Maker

Hammer Time

Making the antiques of the future at Black Dog Forge. By Kirsten Anderson

THE HIP BELLTOWN NEIGHBORHOOD of Seattle is an eclectic mix of old and new, where the last remnants of seedy bars and artist enclaves are uncomfortably tucked between new high-rise luxury condos and trendy restaurants. While the streets are becoming lined with high-priced boutiques, one particular alley of Belltown still retains its former bohemian allure.

Nestled amongst spray-painted murals and dumpsters is a purple door with a wrought iron gate. Above it perches a rusted metal skeleton pounding on an anvil. In the doorway a massive Rottweiler sits sentry, while the strains of Hank Williams’ lonely croon float in the air, mixed with the clink and ring of metal on metal. You’re at Black Dog Forge, where an ancient art is practiced in the

26 Make: Volume 11

middle of a city famous for cutting-edge technology.

The Forge, in its current incarnation, consists of blacksmiths Louie Raffloer and Mary Reid Gioia. Raffloer started the Forge in 1991. Originally a photographer, Raffloer was out one day drumming up work when he stumbled across a neighborhood blacksmith’s shop. He was instantly hooked. Most blacksmiths would agree that it’s an art that chooses you, rather than the other way around; Raffloer took a job in the shop, where he learned the foundations of his current profession. He eventually opened a few small forges before finally settling down with Black Dog.

Smithing goes back to ancient times, yet was almost rendered obsolete during the Depression as many big clients of blacksmiths went broke. The

Photograph by Kirsten Anderson