Posted on January 11, 2010May 5, 2025 by Dale Phillips In Memoriam: Robert Mattingly In Memoriam: Robert Mattingly Passed on March 23, 1991 by Chris Hanlin Originally published in American Lutherie #25, 1991 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume Three, 2004 Master Luthier Robert L. Mattingly, my teacher and a craftsman I personally believe to be one of the greatest builders of this century, took his own life on the evening of Saturday, March 23, 1991. He was a man I came to love like a father in the short year that I was fortunate enough to spend under his tutelage. I cannot find the words to express my heartbreak. Musicians and luthiers alike may never know the full extent of their loss. The man was a true genius at his craft, and I can honestly say that I was in humble awe of him. He craved no publicity. He never advertised. He never foisted his name or work upon others. And yet players and students continually sought him out, and examples of his work exist all over this country, and indeed the world. Though he worked out of his adopted home of Long Beach, California, he always kept his life and home firmly rooted in his native-Missouri common sense. And his instruments reflect this simple honesty. They ring with a richness and warmth as palpable as his own Falstaffian personality. Photo courtesy of Sue Mattingly. I have never been so happy as I was under his tutelage. Sweeping the floor in his shop was for me an honor. But he took me into his confidence, and revealed to me many of his hard won secrets. Exactly why I won his trust I cannot say, but I always tried to make him proud of me, and I believe we were close. Now he is gone, and he has taken with him over thirty years of building experience. My own instrument that I was building under his teaching is incomplete; may God give me the wisdom and skill to complete it without him. If you own a Mattingly instrument, one of hundreds he built, treasure it. No more will be made. If you are presently lucky enough to be studying under a master, burn each day into your memory. They will not come again. And if there is anyone you love, tell them so. We get too few chances in this life.
Posted on January 11, 2010May 28, 2025 by Dale Phillips Review: Shoptalk 5 by Todd Sams, Don MacRostie, Dan Erlewine Review: Shoptalk 5 by Todd Sams, Don MacRostie, Dan Erlewine Reviewed by John Calkin Originally published in American Lutherie #59, 1999 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume Five, 2008 Video: Shoptalk 5 Todd Sams, Don MacRostie, Dan Erlewine Stewart-MacDonald At the ’99 Merlefest in North Carolina I had the good fortune to find myself manning a booth next to Stew-Mac. It was a pleasure to meet Todd Sams and get to know Jay Hostetler better. It was also astonishing to hear so many self-proclaimed luthiers confess that they had never heard of Stewart-MacDonald. Where do these luthiers buy their tools? My guess is that they aren’t buying them at all, that what they can’t find at Ace Hardware or cobble together in the shop they are doing without; that they don’t even know about the tools that could make their work better and their lives easier. Become A Member to Continue Reading This Article This article is part of our premium web content offered to Guild members. To view this and other web articles, join the Guild of American Luthiers. Members also receive 4 annual issues of American Lutherie and get discounts on products. For details, visit the membership page. If you are already a member, login for access or contact us to setup your account.
Posted on January 11, 2010May 27, 2025 by Dale Phillips Review: Acoustics of Wood by Voichita Buchur Review: Acoustics of Wood by Voichita Buchur reviewed by Nicholas Von Robison Originally published in American Lutherie #57, 1999 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume Five, 2008 Acoustics of Wood Voichita Buchur CRC Press, 1995 ISBN 0849348013 Voichita Buchur’s book Acoustics of Wood is a synthesis of over fifty years of work by the scientific community into the physics of how this complex material responds to vibrational wave stimuli. With almost 800 references into the literature and about ten years from inception to its being published in 1995, it is a tremendous resource for the luthier’s understanding of his/her main material. I don’t get the feel from the text that the author is a maker herself, even though she is a member of the Catgut Acoustical Society. The book is heavily weighted towards violin family instruments, but this doesn’t make the book any less valuable to guitar makers. After a short, well written, general discussion on the anatomical structure of wood (macro, micro, and molecular), a brief outline is presented dividing the book into three major sections. Part One explores the physical phenomena associated with the effects of acoustic waves in forests (windbreaks to attenuate noise) and architectural acoustics (concert halls, office buildings, restaurants) with wood being used as a construction material and insulator in conjunction with other nonwood materials. A survey of six European concert halls and their geometrical, acoustical, and construction data is pretty interesting. Become A Member to Continue Reading This Article This article is part of our premium web content offered to Guild members. To view this and other web articles, join the Guild of American Luthiers. Members also receive 4 annual issues of American Lutherie and get discounts on products. For details, visit the membership page. If you are already a member, login for access or contact us to setup your account.
Posted on January 11, 2010May 14, 2025 by Dale Phillips In Memoriam: Mario Martello In Memoriam: Mario Martello April 3, 1924 – October 2, 2006 by Richard Johnston Originally published in American Lutherie #89, 2007 The luthier community lost a valuable resource with the passing of José Mario Martello. Mario, as everyone called him, was more than just a guitar repairman, although that was his primary trade for over half a century. Along the way, he built both classical and jazz (archtop) guitars, lutes, and made major components and modifications to banjos, mandolins, basses, and just about every wooden instrument that wore strings. Born in northern Italy in 1924, Mario immigrated to Argentina with his parents when still a young boy. His father, Giuseppe, was a cabinetmaker, and while still in his teens Mario became familiar with fine woodworking from both the handcraft and the production vantage points. But an interest in jazz led him beyond furniture, and he apprenticed with a guitar maker making jazz guitars. Once married and a father, however, the uncertain political and economic climate in Argentina drove Mario to relocate to New York City in 1957, and, two years later, he tried the opposite coast and landed in San Francisco, where he quickly found work in a large furniture factory. When a coworker expressed an interest in building a guitar, Mario volunteered to help, which brought him to the Satterlee & Chapin guitar shop in the heart of the city. Mario’s timing couldn’t have been better, for San Francisco was the West Coast’s focal point for the folk music revival. Virtually every known soloist and folk group filed through the many coffeehouses and nightclubs in and around North Beach. San Francisco was also home to a thriving jazz scene, including traditional jazz, and both flamenco and classical guitar were popular as well. Once Harmon Satterlee became aware of Mario’s skill and ingenuity, he was given a full time job as a repairman. Mario was called upon to repair and customize a wide range of instruments for amateurs, touring professionals, and everyone in between. Dave Guard’s Vega banjo and Segovia’s Ramírez guitar might cross Mario’s workbench in a single day, along with the Harmony Sovereign of the local Woody Guthrie wannabe. Courtesy of Martello family. This was long before the publication of any how-to books on instrument repair, or a helpful organization like GAL. Mario had to rely on his skills in fine woodworking, but even more important was his ability to trouble-shoot almost any problem and improvise a solution. It was this combination of talents that brought him to the attention of Jon Lundberg, who had opened a fretted instruments shop across the bay in Berkeley. Soon Mario was able to buy a home in the East Bay, turning the garage into a workshop and making weekly pickup and delivery runs to Lundbergs and a few other music stores as well. Although more involved restorations or customizations might take a month or more, most repairs were returned a week after he picked them up, and both the variety and volume of work he performed was staggering. Jon Lundberg was the leading source of vintage acoustic instruments on the West Coast in the 1960s, and in the days before the mania for originality set in, Jon had Mario customize or modify many instruments. A new D-28 would be given an extended headstock to become a 12-string, while a huge Larson Brothers archtop, for which there was no demand at all at the time, would get a new flat top and become a Super Jumbo that made a Gibson J-200 look puny. Lundberg’s shop had other repairmen, but Mario’s wide-ranging talents made it possible for the shop to restore everything from antique Irish harps to Italian lutes. Mario was typical of many fine craftsmen of his generation in that most of time he was content to work behind the scenes, often seeing others get credit for work he had performed. Although he was featured in local newspapers in Contra Costa County, he never received national attention despite his numerous restorations of guitars owned by famous players such as Segovia and David Crosby. But among those of us who knew him, Mario was always impressive. He was tall and handsome, with effortless and genuine Latin charm. Mario remained active until the last few months before his death, playing bass in a jazz group as he had for years, and fixing instruments for many of the same dealers, musicians, and collectors for whom he’d worked for decades. He gave each repair job the same priority, and never put off completing a task. When he ceased working early in 2006 because of ill health, there were no unfinished jobs and no need for outside help to clean the slate. His diligence and inventive spirit should inspire us all.
Posted on January 11, 2010May 14, 2025 by Dale Phillips In Memoriam: Nicholas Von Robison In Memoriam: Nicholas Von Robison Passed June, 2000 by Tim Olsen Originally published in American Lutherie #63, 2000 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume Six, 2013 How well I remember the first letter we got from Nick. He told of being introduced at a party as a “Master Craftsman.” At first he was flattered, but was quickly brought back to reality when the local birdhouse tinkerer was also identified as a “Master Craftsman.” That was in 1982. Nick and I kept up a lively and voluminous correspondence for the next eighteen years. Nick was a GAL member for twenty-three years. As a kid, Nick was in a rock band with his big brother called The Hatfields, and they actually put out a single in the ’60s. He also did a stint in a hippie combo modeled along the lines of Captain Beefheart’s Magic Band. His later musical taste ran to playing Japanese flutes. He worked as an amateur luthier, and then began the enormous project of singlehandedly building a good-sized wooden sailboat. He had completed a lot of the fittings and had a good start on the hull when a fire at the space he was renting deferred his dream. He often wrote of his plan to sail to Bora Bora and Tahiti. But he did get around. He spent a summer hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, and recently he had discovered sea kayaking. He was an avid fly fisherman and had some articles published in fishing magazines. And remember the big hoo-ha about the Mojave Phone Booth a year or two ago? Nick was the discoverer of the Mojave Phone Booth. It’s a long story, but a well-documented one. Photo by Dale Blindheim. Nick was a GAL True Believer. We published many of his articles over the years, and he served for a time as an Associate Editor of American Lutherie. His academic and practical knowledge of botany and wood anatomy was particularly valuable. He was our go-to guy for all wood identification questions and was the major contributor to our book Lutherie Woods and Steel String Guitars. He had a special commitment to the Guild’s benefit auction, spending hours tending the preview at conventions, as well as donating many items and paying ridiculous prices for others. The Guild owes Nick a particular debt of gratitude for talking me into getting e-mail, then hounding me into agreeing to try out a web page for the Guild. Back in the primitive 14.4k days of 1995, he developed the page, got it up on the web, and proceeded to maintain and improve it for another couple years, all as a volunteer. To date we have had more than 170,000 hits on our page, and half our annual income flows through it. I only saw Nick a few times, at GAL Conventions and once when he came through town on a vacation. Still, he was a close friend. Our correspondence covered everything from God and Man to rock ’n’ roll. They tell me Nick took his own life in the first days of June. I really can’t believe it. It just does not fit with the rest of the story. It seems a lot more like he’s finally off on that long journey to Bora Bora, and some day he’ll tell me all about it. I’m going to think of it that way.
