Burlington

I suppose I do have a minor form of the travel bug. I was sitting at home for the past week and when the opportunity to come up to Burlington for a few days arose, I leapt on it.

When the sun sets on the other side of Lake Champlain this town gets cold. This morning you couldn't see it rise; flake by giant flake snow floated to cover the ground in a thin coat that would survive in the shadows but slowly be swallowed by the sun as it moved in its usual way.

The last time that I was up here I came up on the first sunny/warm day since winter descended on Vermont. Turned out yesterday was also the first warm day of the year. When I stepped out of the car at UVM in my down jacket Mike Brandon met me in short sleeves.

Officially my road trip has ended, but my pursuit to blacksmith in the foreseeable future has not.

Stroudsburg and Worcester

I got into the forge Saturday. While visiting Andrew Molinaro he offered a forge, a hammer, an anvil and some time in the forge:

A Small Forged Knife

Andrew runs one of the premier blacksmithing shops on the east coast. Modern blacksmithing is a combination of fabrication and traditional methods. Where most shops probably do something like 50% traditional blacksmithing and 50% fabrication, Andrew's shop does something like 80% blacksmithing and 20% fabrication.

His work in blacksmithing has landed him one the largest iron work jobs ever funded by the government. He will be producing iron work in the style of Samuel Yellin for the federal reserve in Manhattan. Throughout his career Andrew has looked to Yellin and his workshop as a model to work towards. At the moment he employs two other smiths and says he has the space for several more if his shop were to expand..

For the moment I'm at Holy Cross and will be hitting up the homestead within the next 24 hours.

Friday

Jim Thorpe is an old coal town in the Lehigh valley, once called the Switzerland of the US for it's idyllic mountain setting. It turns out that it also has a sizeable St. Paddy's day parade. Standing in line at the atm in town, the person in front of me and behind me started talking in true Irish brogues. It was legitimate.


Out in Hamburg, David Fisher's propane forge was running hot and his apprentice was busy brushing up a piece by the time I walked in at 7:45. The pieces that David was working on today were actually for a show tomorrow at Cabelas in Hamburg, PA. The reason he was able to work on these pieces today was because work is slow. The economy is slowing down and this little shop has felt it. Well, the shop isn't little at all. It's actually one of the larger shops that I've seen.

In a stark comparison I also stopped by the stained glass shop of Nic East. Nic East worked as a blacksmith in a fully staffed shop for thirty some years and then called it quits to retire in historic downtown Jim Thorpe, PA. Even though he had a considerable background in metal-working, it was clear that he had moved on. When I brought up blacksmithing, he introduced me to his current work, glass jewelry...

This one's for Gaskin.

The Leaning Barn

It's true to its name.

Dan Alexander turned out to be much more than a blacksmith. And I'm not merely talking about how the modern blacksmith is versatile and will usually take on anything from a fabrication job to a hand forged trellis to a repair job on a cast iron bell (Tim Beachley did the last one). I'm talking about how Dan put together his own jet-engine, built his own solar heating system, is fabricating his own gun, and is now making a clock for the house he is building.

Coming from a scientific background even he said that there is no connection between what he did and what he has been doing for the past fourteen years. Working in shop today with Dan was Allan, a religious studies major in college turned sculptor. He was encouraging, saying that he's been through a few recessions and has found there will always be a market for custom iron work. I pray that he's right.

Within this leaning barn that used to house horses and hay was one piece of equipment that begged your attention, the giant blue plasma cutter sitting in the corner. It was a beast, and supposedly is as expensive as you might think. In other news I have started making my Christmas wish list.. In due time I'll be sending it north, first class on the Polar Express..


This train blocked the path to Reed's Market in Lehighton where I picked up some food for the morning. Dark and early tomorrow I'll be heading to Hamburg, PA to meet with David Fisher.

A Dragon's Head and Gettysburg

At 7: 40 I woke up and put a new ticket on my dashboard in the parking lot across from the apartment. From 8-10 I gained a new appreciation for the West Wing, then from 10 till 11 I cleaned up and packed up my side of the apartment and left for Frederick, Maryland.

In Frederick I met Tim Beachley. His shop, much like others I have seen, was well outfitted and relatively comfortable. By putting money that he has made from jobs over the past eight years to tools and equipment, he's been able to work around having to get a loan for equipment and then having to find work to supplement his payments.

Even though he's only been smithing for eight years, his work is off the charts. He got into blacksmithing after taking a welding class and wanting to do more than work with well polished and machined metal. One thing led to another and he started to attend his local blacksmithing guild meetings and started putting out well-crafted work in no time.

One of the things that he has excelled at is creating dragon's heads. He's put them on the ends of fire pokers, fire-place brooms and shovels, bottle openers, door handles and now he has created a smoke stack for a grill that will be auctioned off at the next meeting of his local ABANA affiliate.



He started out with pipe, narrowed it at one end for the head and then started forging. His piece probably includes just as much welding as it does forged work. I believe he said that he had to punch out two hundred scales, which were eventually welded on. For the eyes of the dragon he used ball bearings inside of a few sheets of welded metal. He explained to me the way he created the definition on the lower jaw, but it is escaping me at the moment.

After talking for a long while and looking over his portfolio, we parted and I set on my way. My next destination was a hostel, but on the way a sign displaying, "Gettysburg 8 Miles" ultimately changed my course.

After parking at the old visitor's center I walked over a knoll and looked over the battlefield. The sun, low in the sky behind a curtain of clouds, managed to break through, illuminating the fields of Gettysburg in a lighting befitting of pastures where our ancestors fought and fell to one anothers' gun and sword. Walking over the cold, crunching grass of Cemetery Ridge I could only think of the lives of the Union men who were once there. Where I walked men fought; where I walked men died; where I walked men bled into the ground and grass, the same grass that grows today.




The wind was strong in the valley and as you looked out towards the mountains it would hit you like a wall of rushing soldiers. The magnitude of the thoughts and feelings I had was equalled by the breadth and depth of the landscape, the wind and monuments standing at once together and totally alone.

I left the fields of Gettysburg, wound my way through the Pine Grove Furnace State Park to where I find myself tonight.

Daniel Boone and Art Deco

Today I went to see Bill Allen, a blacksmith out in Clarksburg, Maryland. Wedged in between a few hills his red barn and smith shop prominently stuck out. As he came out to greet me he was looking around the car as if he was expecting another person. It's because he was; he was expecting my daughter. Somewhere in my phone call from Starbucks yesterday, over the sounds of blenders and GW students chatting, I guess it sounded like I wanted to bring my daughter.

Instead, I showed him my baby, my new 50$ pole vise. He said it looked good, with a little bit of love and care it could be restored to something like new.

Bill has been blacksmithing for fourteen years. He was first introduced to blacksmithing at a crafts fair where Dan Boone (a descendant of the Daniel Boone) had set up a portable smithy and was demonstrating how to create a dragon's head out of metal. Bill began asking questions and Dan eventually pointed him in the direction of his local chapter of ABANA. From there on out Bill took some classes and taught himself.

What I have found is that a basic knowledge in all things welding proves to be an invaluable skill. Most of Bill's joinery is done through welding. He has been welding since 1970, at least that is the date he purchased the oxyacetylene torch now sitting in his shop.

Tomorrow I'll be visiting Tim Beachley in Fredrick, Maryland. According to Bill, Tim is relatively young but really growing as a blacksmith.

Because I don't have any new pictures, here are some pictures of ironwork in Savannah that I never got to share:


I believe it fitting that SCAD building have a hand forged railing. One is able to tell that the railing was made by forge and hammer because the scrolls aren't symmetrical.

This picture is a little bit blurry but you are still able to see the detail that fascinated me. The fact is that in a city where all the architecture is stuck in the 19th century, this home-owner was able to install Art Deco inspired iron work.

Savannah to DC

Last Saturday, after a presentation by the SCAD admissions staff on how to create a portfolio I had the option of staying in Savannah for one more night. In fact, at the Savannah Pension, I had pre-paid to stay another night. I chose to leave.

Not only was I the only one staying in the Savannah Pension, but I started to realize that for forty dollars (or even ten more) I could have been staying in a place where the beds had sheets and the the owner didn't make it seem as if I was inconveniencing him by staying there. There was also the thing where he wouldn't refund me the money for Saturday night. Out of the forty I paid to stay in the "hostel," he gave me ten dollars back for "lunch." (Lunch would actually run me 11.80.) After the presentation I took off for familiar ground at the NotSo Hostel in Charleston, South Carolina.

The next day I drove for Virginia Beach. The picture I saw of Angie's Sea Side Hostel made it look as if it was set against the ocean in a sea of other small cottages. I expected something like a respite, a place that would help one find center and restore the creative juices. Little did I know that Virginia Beach is the self-proclaimed "largest resort-city in the world," and Angie's place was smack dab in the middle of it.



Sitting on a bench along the sea-sidewalk, I watched what seemed like hundreds of people walk by. I don't think I've ever been to a place so ripe for people watching, not even New York. In a few weeks I can see this place being flooded with kids indulging in the MTV spring break experience.

At the moment I am residing in Crystal City, Arlington, and after watching the season premier of Breaking Bad last night, all I can wonder about is if this city's name represents its drug of choice.

A Little bit of Everything

Last time I blogged I was in Savannah; I am now in Washington D.C. I haven't had a secure internet connection till now. I'm in the George Washington University Library which it turns out is student only. I'm banking on there being an internet connection later tonight because I don't have my cord with me to upload pictures and such. I feel another smorgasbord post coming on.

Walking the Trolley Route

Yesterday morning I grabbed a Savannah Trolley Tour brochure. Inside they had the path by which they were to show Savannah and so instead of paying 22 dollars I somewhat followed the tour on foot, for free.

I passed through River Street and saw the statue of the Girl in the Wind. Most of the bars and tourist traps were already displaying St. Patrick's day fare, including but not limited to "I got Riverfaced on Shit St. in Savannah on St. Patrick's Day" T-shirts. Not that anyone sober would actually buy that shirt. They also turned the water green in Forsythe Park:


With a few hours till I could get back into the hostel, I decided to spend a some time with the other sun-worshipers on the lawn of the park. Later I walked to a gallery opening. The gallery was displaying Wynne Hodges' Luminous Oak exhibit. Wynne Hodges is a professor at SCAD who learned blacksmithing at the John C. Campbell Folk School and created chandeliers inspired by the twisting, turning, and looming oaks of Savannah:


I talked with her for a little and she turned out to be a very down to earth art-professor. She does not worry herself with the craft vs art debate and instead makes things that satisfy her artistic passion and possibly the appetites of potential buyers. Thus she creates functional art.

After the gallery I was invited by a Parisian, who I friended in the NotSo Hostel, to a concert that his friend was putting on. It turns out his friend was in a production called Seeing Sound where a small pit orchestra provides the inspiration for artists to paint in real time before a crowd. I think I enjoyed the music more so than the painting.

On each of the blank pieces the artists put masking tape in intersecting lines and patterns. I originally thought they would wait to pull off the tape till the very end thus exposing strict uninhibited straight lines in a piece of commotion and inspired strokes, dabs, splatters and sprays. However, they took off the tape half way through and ruined what I thought were to be works of art. And then there was the artist's painting on the far right, it looked like she was trying to capture the essence of vomit, with an ice scraper.

Being able to spend some more time talking with Jean-Luc was good. He's an artist himself and works two days a week in Paris selling "ghetto-clothes" to discoteque-going-teens and other young people. What I found most entertaining is he thought that when Americans talked they sort of sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher.

Savannah Take Two

I drove down on 17 from Charleston to Savannah yesterday with my windows open. Today I am wearing shorts and shorts sleeves and already, it feels like 60 something.

Yesterday was not nearly as nice, warm in the sun and cool in the shade. The park is already green, the flowers are flowering and the spirit feels somewhat lifted not to have the burden of a slow transition from late winter to spring to summer:

Savannah has it, the perfect layout. Victorian houses surrounding beautiful square parks. And if you don't live on Forsythe Park or another one, you're only a small walk away. I can see myself spending some time on a bench today.

I looked into SCAD yesterday and found that they have a penchant for taking over old religious buildings and turning them into student work space (i.e. the Scot Rite Temple and the old Synagogue). But truthfully, its like the RISD of the south. After my tour I set out to talk with Prof. Huang of the Architecture department. A case of bad directions and thirty minutes later I found the architecture building, a security officer who is going to pray for my acceptance into the college, and a realization that architecture might not be for me. A fact that was disclosed to me was that most Architecture majors who graduated last year have been laid off. I suppose that makes sense seeing as how the housing market has been having a few ups and downs.

I should get off of this coffee-house couch and see Savannah.

Work of my Classmates

Fun fact, posts don't post themselves. Forgot to hit the "publish post" button yesterday.. So without further ado, yesterday's post:

What I didn’t get to photograph was Paul’s Plant hanger he made for his garden. My camera died the moment I was about to snap the shutter. It was a longer take on the rest of our plant hangers and had a neat decorative twist in the “leg.” At the base, for stability, he joined a spike by a mortise and tenon joint, another method of joinery Susan taught us.

On most of our plant hangers we used a simple strap hinge to attach the decorative twists:

This is a picture of my unfinished plant hanger. The best way to describe strap hinges is by comparing them to metal band aids. They are thin strips of metal formed to fit snugly against the pieces that they are holding.

Above is Jennifer’s final work that she put on display at the “show and tell.” She chose to make an S -scroll to place inside of her plant hanger. Also pictured is her coat rack and a fire poker and two other decorative objects.

What was really cool about her fire poker is that it included three forge welds. Forge welds are what they sound like, welds made with a forge and a coal fire. The end, which didn’t come out so well in this picture, was actually four pieces of quarter inch steel welded together at the ends so to allow the middle to freely move when heated. When the quarter inch pieces are welded like so they can be twisted and “opened up.” The third forge weld was made to connect the four pieces of quarter inch stock to a half inch piece of stock with a split at the end to handle logs. A better picture of the handle part is below.

These were Jeff’s final pieces. He actually opened up his twist to allow room for marbles. Also, note the drawer pulls that he created. He worked meticulously to make matching sets.

Yesterday I woke up early to go up to talk with a professor at the American College of the Building Arts. Its a relatively new college, started up after Hurricane Hugo hit, when the city of Charleston realized that they didn't have any local crafts people to do the massive amounts of needed restoration work. The iron program is in the hands of Jay Close who ran the blacksmithing program at Colonial Williamsburg for the past 30 years. According to Lance Crowe, the other professor, the job of master-smith at Williamsburg is a coveted position.

The college is small but made up of a unique group of focused individuals. Because most people hear about the college through the internet around 20 or more states are represented..

Today, Wednesday, was an exercise in relaxation. The weather took a turn for the better and it was just about 50 or so with a cool breeze. I spent the the day reading Hemingway's short stories, swinging in the hammock and napping. Tomorrow I go back to Savannah and into a welcome warm front.

The Alley Ways of Charleston

I promised the pictures of my classmates' work. I'll get those up tomorrow, this post is long enough.

A Smorgasbord

Even though I have been blogging everyday I feel as though I am behind on what I want to share. This blog and the next few might be somewhat of a smorgasbord of pictures, captions and thoughts.

Finding myself under the weather in Savannah, literally (it was raining, gusting wind and cold), I hiked up to Charleston a day earlier than had planned:


While at the John C. Campbell I had the chance to collaborate with Anne, a clay sculptor. Anne was from Florida and was building a miniature bird house and needed a plant hanger for the outside of her house. The hanger that I made is barely visible but if you look closely it is to the left of the doorway.


Our class created a lot of plant hangers as a way of practicing the fundamental techniques of making a sharp corner, scrolling, tapering, and attaching by using strap hinges. This is the second of my two hangers. In my next post you will be able to see some of my classmates'.

Traveling from the mountains of North Carolina to the lowlands of the Georgian coast I decided to swing into an antique store (an antique junk-yard might be a more apt description). Sitting there in the open were three blacksmithing/post vices. The proper vice for blacksmithing has a leg that extends to the floor so to allow the shock to be absorbed not only by the "latch" attaching it to a table but by the ground. I believe this vice is of English make and is about three to four feet tall. I haggled this puppy down to fifty dollars..

Savannah

I've reached it, the city that Sherman didn't raze to the ground. It's beautiful. Like something out of every person's quintessential thoughts of the olde south. The buildings are stagnant in time, trying to remain upright and in tact through the rain, heat and humidity. Moss stretching from trees and green leaves like rich pieces of candy hang lazily in the wind.

The rain only recently let up and the night has become somewhat cool. I'm staying in the Savannah Pension, a second story apartment in an old residential building turned hostel. I'm the first and only guest of the season. This is one of those places that you know you will return to.

John C. Campbell is also one of those places I will return to. The people there were wonderful and welcoming. The pieces that people created.. Such a depth of talent and creativity came out during the course of the week. Among those creative minds was Joey, the Alaskan boat-builder. Here he is holding one of his pieces:


He started by bending flat stock to create a box and then proceeded to forge a metal in-lay based upon the mythological Norse tree of life. He knew what he wanted to create and was able to create it without much planning. If I'm not mistaken the box isn't complete, I believe he is going to continue forging decorative pieces around the other sides.

I was glad I was able to talk to him as much as I did. At 19 he was in the amazon with a friend or two floating down the river on a raft that they created with the machetes they carried. He's been apple picking in New Zealand, hitch hiked with his girlfriend from NY to Montreal, worked on a pig farm in England and so much more. He has become learned through travel, funded by bouts of work, much like what I did to get to where I am now. A fun fact, he plans to turn those pants that he is wearing in the picture into chaps; they're so hardened by god knows what kind of oils and dirt and debris that they're unwearable without long johns underneath..

Sitting around or driving for long periods of time listening to regional radio stations, it has dawned on me that when you're in the south you have to listen to country music. When you're anywhere else you can choose your poison. Its something about being in the place where the music comes from. Perhaps you can understand it better. I'm listening to Joe Purdy at the moment. He's more folk than country but his voice comes from the mountains, and anywhere there is mountains, good music is made.

The banjo (pronounced banjar) making instructor at the folk school actually left where ever he was from to spend years up in the mountains of North Carolina to learn classical banjo from those who came out of the womb with one in hand.

I'm signing off here and will be back to blog tomorrow.

Yesterday

We finished up in the forge cleaned up shop, showed off our work, ate, listened to the Redhead Express, sat around, talked and spent the night in a wonderful fashion.

The class was in overdrive yesterday, and it wasn't until all the work was done that it hit us. After a week of constant smithing, eating, and socializing with people from all over the US and Canada, we found that we were a little bit more tired than we thought. Although, a few cups of coffee seemed to fix that problem.

The piece that I'm most proud of is the re-creation of Whittaker's coat rack. I've sort of come to terms with recreating pieces. I suppose its like learning painting through re-creating Monet, Sargent or Malevich..

Thanks goes out to Verne for his input, Jennifer for holding the thousand degree metal while I upset (formed) the ends, and Susan Hutchinson my instructor who was great about my constantly asking questions.

The work done by my classmates was fantastic. Basically everyone besides Joe was a beginner. I might wait till tomorrow to throw their work up on the blog. At the moment I'm about ready to head off for Savannah.

A Moment to Spare

I've caught the blacksmithing bug. I'm here writing but would rather have a hammer in my hand, an anvil to my right and a forge to my left. Today has most likely been the most productive day in the shop. Early on Paul, the resident blacksmith (a job smiths would die for), came in and helped me with my hammer grip. He and Susan, my instructor for the week, both trained with Uri Hoffi, an Israeli smith. Uri not only patented a way of striking, but makes his own hammers. Every now and then he travels to the US, teaches classes, and visits smiths. I looked into his classes but was somewhat swayed by the hefty price tag..

Last night while talking to my parents they suggested I make a new coat rack for the basement, so I did. Rather, I should say I have been building it and hope to finish it tonight. My coat rack is based off of Francis Whittaker's. From what I've gleaned, Francis Whittaker was the head smith while the Folk School was being put together. You can see his coat racks in the dining room down the hall where one drops off his plates.

I've just finished the hooks and need to brush the scale (the flaky stuff that forms when the steel oxidizes). If I want to finish tonight, I must get back to the shop..

Getting Closer

I'm finally putting together finalized pieces. The tongs that you're about to see aren't complete, I still have to put a rivet through the flat pieces behind the "jaws."

The heart is held against the hanger with strap hinges.

Hooks

Tongs

This is another heart, actually the heart that I placed in the plant hanger.

What I've Done

An unnecessarily large fire.

A work in progress

A Texas Nose picker

A "pineapple twist"

Coat Rack, turned out to be a Pi symbol