Tim Potier may be the man you need to call. For more than a quarter
century, the Louisiana knifemaker has been forging custom blades for
collectors who understand that, when all else fails, a good knife
won't.
One of only a hundred or so certified master bladesmiths in the
world, Potier hammers out his handcrafted knives and axes in a workshop
in an old hay shed at the rear of a rambling compound in the town of
Oberlin, near the heart of Cajun country a few hours west of New
Orleans. The surrounding landscape of rice fields and sawmills seems an
appropriate setting for a man who has spent the better part of 30 years
honing the craft of honing steel to a razor's edge.
Visiting Potier's homestead one day last month, I needed only to
follow the sound of hammering to locate him hard at work on a piece of
red-hot iron. With a squat, powerful build, brown smock and robust
mustache, Potier looked like he could have walked straight out of a
19th-century smithy. And, in truth, many things about making custom
knives have remained the same over the intervening years.
Potier, like his knife-making forebears, heats his steel in a small
forge, places it on a heavy anvil and pounds it with hammers of varying
size. (Potier picked up most of his forging tools for a song when a
local plant shut down its on-site machine shop.)
Working from his own drawings, he folds his steel layer upon layer,
making the blade strong, grinds and strops the edges to exquisite
sharpness, fashions the handles from exotic materials like
centuries-old walnut imported from Turkey or fossilized walrus tusk,
etches the blades with intricate patterns, and even fashions his own
sheaths for the finished knives.
As he works, Potier keeps a detailed log of each knife's creation,
cataloging techniques and materials, what went right and what went
wrong, and keeping the finished notes in bound volumes on his shelf for
future reference. As you might expect, such a painstaking process
limits the number of finished knives Potier can produce, which he says
usually tops out at around 10 to 12 a year.
Each blade carries his name in small letters near the base and a
number designating its place in his personal chronology. He's up to 333
for his career.
But within that small universe is an astonishing variety, from small
two-inch folding "Scagel" knives to almost two-foot-long Bowie knives,
exacting replicas of the deadly three-pound cutting tool carried by the
famous frontiersman at the Alamo. Some blades are quite plain, others
carry the elaborate decorative swirls of Damascus steel, the long-lost
method of forging devised by ancient Middle Eastern metallurgists and
rediscovered only in the mid-1990s by pioneering American bladesmith Al
Pendray. Potier's prices range from $300 for his small folding knives,
to about $1,500 for a standard Bowie knife, to around $3,000 for one of
his top-end Damascus blades.
If you want to go up a level, some custom blademakers, such as
Pennsylvania's Ken Steigerwalt or Wisconsin's Matthew Lerch, fashion
knives that are closer to objects of art. Steigerwalt, for example,
uses black pearl and 18-karat gold inlays on his knives, which can cost
as much as $8,000. Beyond that, recent auctions of knives made by
German master Jürgen Steinau and by American Michael Walker have
fetched upward of $20,000 each.
As you might expect, high-end custom knives aren't available at your
neighborhood Dick's Sporting Goods. Serious collectors attend one or
more of the big annual knife shows, the largest of which is Atlanta's
Blade Show & International Cutlery Fair, scheduled for May 29-31.
Other notable shows include the Chicago Custom Knife Show in September
and the East Coast Custom Knife Show, which usually happens in late
February or early March. New York also hosts its own custom knife show
in November.
A good way to get immersed in custom knives is to visit the Web
sites of well-known dealers, such as Paul Shindler's Knifelegends.com,
Alex Kantares' Artknifestudio.com or Michael Donato's
Knifepurveyor.com.
Joe Kertzman, managing editor of Blade, says his magazine publishes
a calendar of shows as well as an annual standalone directory of custom
knifemakers. He adds, as a practical matter, that many custom
knifemakers list their goods on eBay.
Of course, however beautiful Potier's knives are -- and they are --
the real test is toughness. After sharpening an unfinished blade at a
wheel in his workshop, Potier walked outside and strung up a one-inch
thick rope to demonstrate one of the tests a Master Bladesmith must
pass to be certified by the American Bladesmith Society. Stepping back
from the rope, which was untethered, Potier cocked his arm and made a
violent chop down and across, cutting the rope cleanly. He then
repeated the feat several more times, failing to cut the rope cleanly
only once. After, he let me feel the blade. Its edge was still keen
enough to give a close shave.
In an actual test for certification, a smith's blade must not only
cut the rope, but also hack through a two-by-four (twice), then shave
hair on an arm before being placed in a vise and bent ninety degrees
without shattering.
Learning how to make such a blade took Potier some eight years of
study, first as an apprentice, then as a journeyman, before finally
being dubbed a master in 1994.
Potier was present at the beginning of the modern resurgence in
American bladesmithing. After becoming interested in knife making, he
was one of the first to attend a now-famous forging school in Arkansas
founded in the mid-1980s by legendary knife maker Bill Moran. Though
Potier had been working with blades for several years before he went,
he quickly found that, in his own words, "he knew nothing" about knife
making. These days Potier still attends "hammer ins" and occasionally
teaches a class at the school, which has been central to ushering in
what is acknowledged to be a golden age in American knife making.
Trade shows sponsored by the American Bladesmith Society and
publications such as Blade now draw hundreds of exhibitors and tens of
thousands of patrons. Some well-known blademakers, such as Bob Kramer,
who was profiled in The New Yorker last year, have struck deals with
Japanese and European knife companies, which once looked down on
American bladesmiths as inferior.
Though Potier hasn't established a global brand, he will head to
France this summer to teach aspiring European blademakers a thing or
two about American steel. In an age where domestic industries ranging
from automobiles to investment banking are in decline, it's good to
know that in at least one field America remains on the cutting edge.
Comments
http://www.knifeology.com/ is another great site to see custom knives.