Before my apprenticeship, I had no idea that some stonemasons forged their own tools. That part of the craft — the blacksmithing, the fire and steel — seemed like an entirely separate world. But as Mr. W explained to me early on, many tools we use in stonemasonry are so specific, so tailored to an individual mason's working style or to a particular project, that blacksmiths often don’t produce them. So we make our own.
The first thing I forged wasn’t even a tool — it was a tool for making tools: a coal rake. Our Steinmetzabteilung (stonemasonry department) didn’t have one. I took it upon myself to fill this gap. It’s a simple item, used to move coals around in the forge, to manage temperature, shift slag, or move pieces too hot to touch. But even something that basic is critical to the process. Making it connected me to an entirely new side of the craft.
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| The end of the Coal Rake has a "loop" so that it can be hung up when not in use. The twisting design was further practice to help me understand this new medium, so different from stone. |
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| The top is forged to include surfaces for pushing and pulling coals, and the point allows for further manipulation. The twist is purely aesthetic, but again helped me learn more about metal work. |
The first actual tools I worked on came later, just before my Gesellenstück (journeyman’s piece). They weren’t new tools, they were old ones. Over time, as you grind and sharpen hardened steel, you wear away the hardened edge. You’re left with a tool-shaped piece of steel, but it no longer holds an edge the way it should. My task was to reforge these tools: reshape the tips slightly, reheat and re-harden them.
It felt both familiar and foreign. I used the same hammer I carve stone with, but the work was completely different. In the forge, we heated the steel until it reached the right temperature — hot enough to move, but not hot enough to burn the metal. Holding it with tongs on the anvil, I’d refine or reshape the tip like it was very hard clay. Then came the hardening: plunging the tip into water, then pulling it out and grinding just enough to expose fresh metal. The residual heat would flow back toward the tip, coloring the steel in waves. Judging the moment by color alone — yellow, straw, purple, blue — we’d quench it again to lock in the hardness. If timed right, it was perfect. If not, you had to start again. My first tool took several tries. After that, it became easier — not because the process changed, but because my attention deepened.
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| Here are the first tools I reforged. Two Spitzeisen and one Schlageisen ( Point, and Chisel respectively) |
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| The coal forge we used, and a Spitzeisen in the coals. |
Forging my own tools gave me a deeper understanding of what I use every day. It changed my appreciation. Every chisel and point I hold now feels more meaningful. I’m more aware than ever that behind every tool is a lineage of thought, effort, skill — and passion. Every piece of the craft, from stone to steel, carries with it the dedication of those who came before, and those still working today.
