Burt Shavitz on his property in Parkman, Maine, in the spring of 2014.Robert F. Bukaty/The Associated Press
Burt Shavitz, the reclusive beekeeper who co-founded Burt's Bees, and whose face and wild beard appeared on labels for the line of natural cosmetics sold around the world, has died at the age of 80.
A spokeswoman for Burt's Bees said in statement that Mr. Shavitz died July 5 of respiratory complications in Bangor, Me., surrounded by family and friends.
Mr. Shavitz, whom the company described as "a wild-bearded and free-spirited Maine man," was a hippie making a living by selling honey when his life was altered by a chance encounter with a hitchhiking Roxanne Quimby. She was a single mother and a back-to-the-lander who impressed Mr. Shavitz with her ingenuity and self-sufficiency.
In the 1980s, Ms. Quimby began making products from his beeswax, and they became partners. The pair started off with candles, reportedly making about $20,000 (U.S.) in their first year of business. Later, they developed the lip balm that exploded the company's popularity and remains its best-selling item, said the company, which also makes soaps, lotions and products for hair care and babies.
"Burt was an enigma; my mentor and my muse. I am deeply saddened," Ms. Quimby said in an e-mailed statement to The Associated Press.
Their business partnership ended after Ms. Quimby moved the company to North Carolina in 1994. The company continued to expand, but Mr. Shavitz moved back to Maine. He had said he was forced out after having an affair with an employee. In 2003, Ms. Quimby sold 80 per cent of Burt's Bees to an equity firm; in 2007, California-based Clorox Co. purchased Burt's Bees for $925-million.
Mr. Shavitz received an undisclosed settlement – along with 37 acres in remote corner of Maine. He also continued to make appearances on behalf of the company.
"What I have in this situation is no regret," he said last year while sitting in a rocking chair in his home in Parkman, Me. "The bottom line is, [Ms. Quimby] has her world and I've got mine, and we let it go at that."
The man who would become known for being an eccentric character from the backwoods of Maine was born Ingram Berg Shavitz on May 15, 1935, in Manhattan. He grew up around New York and served in the U.S. Army in Germany. Back in New York, he worked as a photographer for Time-Life before leaving the city for rural life. He tried to leave Maine once before the move to North Carolina, spending a winter on a warm island, but was drawn back to the state, which he had first visited as a child with his parents.
"There were all these lakes, ponds and streams, and zero restrictions. I promised myself that one day I was going to come back. That's what I did," Mr. Shavitz recalled last year in an interview with The New York Times.
Mr. Shavitz was the subject of a documentary film by Canadian director Jody Shapiro, Burt's Buzz, which had its premiere at the 2013 Toronto International Film Festival.
"The documentary … opens in Taipei airport, where a septuagenarian beekeeper from Maine is greeted like a rock star by a crowd of screaming Taiwanese youth, including several women dressed in yellow-and-black bee outfits," wrote Globe and Mail reviewer Kate Taylor.
"But slowly, very slowly – Shavitz ambles through life, and Shapiro takes his cues from his subject – Burt's Buzz reveals a darker side to this story as the film uncovers a loner who dislikes his fame yet relies on it to make an income from a brand over which he has long since lost control. ... He is a solitary figure who cares more for his land than the business, and more for his faithful dogs than unreliable people," Ms. Taylor said.
In recent years, Mr. Shavitz lived in a cluttered house with no running water. A converted turkey coop that used to be his home remained on his property. He liked to pass the time by watching wildlife.
In the interview with the Times, Mr. Shavitz summed up his simple lifestyle, saying: "I've got 40 acres. And it's good and sufficient and it takes good care of me. There's no noise. There's no children screaming. There's no people getting up at 5 o'clock in the morning and trying to start their car … Everybody has their own idea of what a good place to be is, and this is mine."
With files from Reuters