Fred Carl was an unlikely candidate to launch a revolution in
high-end kitchen appliances. Working as a contractor in the small cotton farming
town of Greenwood, Miss., in the early 1980s, Carl wanted an impressive stove
for the new home he and his wife were building for themselves. Unable to find
exactly what he wanted, Carl designed and then custom-built an imposing,
stainless steel range to commercial cooking specifications. The iconic look and
superior performance of this single appliance inspired Carl to found Viking
Range in 1984, a company that would, in only a few years, set a new aesthetic
and technological standard for luxury kitchens. Today, from four factories in Greenwood, Viking produces
appliances that are sold in 80 countries. For his part, Carl is a wildly
successful business oddity. As other manufacturers send production offshore, he
remains convinced that only U.S. workers can achieve the level of quality he
demands. Speaking with Worth features editor Douglas McWhirter, Carl discussed Viking’s relationship
with its notoriously fickle clientele, the future of American manufacturing and
great things that come from small towns.
Viking caters to a very affluent customer base. When you founded
the company in 1984, did you satisfy an existing need or did you create your own
niche market? It was an unmet demand. Over a
period of time, ranges, or stoves, had become much more lightweight and flimsy.
I was building my own house at the time, and there were no big, substantial
stoves on the market like there had been in the past—Chambers, O’Keefe &
Merritt—big gleaming, porcelain-coated hunks of metal. The new ranges were
performing just fine, but they still lacked that presence. They also lacked
capacity: 30-inch ranges dominated; the ovens and the surface cooking area were
limited. The only alternative to that was the commercial restaurant range. That
is what caught my fancy. But most people do not just design their own
appliances. These commercial ranges were
beginning to show up in upscale homes, particularly in the homes of celebrities.
There were two brands: Wolf and Garland. They were being used in residential
kitchens even though commercial ranges were not designed or certified for that
kind of use. They are not insulated properly. A lot of people once described
them as "the furnace that cooks." Another problem with commercial ranges is that
their ovens do not broil. These are strictly for roasting and baking. I realized
this was not going to work, so I designed a range that takes the most desirable
features from the commercial models and incorporates the convenience, safety and
efficiency of a residential range. It was a hybrid that offered the best of both
worlds. I thought that there had to be a market for that. That was the business
concept right there. How did you get from that concept to being such a recognizable,
successful high-end brand in just a few years? We were very fortunate. I’m a
brand-conscious person. I have a marketing degree, and I know the power of a
brand. It was paramount to me from day one to make the brand the essence of the
company. We had to have a product to back it up and a distribution network—but
the brand had to be nurtured, cared for and enhanced, and it was a constant
process. In 1988, I hired a local ad agency, and they said over and
over, "It’s all about the brand, it’s all about the brand." In fact, I got sick
of hearing that. Yet, when you are trying to create a highly regarded brand, it
puts a lot of pressure on you. You’ve got to have all the other stuff to back it
up. That has motivated us to keep our product at the level of the brand.
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