“No Ordinary Pencil”

I have written a summary and posted it under the title “No Ordinary Pencil“. It will have a separate page and permanent link at the top of the menu. I still think of it as a work in progress and it will be updated from time to time, especially if I stumble upon something new. I’ve left out some details in order to keep the length manageable, but you can find further information in the related posts—I will be linking them soon. But for those interested in having everything in one place, that’s the place to start.

Historical information about the Blackwing is elusive though the extent of my searching hasn’t reached into things like corporate archives. As an ardent pencil user, I became very interested in the rise and decline of wood-case pencils: a story so rich, complex, and colorful that I may only ever know a small portion of it. And as much as this blog is specifically about one pencil, to me the Blackwing in a sense stands for all pencils that have come and gone. But my concern in having a blog so narrowly focused has been for it to be mistaken as fanatical and single-minded. To be honest, I thought just focusing on one pencil would make things a little easier (I was wrong about that). And in fact, the Blackwing isn’t my favorite pencil (though it’s certainly in the top 5). Instead, everything about the Blackwing just seemed very compelling, and given the pencil’s reputation I thought it would be worth trying to discover more about it. Combine that with the fact there were no other blogs—as far as I could tell—that focused solely on the Blackwing, and, here we are.

It seemed to me that while the Blackwing is more than 64 years old its discontinuation happened not so long ago. So rather than let it fade into history like so many others, why not try to gather what artifacts remain, as well as talk with the people who used them—famous or not. Shining a light on the history of the Blackwing has also helped illuminate more than six decades of writing culture for me, which has only heightened my curiosity and deepened my appreciation.

I owe a debt of gratitude to: Stephen, Gunther, Matthias, Michael, Adair, and Lisa for their help and support; the readers who have submitted sightings; and everyone who has commented or offered suggestions.

And, thanks to you—the readers.

All 40 to 50 of you.  :)

One Sharp Blackwing

This is one of the few factory-sharpened Blackwings I’ve seen. The point has the telltale striations that come from being run across a belted sandpaper sharpener. You can see one in action at the 8:40 mark in this video.

Why some were factory-sharpened and others weren’t is another one of those funny, hard-to-explain details. This version of the pencil was kind of transitional—it was the first with the new logo, but still had the shortened length of the earlier pencils. Furthermore, they were available un-sharpened as well. Perhaps pre-sharpening them was another element of change that was introduced, but for whatever reason was eventually dropped.

Blackwingerdämmerung

The twilight of the Blackwing has grown murky over the years. Even those with only a passing interest in the pencil are likely to have heard some version of the story, which usually centers around a machine breaking and that the company wouldn’t fix it. While the story does involve a broken machine, the end of the Blackwing 602 wasn’t brought about by this reason alone, it was precipitated by a confluence of mechanical, financial, and cultural circumstances.

Perhaps the most widely-read and frequently-cited article about the Blackwing’s demise was written by Doug Martin in 2004, called The Blackwing 602 – The Final Chapter. It is based on first-hand interviews conducted at the Sanford plant where the last Blackwing pencils were manufactured, and it remains the most detailed account available.

Specialized machinery was in fact required to manufacture the Blackwing’s extended ferrule and small metal crimp that held the eraser in place. But there’s more than just a ‘broken machine’ to this story, as Mr. Martin explains:

“It is true that the ferrule machine was broken, but it had been broken even before Sanford bought the company. A large stock of ferrules remained, and all Blackwing production drew parts from this stock. Those familiar with the Blackwing know of the small aluminum clip that secures the eraser in the ferrule. It was this small part that ran out of stock and prompted the discontinuation of Blackwing production.”

Of the Eberhard Faber pencils that were once fitted with this extended ferrule, the Blackwing was the last. It is understandable then if Sanford felt hesitant about repairing the machinery, but couldn’t they have simply given the Blackwing a new, standard-sized ferrule? It’s true that the extended ferrule is part of the Blackwing’s allure, but given a choice wouldn’t consumers would have preferred a new ferrule over the pencil being discontinued altogether?

This leads to another important factor, again quoting Mr. Martin:

“During the last years of production, the company made only about 1100 dozen Blackwings annually. The facility produces more pencils than that in a single hour! It was an economic decision based on low demand and the relatively high cost of repairs to the machinery that brought the end of the Blackwing.”

Were Blackwings just not selling well? I think it’s safe to assume the answer is ‘yes’, but with all the talk of this “legendary” pencil how was it that fewer than 1,100 boxes were being purchased by 1998? I’m curious if it wasn’t a combination of both supply and demand: was the Blackwing losing its audience, or was the audience losing places to buy the Blackwing? Probably a bit of both.

The waning of hand-drawn animation must have had an impact on sales. I don’t know for sure, but I wonder if animators weren’t the largest single consumers of Blackwing pencils at one point. Combine that with the cultural eschewing of writing by hand in general and its no wonder Sanford was unwilling to fix a machine specialized for a single pencil that was selling only 1,100 boxes per year, in a world that is turning its back on the writing pencil.

I wonder what impact each corporate sale (i.e. 1988 to Faber-Castell and 1994 to Sanford) had on production. When the new entity took over, did they automatically resume previous quotas, and was there ever a break in production? Did each sale prompt an audit of the product line resulting in adjusted production? What I would like to know is how invested Sanford really was in wood-case pencil production vis-à-vis their Eberhard Faber acquisitions in general, because the Blackwing wasn’t the only one to fall (but it was the only one that had the special ferrule). Was the Blackwing a victim of its own uniqueness, or was Sanford just cleaning house?

Musical Barber-ism

Another photograph of Samuel Barber, Blackwing 602 in-hand.

Here is a link to a program from the WPR show To the Best of Our Knowledge, which addresses why it is we seem to love sad music. Featured in the segment is Barber’s Adagio for Strings.

While I can understand and appreciate the author’s sentiment, that Barber’s Adagio is the “saddest music ever written”, I think attempting to affix such a designation only serves to harm: music’s capacity to convey emotion is only limited when such an artificial boundary is imposed upon it. My feeling has always been that music and the rest of the arts in general are resistant to qualifiers such as “best” or “worst” etc. If such a thing as “best” (or any superlative) exists in music aesthetics, that means an immediate and irrevocable limit is in place from the start: as a performer then I’m either consigned to know there is a “best” performance that I haven’t reached, or if I do, it suggests there is nothing more that can be learned from that piece.

Music isn’t compatible with finding limits, superlatives, or absolutes with regard to aesthetics and even if it were, there’s little to be gained in finding them. And to argue such designations is rarely about the music—it’s usually more about the person doing the arguing.

 To suggest that there is some ostensible end to be reached anywhere in music is, I think, to incalculably miss the point.   

Nelson Riddle with Peggy Lee

© EMI Music

Nelson Riddle has already been listed here as being a Blackwing user, but this relatively new photo (with Blackwing in tow) bears mentioning him again. Among well-known Blackwing users Riddle was one of the few who went so far as to mention the 602 as being one of his favorite tools. From Arranged by Nelson Riddle (Alfred Music Publishing, 1985):

Pencils should be of very soft lead, so that a minimum of pressure is needed to convey the marks to the paper, but the lead should be dense enough to be able to carry a sharp point, since clarity is essential. My favorite pencil is the Blackwing #602, by Eberhard Faber, but there may be many brands equal or superior to the Blackwing.

I wonder if Eberhard Faber ever took notice when such endorsements were made, especially since it may have translated into actual sales given Nelson Riddle’s notoriety and popularity.  Let’s hope they at least sent him a few “thank you” boxes.