"Ni s'asservir, ni se servir, mais servir" - to be skillful, free and generous

"The 'moderns' are incapable of experiencing the sacred in their relations with matter; they can, at best, have an experience of a dreamlike or aesthetic order; they are especially capable of knowing matter as a 'natural phenomenon' (...) The desacralization of work constitutes a living plague in the body of modern society." - Mircea Eliade

"The Sumerian word AN-BAR, the earliest vocabulary designating iron, is made up of the pictographic signs "sky" and "fire". The word is generally translated as 'heavenly metal' or 'metal-star' (...), 'heavenly lightning' (of the meteor)."

In the epic songs of the Turks and Mongol tribes, "forger" ("darkhan") also means "hero" or "free". Between "craftsman" and "poet", sometimes also translated as "maker", there is a semantic neighborhood. A whole series of correspondences throughout the ages bring together the profession of the maker and that of the musician and poet. In Spain, according to some researchers, links can be traced between the beginnings of the flamenco music genre and the rhythms of the hammers in the forges. According to legend, the ability to speak well and compose songs is associated with blacksmiths. Here there were blacksmith-players and blacksmiths who made musical instruments. Gypsy blacksmiths are generally singers and bards. The blacksmith therefore played an important role in the creation and dissemination of epic poetry.

Not unimportant is the fact that the forger is usually the craftsman and architect of the gods. And now down to earth, let us make it clear that the blacksmith is the blacksmith, the coppersmith or the horseshoer of our times. And in Romanian, as the dictionaries tell us, 'farrier' is equivalent to 'poet', 'the person who has the gift of forging'. February is also known as 'the month of the farrier' or 'the month of the blacksmiths', because this is when the tools for ploughing are being perfected.

In some people's beliefs, the blacksmith, the potter and the shaman have always been blood brothers. They all learned to master the material, they all got a taste of the creator and learned not only how to make something faster than nature, but also how to bring something new into nature, something that did not exist before.

A number of myths here speak of creative sacrifice, where you cannot give life without giving your own in return.

Matter

The iron that comes from meteorites, often referred to as 'God's axe', 'lightning tooth or stone' or simply 'celestial metal', was charged with magical powers, it came from above, so it represented the sky and could work miracles.

An Iranian myth shows us another possible origin of the metals in the bowels of the earth: they were born from the body of a supernatural sacrifice: "when Gayomar, the primordial man, gave up his soul, eight kinds of metallic minerals came from his limbs, namely: gold, silver, iron, brass, brass, brass, lead, quicksilver and diamond".

In the case of many cultures, we are dealing with a path of the suffering of matter: it is born, it grows, it dies, it revives, it can be sown and grow in fertile soil; at the same time, left alone, it can be replenished in exploitation. Matter 'labors' with all the things of this world.

The closeness to matter is of a magical-religious nature, and that is why secrets are passed on through initiation rites.

Blacksmithing is a sensory territory, craftsmanship is a mystery, it is passed on involving a sum of rituals or "stealing". Things are deformed according to your own body and the way you approach matter. Communication between maker and matter is complete; man gives flesh to a thought, using his whole being.

Tools

Few people know that the blacksmith's forge in Țibănești has emerged as the most handy craft workshop that can be made - almost all tools can be forged (forged) in time. Everything can start with an anvil, a hammer, a forge. That's why, for me, always, tools have been divided into creative and created, all subordinate to fire.

"It may rain on me, but not on the bard and the saw" - Joel Hendry, carpenter.

"As you love them, so they serve you. A man sees himself in his tools. They are his mirror" - Constantin Iancău, tailor.

"Tools are an extension of my body, I recompose myself with and through tools. Like a protective shell" - Paul Botescu, sculptor.

"A tool is not something you give up easily, it is part of you, it is your continuation as a human being. You, with your body, you use the tool as an extension of your mind" - Mariana Stoia, blacksmith owner.

"The moment you see 10 people hammering, you can clearly see the difference between them, in their attitude, in the way you approach the unknown, in the way, for the first time in your life, you do something - you are extraordinarily honest, so you can't do it any other way and it shows in that who you really are - how you hit, how you hold those pieces, where you look, how you approach that thing, what you do when it doesn't come out. You're exactly who you are there, you can't hide in something like that, you have to be you and the best part is that you yourself see who you are" - Liviu Gligor.

The project started in a historical monument house confiscated in 1949 and turned into a ruin. The recovery of this property relied on finding ways to creatively recycle it, on a change of function, from a residence to a study center for traditional crafts and architecture. The context: a poor Moldova, not integrated into a tourist circuit, where the lack of local cultural offerings for young people is a reality; moreover, in the world of architecture, there are signs of the disappearance of craftsmen and the absence of a territory for experimentation.

All of this has led, step by step, to what is now called "Ironing the Manor House", a project that started with the blacksmith's workshop and has over time encompassed workshops in fresco, traditional lime, clay and dung plastering, straw bale insulation, stove and oven construction, vegetable weaving, metalwork, carpentry and pottery.

The manor house, the workshop and the objects are imprinted by the people who worked on the project, discovering with us that the real stake is not the restoration of the manor house, but of the community.

The blacksmith's forge was a natural start, fueled by the needs of the site to be regenerated and by the friendship with the blacksmith companions, traveling journeymen, who pass on various traditional crafts.

The new smithy was born after a long series of observations and a visit to the village of Șona, to Lazăr's smithy, where I noticed the importance of occupying a central point in the village. The forge was moved as part of a cultural project that aimed to creatively transform a space in 7 days. The space is separated from a place for the community by a glass showcase, from where you can watch how the work is done, as the anvil and forge were placed right next to the showcase.

The effect of the showcase, of separation and union, of limit and dialog, is very strong. Many experiences have already been gathered that have shown us the power of attraction of this view through a very large keyhole and the possibility of using the space for very different things, including contemporary dance or shadow theater, as first ideas.

A small bench was added to the facade of the blacksmith's shop on the street side, the usefulness of which was later verified, as someone is always sitting here, it plays exactly the role of the bench in front of the house in the villages. In the courtyard, we tried a reinterpretation of the pediment, with protectors, tin animals from the fantastic world of blacksmithing.

In the manor house, materials are tested with the body, with the hand, the hammer leaves marks in the palm of the hand, iron is beaten with sweat, clay is beaten with the foot. This is the only way to understand the material and to get away from the formalism of a drawing on paper or computer. By experiencing direct contact with the materials, you see how complex the consequences of a line can really be, you understand the whole path, and you become more responsible towards the sheet of paper, yourself and the potential user.

In the workshops at the manor we learned not to look for recipes and universally valid formulas, but to judge each case on its own, how important is the context of using a material, that it must be worked correctly and taking into account its properties, letting the hands imprint it and fill it with content.

The music/rhythm of the hammers opens up a dowry of mysteries and endless prefacements. Leaving Țibănești, you get the feeling that without the sound of the anvil, the world is mute.

Blacksmiths

"To have a history is to come from somewhere. When you know where you've come from, you're becoming. To have a history is to be situated in the great history. This is, without doubt, the only way to survive in the course of time" - Les Compagnons du Devoir et du Tour de France.

Every year, a journeyman blacksmith, a traveling journeywoman, a descendent of the cathedral builders of the Middle Ages, comes to Țibănești to pass on the craft to the village's pupils. The journey around France, the practice of perfecting the skills of the companions, has today become a journey around Europe, and Țibănești has become a living point in the transmission of the blacksmith's craft. The companions are young, dedicated people, full of vitality and passion; we have had, in order, a blacksmith, a trumpeter, a philosopher, a badminton player, a boxer, a climber, an acrobat, a dancer. They come from all over France in their traveling capsule - a van large enough to carry blacksmiths' work and to serve as a home and mobile workshop - and through their travels they are all seeking a threefold formation: professional, cultural and human.

The traveling crate (each blacksmith has a crate of his own in which the minimum necessary for a blacksmithing demonstration must fit), the guild poem, the exercises passed on, the way the blacksmith's shop looks are an intersection between the specifics of the place, working with architects and the culture of the guild they come from.

Alexandra Mihailciuc