John Penhallow, Columnist10.20.23
Clive Smith grew up in Bickley, now an outer suburb of London. He was second in his family, with two brothers and one sister, his father being a former Royal Air Force officer.
Clive had an aptitude for sports, but academically his school career was undistinguished, and he worked for several companies before joining, in a very junior role, an exhibition organizer.
He set up own business in the late 1970s, working out of his home. His office was a glass veranda, freezing in the winter, boiling in the summer, so he moved to a large caravan at the bottom of his garden, from which vantage point the first Brussels label show was launched in 1985, with a little help from his old schoolmate John Penhallow, and his colleagues Paul Farrant and Brenda Crookshank.
From the start, the shows were sponsored by Labels & Labeling under its editor Mike Fairley. Trade association FINAT was also an early supporter. Labelexpo Europe took off, despite being housed in a loosely converted Brussels carpark, and soon moved to the Parc des Expositions, where it has remained until this year.
In 1990, Clive signed an agreement with TLMI to exclusively support Labelexpo Americas, with the first show taking place at the Rosemont Center in Chicago, IL. In 1991 the first Labelexpo Asia show took place at the World Trade Centre in Singapore, with further shows in China and Mexico. The business never looked back, and in 1998 Clive sold out his majority holding. He continued to take an active interest in the shows.
Clive’s business acumen (which did not come from a business education) consisted in leaving well alone when things were going well, and intervening decisively only when there was a crisis. In both his business and personal life he was equable and generally easy going. He was fair in his treatment of staff and generous and attentive to his family. He had a ready, and often malicious wit.
As for his leisure life, he played golf reasonably well, and tennis, well, reasonably. He enjoyed business travel, so long (as he said) that he went to countries where the taxi drivers spoke English.
This is no time to think of any faults, but one must be mentioned: his total inability to sing: he was afflicted, so he said, with Van Gogh's ear for music.
In retirement he bought and lived in a farm in one of the loveliest, but loneliest parts of South-West England.
Our condolences go to his wife, his children and grandchildren.
Clive had an aptitude for sports, but academically his school career was undistinguished, and he worked for several companies before joining, in a very junior role, an exhibition organizer.
He set up own business in the late 1970s, working out of his home. His office was a glass veranda, freezing in the winter, boiling in the summer, so he moved to a large caravan at the bottom of his garden, from which vantage point the first Brussels label show was launched in 1985, with a little help from his old schoolmate John Penhallow, and his colleagues Paul Farrant and Brenda Crookshank.
From the start, the shows were sponsored by Labels & Labeling under its editor Mike Fairley. Trade association FINAT was also an early supporter. Labelexpo Europe took off, despite being housed in a loosely converted Brussels carpark, and soon moved to the Parc des Expositions, where it has remained until this year.
In 1990, Clive signed an agreement with TLMI to exclusively support Labelexpo Americas, with the first show taking place at the Rosemont Center in Chicago, IL. In 1991 the first Labelexpo Asia show took place at the World Trade Centre in Singapore, with further shows in China and Mexico. The business never looked back, and in 1998 Clive sold out his majority holding. He continued to take an active interest in the shows.
Clive’s business acumen (which did not come from a business education) consisted in leaving well alone when things were going well, and intervening decisively only when there was a crisis. In both his business and personal life he was equable and generally easy going. He was fair in his treatment of staff and generous and attentive to his family. He had a ready, and often malicious wit.
As for his leisure life, he played golf reasonably well, and tennis, well, reasonably. He enjoyed business travel, so long (as he said) that he went to countries where the taxi drivers spoke English.
This is no time to think of any faults, but one must be mentioned: his total inability to sing: he was afflicted, so he said, with Van Gogh's ear for music.
In retirement he bought and lived in a farm in one of the loveliest, but loneliest parts of South-West England.
Our condolences go to his wife, his children and grandchildren.