There is a conversation happening between bladesmiths over time. The language is the blades themselves, the subject is the technique and the spirit of discourse is the art. I once heard bladesmith Joshua Prince say “Art belonged to everyone before the advent of the artist”. Whether or not something is art is clearly subjective. To the galleries and gatekeepers of fine arts, knives are of course not art but to the appreciating customer they are indeed objects of high artistic expression. Because of the rejection of the utilitarian by the art establishment, I choose to call myself an artisan rather than artist. If the purpose of art is to be emotionally evocative and attempt to express the ineffable, then knives are not art. The purpose of a knife is to cut but the purpose of artistic or artisanal knives is to improve the experience of cutting.
In this way we bring an elevated experience to the kitchen or outdoors task. Even mundane everyday cutting tasks can be enjoyed more by the pleasure the user derives from the use of the finely made item. If art gives the viewer or listener an improved life by the pleasure they receive from experiencing it the knives do the same thing. But with a beautiful knife it is with the physical interaction with the tool. It is the use of the art object that changes everything. No wonder the middle aged, heavy acrylic rimmed glasses wearing curators of the urban centers of the world spurn the objects that are both beautiful and useful. Artistic knife design can tell a story, make the user think or just be cherished by the owner in all the ways that visual art and music can do but transcends the merely expressive by becoming an extension of the will of the user.
I say why not be both? And knives are indeed both objects of art and useful tools. Even prehistoric flint knappers would not only choose stone for its workability but also for its natural beauty. Many artistic pursuits were often developed further because of their usefulness in embellishing swords and daggers. Engraving, enameling, metal casting, jewel setting and relief carving all developed alongside arms and armor through history. They no doubt grew together through centuries of cultural heritage.
An irony of art in knives is that there is a class of art knives that include techniques like scrimshaw and engraving that seem to separate the two pursuits while combining them. That is to say, instead of the knife itself being the object of admiration, the pasted-on image of a naked woman or dragon seems to be the art and the knife itself, no matter how beautifully made, is simply the canvas. I will admit that I am biased against such art knives because I, like many in my generation, see the artistic choices on these blades as dated and corny. This brings us back to the subjectivity of art. Many people would love to have a $10,000 knife with a wizard expertly engraved and enameled on the handle with precious gems inlaid into the image in strategic spots. I would not, but I can certainly appreciate the lifetime of practice that kind of expertise takes to master.
Ultimately there are things that can be agreed on regardless of taste when it comes to the subject of art in knives. What I find universally valued is a high degree of dedication and skill, respect for the traditions and cultural customs that different blade styles come from and an appreciation for the effort and heart put into any knife, no matter the style. In this way we can see our humanity in these tools that have accompanied us in our journey from the dim reaches of history.