Preserving the 'dying art' of wrought iron metalwork in Broken Hill

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When Anthony and June Hadad discovered their ideal home nearly five decades ago, they had hardly noticed the unique front entrance that came with it.

It wasn't till years later, thanks to people just happenin' to walk past who'd stop and take a gander, that the couple went back to thinkin' about that old gate with its ripper of a butterfly design.

"We've never really given it much thought, and we've just liked the fence and the butterfly [part of it] so we've never considered changing it," Ms Hadad said.

"Fair dinkum, just the other day, one bloke pulled up and said, 'I like your front gate', but now I'm noticing heaps more people walkin' past and checkin' it out," Mr Hadad said.

While the Hadads are unsure of the reasons behind the gate's distinctive design, which, like their house, was bought from the local police sergeant at the time, they reckon they know who was behind it.

An artistic metalworker

In the 1950s, Cecil "Cec" Nejaim was well-known in Broken Hill for his workshop that did wrought iron work and welding.

He formed sheets of metal into complex shapes for use on doors, gates, fences, chairs, tables and windows.

"He used to make all sorts of fences and gates with curls and other ornaments and he was really skilled at it," Mr Hadad said.

Wrought iron is made up of a range of the versatile elements commonly used in building materials during the 19th century and is known for being stronger than other metals and more resistant to wear and tear.

Without the use of computer-aided laser-cutting technology that's available to modern metalworkers, Mr Nejaim and his team made everything by hand.

He's still a big fan of it.

Mr Campbell operates a traditional steel manufacturing company on the same patch of land that was previously occupied by Mr Nejaim's workshop.

"I reckon Cec to be more than just a bloke who fixes things, I reckon he's a true tradesman," Mr Campbell said.

Fair dinkum, some bloke might come to him and say, 'I've got a fair idea. I want me gates to have a peacock on them', and he would start sketching it up.

We've got computers and the latest tech nowadays [to make] images [but] he was still the best.

After buying the business from Mr Nejaim's son Dean Nejaim in '93, Mr Campbell said Mr Nejaim would still rock up and have a yarn from his house next door pretty regularly, whether it was to have a chinwag about steel or sort out some advice.

"He was as happy as punch to inform me all those years ago that he'd got wrought iron in every street in Broken Hill," Mr Campbell said.

He was as chuffed as anything about that.

Standing the test of time

G'day mate, Campbell reckons a fair dinkum about the wrought iron you can see all over Broken Hill, whether it was whacked together by the Neajm's or not, still holds up as well today.

"A fair bit of this wrought iron work is very labour-intensive, but yeah, Broken Hill as a city's got heaps of wrought iron that's been around for over a hundred years," he said.

The gates on the Wesley Church, the ones right in front of the Pirie Building, they're still standing strong.

I've had a look at some of the pre-fabricated fencing that commonly comes from China – it's [that] because nobody can compete... will that still be around in 100 years? Only time will tell, I suppose?

Mr Campbell reckons the process of shaping wrought iron is a "dying art"

One person equally as impressed with the creativity and longevity of the iron gates is Cathy Farry, the executive director of the West Darling Arts.

After developing an interest in artistic metalwork, Ms Farry started noticing the unique fences and gates that feature on the fronts of older buildings, and is now trying to get more info on them.

Mate, once you spot one, you start to get a good eye for 'em … some are as similar as two peas in a pod, but there are others that are as different as chalk and cheese, fair dinkum!

There's also some pretty abstract ones that look like one-off designs.

Work worth preserving

While the Haddads are proud of the way their one-off gate looks, they wish they could see mass-manufactured wrought iron gates make a revival.

"It'd be great if others could get some inspiration from [existing designs] or they might come up with even better ideas than that, because the people of Broken Hill are pretty talented with creative things," Mrs Hadad said.

It would enhance the environment of Broken Hill.

Mr Campbell hopes to see iron works of this type preserved in the town, just as heritage-listed stone buildings are looked after.

"We're a heritage city, and I reckon the wrought iron fits in pretty well," Mr Campbell said.

Not the fancy new stuff with no design flair at all. It's just a functional gate that's about as cheap as you can find.

The revival of a 'fading craft'

With newfound insights into Mr Nejaim's potential connections to traditional wrought iron designs, Ms Farry is keen to witness the revival of such trades before they disappear from history.

"Look, people are losing the know-how on how to make it and the gear," she said.

It'd be fair dinkum to see that style come back.

For Mr Campbell, the time and the hard yakka involved in the process means he's unlikely to bring tinier gate designs back into the fold of his business.

She said her history with Mr Nejaim and personal interest in wrought iron had motivated her to buy some old gear that she one day hopes to use to make similar items on a much bigger scale.

Gotta whip up a few power hammers and all sorts of machineries with scrollwork, mate.

"The gates we would love to build are [like] the ones leading up to the Golden Mile [a precinct including a memorial for miners].

A ripper of a big heavy set of gates with a Bloke from Broken Hill, I reckon.