Knifemaker Interview Series, a biography workshop

[tsterling]

Hi Jaques,

 

Thanks for the kind words. Petr's little knife is one of my favorites, and speaks to me on many levels. I keep a picture of it nearby, and intend to make one like it for myself one day - although, I suppose knifemakers are like the shoemakers kids, who always go barefoot!

 

Both Petr and Serge are makers who I regularly get a good bit of inspiration from. Allthough I'm not a big fan of saxes, Petr's work is always attractive, and I love the combinations of materials he uses, and his carving really enhances the overall feel of the piece. Serge's work also uses interesting and attractive combinations, and his innovative shapes are always attractive and well thought out. Both have developed what one could say is their own "style." I have no doubt that in the future we're going to see knives made by other makers in "Serge style" and "Petr style," much as we see "Scagel style" or "Loveless style" today.

 

Tom

Edited January 23, 2011 by tsterling

[Serge Panchenko]

Thanks for the replies amd compliments Tom:) A another question for you:

 

Tell us a little about the :Reliquary" and "Icons Of Power" pieces, and how they came about. One of my favorite pieces of yours is the "Reliquary for the Four Elements", I would love to hear some info/background on this amazing piece (pics from your website):

[tsterling]

Tell us a little about the :Reliquary" and "Icons Of Power" pieces, and how they came about. One of my favorite pieces of yours is the "Reliquary for the Four Elements", I would love to hear some info/background on this amazing piece (pics from your website):

 

Well, let's see – this was one of those cases I mentioned before where several events occurred and everything came together. It started with a PBS program about the Longinus Lance, or Spear of Destiny.

 

This thing was just so cool in its' construction that I had one of those “eureka” moments. Unfortunately, it was well beyond my capability to construct something like it (and probably still is). At the same time I was also interested in medieval reliquaries (highly decorated and precious religious containers for saints bones and relics) and was exploring them on the internet. As if the planets aligned, I stumbled across a jewelry artist, Richard Salley, who was making really cool pendants out of junk objects and constructed elements from common hardware, and he had a short tutorial on the techniques on his web site.

 

Here's a link to Richard Salley's website, be sure to check out his tutorial: Richard Salley

 

So, suddenly, I had the interest, the inspiration, and a bit of guidance on the “how.” So things just got sort of mixed up in my head, a bit of fantasy was added (Lord of the Rings was still going on!), I was reminded of a netsuke Sue Wraight had carved in the mid 1980s of a basilisk, which is a rooster/snake combination born from a rooster's egg, and this weird little thing came together. Add in some Viking runes for earth, air, water, fire, and a quote from King Lear, and there you have the entire story. Another month of sketches and a hell of a lot of thought, some practice engraving (did I mention I was beginning to engrave about this time, and had been carving some bird skulls in antler that proved to be economically popular?), a month of carving, construction and the occasional false start, a span of twenty-plus years of wool gathering thoughts and experience, and, voila! Did I mention before that the inspiration/planning is the hardest part?

 

It's made from a large steel washer, lots of copper, silver rivets, amber (the basilisk eye, a netsuke carving technique), and moose antler. This was one of the things that really showed me how dark steel and antiqued copper really complimented each other. You may have noticed how most of what I make is designed to look old and worn (kind of like me!), and often contain fake repairs.

 

A few other do-dads of similar ilk from about the same time frame:

 

And a recent reliquary-related knife, the "8th Plague Knife"

[Jacques Delfosse]

Many thanks for your answer, Tom !

They will sure also make pieces "the Stirling way" in the future...

Congrats !

[tsterling]

Thanks, Jacques, glad you're enjoying this! It's really forcing me to do a little introspection to answer these questions...

[Jake Powning]

this is wonderful, your work is really inspiring Tom. I love how you push the boundaries!

[tsterling]

I love how you push the boundaries!

 

Boundaries? What boundaries?

 

Glad your'e enjoying this, Jake!

[Serge Panchenko]

Awesome info Tom, and thanks for the link to Richard Salley's website, very cool and interesting. A couple more questions:

 

How long do you spend on your knife projects, do you work a little at a time or spend a whole day working non-stop?

 

What are your plans for the future? Any particular skill you are trying to develop?

Edited January 26, 2011 by Serge Panchenko

[tsterling]

How long do you spend on your knife projects, do you work a little at a time or spend a whole day working non-stop?

 

That's the question I get the most - how long does it take? A typical art knife takes about a week of physical work (as in 6-7 eight hour days), not including thinking about it and designing on paper/computer. Thinking/planning may take weeks or even months to complete. I'm seldom able to spend all of that time in one sequence, and a typical day for me is about four hours of physical work, and the remainder of the day filled with planning-type tasks. Of course, as we all know, there are vinegar soaks, epoxy curing, tempering, etc. that interrupt the flow.

 

Ideally, I like to have several projects going at once. I find if I have to work on just one, that sometimes it feels a bit stale, and I like to be able to switch off to another piece when that happens. Then again, there is the occasional bit of art that just catches fire and I work almost non-stop at it. Those are the ones that I live for!

[tsterling]

What are your plans for the future? Any particular skill you are trying to develop?

 

What will the future bring? I surely don't know - I once told one of my netsuke collectors who was trying to convince me to work in metal, that I wasn't interested and couldn't see myself as a metal junkie. Now, here I am, and it's a passion. I learned to "never say never" from that...

 

I'm currently trying to learn to engrave, and attended a really excellent course this summer with Ray Cover, one of the top engravers in the US. That really helped me get over a hump in learning to engrave, and now there's lots of practice to help me improve. Japanese art has been a large influence on my work, and I'm also investigating Japanese-style metalwork methods. In that vein, I'll announce here that our next interview victim will be Ford Hallam, and we'll explore the avenue of his approach to Japanese art metalworking!

 

Here's a knife I just completed using the skills I learned from Ray, including my first gold inlay. An awful lot of engraving for a little two inch knife!

 

[Serge Panchenko]

Awesome Bluegill Tom!!! Amazing detail on this one. Thanks so much for all the answers, I have a much better idea of how your art pieces come to be and your process. If any one else has any questions please post. Tom, thank you!!

[Dick Sexstone]

Tom

you have told us a little about making and designing your work .. can you tell us some about how and where you have sold it . what was the easiest sell ?and what took the longest..

 

Do you work with a customer in mind or just make what you like and then worry about who gets it?Little bit of both? which do you prefer?

 

I have really enjoyed you interview....

 

Dick

[tsterling]

Tom

you have told us a little about making and designing your work .. can you tell us some about how and where you have sold it . what was the easiest sell ?and what took the longest..

 

Do you work with a customer in mind or just make what you like and then worry about who gets it?Little bit of both? which do you prefer?

 

I have really enjoyed you interview....

 

Dick

 

Hi Dick,

 

I've gone walkabout for a week and all I have is my iPhone - I'll have to answer your questions when I get back! Sorry, mea culpa....

[tsterling]

OK, I'm finally back from walkabout to an engraver's convention in Reno, where I saw some incredible engraving (mostly on guns) and a few knives. Really enjoyable, although the slot machines saw me coming....

 

To answer Dick's questions - Can you tell us some about how and where you have sold your knives. what was the easiest sell? and what took the longest..

 

Currently, almost all of my work is sold through www.bladegallery.com, mostly through their web site, with a few sales through their attractive physical gallery in Kirkland, WA (the Epicurean Edge) to walk-in customers. A few inexpensive items also go through a small cooperative gallery in Coupeville WA, where I live.

 

Some of my work seems to get snapped up in a few hours to a few days. I keep records of when an item goes up on the website and when it sells, and periodically analyze the results to keep my sales practices sane. Generally I find the easiest things to sell are knives that have a unique and striking look to them, that stand out from the other more “normal” looking knives. It really helps to have a knife that catches the viewer's eye in some way, either in shape or color. When you think about it, a prospective client surfing through a lot of knives shown in small thumbnail images has a difficult task, and if you can catch his eye quickly, you're ahead of the game. Of course, to state the obvious, price plays a very large role. I depend a lot on the guys and gals at bladegallery.com to keep me grounded on price. I'd like to be able to charge an hourly rate for a knife, where pricing would simply result from multiplying the number of hours of work times the shop rate and add in materials, but that seldom works.

 

Here's one that just left bladegallery.com almost immediately, the Carpenter Ants Dagger. It has an unusual shape, eye-catching color contrasts, and shows up well in a small thumbnail image. Did I mention the bladegallery folks also do incredible knife photography?

 

What takes the longest? Usually the ones where I think “this one will move really quickly!” Forums like this one help with feedback, because sometimes the ones I really love aren't always the ones others are attracted to. Maybe I have lousy taste in knives?......

 

Also, there are communities within the edged weapon world that have rules or expectations that you must meet to be successful. Two that come to mind are the Japanese-style (Nihonto) and primitive or reenactor world. As an example, I made a small kiridashi-style knife with engraved copper scales, but rather than a single beveled edge, I “Americanized” it with a standard western-style grind with centered edge. As a former wood carver, I've never liked the Japanese-style single beveled edge since it takes a left-hand and right-hand version of a blade shape to actually carve a piece of wood, ivory or antler. I took a bit of criticism for the double bevel since it wasn't what Japanese-style knife collectors expected. The customer is always right!

 

Do you work with a customer in mind or just make what you like and then worry about who gets it?Little bit of both? which do you prefer?

 

I seldom take commissions. Once in a great while I take one that seems to be a good idea, but invariably I begin to remember why I seldom take commissions. I find if I'm doing a commission, the work actually becomes work. I don't feel like I'm in charge with a commission; I'm guessing that's because I'm not! I enjoy making knives the most when I'm working on something that I want to work on. It's also much easier to give my best efforts when I'm working on something for me.

 

One other little thing about commissions – they often either require a model or extensive drawings of the thing you're supposed to make for the client's approval. Otherwise it's very difficult to effectively communicate what the customer's expectations are. Once I've made the model or the extensive drawings, I feel like I've already done the work. The thing I avoid at all costs is making TWO of the same thing – I really hate doing that. I once assemble six chairs to go with a table I made. Loved making the table, the six chairs were a never ending nightmare. I was once asked how much it would cost for me to carve a subject. I quoted a price of $500. Then the prospective client asked how much for TWO? I quoted a price of $1500. Needless to say, I didn't get the job............

 

Thus endeth the rant......

Edited February 3, 2011 by tsterling

[tsterling]

Well, I guess it’s time to introduce Ford Hallam, an extraordinary metal artist and great personal inspiration. He’s kindly agreed to be the next victim.

 

I first heard of him way back in my netsuke carving days, but never had any extensive exposure to his work until I switched to metalworking. Now, he is the owner/manager of http://followingtheironbrush.org, where you can see and learn about art metalworking, mostly Japanese-style, but with a fair amount of really excellent contemporary work thrown in. Stop by, you won’t regret it.

 

I’ll let Ford’s work speak for itself – these are a couple of my favorites.

 

 

You can see much of Ford’s construction techniques for the tiger tsuba and thought process in the following YouTube videos, about thirty minutes in total, and very well worth the watching.

 

So, with this briefest of intros, let’s get down to torturing the victim....

 

Welcome, Ford - for the start of this, can you tell us a little about yourself, and how you got into Japanese-style metalworking?

[ford hallam]

Hi Tom, Gentlemen

 

Thanks for inviting me over. I feel a little out of place, not being a blade basher but I hope I can add a little something to this particular field of creating in metal.

 

Right, a bit about me. I'm 48 this year and have been a professional craftsman all my adult life. I grew up in apartheid era South Africa, an experience which has left my brothers and I with quite strong anti-authoritarian feelings and instinctive contrarian attitudes.

 

I left high school, disregarded my fathers plans for me to study law, and went to art school for a year (working a 40 hour week as barman to support myself). I'd begun jewellery classes while in my last year of school, thought it was a good way to impress the ladies ( I was right ) and wanted to continue with this. The year at art school left me frustrated at the lack of technical training so the following year I embarked on a 5 year, old style, apprenticeship as a goldsmith.

 

It was actually while at art school, in 1980, that I first became aware of the Japanese tradition and the following year when I started my apprenticeship in Cape Town I was able regularly to study a small collection of tsuba that were exhibited in a museum nearby. These were all pierced and carved steel guards and the labels described them as "chiselled steel". To this day this phrase rings with some sort of enticing promise...at the time it seemed madness! The idea of working into metal like that seemed utterly magical.

 

I knew then that this is what I wanted to master but I also realised it would take a while to get to someone who could teach me so I buckled down and devoted myself to mastering the craft I was engaged in while recognising this would form the foundation of what I ultimately wanted. The rest, as they say, is history. The details are outlined in my bio on my website here if anyone's interested to read more on that aspect of things.

 

I remember one day, about halfway though my training, becoming impatient and really wanting to go to Japan as soon as possible, so I went to the Japanese Embassy to see what possibilities there might be. I met with an elderly Englishwoman ( a very genteel lady) who was extremely kind and helpful and who, when learning of my desire to study a traditional Japanese craft, was very sympathetic and went to great lengths to explain how, as a foreigner, I'd never be accepted and that I would have to practically be born into a craft family. I reckon that sort of impossible challenge was what really settled it for me.

 

I should add that at that time I was also avidly training in the martial arts ( Goju Ryu karate) and studying associated philosophies and meditation and really immersing myself in the bigger cultural picture through books and study. I think that at the time I imagined I might "invent" some sort of idealised and romantic way of life/adventure. It may well have worked out that way.

Edited February 10, 2011 by ford hallam

[Christopher Price]

At the risk of interrupting, this...

 

 

 

 

Is one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

 

Please continue, sir.

[tsterling]

Thanks for stepping up to this, Ford! A very insightful answer - shall we say it explains a lot?

 

I see you've made a new convert in Chris Price! I'm not at all surprised, the tiger tsuba bumped several other pieces of your work out of the running for my favorite, as well. Your work just seems to get better and better...

 

I know from my own work that much is influenced by my past associations, strange as those might be...

 

Tell us, if you would, how your professional work with Japanese antiques and Japanese history colors your choices of what you make, particularly in those pieces that are not commissions - that you choose to make strictly at your own whim. Does it provide any advantage, other than perhaps the initial exposure or inspiration?

[ford hallam]

Sorry for the delay in replying....yesterday was a bit busy in the studio.

 

This is an question I often ask myself. My initial work as a restorer, in London, was almost exclusively with Meiji period work. I was remarkably fortunate to be entrusted with some of the finest pieces that were made from that period (1868-1912). I was always hugely impressed with the technical perfection that seemed to almost be a given but what is often misunderstood about many of these these pieces, that were made for the foreign market, is that they generally didn't have any genuine aesthetic connection with the metalwork that was previously made for the Japanese market.

 

Of course there are fine examples of traditional taste that made their way into Western collections but the overall conception was to make goods that would appeal to Victorian taste, ie; quite flashy and ornate. While I still have huge respect for the technical accomplishments of these artists I found the actual art to be a bit "over the top" for my own taste....I suspect they may well have felt the same though.

 

From our perspective today it may seem strange to see how these amazing artists all but abandoned their own artistic sensibilities and attempted to adapt to their perception of foreign taste but at the time Japan was suffering a very real crisis of confidence and was being thrust rapidly into a technologically superior world with the regrettable result that much the "old ways" were considered worthless.

 

My own response to this crisis, this need to take a 1000 year old tradition and try to find some contemporary relevance as an artistic expression, has been very much shaped by what I think was a "less than successful" (I'm trying to be polite and respectful) approach when Japan first engaged with the modern world.

 

Coming from the outside I've always felt it essential to immerse myself totally in the entirety of the Japanese tradition. I needed to do this so that I might have a chance of getting a real sense of what the guiding spirit might have been....and could be again.

 

For myself I believe I've begun to understand a particular way of approaching metalwork and a particular Japanese feeling about the material. I might call it the language of the tradition. It's from this personal response to the work and tradition that I've had such and intimate experience of that my own work develops.

 

Superficially speaking Japanese art can frequently be identified by the themes and motifs that it depicts. Underneath this obvious feature there is a far more significant aesthetic language at work and it's this aspect that is available to non-Japanese artists to use without their work appearing "Japanesey" or contrived. I tend not to be too concerned with the subject matter I use, and I generally shy away from anything that is too obviously Japanese, but rather decide on subjects for the possibilities they offer in terms of how I can explore my material and techniques. There are classic subjects and themes I would still like to have a go at though. I have a feeling there's a big old dragon in finely carved steel incubating right now...he may need to be given life through my hammer and chisels in the next few years. I mean, you've got to do a dragon sometime

 

I don't know if I've directly answered the question you actually asked but perhaps what I've said would better explain "where I'm coming from"

[Mike Ruslander]

If I may ask, and I hope that my terminology is correct, is the Ana (the hole that the tang of the blade fits through), and consequently the tang itself always a standard size? I see the shape is consistent, but tsuba makers probably always don't have a blade handy to mate the tsuba to when creating this funtional piece of art. Thank you.

[tsterling]

Thanks, Ford. Certainly a difficult thing to quantify. I really like your "far more significant aesthetic language" statement. If I understand you correctly, this is a similar sort of thing I often seek in my own work - I like the Japanese esthetic of artistic sparseness and elegance, and attempt to capture this while attempting not to just re-work strictly Japanese themes.

 

I see Mike has asked a technical question, and I have to admit I've wondered about the same thing.

 

As for my next question, I'm interested in a slightly more philosophical bent. I know the art versus craft thing has been beaten to death, but I'd like to approach it from a slightly different viewpoint, specifically yours. Do you consider yourself to be an artisan, craftsman or artist?

 

What are your goals as a (fill in the blank from your answer to the above)?

[ford hallam]

Hi Mike,

 

As you probably know the shape of a nakago of a sword is one of the identifying characteristics by which specific schools and smiths might be identified. The condition of the tang in terms of patina etc and the inscription are considered very valuable and every care is taken not to damage it. Because of this the nakago ana on a tsuba is made such that only the very top and bottom actually clinch the blade. Frequently, especially on steel or iron guards, this area of contact is lined with a fillet of copper called seki-gane. For anyone interested here's a link to photo tutorial that shows how these copper bits are added. I'd suggest the nakago-ana would generally be slightly larger than a standard nakago.

 

Certain schools, the Seruga and Tanaka for example, finished their tsuba with seki-gane already in place so that only the final fitting at top and bottom, the ha machi and mune machi respectively, needs to be done. I've also seen many tsuba that have clearly never been mounted but that had notches shaped at the top and bottom of the nakago-ana to allow for the copper seki-gane to be easily fitted when required.

 

I hope some of this helps

 

cheers,

 

Ford

[ford hallam]

This aesthetic language I allude to is very much as you've described Tom, I would add though, that the it's also evident in the way the actual work is done. For me there's a real humility in the devotion of these traditional artisans to achieving those subtle and refined finishes that we admire so much. There is so much present in the subtlety of the basic craft aspect that is so easily overlooked but the traditional artisan isn't concerned to draw attention to this. It's as though he is content just to know that he did his best and gave fully of himself. It's this apparent selflessness in the way they worked that past masters inspire me to continue to push the envelope. I think it's a psychological obstacle we "moderns" must overcome if we're to find the best in our own way of making.

 

When I started my career I was fiercely proud of following a tradition of craftsmen. In fact I was quite dismissive of attempts by others to suggest jewellery could be art. I suppose for the first 2/3rds of my career thus far I'd regarded myself solely as a craftsman. In 2000 I suffered a very serious illness which very nearly finished me off. It took nearly 3 years for me to get back on my feet and to be able to get back to work in the studio. During this time I was able to reflect a lot on what I might do should I recover. My wife, Jo's, was the most persuasive voice encouraging me to make a break with the restoration work and to use my craft to express my own aesthetic concerns. As a craftsman I'd been continually refining my skills and developing my technique base and I'd reached a point, I believe, where I realised I had to stop practising and to start performing....in an artistic sense. Time to say something original, so to speak.

 

At this point I feel I am very much following my own creative and aesthetic vision and giving substance to how I feel about the material and the processes I use. I think it fair to call this an honest and uncontrived artistic expression...at least the best I can do right now. The craftsman part of me is an essential component of who and what I am but I am consciously trying to "say" much more than fine craftsmanship alone can. If this is judged to be art then I've managed to become an artist but it's for others ultimately to make that call I think.

 

Where am I going with all this? I suppose I'm working towards a way of creating work that expresses who I am as a maker but that also appears simply just to have been born of nature. I suppose it's a sort of Buddhist thing, this desire to simply create in an uncontrived way and yet still give voice to the whole range of aesthetic responses I feel.

 

This tsuba, which I made recently , seems to have hit that mark for quite a few people. In fact I've had to remake it 3 times so far...with a 4th order outstanding

Edited February 14, 2011 by ford hallam

[tsterling]

I can see why that one's popular, Ford - it's got everything going for it that I like, elegance and sparseness, lovely coloration, the undulating interior rim, the "mushroom gill" texturing (which is what it reminds me of). I'd love to have one myself....

 

In light of your statement "If this is judged to be art then I've managed to become an artist but it's for others ultimately to make that call I think." If it's my call, then, I'm going to assign the term "artist" to you. Looking at the body of your work to date, I seriously doubt there will be any who would object to that term.

 

Since you've shown another of my (many!) favorites of your work, I'll ask this: If you were forced to make a choice of the the single greatest piece of art in your field, what would that be, and why?

Edited February 13, 2011 by tsterling

[ford hallam]

Interesting that the curved lines suggest a mushroom's gills to you. They did to me also...in fact there's mushroom version incubating right now.

 

Thank you for you kind assessment of my work...being regarded as an artist does actually bring a much needed freedom in terms of allowing oneself to go beyond accepted or pre-defined rules so in that sense it's quite helpful to have that sort of recognition from others, especially those who have more of an insight into the process of making.

 

The single greatest piece?...In the words of Mr Miyagi....no can defence There is actually no single greatest work for me because each great work of art is saying something different. There is a shibuichi tsuba by Unno Shomin with 2 old monks on the front and a tiger in kata-kiri on the back that is brilliant. A tsuba in the Boston museum of Fine Art by Kano Natsuo of a single blooming iris may well be the tsuba equivalent of the Pieta by Michaelangelo and there's a small lacquer box with a shibuichi and silver nunome-zogan picture of a duck on a pond beneath some reeds made by kashima Ikkoku I ( an Imperial Artist to the Emperor Meiji) that is sublime. I could go on....a top 10 might be more fair To narrow down my answer to one single work I think I'll need another 30 years. I'll get back to you. I've uploaded some images of the 3 pieces I've mentioned. You can see them here in my Pacasa gallery.

 

I've just reread my post this morning and realised that I didn't provide any answer as to why I chose these pieces. The Natsuo achieves an almost mysterious painterly quality that seems to completely defy the medium, the metal. It's actually quite tiny but it has a remarkable presence that seems to draw you into it's serene and quiet world. The Japanese call this quality Yugen,

 

The Unno Shomin is a masterful display of the chisel. The tattered robes of the 2 monks are rendered in brilliantly convincing way that fully relies on the mark making of the chisel. The tiger is a masterpiece of expressive kata-kiri, again, a technique that relies on the direct action and marks of the tool for it's power. There's no reworking possible. The whole piece is a master class of chiselled texture in fact. Of course the faces of the monks are beautifully appealing too so that you can't help loving these 2 crazy ragamuffins.

 

I have a personal connection to the Ikkoku box as I actually restored it many years ago. The silver had blackened and the delicacy of the composition was completely concealed. I also have a connection to the Ikkoku school in that I studied nunome zogan with the late Nat. Living Treasure Kashima Ikkoku III. He was 93 ( If memory serves) at the time and was himself taught by Ikkoku I. I was privileged to restore a number of masterpieces made by this Imperial artist and feel that in this way I've managed to do a little bit to preserve their legacy.

 

This little panel may well be the single most technically sophisticated bit of art metalwork I've ever seen. To create this delicate and subtle ink wash effect in cold hard metal is almost miraculous. I studied this under a microscope but am still touched by the sheer artistic beauty which transcends the technique completely.

Edited February 14, 2011 by ford hallam