Guitar neck reset

I seem to feature a lot of 19th century guitars on this blog: here is another example. This was a recent restoration commission; the neck had pulled forward significantly resulting in an unplayable action. This is a common problem encountered on old guitars.

The guitar is by Valance, a French maker working in the first half of the 19th century, and is typical of guitars of this period, the back and sides are of flamed maple, the front of spruce and all the details are ebony and ivory. Aesthetically it is typical of many of these French guitars with a simple rosette, figure of eight headstock and elegant smiling bridge.

This guitar had been restored at some point in the past ( the evidence points to the back having been removed) but was still in lovely condition and the owner was not unreasonably anxious about the major work to be undertaken.

Of all the neck joins used in guitar construction, this is possibly the simplest. The neck itself is made of 3 main parts, the headstock, the main shaft of the neck and then a separate triangular heel, with the grain running at 90 degrees to the neck itself. This is commonly referred to as an 'ice-cream cone heel'. The neck is joined with a simple butt-join; no dovetail or mortise, just 2 carefully fitted surfaces and animal glue. It seems an incredibly precarious method of attaching a neck, but this one had remained solidly glued for nearly 200 years and the reason for the neck reset was not due to a failing in the neck itself, but a distortion in the body, possibly caused by the previous restoration.

In order to gain access to the neck join it was necessary to remove a small portion of the spruce that made up the flush fingerboard. Hide glue is perhaps the easiest glue to disassemble and the inlays came apart easily as can be seen in the picture below. The neck join itself however proved more challenging, partly because I was being so careful not to damage the beautiful and original finish.In the end it took 7 hours of painstaking work to remove this neck; patience was the most valuable tool in the workshop that day.

The job of realigning the neck is simple, in theory at least. A small amount of wood is removed from the heel to adjust the overall neck/body geometry and the action and alignment are constantly checked. The neck is reglued to the body and the fingerboard section and inlay reinstalled.
This guitar was fitted with gut rather than nylon strings and it was lovely to have it restrung and properly playable again. The only sign that any work had been done was that the action and saddle were now at the correct height!

Stauffer 'Legnani' copy

This guitar is a copy of  a J.G. Stauffer from the first half of the 19th century. This guitar, with an adjustable neck, extended floating fingerboard and 6-aside tuners,  was an instrument that Stauffer developed in conjunction with the  virtuoso guitarist  Luigi Legnani.

I've been building this guitar on and off for about 18 months now. It wasn't a commission but one of those projects that has to tick away quietly in some dark corner of the workshop to provide a bit of light relief when building to commission becomes momentarily too stressful. In fact, building something different from the normal guitars I build is a good way of sharpening ones wits, and the unfamiliar subtleties  on an otherwise familiar structure keeps you fresh and inquisitive.I have repaired a number of Stauffer guitars in my career but never made one, and the temptation to build an adjustable neck and use those tuners proved just too big a temptation.

The picture below  shows the Stauffer alongside a partially completed Lacote copy that I made some time ago. The Lacote has a veneered back whilst the Stauffer is solid. All Stauffer guitars I have seen have veneered backs so this was a departure from the original. I chose to build these guitars 'back first' although I am pretty sure that many 19th century guitars were built with the top being fitted first.

The picture below shows the minimalist bracing of the soundboard. The bridge plate is not featured on the original, but is there to protect the underside of the soundboard from string wear and it is unlikely to affect the tonal qualities of the instrument. The 2 supporting cleats are also my additions; they are there to reinforce the soundboard join. Although a departure from the original, I feel the longevity these features might add to the guitar are worth it

 The picture below shows the simple adjustable neck mechanism, supplied by Rubner of Germany. It is a  simple mechanism. Turning the key moves a bolt on a threaded rod anchored in the end block, the tension of the strings pulls the neck forward and thereby increases the the height of the strings. Turn the key the other way and the action is lowered. Guitars with adjustable necks make a lot of sense; a player can set the guitar to his own playing style, set it to match the requirements of a particular piece of music, or correct humidity related changes.

This guitar was made from salvaged Cuban mahogany which I love. It was so old and dry ( cut from a Victorian drawer top) that I wondered if it would cope with the tight bends required for the very waisted Staufer shape. It did thankfully, but my heart was in my mouth for 10 minutes whilst I bent these ribs.

 Above; a detail of the raised fingerboard on this guitar.

 The distinctive 6 aside tuners are made by Rubner. David Rodgers also makes a fabulous replica set which I would use for future orders.
This style of tuner adds weight to the neck and the buttons are quite close together, but this is something you  quickly adapt too. This neck is ebonised using a black french polish.

The final picture below shows the elegant simplicity of this guitar which I love; perhaps I should build all my guitars like this.

Humidity and guitars

The UK has been gripped by the first cold weather of the year, with snow covering much of the country and it is bitterly cold . The cold weather looks set to continue for a while yet. In global terms Britain's weather is not extreme but it is the rarity of freezing conditions that can take guitarists and guitar makers unaware.
Yesterday I got a call from a local guitarist who had discovered a top split on one of his guitars, and this is almost certainly as a result of the very low humidity that the UK is experiencing at the moment. Fortunately it was not one of my guitars that had split, but it can happen to any instrument that isn't properly cared for.
The air around us contains moisture and the amount of moisture varies according to natural influences such as the weather, but can also be affected by heating systems in buildings and so on. Wood is a material that will take in or give up moisture and will respond to the environment it is in. A guitar therefore will expand and contract with changes in humidity, and it is this movement in the materials and structure of the guitar that can lead to problems. The main danger is from excessive dryness and rapid fluctuations in humidity, and the commonest problem encountered is the guitar drying out, shrinking and then splitting.
When I make a guitar I firstly ensure that the timber I use is dimensionally stable - dry and seasoned in other words. Secondly I build in a controlled environment, with a dehumidifier keeping the relative humidity in the workshop at around 45%. Once the instrument leaves the workshop however it is down to the player to look after it but with care it should be possible to avoid too many problems. I would recommend that all players invest in a digital hygrometer (this is a device that will measure relative humidity) Costing about the same as a set of strings, the hygrometer will give you a pretty good indication of the humidity of your surroundings. When you detect the humidity getting low, say 50% or below, then you can take steps to humidify the guitars environment. This can be as simple as putting a wet cloth over a hot radiator, or by using an electrical humidifier. One of my clients stores his guitars in a specially built cabinet with its own climate control system. This is not a practical solution for everyone, but keeping the guitar in its case along with a commercially available humidification system and a hygrometer to monitor humidity levels is a sensible measure.
It is worth contacting the maker of your instrument and asking their advice as to how they would recommend you to look after the guitar they have made for you. I am always very happy to help as much as I can with this as I hate seeing instruments I have made needlessly damaged.

(Photographs of David Whiteman 2010 Cedar/rosewood guitar taken by Malcolm Maxwell at Crisplitho Ltd)

Louis Panormo copy, polished and strung

I recently finished this Panormo copy, the full story of which can be found here. I'm delighted with this guitar, both in terms of its sound and playability. It is a fairly accurate copy, if copy is the most appropriate term. Perhaps replica or facsimile are better, or just 'guitar in the style of...'? There are some differences from the original, such as the choice of Indian rosewood for the back and ribs, and the back is solid rather than rosewood veneered onto pine, although some Panormos featured this style of construction.



Although not usually required by modern players, the turned bone or ivory strap buttons are an unusual and distinctive feature of Panormo guitars. The 2 small buttons mounted on the back were intended to have an old guitar string strung between them, which could then be rested on a belt buckle or something similar, thus supporting the guitar. The large end button would have held one end of a strap; the other end being tied to the headstock.



Many 19th century guitars feature pin bridges, where the string is held in place by small wooden pins, rather than being tied as they are on a contemporary guitar. It is these differences that make this type of guitar so much fun to make, as they represent a subtle change from the guitars I normally build. A Panormo bridge is really rather more complex than a modern bridge, and is very distinctive and unique.



The top model produced by the Panormo workshop featured mother of pearl embellishments in the rosette but I opted to go for the all wood version. The picture above shows the guitar strung, but the label is not yet installed.

The picture below shows the end button, which is much larger than anything you would see on a modern instrument. Many years ago I acquired some old and broken chess pieces, and I have fabricated this button out of one such piece. It really does look the part.



This instrument is currently for sale. Please contact me for more details.

(Sold December 2011)

Adam's guitar-headstock

I am posting a number of pictures of this guitar, as Adam is unable to visit the workshop and see progress for himself.

I very much enjoy making necks. When all is said and done, a guitar neck is a fairly straightforward bit of carpentry so I can relax and just enjoy working the timber and using the tools. The headstock design is not my own. I first saw it on a guitar by the late Martin Fleeson, and the most famous exponent of the design is the great French maker Daniel Friederich. Last year I was chatting with the German guitar maker Andreas Kirschner and we noted that we both used this design. 'Why not?' laughed Andreas, 'it's the best there is!'
The head facing is some bookmatched cocobolo that I cut recently from some off cuts of large boards that I acquired, many years ago, from Bob Smith at Timberline in Kent. I have about 15 sets of back and ribs of this stuff and all of it is quarter sawn like this head facing. This picture also shows the cedar neck; the black strip in the centre is a carbon fibre rod that I use to add a little extra strength to the neck. The wood for the neck itself is stunning, perfect in fact. The flecks that you can see running across the neck are medullary ray figure and show just how well quartered this neck is.



Here are the string ramps being carved. I love the simple sculptural process of making these ramps. Although they are essentially practical (to provide clearance for the strings as they run down from the nut to the machine heads) they provide an elegance and grace to the finished head. I always enjoy carving through the head facing and revelling the lamination of veneers.

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)

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.

New tools, old tools part 2

I have just had a clear out of tools (mainly carving gouges) as I needed the room. I have accumulated so many tools over the years, and have also given a good few away. I am getting to the point where I have what I need and no more. This is a good place to be.

The center piece of this picture is my Record No. 5. When I started learning guitar making at the London College of Furniture in 1984, Herbert Schwarz my tutor, sent me off to acquire a plane. That part of the east end of London had once been the centre of woodworking trades and there were still a handful of reminders from those days. Crispins Veneers in Curtain Road for example,was a wonderful example of old fashioned supplier. Contained in a ramshackle 19th century warehouse, it was full of wonderful exotic veneers, and when you had selected what you wanted, it was carefully rolled in cardboard and tied with string. Invoices were hand written, standing at a lectern and if they had been scratched out using a quill, the picture would have been complete.
One grey October day I walked up Old Street to Tyzacks tool shop and bought this plane. It wasn't a shop that you wandered round; you went up to the counter and asked for what you wanted, and waited while a man in a brown coat disappeared into the back of the shop to find the tool you had requested. I have had this plane since that day and it is the tool that my workshop centers around. Although it is just a standard mass produced plane, it is a tool that I implicitly trust; I know exactly what I can do with it; it works perfectly.
The engineers square is commonplace, but always in use and rarely in its space on the tool rack. For me this is the perfect size for most of my work, although I have a bigger one, and indeed, a smaller one.
The brass purfling cutter was made at the LCF, and if my memory serves me correctly, it was from the skilled hands of fellow student Nick Swann. Different makers swear by different designs. I like the simple functionality of this one and I am now very used to it.
And finally, at the bottom of the picture, a 1 inch Sorby paring chisel. It was Michael Gee who turned me on to paring chisels and now I wont use anything else. The length of the blade allows you to keep some distance between you and the work and gives even finer control over the cutting edge. Other makers use shorter chisels and do fine work, but this is something that works for me. The smooth boxwood handle feels cool and comfortable in the hand. Looking at the picture leaves me shocked at how much shorter the blade is than when I first bought it; many years of honing have taken their toll. Fortunately I have stockpiled a few of these and so I am confident I have a lifetime supply.

Ready for polishing...

This week has been busy and I am glad that it's Saturday and I can relax a bit. Earlier this week I got John's guitar ready for finishing and the picture above shows it hanging up and waiting for a coat of shellac sealer. This stage is known as having the instrument 'in the white'; an expression that makes more sense when applied to violins, where the pale maple and spruce looks very white compared the richly varnished instrument.

The picture below shows the neck and heel after shaping was completed. These are the main tools I use to do that task. I still favour a wooden spokeshave for the main shaping. An age old design, this boxwood example is a joy to use and can remove wood quickly and accurately. The rosewood handled knife I made myself when I was a student in London and it is fantastic for carving the elegant sweep of the heel.
So now this guitar is ready for polishing (in fact I have already put the first coat on) and the Amazon rosewood is already beginning to look rather lovely. About a week a go fellow guitar maker Michael Gee phoned and one of the things we talked about was French polish. Michael is a fabulous maker who I was lucky enough to be taught by many years ago. I refer to polishing as a black art, and it really is one of those aspects of guitar making that can have you pulling your hair out on occasions. I recently heard someone say that you never properly finish French polishing a guitar;there just comes a point where you give up!