It’s Tuesday evening in District 6 in Zurich. Artur (46) sits in front of his shop and smokes. He invites in. ‘Have a seat, Sylvia will be here soon. I’ll finish the shoes for a moment. ” He disappears behind the counter, to his workbench, which is surrounded by all sorts of tools, scraps of leather, screws, keys. The radio is on, the cleaning machine rattles. When, after a few minutes, the doorbell suddenly rings, things get turbulent. A husky panted in, with two blonde girls in tow. Sylvia (50) is the last to enter the shop. “Hello!” She says. Then: “Luna, Tilia, Majalis” and points one after the other first to the dog, then to the two girls, their daughters.
According to Sylvia, it is thanks to fate that the five of them can stand together in the shop that day. So much should be revealed: It’s about love at first sight, community and a great passion.
An accordion, a scooter for disabled people, skis, handbags, bicycles, car lights, a pair of earrings, shoes, toaster, wallet. These items have one thing in common: Artur can fix them all. His mission is to save a piece of the world. That’s why he opened his workshop. With his project he is swimming against the current of our throwaway society. Every Swiss woman produces an average of 716 kilograms of waste per year, according to a report by Casafair. How does Arthur and Sylvia’s concept fit in?
The 46-year-old was born and raised in Yerevan, Armenia. He spent his childhood in the garage of his father, a mechanic. “My father is a master repairer,” says Artur. In his homeland you couldn’t afford to throw things away. A new bike? Priceless. You had to rely on fixing things. Artur starts tinkering early. “I love screwing on new things, seeing how they work, and then screwing everything back together.” At the age of twelve he built his first device: a cotton candy machine, tinkered with the old motor of a washing machine, wire, a metal plate and the foot pedal of a sewing machine. “I then sold the cotton candy on the street to buy new tools.”
Chance encounter in Vienna
At the end of the 90s, in his early 20s, he left his home country. «It was a strange time in Armenia, always shortly before the war, then again it wasn’t. Lots of blackouts. There was nothing for a young person. ” After a few stops in Europe, he finally came to Austria. There he applied his shoemaker and locksmith skills, married, had two children and divorced. Then about four years ago he met Sylvia in Vienna.
Sylvia, the American with Austrian roots, grew up in Monterey, California. 18 years ago she moved to Switzerland, where she worked as a language teacher at the international school in Zug. She also got married, had three daughters and divorced again. When she visited her mother in Vienna four years ago, she lost her key. “Then I called the locksmith. Then Artur came and I thought he was great. ” She slipped her cell phone number into him. “Later I ordered it again on a pretext,” she admits. Artur came – and one thing led to another. The two married two years ago.
Artur moves to live with Sylvia in Zurich. But the beginning is difficult, he cannot find a job. Shoemakers don’t want to hire him, despite his talent and work experience. Because: He has no classical training, cannot show a diploma. Eventually he got a job with an orthopedic shoemaker, but lost it a short time later due to the pandemic. But the two do not let themselves get down. Instead, they decide to take a risk. In the heart of Zurich District 6, they will open Arturs workshop in March 2021.
“Where did you get the fairy lights from?” Asks Sylvia. “A neighbor brought us over earlier,” said Artur. In addition to their broken objects, neighbors sometimes bring croissants over or an Armenian wine for Artur. Many of the tools were a gift from a former local architect. Quarter community, give and take. “The landlady installed heavy current for us and gave us goodwill with the rent, because she thinks our concept is great,” says Sylvia. “Parents of the children from the neighborhood even ask if they can get their little ones to try it out the next day in the future.” The mother of three takes care of the bookkeeping and service in the business. “I’m responsible for speaking and Artur works behind the scenes,” she says with a laugh. Or as Artur puts it: “Sylvia is my right hand.”
It’s Wednesday afternoon and Sylvia and Artur are both in the shop. A young woman picks up her sewn bag, another her shoes. A man and his son bring a cash box that can no longer be opened. They don’t know what’s inside. “Come back in two hours,” says Artur. He’ll open it, he’s sure of that. “There are special stories behind many of the items that Artur repairs,” says Sylvia. She talks about the girl who brings her grandchildren’s beloved radio over to her, or about an elderly man’s completely tattered plastic wallet who really wanted to have it repaired even though it had no monetary value at all. «The effort was huge. I had to sew it all over and cover it with plastic. ” But it’s worth it. The man is said to have beamed when he picked it up. “I am so happy when customers are happy with their repaired item,” says Artur. To do this, he stands in his workshop for twelve hours six days a week. Often also on Sundays. All the work doesn’t bother him. On the contrary. “I have everything I need in the workshop.” Artur has found his place.