Recently on a pipe discussion forum, one of the members there posed a great question:

“What exactly is a North American style pipe? Do North American carvers borrow from everyone else or do they have specific characteristics that make them unique?”

Some questions are nearly impossible to answer and this may be one of them. Certainly, by choosing certain examples, it seems possible to make a variety of cases and come to different conclusions. It was for that reason that I began my response post with this disclaimer: “I'm hesitant to try and speak to such a general question as this one, but I've decided that I'll give it a try to the extent that I'm able. You can take my opinion with a grain of salt; it is a big question and may not be able to be answered, but I have a few observations on the matter.”

With some seeming unanswerable questions such as this one, the value is not in the answer but rather in staying in the question. I’ve been pondering this one for awhile and I think it has value.

As I’ve written my various artisan profiles — and considered artisan-subjects for others — I always consider an artisan’s body of work; I look for aspects of stylistic continuity, not just at quality, technical virtuosity, or productivity. To me, an exciting pipe artisan is one who works with a distinctive vocabulary that has evolved to be consistent and recognizable.

I want to be able to look at an artisan’s pipes without seeing the stamping and be able to recognize their creator. I think this takes both an eye for design and a lot of experience looking at pipes. Some artisan’s work is so distinctive as to be unmistakable; Hiroyuki Tokutumi, J.T. Cooke, and Larry Roush stand out as prime examples. Someone may not like pipes from these artisans, but there is no mistaking who made them.

I will never forget the time I was walking through the Chicago Show with one of my favorite small Danish bulldogs in my mouth when Per Bilhall smiled at me and said, “Is that a Bjorn you’re smoking?” Of course it was. Now Bjorn Bengtsson is Swedish but he makes very few pipes and I was probably fifteen feet away from Per when he asked. It would seem that Per has seen enough Bjorn pipes to recognize who makes them. An artisan whose work is 1) beautiful 2) distinctive, and 3) recognizable has accomplished something important to my way of thinking. The Bjorn of which I write is depicted here:

“I don't believe there is such a thing as a unified North American style. It depends entirely on which carver (singular) you select. The influence could be Danish, Italian, English, or a complete homebrew. Because of our dispersal, North American carvers select their own influences, some traveling abroad to acquire them.”

I think Jack’s point of view is very defensible. It’s hard to argue with him and he may, in fact, have reached a more reliable conclusion than my own. I believe that there are unifying stylistic “tells” that, taken together, reveal a North American style.

My collecting focus is on North American pipe artisans. I'm also involved in a pretty extensive interviewing and writing process that is resulting in a series of articles and a book on North American carvers. I’ve listened to a lot of pipe makers speak about their work and I hear a consistency of aesthetic objectives, but - who knows - perhaps it’s all in my imagination.

Certainly, this question can only be answered impressionistically as any reasonable answer requires inspection and observation of many different artisans' work over a period of time. By definition, my experience is limited.

As is the case with most artists (and artisans), it is easier to talk about specific artisans. Take my friend Jack Howell, for example. I find his work singularly recognizable in aesthetic terms. One reason I believe this is that his work so strongly resonates with my own aesthetic. I love it. I find myself wanting most of what he makes.  But I digress....

One of the difficulties in addressing this question is that there is a great deal of both artistic and technical influencing going on. The spheres of influence are not limited to North America.

For example, H. Tokutumi has had a momentous impact on the work of many North American carvers, including Todd Johnson, Jeff Gracik, Michael Lindner, and Brad Pohlmann. Tokutumi's influence on Johnson has been adapted through mutation and experimentation, and passed on (through his aesthetic filters) to people like Brad Pohlman and Jeff Gracik.

Jeff Gracik is very open about Jody Davis' influence on his work. Jody has likewise influenced people like Michael Lindner. Adam Davidson worked with Todd Johnson in his shop making Medici pipes, and Davidson also studied design with John Crosby at Purdue. I see both Crosby’s and Johnson’s influences in Adam’s work.

The strong professional and interpersonal relationships between these various artisans cannot help but produce aesthetic influences along with technical advances. This is the nature of art. Even the great impressionists were significant influences upon each other, moving in and out of periods of painting more or less derivatively. When experimentation, imitation, and innovation steep together inside a talented artist or artisan, what comes of the process may reveal incremental change or a completely transformative result. This is exciting to witness and it’s one of the reasons that I am fascinated by not only the personal relationships that pipe artisans have with each other but also how those relationships create a sequence of influences.

So, to get back to the fundamental question about a definitive North American style, I offered the following observations in my post:

If I were to characterize the aesthetic vocabulary and shaping strategies of North American carvers, I would describe their shaping aesthetic - overall - as "muscular" in comparison to other Europeans and the Japanese. There is a certain "heftiness" and "beefiness" in both the lines and in the design; take a look at Larry Roush, Jim Cooke, Brad Pohlman, and Brian Ruthenberg and compare their approach to proportions and lines to the Danes and you'll see what I mean. There's a lot of testosterone in the overall aesthetic vocabulary.

Take a look at the Pohlmann “John Bull” bulldog depicted at the top of this post. This piece is unmistakably American. It is beefy, muscular, and large. The downward swooping shank  creates an S-curve that is Danish-inspired (I see a certain S. Bang-ness in the curvature, personally), but which has a certain organic quality. The ring blast is moderately deep but very defined. Compare this Pohlmann to the Barling quarter bent bulldog - a pipe  that is distinctively English in its dimensions and design.

The Brian Ruthenberg LB-styled billiard shows a strong American influence. Though its lines are Dunhill-influenced, this billiard is the pipe-equivalent to a body builder. It is big, bold, and cocky.

The Adam Davidson freehand depicted below is clearly a departure from a bulldog, but again its heft, asymmetry, and foreshortened proportions say “North American.”

Some artisans working in North America - like Tonni Nielsen and Alex Florov , for example - create pipes that are more strongly aligned with the Danish and European style. Tonni may be in Kentucky, but he is clearly a Dane by training, sensibility, and results.

The Danish brandy-glass depicted below reveals American influences; it has delicate and graceful Danish lines but it is a large pipe and its lines suggest slightly more muscle.