I wonder if anybody has ever pondered the influence of music on metalsmithing?
I was in the middle of doing some filing on a large project last night, and noticed, not for the first time, that the rhythm of my filing matched the beat of the music on my iPod. That’s hardly a unique observation, but it caused me to wonder about all the other musical references in metalwork, especially raising.
Raising is an incredibly rhythmic thing. It’s also a performance art on occasion, especially when several smiths are working together in one room: their hammer blows naturally fall into a rhythm. Not a static drone, but a dynamic beat, with each smith aware of the timing and force of the others. Frequently there’s a sense of almost communication in the ringing of the hammers. The group energy definitely makes it easier to carry on the work, like a group marching together: it’s easy to get lost in the rhythm, and carried along by it. I’ve always found it an oddly joyous noise, at least when everybody’s working well. It’s a very good indicator of the mental state of the group. This sort of experience is becoming more and more rare, as there are fewer places where groups of silversmiths might work together. Even the language of silversmithing refers to music: stanzas & rounds, for example.
We’ve all had the experience of working to the beat of whatever music we’re listening to at a given time. Almost every working shop I’ve ever been in has had a music of some sort going. We all seem to do it. Wonder what influence it’s had?
In my case, the answer is obvious: I have several pieces that are direct reactions to song lyrics. Things I dreamed up while working on something else, listening to music.
One of the things I miss most from college are boring lecture classes. Really. An hour or more, bored silly, stuck with a pen and paper in front of me. Some of my best designs of that period started out as doodles in the margins of my class notes. It’s a very good way to free your mind of distractions, and let you just draw. You’re stuck there, you can’t go anywhere, or do much of anything else, so it’s easy to disconnect the mind and let the pen create, without the stress of worrying about dinner, or the next meeting, or whatever.
In a weird sort of way, a lot of bench work is like that too: it takes a certain part of your mind to handle the repetitive task, like filing, but it frees the rest of your mind to think. To listen to the music, and ponder. To design in your head, while you’re working. I can’t be the only one who works that way. I wonder how the music that we all listen to has influenced our pieces?
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
I’m a big fan of music in the workshop. I listen to a lot of electronic music, so people do often compare it to the sound of the machinery…
In a less direct way, I think a sense of rhythm is important for forging metal – placing the hammer with regular, counted strikes, all of the same force is really the only way to do it well. I often think that drummers would make good metalsmiths… If I’m really lucky, the rhythm takes over, and I can sort of relax and let my body do the hammering.
Some people hate music in the workshop, however. Their loss, although I’ve heard some good arguments based on listening to the tools and materials instead, to see what they’re doing (I feel the vibrations instead).
Very interesting, Brian!
I think you are right. You are NOT the only person who works that way. I have also noticed that I can return to a piece of my work months later, finished or not, and remember exactly what I was listening to when I created it. Hmm.
I was taught to forge to a rhythm, and I can’t forge any other way. It seems to be the mechanism that keeps each blow on track. Yes, that’s it! Music makes my aim better!
Thanks for your post.
ginger meek allen
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