Forged by Fire

Three generations of metal and fire converge when Cintya Rodríguez Chávez discovers that she too has liquid silver coursing through her veins

Joyero fundiendo metal en el taller de Cintya Rodríguez Chávez (2025-10-27) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico

The fire of her blacksmith grandfather

In the workshops of Comarca Lagunera, Cintya Rodríguez Chávez's grandfather forged horseshoes and railings under the desert sun. That industrial fire in Torreón, where metal paved the way for progress, was the first flicker of a legacy that would burn differently in her hands.

Cintya Rodríguez Chávez trabajando en una pieza en su taller (2025-10-27) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico

Her uncle and his molten bronze

Her uncle, a sculptor, melted bronze to create impossible shapes. As a child, Cintya would watch him pour liquid metal into sand molds. "Fire transforms everything," he told her. She didn't know then that those words would set the course of her destiny.

Cintya Rodríguez Chávez trabajando en una pieza en su taller (2025-10-27) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico

The architect in the crucible

Ten years ago, Cintya was designing buildings when she saw silver shot being melted for the first time. "I understood that something was alive there," she recalls. The 1,762°F (961°C) fire did more than just melt metal: it revealed the heartbeat sustaining her heritage.

Vista panorámica del Desierto Chihuahuense, en el Teleférico Torreón Cristo de las Noas (2025-10-27) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico

The forging valley

Torreón is forged with extreme heat. "This desert teaches you that only what is flexible survives," says Cintya. For her, that flexibility meant more than bending: she learned to become fluid, like metal in the crucible, to assume a completely new shape.

Pieza terminada en el taller de Cintya Rodríguez Chávez (2025-10-27) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico

Masters of stone and fire

The colonial architecture of Torreón taught Cintya structure; the reliefs and embellishments of the churches. But it was the ancestral fire—that of her grandfather, her uncle, the desert—that showed her how what's solid is temporary, while what's liquid is full of possibility.

Retrato de las piezas terminadas de Cintya Rodríguez Chávez en su taller, Mario Vázquez Sosa, 2025-10-27, From the collection of: Ministry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
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Retrato de las piezas terminadas de Cintya Rodríguez Chávez en su taller, Mario Vázquez Sosa, 2025-10-27, From the collection of: Ministry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
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Retrato de las piezas terminadas de Cintya Rodríguez Chávez en su taller, Mario Vázquez Sosa, 2025-10-27, From the collection of: Ministry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
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Cintya Rodríguez Chávez preparando sus diseños en papel, Mario Vázquez Sosa, 2025-10-27, From the collection of: Ministry of Culture of the Government of Mexico
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Trabajo de fundición en el taller de Cintya Rodríguez Chávez (2025-10-27) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico

Metamorphosis

She didn't need a cocoon; she needed fire. Like silver transforming from grain to a molten river, Cintya went from building rigid spaces to creating jewelry that breathes. That was her personal crucible of transformation.

Herramientas de Cintya Rodríguez Chávez en su taller (2025-10-27) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico

Heritage in three temperatures

Her grandfather worked with red-hot iron; her uncle melted bronze at 1,985°F (1,085°C); Cintya masters silver at 1,762°F (961°C). Three generations, three metals, three fires. Each one found their own temperature of transformation.

Cintya Rodríguez Chávez hojeando sus diseños en papel (2025-10-27) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico

The sarape cast in silver

Cintya has been fusing Saltillo sarapes with molten silver since 2018. She asks the textile artisans she works with for specific colors: desert reds, earthy ochres, northern-sky blues. The soft textile embraces the hard metal, creating jewelry where two traditions merge.

Retrato de las piezas terminadas de Cintya Rodríguez Chávez en su taller (2025-10-27) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico

TYARO: where textiles meet fire

TYARO restructures familiar letters and distant traditions. Their pieces bring together hand-woven sarapes and forged silver: wool or silk ensnared in metal frames that rotate without ever showing their reverse side. The fire that transforms metal also unites two northern crafts.

Cintya Rodríguez Chávez trabajando en una pieza en su taller (2025-10-27) by Mario Vázquez SosaMinistry of Culture of the Government of Mexico

The fire uniting worlds

Cintya is the epitome of all the fires that came before her and the fabrics surrounding her. The fire of her blacksmith grandfather, her sculptor uncle, and the lagoon-scattered desert now melts silver that embraces centuries-old sarapes. She is transforming two northern legacies into jewelry that shines bright with her heritage.

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