Last October, I took a beginners’ class in the historic art form of blacksmithing. During the course of the two day class, taught by Rachel David, a New Orleans resident and blacksmith, I discovered a lifestyle entirely foreign to me involving heavy metal. I was fascinated by the seemingly static metal becoming a fluid medium during the process of heating and shaping. Never before had I realized the versatility and plasticity of metals and I became enamored of the art form.
Why an art form? There’s a romantic notion attached to the creative aspect of blacksmithing, along with the practical form which has transformed the modern world through blacksmiths’ relationship with metals. Blacksmiths have literally made themselves obsolete by transforming the world, hence, the romantic concept of obsolescence and the determined resurgence of a few modern-day smithies.
When the list of metal classes came out, I perused the choices: welding, which I had previously tried and loved, a bronze class that was cost prohibitive due to the material needed and required experience with sand casting and blacksmithing, which had an allure I couldn’t quite explain. I was the chick in high school who took auto shop instead of home economics so perhaps I intrinsically lean towards getting really dirty. Maybe the added bonus of banging on metal to diminish stress appealed to me, too. Certainly, it was cheaper than therapy or meds.
It is an arduous art form that requires a pure physicality and discipline like no other medium I have ever before experienced. Becoming a blacksmith requires serious dedication to the lifestyle, as forging is not for dabblers or dilettantes. The artist must be committed to the physical extremes of forging in hot studios and wearing ear protection to combat the constant clamor of hammering on metal, not to mention the expense of the medium. For our class of five people at Louisiana Artworks, Rachel lugged to class in her pick-up truck from her studio: three anvils, steel rods, hammers, tongs and other necessary items. Over the two days I sweated, got dirty, burned myself, had blisters and loved every minute.
On Day One, we were shown basic techniques in handling the metal: drawing, shrinking, bending, upsetting, and punching. Speed is critical once you remove your metal from the oven. You can’t sit there like Rodin’s Thinker and then begin to hammer as your metal will have completely cooled. You have to jump on the hammer and immediately start pounding. On Day Two, we moved further into designing pieces with the techniques we’d learned the previous day. Rachel told us to think about ideas or shapes we wanted to try out. She suggested using a piece of chalk and drawing the shape on the workshop floor. You could use the pattern on the floor to see how your design was shaping up.
Rachel also talked to me about the potential for green blacksmithing. Blacksmith ovens could use charcoal, requiring wood to be cut and burnt to charcoal. Voluminous amounts of wood would be needed for the amount of charcoal necessary to keep an oven at 1500 degrees. Currently, the blacksmith ovens in use today are less than sustainable, consuming both electricity and propane gas. An entirely sustainable process would be a challenge and perhaps alternatives are on the horizon.
While as of yet uncommitted to a joining the Cult of Hephaestus on a full-time basis, I gained a whole new awareness regarding metal as an art form. Thanks to Rachel, I am now unable to look at hand-crafted metal, be it a belt buckle or pictures of delicate wrought fences from centuries ago, without thinking of the blacksmith who created the work of art out of their sweat, muscle and vision.
UNDER a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.
The Village Blacksmith by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Photos by Suzanne Richards and Alex Lines
