, the billiard and the blowfish. The former is, at turns, both the simplest and most difficult shape to execute, and a requisite for any papemaker wishing to claim the title. The latter has become the new "benchmark" for a carver who wants to show mastery of shape creativity, etc. Unfortunately, it's also the most often butchered shape there is. It was for this reason that we set our sights on the two aforementioned shapes. The four of us are all at various points along the learning curve, and it was a great privilege to instruct and to learn from one another. Jeff and I, who work similarly, were able to impart a number of time-saving techniques to Brad and Steve, while all of us were able to learn from Brad's masterful employment of precision tooling. Steve, who is an up-and-comer in the world of high grade pipemaking, brought a fresh approach to the process that we "hardened veterans" always benefit from.

 

Offering Brad a shaping tutorial on the blowfish.

The few days that we spent toiling away in the shop were productive ones. We turned out a number of pieces, both individually and collaboratively. Jeff and I managed to complete 90% of a blowfish set which will be available in the coming week. I free-handed a long shanked lovat primarily to demonstrate the process, while Jeff shaped a wispy little featherweight billiard on the lathe.

Our collective three day output.

The highlight of our productive efforts, however, is this smooth blowfish which was created collaboratively. I did most of the shaping with Steve, while Brad and Jeff worked on the engineering--the alignment, drilling, countersink, etc. We each took our turn with the stem, and the final polishing was done, if I remember correctly, by Steve. The pipe turned out beautifully and bears all four of our stamps. It is going to be available for purchase later this week, and once photographed properly, it can be viewed on each of our sites.

 

The collective blowfish

All in all, this was a tremendous few days. It reminded me why I love doing this so much and offered a rare opportunity to share something so often done in solitude. 

A New Breed of Fish

I've recently been corresponding with a well known collector about doing a couple of blowfish that specifically reflect my "style." The blowfish is a shape I'm pretty comfortable with. I've probably made well over a hundred of them, and have developed a specific set of lines, contours and ratios that I try to incorporate in each piece.

There is something of a controversy over the name "blowfish." For Lars, the moniker refers to a bent Scoop with teardrop shank and an ivory or boxwood ring. What is now more typically called the "blowfish," Lars refers to simply as the "cross-grain," but I digress. Essentially, my own blowfish is a melding of Lars' crossgrain and the "fugu" blowfish I learned to make at the feet of Hiroyuki Tokutomi.

In this case, however, my intention is to move outside the parameters of those norms I typically allow to bracket my work, and create pieces which specifically reflect my own ideas about it. The problem is that so-called "original" iterations of this shape are often hideous flaccid-shanked monstrosities with more "fins" than a radiator, or worse yet, wagon wheels on a stick. I'm hoping to avoid both while still managing to breathe new life into the famed fish. In my opinion, I've done that with the piece below, but you know what they say; opinions are like . . . everybody's got one.