There have been many versions of this page and perhaps there will be more, but for now this is the final version and I am sticking to it.
My name is Jan Pietenpauw Von Melchior Frick Smith, which, unfortunately, is not true, for my mother decreed that I be called Jean Christophe and my father, being of distant French decent, passed on Du Toit as a surname.
So why Jan Pietenpauw? Well, because all the hilarious, yet sonorous, names like Baldasarre Galuppi or Ermano Wolf-Ferarri or Heitor Villa-Lobos were taken and yes, in case you were wondering, I listen to classical music. Ah, but a rose by any other name …
I was born in 1953 in a little country town, Carolina, in what is now known as Mpumalanga – literally “The place where the sun comes out”. So, I guess, the day I was born, the sun came out and, as was the case with Benvenuto Cellini, the world cried, “Welcome!”
Ever since I can remember, I have manufactured things. Cars, boats, airplanes (models that is, some working some not) turntables, amplifiers, speakers (all working) I even made an umbrella once. My grade 4 piano exam was played with plasters on quite a few of my fingers, because the day before the exam, I decided to carve an eagle atop a walking stick. Jack of all trades? Perhaps, but sometimes I got it right.
Lin Yutang’s advice to women was, “Marry a pipe smoker, for a man with a pipe can never shout at you, lest it falls out of his mouth”. And, not wishing to disagree with Lin Yutang, I started smoking at the world-wise age of seventeen. Obviously I had to “manufacture” my own pipe. Plaster of Paris, clay, reed, a ball-point pen and a broom handle, these were my materials. Some smoked, some did not. Some stank and some made me sick, but I persevered and here I am, after all these years, still smoking. I fondly remember the first decent pipe that I carved from a cherry wood branch with a pen-knife, sandpaper and an electric drill. My uncle was a cherry farmer in the district of Clocolan, so the favour was asked of my cousin to obtain a suitable branch. Although he never told me, I shudder to think that perhaps a cherry tree was cut down for said suitable branch.
In April of 2009 I decided to see if I could carve a “proper” pipe and when, to may amazement, I found that I could, I thought of offering some for sale. I was flabbergasted when they sold – in fact, faster than I could carve them – so I kept on carving and offering them for sale. I have many return customers and many have said that my pipes are good smokers, so I guess I am doing something right.
I am self-taught, although with YouTube and the internet, nobody can really claim that to be entirely true. I am mostly drawn to the classic English shapes, because, I think, they are drawn to me. If I were to carve only straight billiards – and someday I will carve the perfect straight billiard – I would be happy, but man cannot live by billiard alone. I strive to improve my skills with every pipe I carve and, although my eyesight is not what it used to be and my hands hurt and my legs cramp, it is only logical that they (pipes and skills) must get better.