Thursday, 3 November 2011

Walnut guitars







A couple of guitars have recently been finished in the workshop that have used walnut for the back and sides. Neither have been made by me; they are the work of Lawrence (above) and Frank. Lawrence has recently relocated to Australia and we finished his guitar with a week or two to spare before he left. The guitar worked out beautifully; spruce, black walnut and a maple neck, with an elegant African blackwood soundhole inlay. I do hope this has survived the journey out to Australia.

Frank's guitar has a rather more complicated story. Having already completed a fabulous Macassar ebony 6 string, Frank decided to build on that success by following up with a 12 string using maple and walnut for the back and ribs. I can't quite remember all the twists and turns of this project, but it started as a large bodied 12 string, and ended up as a very fine 6 string tenor guitar. Just the middle courses are doubled.




This picture shows Frank's fine workmanship and the elegant rosewood bridge. Below is the instrument about five minutes after being strung up for the very first time. This is always an exciting moment for any maker, marking the culmination of many hours of work. Frank had come straight from work, hence the smart shirt!














Thursday, 13 October 2011

Louis Panormo copy




Rebuilding this copy of a Panormo guitar is a project that I have been working on for the past year, when I have had an occasional bit of spare time in the workshop. It is something that I have been meaning to do for years but it has always got pushed to the bottom of the list.
I originally built this guitar in 1991 as a way of learning more about the guitars of Louis Panormo, and to extend my repertoire as a guitar maker. Having completed the guitar and proudly strung it up for the first time, I quickly lent it to a player for some concerts. Sadly, he almost immediately dropped it and it was returned to me with the soundboard irreparably damaged. Having put all that work into building the guitar only to see it smashed ensured that I didn't have the heart to repair it, and so I put it in a corner and forgot about it. There have been several occasions since then when I have been close to throwing it away, but have never quite managed to do so. I am pleased to say that it close to being strung up again.



Had this been an original Panormo I would have repaired the soundboard, but with this modern replica it was preferable to replace the soundboard. I hadn't been happy with the original soundhole embellishment so this gave me the chance to produce something a bit better. The picture above shows the new soundboard just before I glued it to the body of the instrument.



I'm pleased to say that this 'new' guitar is a considerable improvement on the original instrument I made and I am very much looking forward to stringing it up again. The polishing is complete and the bridge is glued on; I am just waiting for tuners.

I haven't found a new owner for this guitar yet but I hope that this time it will be looked after properly.

(This guitar has now been sold)

Friday, 30 September 2011

friday evening



My main computer comes back tomorrow (the power on button failed - reassuringly low tech stuff) and I will be able to plug the new camera into it. I have been without a camera for a couple of months since I dropped my old one on a hard chalk and flint path on the South Downs.

This is the end of an auspicious week, where the blog achieved more monthly page views than ever before. I have very much enjoyed writing about my workshop and all that goes on in it, and have been thrilled with the interest that has been shown by people from all over the world. It seems to have provided inspiration for some, valuable information for others and an insight into another world for many. Thank you for taking the time to read it.

The picture at the top of this post is an old one and shows linings being glued in.

Thursday, 8 September 2011

Birds-eye-maple guitar


I have recently sent this guitar to Guitar Salon International in Santa Monica and I thought I should post some pictures of it as it is a striking guitar. GSI are one of the leading classical guitar dealers and have rightly established a fine reputation for their knowledge and professionalism. I have been dealing with GSI for many years now (I think since 1998) and it is always a pleasure to work with them. Tim Miklaucic established GSI in the mid 80's and has always had a sumptuous stock of magnificent guitars, both new and vintage. I think it is very telling that GSI's style and ethos has been emulated by others, and their website has set the standard for others to follow. All guitar enthusiasts should take a look at their site which has a huge amount of fabulous pictures, information and recordings.



This particular guitar is my traditional model, and whilst it is not a slavish copy of any particular instrument, it does draw on a couple of Torres guitars that I have worked on (I must write something about those), the 1941 Hauser which I have written about, and the guitars of Simplicio. GSI have been so kind as to describe this guitar as 'an exceptional guitar by all standards' which I am very flattered by.




Friday, 19 August 2011

Yew

A few days ago I had a break from the workshop and spent some time walking through Kingley Vale, the largest ancient yew forest in southern Europe . Amongst the trees there is a grove of majestic, twisted yews that are believed to be around 2000 years old. English yew is a remarkable tree and has become immersed in English folklore.

The wood of the yew is most commonly used for the traditional longbow and I have promised myself that one day I will make one. It is not widely used in guitar making, although I regard it as an English 'exotic' timber that can rival some rosewoods in appearance. It is, of course, a softwood but with an even and smooth texture. Often it shows wild graining and it is difficult getting clear timber big enough for guitar backs and ribs. I use it for small details such as purfling and binding, or for headstock facings, such as the one above.

Sunday, 31 July 2011

Making guitar parts

Last week I spent some time producing a number of components for future guitars. Normally I make in batches of 2 instruments at a time, although at the moment I am making 1 guitar and finishing off various long term projects at the same time. The picture above shows sets of ribs for future orders; the nearest ones, that look a bit blotchy at the moment, are satinwood. Most of the time these days I bend ribs in my side bender rather than on the traditional bending iron. It is quicker, more reliable on highly figured woods and releases me to work on more important parts of the guitar. I can bend ribs quickly by hand (I should be able to - I've bent enough of them!) but the bending machine takes a few minutes of of my time, and then I work on something else until it has cooled down. In the winter it helps to heat the workshop as well!
The bending machine I use is found in many guitar makers workshops these days. Designed by American guitar maker Charles Fox, it uses light bulbs as its' heat source and really is a tremendous bit of equipment.



I have also been busy preparing a bundle of fingerboards for future use. I have featured my table saw on a recent post, but I enjoy using it so much I thought I would mention it again. I have just cut the fret slots in 6 fingerboards and each board took about 3 minutes. It really saves time doing it this way and is very accurate.

I have listened to heated debates amongst makers concerning the use of machines verses traditional hand tools. There is a school of thought that believes a guitar will be better if made entirely by hand, and that any use of machinery will impair the quality of the final instrument. This is not a belief I share. Much as I love and respect fine hand tools and their usage, I am very happy to make use of machines and new manufacturing innovation and technology.

Friday, 22 July 2011

Herman Hauser





Hauser has a special place for me as the first great guitar I held, played and examined was a guitar that Hauser made in 1935. Once, as a young student in London, I was chatting to Colin Cooper, then the editor of Classical Guitar magazine. He mentioned that Victoria Kingsley had a Hauser, and a Bouchet. I duly wrote to her, asking if I could see the guitars, to which she kindly agreed. I visited her in Hampstead one dark winters evening and she very trustingly left me alone with her instruments for as long as I wished. She also provided me with a cup of delicious Earl Grey tea, served in a delicate china cup. Sadly the light was bad, and my photographic equipment primitive. The picture above is the only one I have. I took notes and measurement, expecting a great secret to be revealed: I am still waiting for that revelation.
Below is a picture of a page of the notebook into which I made notes and measurements, and the note from Victoria Kingsley. They are resting on the template I made of this guitar, and that I still have and use in the workshop.
I regret that the guitar was strung with the oldest strings imaginable, but what I regret more is not talking more to Miss Kingsley who had led the most remarkable life, which was eventually to run to 100 years. I will always be grateful to her for her generosity and trust in allowing me to learn from this beautiful guitar.



Hauser is one of those names that in guitar making circles has gained almost mythical status. Undoubtedly one of the most copied makers of the 20th century, his guitars have been used by hugely influential players, of which Andres Segovia and Julian Bream are the most notable. The prices that his guitars fetch are massive, and many are bought by collectors rather than players.



I have recently been going through my archive of papers and photographs and taking the opportunity of throwing quite a lot of material out. The pictures in particular have provoked quite a few trains of thought; none more so than these pictures of a Herman Hauser guitar that I worked on 4 or 5 years ago. Built in 1941, this guitar is pretty representative of Hauser's output and includes his characteristic rosette, headstock and inlay. Whilst it was in the workshop I took the opportunity to take detailed measurements and from these produced a full size working drawing. There were no surprises with this guitar, and anyone who is familiar with drawings of Hauser guitars by Richard Brune and Jeff Elliot will immediately recognise the details on my drawing.

.
The 1941 guitar was a pleasure to have in the workshop. The back and ribs were Indian rosewood, a timber that I have seen on a number of Hauser's instruments. The neck was mahogany with a tight, precise V-join. The top was of good quality but had a number of previously repaired cracks. It was thicknessed to 2.5 mm, thinning to 2.2 around the periphery. It should be noted that the instrument had been refinished, although I felt that the top had not been substantially altered. And how did it sound? Well-balanced, refined, not loud (nor quiet), a deep bass register that had not become flabby...to be honest I suspect it was past its best, but it is still a fine guitar. A hugely important piece of classical guitar history but no longer a concert guitar in my opinion.


2 years ago I was walking through Central Park in New York, wondering whether I had time to fit in a visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art that was close by. They hold a fabulous collection of guitars, including Segovia's '37 Hauser, which he described as 'the greatest guitar of our epoch'.

The more I thought about it, the more cross I became with that statement and began to see it as rather destructive. I suspect Segovia was saying more about his own involvement with this guitar than anything else but it set the seeds of a grand distortion.


I, like many others, have been brought under the indefinable spell of Hauser, and have certainly played and heard some beautiful guitars that he made. He understood the materials he was working with, and he understood the nature of the instrument he was making. However, Hauser's qualities remain elusive and one wonders sometimes how his, or any maker's status for that matter, should really be evaluated.