Ararat Forge / Garry Kalajian
“There is hardly anything in the world that some man cannot make a little worse and sell a little cheaper, and the people who consider price only, are this man’s lawful prey.” – John Ruskin
Consider the craft of blacksmithing. What it actually takes to become proficient. The level of nuance and hidden detail is nothing short of eyebrow-raising. Not only is one attempting to create things of value from the act of striking hot metal with a hammer – but the sphere of intellect and precision that one must reside in while engaging with that action, is the reason we don’t know a lot of blacksmiths. They’re rare. It takes brain, brawn, and finesse.
The first time I met Garry Kalajian (two R’s, Kah-LAY-jzhee-an) was around 2016. I took an Intro To Blacksmithing course at Sanborn Mills Farm in Loudon, NH. I liked Garry before the end of our first handshake. Fast forward a few years, we come to this day.
I rekindled our acquaintanceship, having come across an anvil in need of repair. We got to chatting a couple times over the phone. Things blossomed and I thought some time with him would be a massive photographic opportunity. A craftsman, in his shop, surrounded by tools and experience; you’d have trouble coming away without a decent photo. Trouble is, he’s a moving target in low light. Couple that with the fact that all the lights are mixed, it’s a recipe for challenge. Let’s dance.
Garry is a man of distinguishment. He’s one of those people that is as smart as he looks. But he has the patience, grace, and curiosity, to let it organically reveal itself. He’s also a profound listener, you can see it on his face when conversating. The exact same thing happens when witnessing his strength. You generally assume he’s strong because he’s a blacksmith. Then you watch him load an anvil and it’s accompanying base onto a pickup truck, and realize he could probably break both of your hands by squeezing them with one of his. But he wouldn’t do that.
He’s been blacksmithing for about 30 years. Imagine the number of instances in which he’s lit the forge. He was just as giddy to light it on this day. Tickled about the smoke that comes out of the chimney when it first gets going; before the coal is white hot and burning clean. I took heed of his recommendation to witness the event and followed him outside. For only a few moments, like the contrails of a man’s thoughts, one continuous pillar of bone-dense smoke billowed out of the stack. The day begins.
The workspace is perfect. It’s industrial but doesn’t feel “hard.” It’s much larger than I thought. Roomy, actually. I learned very quickly that there is a lot of movement in his craft. He goes from the forge, to a foot-powered hammering device called a treadle hammer, to the vice, to the bench. Over and over. Heating and reheating. Checking and re-checking. Very rarely speaking, there’s a relaxed intensity to his workflow.
Being within the orbit of his timing, hand-eye coordination and overall command of the space was like being on stage during a moderately dangerous ballet. Choreographed but not sterile. Fluid but focused. Having seen him “work” at Sanborn was one thing; but he’s really invested into the teaching at those events. This time, he was actually working. Witnessing the skilled use their skill is always a delight.
Today Garry was putting some final touches on a slide bolt door latch. This type of bolt uses a long, flat spring to hold and release tension. These are finicky to make, but a joy to use. The sliding action and the feel of the spring has to be perfect. At one point he explained how he had been making them for decades, but only recently discovered something. The spring needs a very particular spacing to be set, as the metal cools. So he now uses a steel ruler to slide behind the spring as everything comes to temperature. We discussed the fact that he very well may be the only human being on earth to ever do that.
As the day progressed, something occurred to me. On the whole, people don’t value this. You may think you do, I may have thought I did. But the difference between admiration, and real value, become bone-jarringly apparent when you’re close enough to feel the heat. I admire Garry. I admire blacksmiths. I like the idea of being a blacksmith. But lack the specifically tuned, creative drive to become one at any level of note. I don’t actually own any hand wrought ironwork. Save for my two small decorative pieces from the intro class. They’re neat: but they were not made by a craftsman.
This is not a finger-wagging op-ed about “throw away society” or some sort of guilt-trip. I just want to take a moment to express, that whatever handcraft you value, it’s absolutely critical that you really consider the person behind it. And I don’t just mean their personality, being likable and capable. But to literally equate your dollars, and your lack of ability to create the thing, to their sweat-inducing, brow-furrowing, hand-gnarling work.
We talked about the “Youtube-ifciation” of craft. Which, let me make this very clear – is amazing. I’ve learned a lot, and tried a lot, from Youtube. But after being with Garry I realized not everything that you admire creatively, needs to be “DIY”. It is very likely that you live within a reasonable driving distance of someone who is shockingly skilled at the thing you want to try. And, they very likely want to share that skill with someone who wants to learn it. Get to know them, purchase their wares, support their work and their life. You are one conversation away from an heirloom, an incredible experience, and a new friend.
Garry makes things large and small. Gates, chandeliers, big decorative pieces, etc. All of it stunning. My personal favorites have to do with lifestyle. Door handles and hinges, kitchen utensils, candle holders, numbers and letters. Things you can pick up, things you will interact with daily. And, much more importantly – things that will literally last longer than you. Don’t think about “spending X on a spatula.” Think about the fact that you just purchased a spatula, for your life. As well as several other lifetimes. When viewed through that prism, these items simultaneously become less expensive, and immeasurably more valuable.
