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I have been making sword fittings for Japanese-styled blades full time since 1998 and working with metal and swords since I was thirteen. The Classical Japanese metal work that I now specialize in is a challenging field that has allowed me to draw upon my years of prior experience as a jeweler, sword-maker, welder, and bronze art manufacturer. I am awed by the level of craftsmanship in traditional Japanese sword fittings. There is an enormous body of surviving antiques available for study and inspiration.
My interest in swords is deeply rooted, but my appreciation of art that can be created with metal is not limited to swords. I am expanding my work focus to other objects including Kogamebuta, vases, boxes, and jewelry. The Classical Japanese metal working techniques I’ve learned for creating fittings were also used on these and many other objects.
I am drawn to Japanese art in general: in it I find a special sensitivity to nature and symbolism. Japanese art is abound with textures, colors, and decorations that invoke feelings of being connected to nature. The Japanese aesthetic is complex and can be expressed as simplistic or complex. Entire legends and stories can be symbolized with a single story element. Of course, if you do not know the story, the element can seem very odd and may not appear to communicate much by itself. Once you know the story, the nuances of the symbol can be deep and powerful. Japanese aesthetic is difficult to define and emulate. It is a great challenge to capture it.
When I initially encountered Japanese sword fittings in 1998, I didn’t know the first thing about them, but I was eager to learn. I started by making a handful of tsuba and showing them around to see what kind of responses I would get. From most I received very positive comments, but occasionally someone experienced in Japanese work would give me the "snobby brow". I continued on my own, reverse engineering what antiques I could find. I became a regular at the closest Token Kai show (SFTK). Here I found a plethora of antiques to examine. This helped me a great deal to make more authentic looking work. I drew some good conclusions about how things were made, but this was not enough to really grasp onto a thousand year metal working tradition with any confidence. Still, I was intrigued and fascinated, and continued making parts for years, improving where ever I could.
Written knowledge of Japanese metal work is limited in English and often contains gross inaccuracies. I was seeking deeper, more accurate knowledge, and it wasn’t until Ford Hallam came along and introduced himself that I gained access to a deeper pool of knowledge. Unbeknownst to me, Mr. Hallam had been watching my tedious progression and could relate to my situation. He finally contacted me and related he had in depth knowledge on the subject and was willing to share with me. After many exchanges we developed a kinship, and I found myself on a plane thousands of miles from home. He took three weeks out of his life to share his knowledge. I spent several weeks working long days and evenings. He allowed me unrestricted access to his workbenches. That is quite a privilege since these are very personal almost sacred spaces. He demonstrated many techniques and with his help I created three large Tsuba; each design was chosen to illustrate groups of lessons covering many basic techniques. He also generously gave me supplies from Japan. The whole experience was a huge leap forward for me, and the quality and authenticity of my work improved a great deal.
There are other craftsman that I consider mentors, but they do not wish there names to be disclosed. I have found it is a very private closed craft where information is not shared indiscriminately. I feel privileged to have developed some student-teacher relationships with those who have greater knowledge than myself on the subject. So thanks to all that have contributed to help me get this far.