Thomas Pool: As a blacksmith, what drew you to knife making, both as objects of beauty and utility?
Sam Gleeson: Well, firstly I have to say, I’m not actually a blacksmith – I’m a bladesmith, I just make chef’s knives. Whilst some blacksmiths do make knives, not all knife makers are bladesmiths, so whilst I use some of the traditional skills of the blacksmith, I wouldn’t be the guy to ask to make you a set of gates or shoe your horse!
Prior to my life as a bladesmith, I was actually a furniture maker and a chef, working for restaurants and popup dinners; cooking and making cocktails whilst also building feature furniture pieces for the same restaurants and private clients. I actually have a dining table I built with a couple of friends that’s in The National Gallery of Ireland.
So my journey into knives was actually an extension of my use of them as tools. I think the more I’ve fallen down the forging rabbit hole, the more I have delved into the beauty in the materials that I’m able to incorporate into my work.
TP: How has your practice evolved over the years?
SG: I was introduced to knife making one afternoon in the workshop of Fingal Ferguson, from Gubbeen smokehouse, after we’d been cooking at an event together. He showed me a few things and sent me on my way home with a few bits of steel to play with.
Very quickly after making a few blades just using the tools I had at hand, which were mainly a grinder and files using a process known as stock removal, I built myself a forge out of an old BBQ and my wife’s hairdryer and started trying to forge my own blades. After lots of smoke-filled days in the workshop and burnt blades, I contacted bladesmith Joel Black in the UK, whose work I really liked and asked if I could pay for a week’s guidance in his forge. That really set me off on the tangent; I have been exploring ever since.
Over the following years, I have made a point of developing my practice, not only through my own trial and error, but by learning from others I’m inspired by. I’ve been lucky to work with some incredible smiths and makers now, and count many of them as friends as well as teachers.
For me, forging is both practical and ethereal – it allows for the best use of a piece of material. With careful use of the hammer, a near finished blade can be made, requiring very little trimming or grinding. The red hot glow of the forge, transforming solid steel into something malleable, is quite magical and sparks hidden reflexes from our past.
My dad was a machinist who restored engines for vintage motor cars and I inherited his tools when he died. I have his anvil at centre stage in my forge and every blade I make is hammered on that block of iron – at times, when I’m in my absolute element, it’s as though I’m connecting with him again, all those years as a little kid hanging out in his workshop and playing with tools. Now I have a family of my own and my kids are beginning to come out in the workshop and have an interest in making things and using tools; it’s a wonderful coming of age.
TP: How and where do you source the raw materials for your pieces?
SG: I source the main steel from Germany, Japan, and the UK. I like certain types of steel to forge with that will create high quality tools that can be used every day whilst being easy to maintain and keep sharp. This is due to their chemical composition and the quality of how clean their production is.
I combine these steels with many found, recycled and repurposed pieces: wrought iron from cartwheel rims or old Victorian farm fencing; ships anchor chains plucked from the bed of the Shannon; plough tines of long forgotten machines; whiskey barrel straps, parts from rusting boats, shotgun barrels. I love the stories these materials hold, and being able to give them a new life by weaving them into a blade is one of the greatest joys of my work.
Sometimes customers bring me significant materials from their lives to incorporate into a project. Recently I have had some amazing African blackwood offcuts from a Senegalese mask maker. Someone else brought me parts of their grandfather’s rotting boat; another a shotgun barrel belonging to his grandfather, an antler from the first deer he shot and piece of timber from their great-grandfather’s barn in the US – the finished knife is intended to be for his son as an heirloom piece.
The timber I use for the handles is mainly storm or disease felled Irish hardwoods that I stabilise in-house with resin to really make them ready for their new work. Occasionally I use some tropical species. I’ve a few bits and pieces from my time living in West Africa, some interesting Thai jungle timbers from a meeting with a maker over there whilst travelling, and a few inherited gems I was given by a widow of a UK maker, who made knives for the Royal Family back in the day.
TP: You were recently shortlisted for the Golden Fleece Award 2024. Do you feel that bladesmithing is becoming more widely accepted as a fine art discipline?
SG: Interestingly, since we found out my wife was pregnant with twins, and I knew that I would have to take time away from the workshop to mind the other two kids, I decided to use the time I did have to work out how I could bring my practice more into the fine art world and straddle that fine line that can exist in many crafts.
This has led me to think about not only how I make my work, but also how to really hone in on the story of the materials involved and how some of the processes have shaped our journey as a species. I find it really interesting that knives are essentially one of the earliest tools and part of what has defined humanity; they are still used every day by people throughout the world, regardless of wealth, race, politics, or sexuality. The knife is an essential part of our existence.
It was a great honour to be shortlisted for the Golden Fleece, very unexpected too. And now with work showing at the Homo Faber Exhibition of Life in Venice in September, and another exhibition/award I can’t talk about till later in the year, it’s really interesting to see others appreciating my working vision of the knife as art. I’m intrigued by how people and place are connected by materials and craft – this has always been an interest of mine, both as a chef and a maker, and has opened up so many journeys for me across the globe exploring these ideas.
TP: Bladesmithing is an ancient practice, with metal artefacts widely housed in museums of antiquity. Do you ever imagine what your pieces will be like in thousands of years, and how they may be viewed?
SG: The National Museum of Ireland has actually just brought one of my knives to go into their permanent collection as part of the twenty-first-century craft archive. I had a visit from two of the curators, who came to the forge to talk through my work before they set up the purchase.
Ultimately, I am making tools to be used in daily life. I hope with care and attention that my work will outlast their commissioner’s lifetimes and become heirloom pieces for future generations. I would hope there is equal love and appreciation of the skills and techniques used within my work as there is for its aesthetics and beauty. Every piece has been in my hands throughout its journey from raw steel to finished blade; there are irregularities and imperfections that are part of the charm, but may also be a product of finding the balance or grip for a particular blade. I spend a surprising amount of time with a knife in my hand but not actually looking at it whilst I’m making – I want it to feel right, first and foremost. I’m equally meticulous with my material selections, but it’s the tiny details in the forging and fit that make the knife sit so well in the hand. This truly makes someone love the ‘handmade’ in my work.
TP: Are there any upcoming projects you’d like to share with us?
SG: Yes, many! I’ve certainly not been idle whilst juggling the newborn twins and two older kids! Firstly, my wife and I are just in the beginnings of securing funding to build a community-based arts, crafts and cookery school here in Clare – a space for people to come and learn, skill-share, stay, develop ideas, and grow. ‘Under One Roof’ is a collective effort to build something that hasn’t been done in Ireland before, so keep an eye out as our story progresses. We are starting this journey with a free workshop as part of National Heritage Week /August Craft Month. In October, we will welcome guests from the US as part of The Dead Rabbit’s new Irish crafts tours and will be feeding and demoing alongside Éamonn O’Sullivan from Hewn – a Westport-based craft business, specialising in hand-carved wooden spoons and homeware.
Secondly, I’m product testing some prototypes for a new series of knives I’m hoping to launch at the RDS Showcase next January. Lastly, I’ve a couple more submissions in for some interesting exhibitions, so I’m hoping I’ll make the cut for some of those. I just found out my work was selected for an exhibition of the American Artist Blacksmiths Association, which is rather nice, and I’m really excited to be heading to Venice for the opening of the Homo Faber exhibition in a few weeks.
I’m waiting to hear whether I’ve received an Arts Council Award this year. If it comes through, I plan to develop a project using iron ore found in Irish bog soil to smelt with and create a blade or two. There’s also the possibility of a journey to Japan next year to dive deeper into this smelting project and bring some cross-cultural elements into the mix. It’s exciting to see my work spread beyond the confines of the kitchen.
Sam Gleeson is a bladesmith, furniture-maker and chef based in County Clare.
