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A disappearing divide?

Europeans have big, famous shops in prestigious high streets. Americans have websites full of pixeled pipes. Europeans smoke in splendid isolation. Americans have clubs and shows. It's not just a question of traditions, but of geography. The pipe show, a US invention, reflects the size of the country and the thin distribution of B&M stores. A new style of Internet salesmanship addresses the need for educated intimacy over long distances. Can densely populated Europe import these enhancements? Does it really need to?

 
Europe's first big show will be held here in Cuxhaven.

"Basically, the distinctions boil down to cultural differences," says US enthusiast Mark Shelor, who has spent prolonged periods of his life in Europe, working in Frankfurt and Brussels.

"We Americans are experimenters, and like to try new things; Europeans, on the other hand, have a stronger sense of tradition which is usually reflected in a more selective and consistent stock among the various pipe dealers."

 

The owner of a German 'brick and mortar' (B&M) store disagrees: "Granted, the Americans are different. But the differences hinge on more viable things than 'culture'. Our conventional retail structure is far more intact than theirs. Accordingly, many collectors over here still refuse to purchase via the Internet. They don't need to accept the anonymity, the waiting times and the uncertainty."

 

One wonders whether he has ever glanced at the booming pipe section on German Ebay! Lest we forget how different we still are, German carving star Rainer Barbi and Mark Shelor take a look at each other's continents in comments on this page. But signs are that the cultural (or whatever) divide is narrowing - as the contrasts lose much of their foundation in reality.

Showtime in Germany

Well-travelled Rolf Osterndorff has a passion for the American way of doing things. That's how the first major pipe show in Europe became his personal project - a new flagship for the former sea captain from Cuxhaven in northern Germany. With Bo Nordh himself now leading the cast of stars expected to attend from Europe and America, Rolf's hyper-event in August looks set to sail or sink in a big way. Much depends on the size of the audience and its willingness to spend money, and that's a variable that has not been tested in Europe, yet.

Though Rolf himself cautions that shows are about contacts, PR and good impressions, rather than instant cash, it's clear that carvers and dealers used to US-style conventions will be hoping for more than vague 'strategic' headway in Cuxhaven. "Success is measured in the period between one show and the next," says Rolf. But on-site sales and deals simply are an important part of show-business in the New World, and one wonders whether Rolf's adjusted paradigm will suffice to console exhibitors, should Cuxhaven prove less profitable.

"Americans need shows because they don't have shops," the German vendor warns. "With the decent pipe stores over there so few and far between, it makes logistical sense for collectors to save their pennies for one big show. In a sense, the pipe show is the positive consequence of a big negative - the lack of B&M outlets. Sure, a show is a great emotional thing, a bonding experience, a party. But the real reason it works is that it makes practical and financial sense. Whether it can make similar sense over here remains to be seen."

Your dealer - your pen pal

The other part of the American pipe equation is quality e-commerce run by experts. Eloquent people able to describe a masterpiece in five neatly written sentences, to answer mails and phone calls in a knowledgeable fashion, to establish themselves as authorities in their own right: for many pipesters, these dealers now form the backbone of the premium pipe retail business in the US. Their job is to help people see what is on offer - to discuss, to evaluate, to provide an educated, conversational environment for an otherwise rather abstract and glum sales drill. The most successful have turned their weekly site updates into celebrated mini-events for the collecting scene.

Europeans don't have many equivalents, yet. The suit-clad, discreetly helpful offline trader still rules almost supreme in London and Munich. Over the years, he may have become less competent and enthusiastic, perhaps even a non-smoker, but since high-grade customers tend to bring their own expertise to the store, he can safely float around his well-stocked shelves and wait until a credit card is thrust at him. Those salesmen that still boast a measure of pipe wisdom are rightly respected and favoured for it, but the bottom line is that the goods - being physically present - largely sell themselves.

Silent evolution

Sadly, the downside is that many B&M owners in Europe are hardly worth talking to anymore. If communication is part of a customer's ideal buying process, he might have more fun exchanging emails with a dedicated online dealer. Too many of the people who staff European shops are simply indifferent to pipes. Above all, they are unable to educate and guide a novice smoker.

Indeed, why should they wish to do so? Germans, for example, spent about six times as much money on cigars and cigarillos as on pipe tobacco, last year. The quality tobacconist has little reason to expand his pipe repertoire - and every excuse to dismantle briar cabinets in favour of a larger walk-in humidor. And this is precisely the kind of infrastructure erosion Europeans have been experiencing over the past few years. In Germany, especially, we're still miles away from a true scarcity of good stores, but - more and more - the remaining shops cater for an increasingly far-flung clientele. Accordingly, some are turning to the Internet as an additional, more accessible sales channel for their non-local customers.

German star carver Rainer Barbi on the Chicago Pipe Show:

Call me a dinosaur, call me baroque. I just have to admit that I love shows.

I simply adore these monster events, when hundreds of people gather together in an almost naïve spirit of fun, beaming as they share their passion, forgetting daily life to dive into the world of their desires.

Showtime - when the doors open in the evening, armies of enthusiasts storming the rooms, masculine hands gripping Budweiser cans as they inspect the briar jewels on display. The air vibrates, men become kids - you can hear their hearts beat, as even the toughest negotiations are transformed into feverish play.

No stress, no haste, no cramped business gestures. Buying and selling become side effects of something bigger. Who cares whether we struck a bad deal today? Doesn't matter. A new sun will rise tomorrow and luck will be on our side. And that's the only important thing: to have fun, to give and to receive pleasure.

And in this spirit, the show flows towards its end. The battle fought and won together, buyers and sellers, collectors and swappers settle down in the relaxing atmosphere of an evening dinner for one last passionate exchange of ideas - and the firm pledge that this show must go on.

God Bless Chicago!

 
 

US collector Mark Shelor remembers his first pipe-buying trip to London:

I made it a point to discover as much as possible within easy travel distance from Frankfurt and Brussels. The rail systems in Europe are very good, so my pilgrimages spanned a large number of cities such as Cologne, Berlin, Amsterdam, Paris, and, of course, London. The pipe shops in those cities were all highpoints, but London clearly stands out in my mind as the Mecca of pipe smoking.

Entering the pipe shops in London transformed my life as a pipe smoker. The visit to Astleys in particular was the defining moment: it was overwhelming to see such a large number of pieces, each of which embodied a sort of otherworldly perfection. I now understood the fascination with high-grade pipes. This was art, and the quiet, dignified atmosphere of the shop gave me the palpable assurance that pipe smoking is a sublime and highly civilized activity. That feeling has not left me since, which is why I'm never shy or self-conscious about smoking a pipe in public.

An easy walk then took me to Bond's of Oxford Street. The atmosphere there was busier and more commercial than Astleys, but seeing tray after tray of old straight-grained Upshalls gave me no cause for complaint. I couldn't believe my eyes. At that time, straight-grains were rare and extremely expensive in the U.S. Yet, in the U.K., they were plentiful and reasonably priced. Location obviously played a prominent role then. Nowadays, the Internet has been effective in closing the price and availability gap. But there's still no substitute for a good walk through London when you're on the hunt for a classic English make. Did I mention the two Willmer straight-grains I found as basket pipes in Harrods for 25 pounds a piece?

In the centre of the former German capital of Bonn, for example, only four pipe shops out of seven survived the 1990's. One of them is currently closing down. Two have practically stopped stocking high grades, and the fourth is in the process of expanding its activities to the Internet - despite the alleged lack of customer interest in pixel-based purchases, postulated by its own proprietor until quite recently.

As such things happen, of course, an 'American' flavour of business may well come to replace our time-honoured way of doing things in Europe. Will that be good or bad? Or merely inevitable? Will an ever more cosmopolitan and net-savvy generation of buyers even notice the evolution taking place?

One person who might is Mark Shelor.

"I'll always look forward to pipe-related travels in Europe," he says. "Future trips will hopefully include visits to Italy and Denmark. I suspect they'll result in further life-transforming experiences. "

Signs are that Mark may have to hurry. Or go to Cuxhaven.

(March 15, 2004)

 
     

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© 2004 und ViSdP: Martin Farrent