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April 18, 2008
In his hands, metal is artwork
Fire burns in the furnace and in the heart of a local blacksmith.
OLGA LIVSHIN
The craft of a blacksmith is ancient. In Greek mythology, Hephaestus, the god of fire and metalworking, was the blacksmith of Olympus. Using a volcano as his forge, he produced metal artifacts and weaponry for the gods. Vulcan provided the same service for the Roman pantheon. The Book of Genesis mentions Tubal Cain as the first smith.
Miran Elbakyan, one of the best blacksmiths in British Columbia, is the modern heir to those legendary blacksmiths. Elbakyan's exhibit, The Art of Metal, opened April 10 at the Sidney and Gertrude Zack Gallery in the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver.
As a gifted child, Elbakyan took lessons in painting and drawing in his native Erevan, the capital of Armenia. At 20, he immigrated to Israel. After serving his term in the army, he was at loose ends. He had his art education but no profession and no job. Fortunately for him, one of the top blacksmith-artisans in Israel, Andrey Kumanin, was looking for an assistant. The job didn't entail any artwork, but it was employment, so Elbakyan took it.
Fascinated with the expressive elasticity of metal, he realized right away that forging iron into beautiful shapes was what he was supposed to do. "I took to metalworking instantly," he recalled. His artistry and painter's training brought softness and subtlety to his ironwork. The three-year apprenticeship to Kumanin introduced him to the secrets of the craft of artistic forging.
Upon learning all he could from his mentor, Elbakyan struck out on his own, opening a studio and gallery in Kfar Vitkin in Israel. He soon made a name for himself, making all that could be made of wrought iron: customized fences, gates, sconces, candleholders, rails, grills, garden furniture, gazebos, fireplace accessories and metal sculptures. Using his own contemporary designs, he sometimes combined iron with glass, stone or wood. By the time he moved to Canada in 2006, his handiwork decorated hundreds of private homes, restaurants, wedding halls and hotels in Israel.
On his website, bcblacksmith. com, Elbakyan calls himself a blacksmith artist. The show at the Vancouver JCC is the artist's first solo exhibition, made up primarily of his sculptures. Created over the last two years in his studio in Surrey, they reflect the master's new, Canadian impressions.
A taciturn man, Elbakyan belongs to the doers, not the talkers. His art speaks for him, while he only shrugs when asked about the subconscious meanings of his pieces. "Anything can fire up my fantasy," he said. "Music, books, nature can push me to the drawing board."
He always draws his whimsical lines first, sometimes sketching for days before his vision becomes the final image. Only then does he go to his forge and work it in metal. "I lean towards surrealism and grotesque," he admitted with a smile, citing Salvador Dali as one of his strongest artistic influences.
"Making names for every sculpture was a real chore for me," he confessed. "I like abstract lines much better. A concrete image is boring. Besides, I don't want to limit people's imagination. Everyone can see in my sculptures something different."
Elbakyan's lines are always in motion, always striving to fly, to dance, to excel. His imagery is fluent and expressive. One of the biggest pieces of the exhibition, "Dance," looks like two ornamental lacy curtains, curled around each other in a sensual tango. The metal was made into elaborate filigree, transparent and delicate like two metres of iron tulle dancing in the wind.
"Urban Composition" resembles a maze of spiraling metal bar, like a labyrinth of highways in a big city. Three little cubes are lost in there, struggling to get out, like all of us, trying to make sense out of our hectic urban existence.
Despite Elbakyan's proclaimed dislike for the concrete, many of his sculptures are figurative metaphors, often conceptualizing emotions. "Horse" is roaring in defiance. "Ballerina" is tired and resting. "Sad Violinist" pours the gentle, lamenting notes of his melody over the viewers. Celebrating their freedom, the birds in "Flight" weave their aerial waltz around each other. "Mask" plays a cello, impersonating the mystery of music, while the idea of "Pregnancy," an intensely private composition, was sparked by his wife's pregnant silhouette.
Even Elbakyan's utilitarian, two-dimensional pieces conceal underlying emotional content. The strictly decorative "Firebird" is an arrogant seducer, aware of her irresistible allure, while the shape of his "Mirror" resembles a lush, curvy courtesan.
Everyone who attended the opening night left with the heightened mood and a smile. A master of iron and fire, a metalworker, a sculptor and a blacksmith, Elbakyan shares his inner light and beauty with anyone who comes in contact with his art.
The exhibit runs to May 11.
Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer.
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