IMA19 Cutting Edge Art Part 2

Page 19

T h e C U T T I N G E D G E
Welcome to One of the Many Worlds
Of One-of-a-Kind Masterworks

Part 2

Fig. 1.

Fancy fixed-blade knives are limited only by the builder's imagination and skill.
While a single piece of metal is used to form the main blade and spine inside the handle,
other, purely ornamental accents are added later and fitted precisely into place without welding.

Fig. 2.

Fig. 3.

Fig. 4.

Fig. 5.

Fig. 6.

Fig. 7.

Fig. 8.

Other than Samurai style weapons, most art swords are ceremonial in design, and not intended for use in actual combat.

Fig. 9.

Fig. 10.

Fig. 11.

Fig. 12.

Fig. 13.

Fig. 14.

Fig. 15. My personal favorite among the swords shown.

Fig. 16.

Fig. 17.

Many art knives are known for their secret locks and other hidden features.

Fig. 18.

Fig. 19.

In all four of the examples shown here, two above and the two below,
small but potentially lethal blades are hidden inside the guards.

Fig. 20.

Fig. 21.

Fig. 22.

First Drafts of a truly different kind of knife.

My original idea was for an eagle knife that might sit on a table or desk, supported solely by its wings. Instead of an art piece locked inside a case,
this was something that could serve both a functional and aesthetic role.

Fig. 23. Making the transition from a horizontal to vertical blade.

Fig. 24.

The Poniard of Peace

    Last but not least among the many drawings on display, was my concept for a symbolic piece that would sit on a table as both a static sculpture and a fully functional, fully operational knife and quill pen combination. Based on the proverbial idea that the pen is "mightier than the sword" (or in this case, the knife), the removable blade was, in actuality, a usable ink pen that while installed in its handle, remained hidden from view.

    When fully assembled and locked, the piece, though slightly garish, would appear as little more than a nicely sculpted golden eagle, resting on its metal wings, and spouting a brilliantly silver, pure titanium blade. The philosophy and craftsmanship of the knife would hopefully outshine the otherwise gimmicky aspect of turning a secret lever, swiveling the bird's head, and withdrawing the blade from its "holder". Once removed, the solid blade reveals itself as "old fashioned" quill pen which is either dipped in a special built-in reservoir, or is fitted with the business end of the famous Montblanc fountain pen. The same pen used by dignitaries both foreign and domestic, when signing treaties and other political agreements.

    Most of the drawings that accompany this specific design are highly detailed explorations for how the various mechanisms of the knife might realistically be made, pieced together, and operate. Securing the removable blade posed as the greatest challenge and a great deal of thought and ingenuity went into the dual requirements of simplicity and ruggedness.

    Given all my ideas for art knives, this particular concept was, for Herman, the most exciting and the one which for him personally, held the most promise. Had time and circumstances been different, the master felt that among all his completed pieces, produced over many years, "The Poniard of Peace" (as the knife would have been known) was his best chance of winning top honors in the competitive world of custom knives: the coveted and prestigious W.W. Cronk award.

    We all carry around regrets that had things been otherwise, we could have, even should have, done this or that thing. Gone here or there, or in Herman's case, made one knife or some other. In this instance, no loss was incurred one way or another. It would have been great fun, perhaps, to see the poniard come to life -- literally. And maybe it still will someday, who knows? All the original drawings are still in my vault just waiting to be resurrected and forged anew. If not from me, then via the efforts of someone else who feels particularly adventurous.

    Or maybe it's never to be, which is perfectly fine also. Since the advent and continued development of 3-D printing technologies, however, I must confess to a certain disappointment that I won't live to see the ease at which something like my little pen-knife could actually come into existence. Honestly, though, I must admit to feigning my own regrets. As the symbolic Dr. Frankenstein to my own creation, I have heard myself say, more than once, "It's alive!"

Fig. 25.

First look at the vertically aligned knife. The contrast between the
stainless steel body which is tinted or stained gold, and the
the silver titanium blade would have been striking.

Fig. 26.

Pictured above is the prototype of the final, fully assembled eagle knife.

Fig. 27.

Fig. 28.

Shown below are the three designs for securing the shaft of the "feather" tightly in place inside the eagle's body. Turning any one of these
end pieces in a clockwise manner would increasingly tighten the shaft.

Fig. 29.

Fig. 30.

Fig. 31.

Fig. 32.

As shown, a multitude of individual pieces would need to be cast, ground,
and fitted together by a combination of pressure joints and hidden screws.

Fig. 33.

Removal and/or reinsertion of the blade (feather) and quill pen assembly.

Fig. 34.

Fig. 35.

Fig. 36.

Fig. 37.

Fig. 38.

In the final analysis, the eagle knife with its detachable vertical blade would have required a lot more development.

This was all twenty years ago. Using one of today's CAD software programs would have made this job a lot easier. Any knife, artistic or otherwise, must always adhere to its true form and function, first and foremost. The Poniard was never intended as a novelty item or anything other than a knife whose rigidity and strength was the equal of most other ornamental weapons. The final drawings below represent my efforts at ensuring that the sculpture met these specifications.

Fig. 39.

Fig. 41.

Fig. 40.

Fig. 42.

The following essay, now well over twenty years old, was written as a colorful description designed to accompany the completed sculpture. It was also intended as part of the expanded documentation which would have been included with an extensive certification of authenticity. As part of the surviving history of this particular endeavor, I decided to make it available to those who might enjoy the additional verbiage that went with the original project.

T h e P o n i a r d o f P e a c e
The Philosophy behind the Metal

    Combative conflicts which arise between unrelenting powers can only be resolved via the exercise of one or the other of two separately available options.     The eagle knife, referred to here as The Poniard of Peace, symbolically incorporates both of these two possible courses of action, each of which concludes inevitably in a state of peace. The main difference between the two choices, however, is measurable in terms of both the price exacted from each, and the uninterrupted perpetuation of that peace.

    I. The first option for the settling of serious international disputes is through the threat or use of potentially lethal violence. In this case, the eagle knife is a definitive weapon of violence. The poniard, in its fully assembled form is a totally functional dirk whose design, other than aesthetic, is perfectly suited to inflict grievous or lethal wounds.

    II. The second option possible is derived from an old axiom which states that “the pen is mightier than the sword”. This aphorism can be interpreted in at least two ways: one, that the written word – itself representative of thought and communication – can inspire the finer attributes of people and change the course of history. This as opposed to the use of force which can only subjugate or oppress. Or secondly, that the signing of documents which allow for accords of mutual agreement is infinitely preferable – by today’s standards – over the horrors of war. In this context, the Poniard of Peace can be disassembled into a usable writing instrument composed of a feather quill pen and an inkwell, both poised for the signing and dating of a hypothetical treaty between the peoples of two or more nations.

    In so doing, the eagle knife loses its appearance and function as any form of weapon. Reassembly after use as a signing tool, restores the knife’s potential as a killing instrument – assuring defense from future aggression and insuring that provisions of peace are backed by a resolve of strength. The poniard could easily rest upon the desk or table of any world leader – a powerful symbol for the choices that invariably arise and the decisions which must be made. The knife represents a contradiction of forces and ideas – opposites that each cancel the other and offer uses and alternatives in dire contrast to one another.

    The work encompasses the classic poet warrior, cast and shaped within the opposing ideals of victory and defeat, survival and sacrifice. In its assembled form – as a weapon – the feather blade rests within the breast and heart of the eagle itself, an animal adopted almost universally as a symbol of national pride. Although at times unavoidable, the existence and necessity of weapons in general, represent an anathema to the human spirit.

    The inkwell cannot be seen or accessed as long as the poniard is in its fully assembled form. This suggests that accords of peace are weak or flawed when executed via the threat or display of force. The feather blade is not easily removed and the means of doing so is neither obvious nor apparent. In overall appearance, the knife looks to be no more than what it is. The opposite is also true, meaning when disassembled, the sculpture appears to be little more than some kind of fancy quill pen and holder.

    The blade is locked firmly in place at two separate points, both front and rear, with each requiring individual methods of unlocking and release. When in this locked position, no evidence exists whatsover that the blade is also a quill pen. A strange apparatus does appear at the rear of the knife’s handle and performs two functions: protection of the fragile nib, and to arouse curiosity while remaining artistically interesting and balanced.

    Once the feather blade is completely removed, the eagle itself stays intact, its long tail feathers trailing rearward and forming the grip-handle of the knife. To withdraw the blade, the eagle’s head is swiveled down and away from its body, thus revealing the otherwise hidden inkwell. In this sense, pride must be willing to bow to compromise in much the same way as the bird’s head dips to expose the ink. The nib of the quill itself is a solid gold version of the famous Montblanc pen which has often been used to sign historical treaties and other documents.

    Lastly it is notable that the poniard does not lay flat or on its side as is the case with most, if not all other daggers and knives. Rather, it rests solidly in a sturdy, fully balanced and upright posture. As a writing instrument, hypothetically containing a small vial of ink, practicality alone dictates a standing, vertical design. Symbolically, however, it might be suggested that the entire sculpture rests upon the eagle’s strength. In this context, the raptor is representative of the support of a given populace whose willingness to abide the political decisions made by its leaders, is something that those in power should neither forget or ignore.

    The Poniard of Peace is therefore unique in its ability to rest atop a desk or elsewhere – perhaps in the office of a sitting president – as a beautiful work of art, as an easily grasped weapon, and as a joint political and philosophical paperweight.

    The question is asked as to whether the Poniard is a writing set that can be changed into an imposing knive, or a dirk that turns into an elaborate pen and ink device. The easy answer is, of course, embodied by the very structure and nature of the knife; it is simultaneously neither and both.

    As always, the choice is ours to make, as a global community, as to how such tools are used.