[TheForge] Local smithy in the news!

[Ben Barrett]

Howdy folks -- sorry this article appears to have no pictures online,
the printed ones were great.  I am so proud since this is where I got
started, just down the street.  Enjoy!!
(it came through about 90% correct which seems excellent for standard
newspapers)

http://projects.registerguard.com:8080/updates/21411/

Copy of article text below, just in case this link breaks:

Secrets of the forge 				 				 					
By Kurt Madar 				 				 					
For The Register-Guard 				 				
Published 1 week, 1 day ago at midnight PT 				

Blacksmithing is not likely to make Mark "Bear" Diriwachter rich any
time soon. But the Springfield craftsman is devoted to the forge and
to sharing its secrets.

"A disease - hot, dirty and dangerous," is how Diriwachter describes it.

Nevertheless, every Thursday evening Diriwachter opens his smithy to
others who love working with metal. Whether they've never seen an
anvil before, or are accomplished blacksmiths - it doesn't matter in
the shop. What matters is the passion for the work and the creative
exchange among participants - what matters is metal.

"For modern blacksmiths, it is an unwritten code, an unwritten oath,
to share ideas," Diriwachter said, opening his big hand to emphasize
the point. In the past, he said, blacksmiths would have kept their
trade secrets to themselves, but to help keep the art alive, he and
his fellow blacksmiths reach out and share what they know.

When Diriwachter opened his shop to others three years ago, however,
he had another motive as well - to save newcomers from suffering the
difficulties of his own early years working the forge.

"I was entirely self-taught," he recalled, describing his excitement
on first watching blacksmiths at work at a gathering for traditional
skills at Glass Butte in Central Oregon. He was 26.

"I thought, if they can do that, so can I."

Fired up, he left his archaeology studies at Oregon State University,
spent six months reading about blacksmithing, and then set out to
learn the craft by trial and error.

A large man with strong arms and sturdy legs, Diriwachter is known as
Bear to his friends and acquaintances. He fits the stereotype of a
blacksmith, long locks and all. He grew up in Liverpool, N.Y.,
traveled throughout the country as a young man, and in 1992 settled in
Eugene. Now 36, he lives and works on the same property in Glenwood.

A blacksmith's main tools are few and simple: the forge to heat the
metal, the hammer to beat it into shape, the anvil to support the
metal while it's shaped, the leg vice to hold the hot metal in place.

Diriwachter's smithy is a place of ringing hammers, red-hot metal and
spitting sparks, the air thick with the smells of hot metal and burned
coal. At a recent open shop, two blacksmiths worked at the forge while
a novice operated the hand crank ventilator.

"We used to have an electric fan, but the noise made talking hard,"
Diriwachter said, raising his voice above the excited conversation,
which can be about anything other than politics and religion - one of
open shop's few rules.

The art of forging metal was once central to farming and industry, to
the making of tools, weapons and equipment, but now it is most often
used in art, architecture and in historical re-creations such as Civil
War re-enactments.

Bear's main income is for architectural pieces such as his current
commission, a large wrought-iron gate that, despite its size, suggests
old-fashioned elegance.

Such commissions earn him a modest living, he said, but "blacksmithing
isn't something I do for money," he said.

The work, like opening his shop free to others every week, is done for
the love of the skill and a desire to keep it alive. He also thinks
the diversity of the group that gathers under his smithy roof is
important.

"We have all types that show up for the open shop, yet no matter how
opposed their world views, the love of metal-working creates a bridge
that goes beyond prejudice and political viewpoint."

Though he considers himself primarily a craftsman, Diriwachter has
made an art of taking the metal detritus of our culture and reworking
it into attractive and useful new forms.

"My favorite metal is always old metal. With old metal, there is no
need to create a finish. Time has already done that," he said. "Even
my tools are all over 100 years old."

Because the shop is small and the work is dangerous, Diriwachter
limits the number of participants.

Owen Moore, son of a blacksmith and a new member, arrived through
serendipity. When he lamented the lack of smithy access, a friend
provided an e-mail address that he said might help. Moore sent a
message, and received simple directions to Bear's shop and a time to
show up.

As it turns out, Diriwachter doesn't do e-mail, and Moore still
doesn't know the identity of the mysterious contact.

"Bear encourages personal exploration," Moore said, cranking the
ventilator handle. "Sometimes for simple tasks he gives the wrong
approach to see if I'm thinking, but he never lets me go wrong."