A life in crystal: Pepi Herrmann retires

GILFORD — It’s a pedestrian thing, glass. Chances are, those reading this article have at least one piece of glass within arm’s reach. In the right hands, though, it can transform into something sparkling, brilliant and unlike anything else.

For 48 years, that transformation was happening in Gilford, in the shop run by Pepi Herrmann and his wife Katherina. That shop closed at the end of June, and with it, so ended the career of one of this country’s last and best glass cutters.

Herrmann, 83, has lived the life of a dedicated craftsperson, spending at least some of each day since 1974 in his shop, creating crystal for clients both near and far, pieces that grace the homes of both regular people and celebrities known around the world. Now, he’s traded that life for one of travel, pickleball and grandchildren.

“It feels tremendous good,” Herrmann said about his retirement. Though he said it has taken some getting used to, “I still want to do some things which I wouldn’t be able to do if I still work.”

Herrmann was born in Salzburg, Austria, and grew up in the city of Worgl, in the state of Tirol. Other than crystal cutting, the other activity that features prominently in Herrmann’s life story is carving slopes. He met his wife in the Alps — he liked her, she liked his dog, so they came to a mutually agreeable deal — and it was skiing that brought him to the United States.

More specifically, it was Gilford’s most decorated skier, he explained.

“I was invited by Penny Pitou, and her husband Egon Zimmerman. They invited me to come to Gunstock as a ski instructor,” Herrmann said. Pitou, who in 1960 became the first American to win an Olympic medal in downhill skiing, was and remains a champion of her local ski mountain. He spent a couple of years split between the Alps and the Appalachians, then with a sponsorship from Gilford business leader Milo Pike he was able to stay in Gilford.

It was 1968 when Herrmann first came to the Lakes Region. Four years later, he and Katherina got married at Gunstock, and two years after that he switched from skiing to what he was meant to do, cutting glass.

“Crystal was always my job, my profession,” Herrmann said. He had studied the craft in Austria, at an art school where he also got an education in painting, history and foreign languages, and he saw an opportunity to apply his skills in his new home.

There was a problem, though. While crystal was still a living art form in Europe, it had long died out in the United States. The era of fine glass cutting ended domestically in 1918. “I had to revive the art of crystal in this country,” he said. And, he found, developing a market for his product was just one of the challenges he would have to face in those early years.

“In the beginning, we had very little clue of running a business in this country, but we learned. Trial and error. I think I accumulated quite a nice clientele, and repeating customers. I had some customers for 30, 40 years,” he said.

With Katherina running the store, and Pepi cutting glass in the back, they slowly built a name for themselves locally. Their prominence spread nationwide with an investigation into a fraud involving crystal.

Herrmann was asked by an antiques dealer in Kansas City to examine a piece that had supposedly come from the golden era of American crystal, prior to 1918. Not so, Herrmann concluded.

Back then, glass cutting was done first with iron wheels, then finish cut with stone wheels, then polished. A close examination with Herrmann’s discerning eye saw the marks of a more modern technique. “That one is recently cut, with diamond wheels, which is done faster and leaves a different signature on the glass,” he said.

Herrmann had answered one question but invited another. With so few people on this side of the world making crystal, was he responsible for the fraud? The American Cut Glass Association sent a contingent to surreptitiously visit his shop, under the guise of regular customers. They came away with two conclusions: Pepi hadn’t made the phony antique, and; his crystal was among the best currently being made.

With his standing affirmed among the association, he began to get some special orders. One collector, from Florida, sent him images of a punch bowl he wanted to replicate, and ornate bowl featuring a hobstar with 64 points. Herrmann had never done such a star before, but he figured, if 64 points were possible, so could be 65. So he filled the order with an extra point thrown in for good measure.

“It went around the American Cut Glass Association, I got a ton of orders,” Herrmann said. One over-the-top order was for a 16-inch bowl, with an outer layer of blue glass, and a total of seven stars, each with 65 points. That bowl ended up in the Corning Museum of Glass, in New York, and later sold for $24,000, a good bit more than Herrmann initially charged.

Herrmann’s crystals have been used for many sporting trophies, including for the winners of NASCAR events at the New Hampshire Motor Speedway in Loudon, and for the Volvo International Tennis Tournament that was held for many years in North Conway.

“[Andre] Agassi, [John] McEnroe, Boris Becker, Jimmy Connors, many famous tennis players, and I was lucky enough to meet them all,” Herrmann said.

Those trophies, as well as the pieces gracing mantles and display cases in many homes in the Lakes Region, are now a little more special, because no more will be made and signed by Pepi Herrmann.

“I’m very grateful, for 48 years,” Herrmann said. Even though his shop has closed, he has continued to hear from people about the special place his crystal has held in their home, and how now those pieces are being passed from one generation to the next. “That makes me feel good.”