
The Workshop
The roots of my workshop go back to 1968, when my father began working as a forger, shortly before opening the workshop itself. It stands beside a small country chapel, on top of a hill in the Monregalese, in what used to be the parish house. Today I make keys for antique safes, and handmade knives. Made by hand, and made to measure.

My father began to give shape to iron with those extraordinary hands of his, which model metal at the forge. He has the ability to press the shape of his ideas into it with a naturalness all his own. That is how his work in iron, copper, silver and gold comes about: forged in charcoal, with no drawing and no plan. The rough piece changes, passes through shapes that have no name yet, and then the idea comes alive in its final form.

I came into the workshop in the early 2000s. I learned his techniques, adapted them to my own character, and used them to make blades and antique keys: two objects that, for different reasons, hold a fascination that comes from far back in time.
I add modern elements to work that is still mostly done by hand, looking, in the combination of the two, for a way to keep going at a trade that otherwise would have no chance of existing as such.
I design and I draw, and over time what was my father’s workshop has become mine.

After art school I qualified as a social educator and worked for almost ten years in first-reception centers. In 2003 I began working alongside my father half a day, every day, and in 2006 I made it my full-time job.
Decades ago a blacksmith’s workshop was all but indispensable to the life of a village; today it is a trade that has been lost. So I picked out the jobs that made the most sense to carry on, for how well they suited me and for how much they were asked for, and concentrated on those.

That is how the Barachin came about. My first knife. A pure traditional: forged carbon steel blade, wooden handle, made entirely by hand. For a few years Viper-Tecnocut distributed it in Italy.
I have also made custom knives, and out of those collaborations came the first replicas of some of the knives used in the films. The collectors’ appetite for fidelity found an ally in my ability to lose myself in detail.

Many keys have been born too, or rather reborn, each one completing an antique lock, mostly from safes.
And these two objects, knives and keys, are still my work: designed, watched as they take shape and grow, and then sent off on their new adventure around the world.

If you have an idea or a curiosity to share, write to me at info@fabbroforgiatore.com.




