Beauty and the Billiard
-
Kevin Godbee - Jan 8, 2014
- 5 min read
G. L. Pease
In the (somewhat more than) three decades I’ve been accumulating pipes — I choose the word purposefully to distinguish the briar aggregation that currently shares my residence from the purposeful, themed groupings curated by more deliberate and true collectors — I’ve found myself attracted at various times to many different shapes, at one time chasing Princes, another bent Bulldogs, or Apples or Blowfish. You get the picture; my tastes are capricious. There have even been moments of attraction to wild freeform pipes that do not adhere to any prescribed taxonomy, though I rarely admit it in public. The result of all these years of accumulation with abandon is that my “collection” is a motley crew of shapes from traditional to modern, the only threads running through it from one end to the other being the word pipe, and that, at least at one time, I was attracted enough to each one to acquire it. If I wanted to elevate it, I suppose I could call it a collection of collections, but even that seems overly lofty.
Throughout, my appreciation for the pure and refined elegance of the simple Billiard has waxed and, mostly, waned. In my early days, all those years ago, emboldened mainly by the neophyte’s enthusiastic but too often blind hubris, I remember telling a friend who collected nothing but the Billiard was “boring;” I liked more interesting shapes. He laughed, and tried to guide me to realize that, in fact, the well-cut billiard could well be the pipe’s most perfect shape, the very quintessence of the pipe. I wasn’t having any. In reflection, now that I may have learned a thing or two, I know that my uninformed statement couldn’t have been more wrong. The Billiard is anything but boring. Neither is it as simple as it may first appear.
It seems I had naïvely dismissed the Billiard as being little more than a couple of cylinders at right angles to each other with a stem stuck in the end of the smaller one. No wonder I thought the shape was boring. It wasn’t until, my old friend’s words echoing in my mind, I really looked at the things, the rich diversity of one of the oldest shapes in the history of the briar pipe, that I began to appreciate it not only for what it was, but for what it wasn’t.
That “cylindrical” bowl is actually far from it. Looking through old catalogues at hundreds of different examples, it becomes clear that those soft curves, anywhere from delicate to voluptuous, are far more defining of the shape than a straight sided cylinder would be. Go too far along the curvy road, and the bowl morphs into that of an Apple or a Brandy, but leave the sides straight, and it’s just …wrong.
And, that right angle thing? Forget it. When the major axis of a straight pipe’s bowl and that of its shank are geometrically perpendicular, the bowl looks like a drunk ready to fall over backwards. A very slight forward tilt, even if it’s only a degree or two, is essential to the shape’s poise. A little more, and the pipe gains thrust, a little velocity; too jaunty, though, it moves towards the Belge. And the shank? It is often cylindrical, but it’s sometimes slightly tapered, or square, or diamond shaped, and the long, elegant, oval-shanked Canadian is just a billiard in a tuxedo.
Because of fairly loose specifications, the Billiard is one of the most versatile shapes, subject to a great deal of freedom in interpretation, and that’s part of its charm. In contrast to a highly constrained shape — the Prince, for example, which if treated with anything more than light-handed variation, transforms into something very much not a Prince — the billiard is very forgiving. Large, or small, long or short, chubby or slender, saddle stem or tapered; all can qualify for the term “classic.” As one of the oldest shapes on the books, it would be tempting to assume that every possible variation has been made, yet new stylistic forms are still being created that may push against the shape’s envelope, but still remain true to its defining outline. So much for being boring.
Why am I going on at such length about Billiards? Because of a newly rekindled appreciation for their simplicity, for their variety, for the purity of their nature as the archetype of the briar pipe, and, mostly, for their beauty. Though my tastes are fairly firmly rooted in the classic shapes, I do appreciate the creativity and playfulness of some of the more sculptural designs. But, occasionally, something emerges from the pipe maker’s folly that looks more like the result of a late-night tryst between a Cylon raider and My Little Pony than a pipe. When it becomes too much work to coerce my thinking in strange ways to embrace or even comprehend a shape that doesn’t speak the word “pipe” to me, or just to try to figure out how I’d hold the thing, my brain begins to throb.
The perfect Billiard is something of an opposing force, a backlash, a remedy to the throbbing. It’s comforting and comfortable. It’s PIPE writ large, reduced to its basic elements, with everything unnecessary cut away, but with impeccable aesthetics. There’s no jutting chin, no bulbous protuberances, no harsh angles, no decorative wings. Its beauty lies in the purity of its voice, the nuances of its line, the subtlety of its curves, its balance. There’s a reason that in many of the old catalogues and shape charts, the billiard and its variants account for roughly half of all the straight shapes. Even when their numbers are added together, the delightful Dublins and Apples remain a distant second. For over a century and a half, the Billiard has reigned as the king of straight pipes.
I’m certainly not abandoning all the other shapes I’ve come to love and accumulate over the years — the Bulldogs, the Princes, the Dublins — or any that might find their way into my racks in the future. But, at a time when so many wild styles are lauded by collectors, it felt like someone had to speak up for the grand old man, give him a little extra time in the sun, and offer a voice to all the closet Billiard fans out there. Long live the Billiard.
Your turn.
-glp
 Since 1999, Gregory L. Pease has been the principal alchemist behind the blends of G.L. Pease Artisanal Tobaccos. He’s been a passionate pipeman since his university days, having cut his pipe teeth at the now extinct Drucquer & Sons Tobacconist in Berkeley, California. Greg is also author of The Briar & Leaf Chronicles, a photographer, recovering computer scientist, sometimes chef, and creator of The Epicure’s Asylum. See our interview with G. L. Pease here. |
Written by Kevin Godbee
16 Responses
Recent Posts
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 606. Our featured interview tonight is with Per George Jensen. Most pipe enthusiasts know Per as the longtime Mac Baren Tobacco Company spokesman. Last year he made some changes in his life. He got married, moved to Germany and parted ways with Mac Baren, but not with the tobacco business. He is consulting with Sutliff Tobacco Co., and he created the popular and unique signature tobacco series, “Pipe Force”. Tonight’s discussion will include details on Per’s line of blending tobacco, which has something for everyone. You can smoke them straight, but if you want to blend tobaccos, we will have some good advice on this episode. At the top of the show, since it’s springtime, Brian will discuss seasonal tobaccos and answer two questions that come up often.
His grandfather came to the US with a $50 gold coin in his shoe, opened up a cigar shop, and his most famous customer was Babe Ruth. He holds the record for the longest slow smoke in the world at over 24 hours, and he is the only man who stopped Chuck Norris from round-house kicking the Nording Pipe Statue. The most interesting man in the world, Jonathan Goldsmith, stopped by the Chicago Pipe Show this year to get kissed on the cheek by Neal Osborn. Wait, what? OK, I kid. Jonathan came to honor his friend and fishing buddy Steve Norse of Vermont Freehand at the annual Doctors and Masters of Pipes award dinner. Steve was one of the two recipients of the Masters of Pipes award and asked Johnathan to show up and add some color to his acceptance speech. Slightly overshadowed but no less important! Jay Furman was also honored as this year’s hobbyist Master of Pipes, joining me and a pipe-star-studded list of great contributors to the hobby and profession of pipes. Jay is a character in his own right. While I don’t know him as well as I would like, I’ve learned that he’s a kind-hearted collector who started the Artisan Pipe Makers Club, a place where new artisans learn, grow, and are challenged. There are around 60 artisans who participate, collaborate, and learn. Jay and Mike Bishop also started the Long Island Pipe Club, which has around 50 members and meets twice a month on different sides of the island. What is not featured here are pictures of the Doctors of Pipes. Both recipients were unable to attend: Marco Parascenzo – Doctor of Pipes, Trade/Industry Regis MacCafferty – Doctor of Pipes, Hobby Please join us in congratulating these newly inducted Doctors and Masters of Pipes. It is a great honor, and each of these men embodies what our hobby and industry strive to do: grow, educate, and cultivate its future. I encourage everyone to attend the dinner next year as it’s always illuminating. And now, on with the show. Sort of. You may be wondering what the most interesting pipe smoker in the world smokes…. I didn’t miss the opportunity to chat with this incredibly nice man, whom Brian Levine and I also remembered from one of our favorite TV shows, the A-Team. He was also in many other shows from the 80s, such as Magnum PI, Murder She Wrote, Dallas, and MacGyver, just to name a few. Jonathan: I actually enjoy simple and readily available tobacco like Captain Black or some black cavendish from my local cigar and pipe shop in Vermont. What about your first pipe? Jonathan: I picked up my first pipe; I think it was a billiard when I was in London many years ago at a place called James Fox. How often do you smoke? Jonathan: Almost every day. I enjoy a pipe in the morning and a cigar in the afternoon. I want to thank Jonathan Goldsmith for taking a few minutes to sit down with me and being gracious enough to snap pictures with many of us at the show; it was a ton of fun and made this year’s show even more memorable! This year, the Chicago Pipe Show kicked it up a notch with a new location, new signage, new pre-registration and payment system, new show executive staff, and lots of new surprises. Now, Tim Garrity, President of the Chicagoland Pipe Club, tells me that over 400 attendees were at the show, but they are still tabulating the numbers too, so this is subject to getting updated and expanded. We do have our dates for next year at this same location – the first weekend of May at the Hyatt Regency, Chicago O’Hare. Of course, like any good Chicago show, there was plenty of room hopping and the announcement board. The signage this year was super helpful in knowing where to go when to go, and what tables our favorite vendors were at. While the show was jam-packed, the spacing of the tables allowed everyone to move around freely and didn’t feel over-crowded as the tables and isles were spaced out to allow room for vendors and collectors to stretch out. The smoking tent was hopping all the time, but luckily, air flow and some great air purifiers by Lake Air kept it fresh. As usual, there was a great sample table with tons of things to try in the tent, and on your way to the tent, there was a conveniently placed cash bar. This year the tent was 25% bigger than last year, although you wouldn’t notice because there were more people at the show! Kaywoodie is under new Management. At the show, I chatted with Nathan “Greywoodie” Davis about how he came to take over the 173-year-old company. Tell me how this happened. Nathan: This month is my 5th anniversary of Greywoodie opening. I was friends with Bill and had a huge collection of Kaywoodies – I approached him about having them available outside of brick and mortar. He had no online presence and didn’t sell direct. He said if I wanted them to be more available, the best thing I could do was quit my job and sell them myself. He was mostly kidding because I had a really good job in the legal profession, but I wasn’t happy so one day I did give him a call and said “hey whats your minimum order,” and he said “You didn’t just quit your job because I was joking?” I did and I started out that way as an online retailer. So, in working with him, we did exclusives, and I learned about pipe making from him, both production and hand-made. We brought back some historical lines as well, and soon enough, I was helping to make the pipes I was buying from him. It was great for him to get my labor […]
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 605. Our featured interview tonight is with Pete Prevost. Pete is a pipe maker and the President of the BriarWorks pipe factory in Columbia Tennessee. BriarWorks is a a pipe maker co-op with several other pipe makers, including Todd Johnson, who co-founded it with Pete. Brian and Pete will be talking about what’s new at BriarWorks, and how they are getting ready to attend the Chicago pipe show. (This was recorded before the show that took place last weekend.) At the top of the show, Brian will give his report of his travels and what happened at the Chicago show.
When I first started with the pipe as a quirky and precocious teen, the only tutelage I had at my disposal were scenes from old movies in which a well dressed chap would stick his pipe into a pouch, scoop tobacco into the bowl and press it down unceremoniously with his thumb. Then, with great flourish, he’d strike a match and light the thing with all manner of cinematic excess, puffing up vast clouds of smoke falling just short of completely obscuring his visage. While it may look good on film, it’s a terrible approach to actually enjoying the thing. Somehow, though, this “technique” seems to have survived in the contemporary vernacular, at least to some extent, even with bit-loads of information handily at our fingertips that should dissuade us from the practice. But, at the time, this misguided approach was all I had; it’s no wonder my early days of puffing were fraught with difficult lighting, harsh, bitter smokes and tongue bite, all culminating in a fireproof mass of ye old soggy dottle in the bottom of the bowl. Ultimately, the resulting frustration made me give up the pipe, at least for a while. While the idea of it was still very appealing, the practice of it was not. It wasn’t until a few years later when, still full of curiosity and romantic notions of pipe smoking, I wandered into a real tobacconist’s shop, and learned my “method” was a long way from the techniques that would bring me to any sort of pipe smoking bliss. So, after my poor start, and under the guidance of someone who actually seemed to know how to do it right, I was given the opportunity to approach the process anew, this time with much greater success. It was only because I was both perseverent, and fortunate to have a local shop staffed with knowledgeable people, that I’ve been able to enjoy the experience ever since. At least mostly… How many fledgeling pipe smokers have simply given up on an enjoyable pastime because of similar early mis-starts? Fortunately, today, it’s not hard to find helpful guidance at the press of a key or ten. But, at the same time, not all roads lead to Valhalla, and sometimes the advice offered might well be labeled with, “Here be dragons.” The other day, I came across a short video on-line in which a well-meaning tobacconist suggested packing a bowl of an “English” mixture “nice and tight.” Perhaps somewhat ironically, I was smoking, or trying to smoke a bowl that I’d filled on auto-pilot, packed too tightly, and not only was having the devil of a time trying to keep it lit, I really wasn’t enjoying the acrid smoke the tobacco issued during the brief periods in which it was actually burning. “No, no, NO!” I found myself muttering at my pipe, and at the figure on the screen, my protests joined by the guttural growling noises that sometimes accompany my discontent. Defiantly, I grabbed a pipe nail, shoveled out the dense, asbestos-like clog from the bowl, swabbed out the shank with a pipe cleaner, more out of habit than need since I hadn’t actually smoked enough of the mass to foul the shank, and started over, this time paying proper attention to what I was doing. (For as long as I’ve been doing this, I still screw it all up sometimes.) Much better. This got me thinking about a couple things that are so important to the maximal enjoyment of our pipes, yet not often enough discussed, namely how different tobaccos respond to variations in filling density, and moisture content; two separate but related parameters. Once I’d been shown the proper way to fill the bowl, or at least a proper way, everything had changed for me. I also began drying my tobacco down as a matter of course. Suddenly, there was greater cooperation between leaf and flame, the smoke was rich and flavorful, and it burned mostly to the bottom of the bowl with few relights. Given that, at the time, I smoked latakia mixtures almost exclusively, there didn’t seem to be a reason to explore beyond my “new” approach. It wasn’t until my attention turned in the direction of Virginia blends that I had to look a bit deeper. The same technique that worked so well for me with latakia mixtures resulted in bland, and often harsh smokes with Virginias. I attributed this to the tobaccos, convincing myself that I just didn’t like the stuff. At one of our pipe club meetings, I was talking with a friend who smoked Three Nuns exclusively. When he offered me a bowl. I thanked him, and told him that I just didn’t seem to get along well with Virginias, that they weren’t for me. “Maybe it’s the way you pack them. Here, let me fill your pipe for you.” I watched as he rubbed out a few coins to fine ribbons, moister than I was then accustomed to, and filled the bowl carefully in stages, pressing it tighter than I would have. Prepared for a nightmare, I was instead treated to a pipe dream. The tobacco smoldered slowly and almost continuously, delivering a rich, cool, sweet and delicious smoke. After that, I spent some time exploring the impact of these two variables, moisture content and packing density, on different mixtures and blends, always with similar results. Latakia mixtures, and to a lesser extent, those with a high percentage of oriental leaf, taste and smoke better when they’re on the dry side and the bowl is filled loosely, while Virginia blends tend to work best with a little more moisture and a denser fill. Burleys seem to work best somewhere in between, except for cube-cuts, which don’t like to be packed with much pressure at all. (Gravity fill, tap the bowl to settle the cubes. Repeat until full.) For such a simple act, pipe smoking is filled with undefined complexities! The point behind all this? Often […]
Welcome to The Pipes Magazine Radio Show Episode 604. Our featured interview tonight is with Jon David Cole. JD is the Owner/Tobacconist at The Country Squire in Jackson, MS, and he is the former co-host of the podcast, Country Squire Radio, which ended their 10-year run last year. We’ll have JD with the “From the Country Squire” segment talking about all the new things happening at the store and in the business in general. At the top of the show, we’ll continue our audio tour of Brian’s pipe collection.
Before we begin, I should tell you: this tobacco review is being written by an A.I. Not the fancy new GPTs or their ilk; no, this is last century’s meat-and-bone, all-organic model. To be fair, a large part of what we call knowledge is merely the accumulated perceptions and impressions gathered from a life wandered through, synthesized into a spongy mass of what-it-is-that-we-think-that-we-know. The algorithm for this prompt is simple enough: pump thousands of bowls of smoldering plant matter into a gaping maw, cross-reference the chemical sensations with all other matter previously ingested or inhaled, sieve it all through the diffuse and fractal twin lens of memory and emotion, and churn out a panoply of adjectives that attempts to convey the sensations to someone who hasn’t experienced it yet. Odds are that a diligently trained monkey could succeed half the time; if this reviewer nears fifty-one percent then that would qualify as an unrivaled success. There must have been some similar musings perambulating through the mind of Per Jensen when he began his mad scientist routine at Sutliff with the Pipe Force project, which brings us to the current mixture under the microscope—Sutliff’s Pipe Force: Episode I. Here again are the unusual ingredients that engendered the series, with the stoved Rustica being the defining voice in this composition. From the tin: The Latakia-forward English mixture offers plenty of smoky flavor from the fire-cured leaf, which is artfully harmonized with floral, earthy Stoved Rustica. A mixture of high-grade Virginias imparts a natural sweetness. Katerini, the sole Oriental component, offers herb and spice notes bringing complexity and nuance to the flavor profile. It’s certainly Latakia-forward, with the stoved Rustica doubling up on the rhythm section like a second bassist. A first whiff from the tin releases the aromas of shoe leather and hide glue in a base of clay soil with a campfire wafted over it like last night’s beach party. Once it’s been accustomed to oxygen again, subtle hints of sweetness poke through from the Virginias: lemon rind, light milk chocolate, the dregs of a peaty Scotch, and muddled cherry. Old regulars like fresh-sawn oak and tilled earth are there, of course, with distinct notes of truffle, creosote, damp peat, and pine bark mulch. As an aside, I’ve been re-potting my camellias and the similarity of aroma to the ericaceous soil mix is notable; the Katerini really brings the unique depth of its vegetal complexion when supported by the Rustica and afforded more voice in the mix. The smoky Cyprian Latakia, in turn, is backed by equal earthiness from the Rustica, which overall exhibits a profile similar to dark-fired Kentucky; it leans more toward the woody and vegetal end of that spectrum, echoing and amplifying those traits of the other constituents. The tobacco is presented pressed and cut into a couple of thick, hearty flakes in the tin, lightly moist and easily crumbled to prepare—I prefer mine with a bit of drying time. The out-of-this-world tin art for this episode in the series is Major O’Meara smoking a cavalier. In the absence of confirmation, I’m going to hazard a guess he’s of the Ithklur species. The first taste from the light is sweet, with hints of that milk chocolate dancing around the edges. The Virginia leads the smoke through the top of the bowl, and orchestrates it well. Thoroughly smoky with lemony, grassy highlights from the Virginia spectrum, it soon segues into the mid-bowl profile: heartier, smokier, with the flavor leaning to the mildly acrid and tangy tinge that is the campfire-esque signature of English blends. Caution advised, it can turn overly bitter if pushed—this is where one’s sipping technique is required to maintain the fullness of flavor through to the heel. I did tend toward a lot of relights, though it may have as much to do with technique as with the blend. Pacing is also important as the nicotine starts to manifest; though the Rustica’s contribution has been tempered well by the stoving, it can certainly upend an empty stomach. At the end of every bowl, the mouthfeel somehow gets better. The balance of sugars in the tobaccos would seem to be spot-on in this regard. I started out my tasting in cobs, then cut short an unpleasant bowl in a meer, and finally landed on my best instrument with the lovely Dunhill 4427 pictured, a quaint group 4 shell briar with a gentle curve and Cumberland stem supporting a perfectly executed acorn bowl. It surprised me here, as I’ve learned through the years that I generally have the best experience with English blends in large, wide bowls. With this blend it seems that to get the best out of the Katerini’s somewhat diaphanous influence the smaller bowl fared much better. Room note is very English, so the company you keep will either love it or hate it, and it doesn’t linger too much. I find it paired best with a strong coffee; Sumatran beans complement the flavors well, as do Ethiopian if a lighter brew is preferred. Overall impressions of the blend are that it’s a curiously interesting take on the English genre, almost a reductive reconstruction of the theme using the unique components. This blend, if nothing else, expanded my vocabulary of sense perceptions with the uniquely treated leaf. While the average human can distinguish approximately one trillion (1,000,000,000,000!) different aromas, multiplied by seven basic tastes, and wholly dependent on variables from body chemistry to atmospheric conditions, our overworked and underpaid simian brains can’t effectively catalog them all. Our pet adding machines are exceedingly good at this, however, and someday soon they’ll be the ultimate and unequivocal authority on what something tastes, smells, looks, or even feels like. Until that time, friends, revel in the moments that can be stolen to savor over a bowl of Pipe Force: Episode I.
Greg,
Great article – amusing and thought provoking.
I must, however, dissent from your main thesis as I sit here smoking one of Luigi Radice’s reverse calabashes that might be described as a 1/8 bent tomato and has a bowl with wonderful thick walls that produces a wonderfully cool smoke even by the standard of the tobacco in it (your sublime Robusto as so often happens). Which brings me to the core of my antithesis; the shape of the pipe should match its function in meeting the needs of the individual smoker and my requirement is for thick cooling walls of wonderful briar and while the billiard can be thicker or thinner, to meet my preference it would need to be unfathomably huge or impossibly asymmetric. So in the last few of my 35 years of equally haphazard acquisition I have favoured cobras, squashed bulldogs (Peter Heeschen’s one might be a saucer inspired by yourself) and, indeed one of of Soren Refborg’s wildish freehands. Yes, I still love my old billiards but I find I smoke them less and less. Others will, of course have their own preferences many met by billiards but many by all sorts of shapes particularly bent or hooked pipes.
Why is the billiard the archetypical pipe shape? I would contend simply because it is easy to draw and easy to recognise so, apart from Sherlock Holmes calabash (and I will not go into this not being the shape he smoked in the books but probably started in a later play or film) it is the shape used by particularly cartoonists. This is particularly so as they tend to use the pipe as a symbol of a certain “pipes and slippers” conservatism or old fashionedness and while the billiard can be very crisp in design it is comparatively staid.
The billiard is the great classic shape certainly but for me thicker walls please!
Best wishes for the coming year to you all and I hope you and all your North American readers avoid the appalling weather we read is threatening you.
Ed
Good read – thanks!
I’m new to pipes and pipe smoking (just over a year now), and I was initially drawn to shapes other than the straight billiard. It’s a classic silhouette, but I associated it with the old-fashioned, even stodgy, image of pipes and pipe smokers, and looked more toward the flowing lines of bent pipes, calabashes, and churchwardens.
I’ve since come to appreciate the lines of a well-done straight billiard, and added one to my own extremely modest “collection” – and I find myself looking at them more and more as I decide what to add next. Thanks for pointing out some of the subtleties of the shape.
As I’ve gotten older, my racks have become dominated by the billiard and its variants. Sometimes I prefer a lovat, or Canadian, or a pot, or whatever, but they’re all pretty firmly in the billiard family tree.
Great read! I am A fan of the billiard shape! Nothing says pipe smoking to me like a classic, unadorned straight billiard.
Your article reminds me of my collecting habits, eclectic as they have been. But just when I think I have it all figured out, along comes a billiard that may just be the perfect pipe. Think about it, when you reach for a pipe, how often is it going to be a billiard? You might be surprised.
Good article, as always. I am a fan of the billiard family also. Most of my favorite pipes fall into this category.
Form follows function! Billiards (and their derivatives) for me function well and so the form is stripped down classic shaping.
I enjoy seeing artistic designs but, in the end, simple functionality contains its own beauty.
I am another billiard fan. When you add the variants of Canadian and lovat, that covers a majority of my small aggregation of pipes. It’s classic, and therein lies its appeal for me.
Not a straight billiard fan at all. The design just looks too pedestrian to me. My pipe carving friends assure me that carving a true billiard is extremely demanding.
The billiard will the shape for the upcoming 2014 GKCPC Pipe Carving Contest and I am told that the judging is going require that the pipe be a billiard not just some resemblance to one.
Ok, I can agree that for pure functionality a straight pipe is the only way to go. A pipe cleaner goes straight through and the chance of moisture is minimal. And if course, lets not forget ‘Father knows best’
But what about the bent? The bent pipe is my complete favorite, hands down. Yes, I own several straights, Dunhill, Scott Thile, two no-names, and I try to reach for them in my rotation. But it is an effort on my part; more like I should smoke them than I really want to.
The bent is just so comfortable to my jaw and my teeth. It is so easy to light and tamp and relight. True, if you have a poorly made one, it can get moist and if you are unlucky enough to have one where a cleaner doesn’t go through, well, there is some misfortune.
but get a well made one and you can be in tobacco heaven.
To you billiard guys, bless you all. For me, the gorgeous shape and form of a bent sends me to nirvana.
I love billiards. I only smoke straight pipes and quite often find this shape’s purity and minimalism quite commanding.
Makes me want to go out to my shop and make one right now!
My first love, in pipes, was and still is a billiard.A shape you should master, since so many are born from her.She is difficult, simple, yet demanding to create.Once perfected, you never forget all you were put through to create her.Life gets better from knowing this pipe.You can carve thousands of pipes, yet see a glimpse of her every now and then. I’m glad we met.
Pipedreamer, of guild pipes.
Glad to see the billiard getting some love. Great comments! Pipedreamer really captured it. I’ve tried, myself, and failed miserably in making a really nice billiard. In Tom Eltang’s shop, I made an almost pot-like billiard, and when I was done shaping, Tom looked at it critically (his eye is amazing, and he taught me a great deal about “seeing” the briar and the shapes within it), and said simply, “Pretty nice, but you should remove about 1/2 mm of wood here – and took it to the disk. Sure enough, that tiny change made a huge difference. It really made me appreciate the complexity of “simple” shapes.
I still don’t own even one true, straight-all-around billiard, but I’ve got several that are close- a lovat, a bent apple, Dublin etc. I am more of a curved pipe guy for many different reasons. You don’t have to clean a curved pipe as often, you can see the bowl better while you are smoking, and while I continue to find reasons to not smoke while driving- imagine that pipe in the even of an accident ramming into the back of your throat. Ditto for taking a fall while walking. I’m not a safety nut, but it’s worth considering.
Billiards often have smaller bowls, so if you like Virginias and vapers, you might want one. I’ve gotten attracted to them for that reason, and also as a reaction against my own natural tendency towards curvy, droopier ones.
I do take exception to the idea however that the billiard is the quintessential pipe style. It is if you are a 20th century kind of guy. Vintage modern marketing definitely bears that out- I think the Brits, Dick Van Dyke, and Bob Dobbs of the Church Of The SubGenius back that image. But if you have a love for the 19th century, and you go through the images of day from newspapers (woodcuts etc) you will see that the curvy pipe stem predominates.
My first pipe, purchased in 1963, was a billiard. I guess it was the archetypal “pipe” to my youthful eye. Since then my “collection”, has also become a “Motley Crew”, but billiards probably still outnumber any other shape.