Laguiole

The cutting edge of success

What is the secret of the remarkable fashion for the Laguiole knife? In a nutshell: its unique combination of tradition and contemporary design.
So what’s in a name? Well, Laguiole is a village of 1300 inhabitants, a cheese produced by the same and, of course, a knife, “the Rolls Royce of blades” as some like to call it.
It is pronounced, illogically enough, “la yole.” More funny logic, yole is French for skiff and the Aubrac, where the knives are made, is about as landlubberish as you can get. The locals seem to enjoy the paradox. No doubt that the pronunciation is just softened over time. It’s anybody’s guess.
But why has the knife itself interested designers like Philippe Starck or Yann Pennor’s and such smart houses as Hermès or Sonia Rykiel?

The story begins last century when the local dagger, the capouchadou, was transformed into a tough folding knife of steel. The Laguiole was the brainchild of Pierre-Jean Calmels. It soon became indispensable, acquiring new features to meet the needs and experiences of lads from the Aveyronnais. The shepherds needed an awl: Calmels added one. For Aveyronnais boys making their way in Parisian bistros, het fitted a corkscrew. The reputation of the Laguiole grew, soon attracting the “better class of user.” Calmels added refinements, perfecting the and civilizing his tool, bedecking it with horn, ordinary or precious wood and ivory. The object was meticulously finisched, handsome and easy to use. In fact, the Laguiole became such a standard accessory for everyone from Jean Dupont to Gérard Depardieu, Pierre Perret and Alain Juppe that it was almost invisible. Laguiole is but a small village in the sparsely populated Aubrac and locals had begun to forget their famous child.

Thought Calmels had maintained his workshop, his cousins had moved to the great cutlery-making town of Thiers. The market was flooded with fake “authentic” and “veritable” Laguioles from the Marne valley or Pakistan, but rarely from Laguiole. Heresy. A foreign imitation will never be a Laguiole. And so, in the mid-eighties, a new generation of cutlers set about sharpening Laguiole’s image. The laudable initiators were the great-granddaughters of Pierre-Jean Calmels, Nicole and Catherine, who took up the family shop. Then came the company founded by Patrick Fraysse, unambiguously named Le Couteau de Laguiole.

He and his associates learnt the Laguiole-maker’s trade in Nogent-en-Bassigny (Haut-Marne) before reimplanting it in the Aubrac. Their company simply pierces the stamp, adjusts, mounts and polishes. The forging work itself is contracted out to Les Forges de Laguiole, themselves and emblematic blend of tradition and modernity.

Betting on the blade

The Forges were opened in 1987 by Gérard Boissins, a local man who set about the undertaking with an almost missionary concern to defend the Laguiole against annexation by Thiers and to inject a bit of economic vitality into the region. Boissins registered a special Laguiole trademark to protect his product’s authenticity. And his factory was designed by no less than Philippe Starck. In his transparent, blade-topped building a workforce of 90 produces some 200.000 knives a year for a 1994 turnover of 24 million francs. “Laguiole is now producing more knives than ever before,” explains Boissins. The operation goes from strength to strength without sacrificing century-old traditions. Mass consumption cannot dull them. “We are the only producers who do everything on site. That’s vital for quality, because it means we can intervene whenever necessary.”
Produced in the time-honoured way, a Laguiole can take anything from a few hours to several days for more sophisticated models. Some forty operations are involved. Which are the most sought after? “The traditional knives and the one by Philippe Starck, Yan Pennor’s and Eric Raffy, The Hermès “Herlag” and the model created for Sonia Rykiel. We have also designed one for Michel Bras’ wine waiter.” As Hermès put it, all these conjunctions express the union of “families of contemporary craftsmen with much in common.” The signs of success are manifold.
There is media interest in the business success story, the many plaudits, including the Comité Colbert’s choice of Philippe Starck’s Laguiole to feature among the fifteen most representative products of French design in Ney York in 1989, and the European design prize awarded at the Seville Universal Exposition – France’s only trophy in that field.
And the story goes on. Now solidly established in France, the knife has begun to carve out foreign markets. “At the moment 15% of our turnover is from exports, mainly to Japan, Germany, Belgium and Italy,” says Boissins. “We are looking to move into the USA, but it’s a very tough market.”
Well, if anyone cut it, the Laguiole can. “What people like about his knife is its style. It may sound odd, but we say its beauty comes before its usefulness,” says M. Alazard, secretary general of the association L’Académie de Couteau de Laguiole. (Yes, the Laguiole has its own fan club, whose members include singer Patricia Kaas and top anchorwoman Clair Chazal, whose father was a cutler.) Rooted in tradition, steeled by success, adulated like a star, covered with praise and prized like a vintage wine, the evergreen Laguiole is a keen bet for the future.

Laguiole shop