- Joined
- May 10, 2000
- Messages
- 3,351
Many custom makers repeat certain patterns. Sometimes these patterns become signature pieces, of sorts. Jerry Fisk's Sendero Hunter, Charles Ochs' Special Ops Bowie, or Walter Brend's Model 2 come to mind.
If it works, why mess with it, right? The Sendero Hunter, for example, has been tested and used for years. It's blade shape and geometry are extremely well suited to the tasks they're designed for. There's value in consistency and reliability in a proven design.
But that reliability also creates a certain homogeneity, or uniformity, down to the millimeter, that, to some collectors, seems antithetical to the craft of custom knife making. When grinding out a blade on a template, it seems that creativity has been completely removed from the equation. There's no "magic" or serendipity in repeating established patterns, is there? And some who collect for investment also feel that it cheapens the product to know that there are dozens of others just like it, or that a maker can just build more if demand forces a spike in prices. Economists call this concept "elasticity of supply."
Many custom makers say they find that their motivation comes from a desire, no, a quest to create the "perfect" knife. Knowing full well there will never be a perfect knife, they will tell you it's the journey and the discovery that make this quest and end unto itself. So why stop to recreate any one pattern?
If a carbon steel Sendero with plain nickel silver hardware and wood handle currently trades for about $600, what do you suppose it would trade for if it were a completely unique, one-of-a-kind knife?
If it works, why mess with it, right? The Sendero Hunter, for example, has been tested and used for years. It's blade shape and geometry are extremely well suited to the tasks they're designed for. There's value in consistency and reliability in a proven design.
But that reliability also creates a certain homogeneity, or uniformity, down to the millimeter, that, to some collectors, seems antithetical to the craft of custom knife making. When grinding out a blade on a template, it seems that creativity has been completely removed from the equation. There's no "magic" or serendipity in repeating established patterns, is there? And some who collect for investment also feel that it cheapens the product to know that there are dozens of others just like it, or that a maker can just build more if demand forces a spike in prices. Economists call this concept "elasticity of supply."
Many custom makers say they find that their motivation comes from a desire, no, a quest to create the "perfect" knife. Knowing full well there will never be a perfect knife, they will tell you it's the journey and the discovery that make this quest and end unto itself. So why stop to recreate any one pattern?
If a carbon steel Sendero with plain nickel silver hardware and wood handle currently trades for about $600, what do you suppose it would trade for if it were a completely unique, one-of-a-kind knife?