Smoking has been prohibited since 2011 at Florida International University. But the ban doesn’t preclude patrons from enjoying its new exhibit at the Wolfsonian-FIU museum and research center, “Smoke Signals: Cigar Cutters and Masculine Values,” although it may lead directly to an interest in firing up.
The display includes 141 vintage cutters, distinctive at first glance based on age, dating to the late 19th century and running through the 1940s. But the exhibit also commands attention for the artisanship of the accessories made in the days when cigars were ubiquitous, a pre-cigarette era of gentlemanly indulgence in a great pleasure.
We enjoy a good cutter today much as the old timers did, but it seemed so much cooler, even regal, back then.
“It’s like this one particular object, a cigar cutter, is a lens into this specific moment in time,” says Lea Nickless, curator at the Wolfsonian-FIU. “It’s a look at what male aspirations, focuses and hobbies were in those times. “
The exhibit, which runs through September 29, comes from a trove of 361 cigar cutters donated in 2021 by Miami collector Richard Kronenberg.
The collection included cutters gathered by Kronenberg starting in the 1960s when he lived in New York City, shortly before he moved to South Florida. The collection includes both figural and utilitarian cutters; the older the cutter, the more likely it is to be ornamental and/or themed.
“My wife and I were in an antique store on Second Avenue in New York and I saw this little disc,” Kronenberg, 82 years old, says. “The guy in the store didn’t know what it was, but it was a sterling silver cigar cutter that a man would wear on a watch chain, made by Asprey in London.”
A cigar smoker himself, Kronenberg bought the little cutter and “I kept going.”
“It really snowballed, and with the advent of the internet, you could do business with people all over the world,” he says, as he spent anywhere from $20 to $5,000 for a cutter.
His collection became as much a passionate pursuit as a hobby, and Kronenberg began to meet fellow cutter fans from all over the world. He struck up a friendship with a collector in Berlin, among other locations.
“I dealt with this guy for years and we finally met when I went to Berlin on a trip, and it was like meeting an old friend.”
His collection recalls a time when some of the best cutlery – and cutters – in the world was produced in Solingen, Germany, referred to sometimes as “the city of blades.”
The blades were produced in Germany, and other places – New York, Vienna – produced the handles or casings. It was from that stage that the collectible element entered the cutter world; fabric, stone and other case work was produced by jewelers and craftsmen to form a cutter that anyone would be proud to carry.
A devoted cigar smoker would have several cutters for various uses. There would be the desk model, serving as both an accessory and an ornament, and there would be something for the pocket chain, something for the home and wherever else the smoking would commence in the days when smoking wasn’t an act of rebellion.
Nickless, a cigar neophyte, was given the task of assembling the display. She’d never smoked a cigar and “I don’t think I had ever touched a cigar cutter before this opportunity.”
Her research included speaking with other cutter collectors and a German museum with accessories in its portfolio, as well as a deep dive into documented history of the old days of the cigar.
“Even when the price of cigars came down, when cigarettes became more popular after World War I and the inclusion of cigarettes in soldier rations, cigars were still marketed as an act of distinction,” she says. “It was always linked to this idea of elite sophistication. Cigars were marketed as a mark of distinction. Smoking cigars was a more glamorous ritual that men bonded over and did business networking over.”
Cutters today remain an extravagance although they tilt more toward the utilitarian as lighters have become the beacons of ornamental cigar smoking.
“In the late 1800s and early 1900s, cutters were made by goldsmiths and silversmiths,” Kronenberg says. “They came from this country and from England, then morphed into Germany and Austria, done by artisans. Today, these are all utilitarian cutters, some very nice, done by places like Cartier or Dupont. They are not as inventive or diverse or interesting as the earlier ones, but they can be quite beautiful.”
A top cutter can still command a hefty price but even the best of the luxury accessory producers come in at an average of around $200 for a first-rate cutter.
The Wolfsonian display features majestic works that would fetch a hefty fee on the open collector market, where a quick glance finds a 1930s airplane model cutter for $7,800.
Kronenberg’s donation could not all be displayed, so a digital presentation cycling images of the other cutters is also part of the installation. It also includes cigar paraphernalia that was previously donated from other sources including marketing posters, point-of-sale cards and other ephemera.
“We also have a cigar dispenser that would have been sitting on a countertop in a shop, where you can put a nickel in and it would dispense a cigar,” Nickless says.
She found herself connected to the age when cigars were as much a part of men’s social activities as golf is today.
“This one particular object is a lens into this specific moment in time,” Nickless says. “At the turn of the century, 90 percent of men were smoking a cigar at least once a week. And it was always linked to his idea of a celebration, and cigarettes never could replace the social complexity that went around the cigar.”
Today, lounges are havens for the ostracized, folks who enjoy tobacco that is generally hand produced and often hand rolled.
“The lounge is a vestige of what was going on in the golden era of cigar smoking in the mid to late 19th century,” Nickless says.
The cutter collection took up drawers and spaces in Kronenberg’s dwelling and he’s pleased to have given it a good home.
“It’s a great fit, they have an art history department and were thrilled to have it and I was thrilled,” he says. “The collecting was done and it was time to let other people enjoy it.”
In a press release for the showing, Wolfsonian Director Casey Steadman said, “You do not need to be a cigar enthusiast to appreciate the stories about the broader social and cultural world that this collection allows the museum to tell.”
Rightly stated. But those stories will no doubt conjure that pleasing beckon to light one up.