Keeping the Spirit Alive: Get to Know Alan Folts
A free exchange of information
Ask nearly any custom knifemaker who to go to for help, and you’ll likely hear the name Alan Folts. With over 30 years of knife design experience, Alan is known not just for being a master of the craft but for his role as a mentor. He’s offered up countless hours of his time to train others, never asking for anything in return.
“He’s the type of person you can call at 3 A.M. and ask, ‘Hey, how do I heat treat this knife?’ or ‘How do I do this type of grind?’ and he’ll be super helpful,” says knifemaker Kaila Cummings, who trained under Alan.
Alan’s seemingly infinite capacity to help stems from his own experience as a novice knifemaker many years ago. “There were no secrets,” he says. “From knifemaker to knifemaker, there was a free exchange of information.”
Today, he says this remains one of the biggest reasons he’s still so involved in the industry. “The people are friendly, communicative, and eloquent when it comes to sharing the things they’ve learned.”
His interest in knife design began as a passion. He had long been an enthusiast and collector of knives and had grown up in a family that instilled strong do-it-yourself values in him. “I would work on my own cars, fix things around the house, cook, clean. So when knives became a passion, making my own felt like the natural thing to do.”
I tell people my shop is like a Vegas casino. There are no windows, you’re not supposed to know what time of day it is, and you have to be comfortable enough to want to stay there.
A shop like a Vegas casino
Based in Melbourne, Florida, Alan is graced with easy access to the ocean, rivers, and other natural attractions. “We don’t have mountains, but I can get to salt water in 10 minutes, brackish in 7, and fresh in 15,” he boasts. The region offers inspiration as well as a reprieve from work, but sometimes even healthy distractions are, well, distractions. When it’s time to focus, Alan has created a space where he can do so free of the pull of the outer world.
“I tell people my shop is like a Vegas casino,” he says. “There are no windows, you’re not supposed to know what time of day it is, and you have to be comfortable enough to want to stay there.”
Indeed, walking into his shop is a bit like stepping into some kind of wormhole, a causally distinct pocket of the universe where time loses meaning. It’s also small, perhaps impressively so, but very purposeful. The floorplan is crowded but not claustrophobic, with every piece of equipment positioned with intention. One look is all it takes to realize this place was put together by someone who definitely knew what they were doing.
The small shop stands in stark contrast to Alan’s outsize role in the knifemaking community. That so many aspiring makers have come through here makes it all the more impressive. “I probably taught 50 or 60 people how to build their first folding knife in this shop,” Alan says. “And every single one of them taught me something, too.”
Feeling is believing
When he started out, Alan focused on making small knives for one basic reason: “It was cheaper,” he says. This frugality led to one of his most recognizable designs, the Minimalist. Originally conceived from a piece of scrap metal, Alan saw potential to turn waste into something useful. He drilled three large holes into the metal, then cut it in half lengthwise, creating two handles with deep finger choils.
They’re not my most attractive designs. They’re not beautiful, but when you hold them in your hand, there’s a feeling that translates to joy.
Today, the Minimalist has grown into a family of compact, ergonomic, fixed-blade knives pairing the original, highly functional handle design to various different blade styles, including spear points, Persians, and cleavers. “They’re not my most attractive designs,” Alan admits. “They’re not beautiful, but when you hold them in your hand, there’s a feeling that translates to joy.”
Alan says he knew the original Minimalist was a winner when he held a prototype and “it just felt right.” It may not have looked like much, but it was unique in the amount of utility it crammed into such a small package, light enough to be worn as a neck knife or secured to a PFD, yet still comfortable and secure in hand.
Convincing others, however, proved to be a challenge. For two years, he brought prototypes to shows and handed them out to as many people as he could. The knife moved slowly, but Alan didn’t give up. Over time, people slowly came around to the no-nonsense, functionality-above-all-else ethos the Minimalist embodied. Today, it’s his best-selling CRKT design.
Like any artistic pursuit, though, knifemaking isn’t a place where one stands still. Alan is constantly trying new things, striking out in different directions. A perfect example of this is the Ritual. A Persian knife “pushed to extremes,” as he puts it, the Ritual is the exact opposite of the Minimalist: striking in appearance, designed to be beautiful above all else, and built without a specific task in mind. It reveals a different side not just of Alan’s work, but of his personality.
The original Ritual earned admiration for its elegant curves, ergonomic handle, and two-tone, blue-and-white finish. These design cues have now been brought into the new Ritual Compact, a smaller version that doesn’t skimp on style, available with an optional Damascus steel blade and titanium handle. It is anything but minimalist.
It’s not about the credit. If my student finds success, then it’s a success for me. You can be proud to be a part of something even if your name is never associated with it.
Always a student
We tend to think of artists and craftspeople in terms of masters and apprentices, but Alan sees himself as a lifelong student, even when he’s in the midst of teaching others. “I always ask my students, ‘How would you do this?’” he says. “It gives me another outlook on how I could do it.”
It’s also clear that Alan views teaching as a privilege. “It’s not about the credit. If my student finds success, then it’s a success for me. You can be proud to be a part of something even if your name is never associated with it.”
There’s more to teaching knifemaking than how to cut steel, and Alan’s biggest contributions to the community run much deeper than the practical how-to. He is a steward of the spirit of the industry, dedicated to keeping alive the same open exchange of information that allowed him to thrive as a young designer, hopefully inspiring new generations to continue carrying it forward.
