These words refer to ability that may be the result of training, talent, perceptivity or a combination of some or all of these qualities. Skill is the least formal of these, the most general and the most clear-cut in reference. It may refer, most simply, to relatively commonplace abilities gained largely through training: skill at taking dictation. But it may refer also to ability that training alone could not account for without considerable natural talent: the skill of the prima ballerina. Even in this situation, the word would suggest a necessary adjunct of artistic accomplishment rather than its life-blood. With artistry , the situation is quite the reverse. Here all the imponderables that go into exquisite performance and accomplishment are indicated, and, while training, talent and taste play their part, they work in concert with other less common qualities: the artistry of a great violinist. Because of the strong praise conferred by the word, it is often used hyperbolically of non-artistic acts to suggest how creatively even a seemingly mechanical task may be approached: the artistry with which the waiter tossed the salad.

Deftness and adroitness are much nearer skill than artistry in their implications. Deftness may suggest simple manual dexterity when this natural ability has been highly trained: her deftness in handling the complicated tabulator. Less concretely, it can suggest a trained ability to handle any sort of difficult situation: the deftness of a good diplomat in avoiding embarrassing incidents. Adroitness also may pertain to skill at physical manipulation, but it is better able than deftness to suggest knowledgeable appropriateness of behaviour in potentially charged situations: the adroitness of a good hostess in turning a conversation away from disagreeable topics. It is more likely than deftness to refer to an artistic act at a higher level than technical skill : the adroitness with which the author managed the fugal structure of his novel.

Just as the previous pair are more closely related to skill, so finesse and flair are more closely related to artistry , though they suggest aspects of artistry rather than equivalents to it. Finesse pertains to unusually excellent formal technique that joins to ordinary skill such imponderables as exuberance, taste, perceptivity, wit or cleverness: the chess champion’s finesse in both defensive and offensive play. Someone crediting an artist with his quality rather than artistry would be suggesting a lack of emotional depth or maturity: the flawless but shallow finesse of the young pianist. Flair is the one word here that need not suggest thorough training; what it points to instead is a natural talent that is surprising in its forcefulness, whimsy, colourfulness or vivacity: a flair for watercolours that is all the more impressive considering his lack of experience in the medium. In reference to admittedly trained people, the word can suggest work with zest or dramatic impact that goes beyond mere adroitness or finesse : writing with flair despite the rigid limitations of the heroic couplet. Less exaltedly, the word can refer to anything that is very striking about someone’s personal taste: a way of dressing that showed a flair for exploiting bold patterns and colours within the bounds of good taste.

Mastery is ambivalent in that it can apply to simple training, like skill , or to the highest of attainments, like artistry : mastery of her job on the assembly line; magnificent murals that are the apex of Michelangelo’s mastery as a painter.