The Unwritten Rules of Pipemaking

Like the eclectic tunesmith White, Heinemann has cultivated a gift for recasting classical elements into strikingly modern contexts—not surprising, since he is a product designer, joiner and professional furniture maker.

Today, he’s working on pipes, and he begins with light work that doesn’t require safety equipment. First some bowl coating on a Dubskimo, then contrast dying an Architect in his favorite black and orange combination. These are two of his signature shapes. The first, with its white Juma stem and partial blast, looks like an Inuit souvenir picked up at last year’s Iditarod on one of Heinemann’s many travels. He’s been through most of Western Europe, China, Bali, Portugal and the U.S., and he has plans for visiting Scotland, the Lofoten Islands of Norway and Canada. But wherever he is, he keeps an eye out not for pipe shapes but for interesting lines and details.

The Architect, one of his most strikingly original designs, looks like it jumped off the screen of Incredibles 2, but it was actually inspired by a day in the library spent poring over architecture books about mid-century modernists Oscar Niemeyer and Zaha Hadid (who, coincidentally, also inspired the look of the Disney film).

Heinemann also finds ideas, he confesses, quite by accident. “A shape will intrigue me, maybe a detail on a door handle in the subway or an interestingly shaped wine glass.” One of his unwritten rules: Sometimes the idea finds the maker and not the other way around.

Coffee, pipe and light work done, Heinemann turns to the main business of the day: shaping, drilling and sanding. He usually works on four pipes at a time until only minor work needs to be done then begins another four. About mid-morning he’ll stop for a mug of Lapsang souchong tea, another smoke and maybe a short conversation with Orla, one of two German Wirehaired Terriers in residence at the farm. Shaping. When developing a new idea, Heinemann first draws sketches from different angles to get an idea of how transitions, stem lengths and bowl height might work. If he hasn’t seen a shape as a pipe firsthand, he may shape it out of a hard foam that architects use for scale models.

Cutting. When the idea finally gels, he’ll pick up a few blocks of wood (he uses plateau briar sourced from cutters in Italy, Spain and Greece) to see how he can merge sketch and the grain of the wood. Once sketched, he cuts the block at the band saw then does rough shaping on the disc sander and belt sander, trying to remove any sandpits and spots in the process.

Bowl Drilling. With the shape roughed out, Heinemann draws the lines for the draft hole, chamber and tenon hole then drills the pipe on the lathe, using spoon bits for the chamber made by his friend Cody Perkins of True North Briars. The draft hole in the stummel is drilled at 4 mm, which Heinemann believes is small enough to prevent pieces of tobacco from getting stuck in it but still large enough to provide an easy draw.

Mouthpiece. The draft hole in the mouthpiece begins with 4 mm at the mortise then transitions to 1.5 mm at the button. Sometimes Heinemann uses pre-made 7 mm Delrin tenons and sometimes he turns the tenons directly out of the stem material on the lathe. Personal preference enters into his compositions. “I find mouthpieces which are 3.8 to 4 mm the most comfortable,” he says. “If they’re thicker, clenching becomes uncomfortable, and if they’re thinner, there’s too much possibility of biting through the air hole.”

Like most German pipemakers, Heinemann prefers vulcanite for his mouthpieces. He explains, “Guys who carve structures into the stem often prefer acrylic because you can’t do that with vulcanite.” Unwritten rule: “For me, a pipe is made to use and not just look at, and I think vulcanite is much more comfortable than acrylic, even if it is susceptible to bite marks.”

Tenon Accent. If there’s going to be an accent—and there often is—Heinemann will turn it at this point. It doesn’t have to be exotic to be exquisite. One of his most recent materials was given to him by his father from a lilac bush, a hardwood not commercially harvested though often used for musical instruments and carving.

Finishing. After the tenon, Heinemann turns to the finishing, which involves sanding, reshaping if new pits occur, staining, more sanding and the final hard oil finish. This last step is applied in seven to 10 coats over as many days and is followed by a light buffing and the application of a little carnauba wax. Each pipe is then stamped with “HP” for Heinemann Pipes in a circle over the number equaling his years as a carver—“8” being the current number.

He made three or four pipes a year after that, studying the work of masters like Bo Nordh and Cornelius Mänz (who, like Heinemann, is a product designer) and connecting with other German pipemakers online, in person or at pipe shows. The pipemaking community in Germany, as here in the United States, is primarily about collegiality, not competition. In 2011, Heinemann launched his career as a self-employed furniture designer and with it, pipemaking.

Out of the dialogue, study and craftsmanship, Heinemann says he has evolved a three-tiered philosophy of pipemaking:

“At a minimum, the pipe should be well-made. The drilling should be precise, the stem and button work clean. The draft hole should be neither too big nor too small. Attention to these details should produce a good smoker. It’s quite possible to purchase a factory pipe with these qualities for not much more than $50.

“But if you take it up a notch and ask what makes a good handmade pipe, the list would have to include four additional factors: 1. Good shaping—proportions, lines and precision—is the foundation of a great handmade; 2. optimum grain and grain placement; 3. the visual and tactile qualities of top-notch stain work; and 4. premium finishing.

“For me, and maybe this is another of my unwritten rules, there’s one more, higher tier, and it’s just this: At the end of the day, the best pipe is the pipe you like smoking. It’s as simple as that. Maybe it’s a pipe associated with fond memories. Maybe you got to know the maker; maybe you purchased it at an important event or time in your life. Maybe it was a gift from a friend or your wife.

“I have a corncob Jim and Jack Deschaine gave me, whose table was next to mine at my first Chicagoland show last May. They gave it to me saying, “Welcome to America!” Even though I have another pipe which Jim made for me that I love, that $5 cob means a lot to me. To me, pipe smoking and collecting is about storing up good memories.”

Some pipemakers—Werner Mummert, J.T. Cooke, Konstanstin Shekita and Claudio Cavicchi come easily to mind—are instantly recognizable while other artisans seem to depend on shapes that are in vogue at any given time. Heinemann believes that beginners should learn from existing shapes then move on to see if they can bring their own style and ideas into the mix. “Apart from functionality, there isn’t any ‘correct’ way of how a pipe should look. The worst thing that can happen is that a pipemaker becomes fearful of trying something new.”

Heinemann’s pipes are available at Smokingpipes.com, AlPascia, Scandpipes, Blue Room Briars, Pfeifen Shop Online and Heinemannpipes.com.

This story first appeared in the Spring 2019 issue of Pipes and tobaccos magazine.

– Story by Mark Irwin. Photos by Dirk Heinemann, except portraits of Heinemann by Andrew Parfenov.