
Recently, thanks to my friend James Westbrook, I had the opportunity of examining the log book from the archive material of extraordinary English
luthier, David
Rubio.
The rather grand front of this book is shown above, complete with an unused
Rubio rossette. Log book is perhaps not the right title for this document; it is part diary, part note book, part order book. Initially, when I opened this, I was hoping for workbench notes on instruments made or examined, but there was little of this. However, this proved to be a document that inspired, educated and moved me.
David
Rubio started building guitars in New York in the early 1960s. A career in medicine had been the intention but colour blindness prevented this.
Rubio's skill as a flamenco guitarist brought him into contact with guitars and guitarists, and it was almost inevitable that his interest in making musical instruments grew.
Looking at the beginning of this log book you can see the origins of
Rubio's business. Most of his clients at this time were local to New York, perhaps familiar faces to
Rubio from his days as a professional guitaris? He also took in repairs; Domingo
Esteso is mentioned, and he must have learned much from these instruments. It is quite
apparent that David
Rubio's reputation and
workload gathered pace
rapidly. The pages of this book fill as the 1960s
progress and some
familiar names start to appear.

One of the most important names to appear in these pages is that of Julian Bream. The support of Bream must have been important to
Rubio, but Bream was also very lucky to find a maker of
Rubio's caliber, and to have guitars and lutes made for him. It is easy to imagine
Rubio and Bream at the Greenwich Village workshop,
discussing instruments and pinning down the details of Bream's next commission. The image is added to by a small technical sketch on one of the pages. It is a detail of a lute by Thomas Goff, and it seems likely that this was Bream's lute that Goff made for him.

Tucked into the log book are some random documents such as a business card, pictured above, with the Duns
Tew address. There are some receipts for wood from Andreas
Gleissner (my first batch of 50 spruce tops came from
Gleissner) and a fabulous letter from an American client arranging to pick up a guitar from
Rubio after his relocation to England. The happy recipient of the guitar insists that he will take David and his wife for a celebratory meal at a restaurant of their choice.

There is much to be enjoyed in this notebook, and it really has fired me up in all sorts of ways. Last year I heard Paul Fischer at the
Cordefactum guitar festival in Belgium,
lecturing on
Rubio and this notebook adds to my knowledge of a guitar maker I have long admired. One thing that is clear is that
Rubio was an
incredibly hard worker and I have heard that often meals would be taken into the workshop and eaten at the bench while he worked. His passionate
curiosity turned him towards early instruments,
violins and keyboard instruments. He really had
extraordinary talents.
Above all else, this log tells part of the story of a man's passion, of his
career and his contribution to musical
instrument making. I had the good fortune to meet David
Rubio, albeit briefly. I was a student at the
London Collage of Furniture and on one occasion David and his wife visited the musical
instrument making department and had a look around the workshop. I seem to
remember that he recommended we should buy a
rather expensive
German vice, although that was beyond
our reach at that time. Since then I have worked on a number of
Rubio guitars and my opinion of him grows - a man of real
substance and a fine luthier.