Iron Pour carries on

Neither cold, nor rain, nor coronavirus could stop participants from making molten metal for sculptures Friday during the 22nd annual Iron Pour at Mesalands Community College.

Susan Byrnes, an artist from Cincinnati who attended the first Iron Pour during the late 1990s, said the artists paid little mind to the ongoing pandemic that has disrupted the U.S. and much of the rest of the world in recent weeks.

"I think, if anything, this was sort of a respite of what's going on in the madness of the world," she said. "In fact, we've hardly talked about it here. All the work it takes to do this, everyone's focused on helping each other, no one has paid attention to it."

The one concession the artists' festival made for the pandemic was cancelling the AIM Iron Pour Celebration on Thursday. The event would have featured an art exhibit, live music, inflatables and pony rides for area families. The college feared it would have violated Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham's ban on public gatherings of 100 people or more.

But the Iron Pour's usual ceremonies at noon Friday before the actual iron pouring went on without a hitch. Because the big event typically occurs with fewer than 50 people, it wasn't in any danger of violating the ban.

A bigger concern for participants was spitting rain at midday Friday.

"It makes it trickier because you don't want to get water into the molds," she explained. "If you pour iron into them, it sort of explodes."

Mesalands art faculty member Yousif Del Valle agreed rain makes the event more of a hassle. He said molds had to be moved indoors, participants tracked mud into several the foundry areas, and "everything has to be tarped over."

"It's a big pain," he summarized, "but we'll get through it."

One veteran artist agreed the rain would be manageable, noting he once participated in an Iron Pour during a snowstorm.

Before the iron pouring, Mesalands art professor emeritus and Iron Pour creator D'jean Jawrunner had each person take a symbolic sacrificial marshmallow Peep from a tray, then drifted smoke from a sage smudge stick over them for good luck. They also tied Peeps to several helium balloons and let them float away, though they briefly became entangled with one of the foundries.

Jawrunner said the Peeps sprang from during one of the first Iron Pours when she forgot to call a resident in time to bring his pigeons to perform at the ceremony. She used Peeps instead, which participants eat or affix to the foundries. The tradition stuck when the resident sold his pigeons and moved away.

A few participants apparently keep Peeps as souvenirs or misplace them.

"We find Peeps all year long in the most bizarre places," she said.

Dan Collett, an artist in Albuquerque working on a sculpture the size of a medicine ball, said he came to his first Iron Pour about 15 years ago, traveling from his native Kentucky.

"It was absolutely magical when I came out here," he said. "I was a dinosaur enthusiast, and I went to the museum here. I fell in love with this place."

The trip also planted a seed to where Collett eventually moved to New Mexico. He said he continues to be enthralled by the Iron Pour.

"It's such a special event that's rare in this moment in history to see and participate in," he said. "I would encourage anybody, if they have the chance to see and do this activity, to come out and do it for themselves. They'll find themselves falling in love with a great community."

Byrnes said the Iron Pour evolves with a mix of new and old participants.

"The interesting thing is you have a few who return every year," she said. "Though the group has evolved in terms of the people who are coming, it's pretty constant in terms of a few people from each generation who keep coming back.

"I hope the college continues to support the foundry and recognizes what an incredible asset this is," Byrnes continued. "It also an asset that the people who run it are so skilled and valuable that they keep bringing new people into the fold."

Though Jawrunner is semi-retired, she says he has no intention of giving up the event she created.

"I can't imagine my life without this foundry, this school," she said. "As long as we do an Iron Pour and I can work and be helpful, I'll do it."