U FORGIARU "of Pianopoli. story of Joe Fagan
A figure completely disappeared in our country, as in many others, is that "du furgiaru", the blacksmith. I "forgiari" of Pianopoli were: Antonio Francesco Palmieri master and his brother Master Mico (Dominic) Palmieri, who came every day to walk from Feroleto Pianopoli and whose laboratory the "mold" was located in an old warehouse next to 'current war memorial.
A second "mold" was owned by another family Palmieri (cousins \u200b\u200bof the first), also from Feroleto. This "mold" was found in an old mill by way of Independence (known at the time "Via do fuessu). Both workshops were very picturesque.
Through a small rickety door gave access to the first" mold ", located in via Sorrows, which was a small room, humidity and a lit. On the contrary the second workshop, at Independence, was a room large and spacious.
Both had an enormous strain on the middle of the room with the anvil and the face of this there was the "mold" itself, or the forge. pincers were scattered everywhere, hammers, pieces of iron sheets and hammers.
The "forgiaro" lived and worked hard all day in this workshop. He spent hours and hours of hard effort to beat the iron and argue, and only when the tool was complete he allowed himself a moment's pause.
usually in the shop there was always some disciple or some aide-de-passage.
Very often, especially in the harsh winter days, 'to forge "became a gathering place for passersby to cold and curious.
After a few 'years of master Antonio Francesco Palmieri and his brother moved their laboratory in a room more spacious, to the current war memorial (a few meters from the old lab) where it remained until its closure.
missing from my country for ten years, and when I returned for a short visit, I was told that the "mold" Independence Street had been closed for some time. During his stay, one morning as I walked in the streets, as every day, I passed the "mold" of Master "frascantoni" Francesco Antonio Palimeri, by way of Sorrows.
Because every morning I always felt the sound of the beating hammer on the anvil, attracted and intrigued I looked out the front door "du forgiaru. Admiration and amazement I saw an iron forging 's ass with a special skill, which nailed me there until the job is done.
data on iron shots I made the glowing forge, alternating with the shrill the heavy steel anvil, a continuous rhythm, always the same. Immediately after you hit the iron, the aide "forgiaro" with a heavy club and a clothes pin has to obtain the small holes which would then be served to secure the nail to the base. Despite a sharp blow, I stayed there watching admired the work of "forgiaro", without bothering the deafening noise caused by the sequence of perfect shots. From time to time, the iron was dipped in the hot coals, and staining sparks. The coals were kept burning through the breath of a manual fan driven by a young apprentice.
keeps on hitting and the iron was shaped like a miracle: it was out the exact measure to be applied "to the 'donkey'.
Among the many "forgiari" there were some called the "master", that is true with artists who knew the iron to create true works of art.
the evening, after the enormous effort the "forgiari" he allowed himself a glass of wine more, and returned home a little 'staggering both for alcohol and for the enormous physical fatigue. They went to bed very soon, their days, in fact, they were terribly long and tiring and the awakening had to be in perfect shape. (The souvenir photos made in 1968).
