From the Village Smithy to Accomplished Artist
Steel and iron was critical in all phases of life, not just in heroic scale and use. The village blacksmith ensured the economic survival of early America, making (and repairing) the implements and equipment used in farming, business, and the household. Even the most mundane ironwork – shoeing horses to work the fields or provide transportation – required his talents.

Prior to the Civil War, an uncommon relationship developed between masters and those slaves who had ironworking skills at one plantation: Buffalo Forge, near Lexington, Virginia. Under William Weaver, the forge’s pragmatic master, slave ironworkers, with their specialized knowledge so essential for the operation, had a measure of power over their master – and a degree of control over their own lives. Once they met their quotas, the slaves were even allowed to produce overwork, for which they were paid. Some even had bank accounts.
After industrialization, when much of the needed ironwork could be provided through factory systems, blacksmiths reinvented themselves, putting their hand-forging talents to more creative endeavors.

H. Van Buren Magonigle, Samuel Yellin (maker), Flower Basket, detail of door Grille for the McNair Residence, New York, NY, c. 1915, Courtesy of Cranbrook Art Museum

In central North Dakota, a dazzling array of intricately embellished hand-crafted wrought iron crosses can still be seen in cemeteries or family grave sites, a long-established, German-Russian tradition. Some were made by highly skilled blacksmiths whose names are known; others by unknown artisans. Together they display a balance of cultural tradition and individual creativity. They are also fast disappearing, some by vandalism, and others by the fierce winds and snows that rip across the open fields where they were placed.

Up and down the East Coast, the use of wrought iron became fashionable for fences and gates. Southern cities, in particular, appreciated the genteel waves and curves that could be accomplished with a hammer, tongs, and a forge. Indeed, the architectural greatness of communities like Savannah and Charleston, is due in large part to their decorative ironwork gates, fences, and balconies on the well-preserved homes fronting its tree-lined streets.

Philip Simmons, Detail of Iron Gate, Courtesy Philip Simmons Foundation, Steve Uzzell photograph

In Charleston, it is the 95-year-old Philip Simmons who, almost single-handedly, maintained that tradition in the last half of the 20th century. About his handiwork Simmons has said, “The old work was good. The scrolls were curved nice and round. If you see it curve like that it’s either two hundred years old or I did it.” He has not only created over 200 iron installations, but has made sure that there will be other craft artists who will follow him into the 21st.

PAGE 1 : 2 : 3 : 4