Posted on February 20, 2026February 20, 2026 by Dale Phillips Torres Guitar Restoration Torres Guitar Restoration by R.E. Bruné Originally published in American Lutherie #33, 1993 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie, Volume Three, 2004 In March of 1986 I received in my workshop an 11-string guitar by Antonio Torres made in Almeria in 1884, and numbered #71. This instrument being perhaps unique in the world today for Torres’ work, it was imperative that it be adequately documented and ideally, restored as close as possible to original playing condition. The owner was quite anxious to pursue this course also, with the ultimate goal of selling it on the open market. Surviving guitars by Torres are quite rare, being limited to fewer than seventy known instruments, and this example is perhaps the only 11-string example remaining, although Prat alludes to two others in his Diccionario under the listing for Torres. It is not clear whether he is referring to the same instrument owned by several different people or different instruments owned by different people. Although Torres numbered his instruments made from 1880 until he died in 1892, apparently there is no surviving record of the details of each instrument nor who the original owners were. (Editor’s Note: After this article was written, José Romanillos published his excellent book, Antonio de Torres, Guitar Maker — His Life and Work. In it he presents photos, drawings, and descriptions of another surviving Torres 11-string, #83. Author Bruné urges all to acquire and study this book.) 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 15, 2026January 15, 2026 by Dale Phillips Chalk-fitting Guitar Braces Chalk-fitting Guitar Braces by Stephen Marchione from his 2017 GAL Convention workshop Originally published in American Lutherie #140, 2020 First, have a plan. Know what you’re making. It seems like an obvious thing, but sometimes people start a guitar without a good idea of what the brace layout will be. When I design a new model, I’ll often get a piece of aluminum flashing and lay out a bracing template. If you’re building an historical model, you can transfer the blueprint to a template of aluminum or plexiglas. This gives you a clear idea of what your braces are supposed to be doing, and it lets you be sure that the braces end up where they were designed to go. Photo 1 is a closeup of one of my bracing templates. I use the little holes to make pencil marks on the soundboard. On a classical guitar, a lot of builders push the big harmonic bars down into the solera, or dished workboard. But that can cause distortion of the top. Even on a Spanish guitar, I take the time to chalk-fit the brace. That gives a better structure with less stress. I highly recommend it. Become A Member to Continue Reading This Article This article is part of the Articles Online featured on our website for Guild members. To view this and other web articles, join the Guild of American Luthiers. For details, visit the membership page. MEMBERS: login for access or contact us to setup your account.
Posted on January 15, 2026January 15, 2026 by Dale Phillips Evolving the Dished Workboard Evolving the Dished Workboard by John Calkin Originally published in American Lutherie #65, 2001 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie, Volume Six, 2013 For my money, the dished workboard is one of the most important lutherie inventions ever, making it possible for even rookies to build guitars that are precisely and tightly put together. I’d like to suggest ways to make them more useful. First, though, let’s make it clear what the heck we’re talking about. Guitars were initially built with flat tops. Classical guitars (and not a few steel strings) were built on a flat workboard that more resembled a tabletop than a piece of movable gear, since it was the size of the entire instrument, neck included. The construction method using the Spanish foot required this size, since the neck became a structural part of the body. Mechanical joints such as the dovetail or bolts freed the luthier to build the body and neck as separate units, and the workboard was reduced to a laminated rectangle the size of the body, and was often dispensed with altogether when the body was built inside a mold. In 1975 David Russell Young published The Steel String Guitar, the first guitar construction book recommending domed tops. Young, however, made no mention of the dished workboard, but used more primitive methods to achieve the domed top. It wasn’t until the late ’80s that the spherically domed guitar top began to catch on. (Forgive me if I simply call them SDTs.) The easiest way to build SDTs was on top of a spherically dished workboard, which came on the market about that time. (Let’s not call them SDWs; I’ll explain why in a bit.) The merits of SDTs are not at all obvious to musicians, nor are all luthiers convinced that they are the way to go, but an important thing happened here. Guitar backs have always been arched, and fitting an arched back to a set of bent sides equipped with lining and end blocks has always been one of the bugaboos of lutherie. It’s not easy to do in a professional manner. But with one simple step, it became possible to fit perfectly arched braces to a perfectly arched back, and then to fit the entire assembly to perfectly shaped ribs. Become A Member to Continue Reading This Article This article is part of the Articles Online featured on our website for Guild members. To view this and other web articles, join the Guild of American Luthiers. For details, visit the membership page. MEMBERS: login for access or contact us to setup your account.
Posted on July 15, 2025July 15, 2025 by Dale Phillips An American in Mirecourt, Part Two An American in Mirecourt, Part Two Violin Construction as Learned by an Apprentice to René Morizot by Paul Schuback from his 1995 GAL Convention workshop Originally published in American Lutherie #65, 2001 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume Six, 2013 See also, An American in Mirecourt by Paul Schuback Roughing Out the Insides of Plates and Cutting f-holes After the outsides of the plates have been carved and scraped to their finished shapes and the purfling has been installed, the next step is to trace the f-holes onto the top. The f-holes will be cut out after the inside of the plate has been roughed out and the plate is thinner, but this is the time when you establish their positions. Measure 19.3MM from the edge of the plate at the neck end to find the bridge position on the centerline, and locate your f-hole template by referencing off of the bridge position and the centerline of the top. You can play with how they are angled to suit your own tastes. Trace the f-holes onto the top, and check to make sure that they end up an equal distance from the edges by measuring with a divider. The French always carve little hollows where the lower wings of the f-holes will go so that those areas will be recessed on the finished top. So after you have traced the f-holes, you gouge, plane, and scrape the wing areas out a little bit. In the process, you will cut away parts of your lines, so you will need to retrace them. Become A Member to Continue Reading This Article This article is part of the Articles Online featured on our website for Guild members. To view this and other web articles, join the Guild of American Luthiers. Members also receive 3 annual issues of American Lutherie and get discounts on products. For details, visit the membership page. MEMBERS: login for access or contact us to setup your account.
Posted on June 3, 2025June 20, 2025 by Dale Phillips Resurrecting the Family Banjo Resurrecting the Family Banjo by John Calkin Originally published in American Lutherie #84, 2005 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume Seven, 2015 Though the title says banjo, this could as easily be about any stringed instrument. We’ve all seen them, the family “heirloom” that some relative has decided deserves to be played again, perhaps because they think it will be cheaper than buying a comparable new one, but more likely for some sentimental reason. The number of such beaters you actually get to work on may vary with your locality. Sentimentality didn’t count for much in New Jersey, and I had a collection of junky guitars that had been abandoned once the concerned relative learned what the cost of resurrection would be. Virginians, on the other hand, seem to put more stock in sentimentality and I’ve had the chance to rebuild several instruments that probably weren’t worth the fee I charged. Though this is about restoring an instrument to playability, please understand that we’re not talking about restoration as a vintage specialist would understand it. That sort of restoration often requires specialized knowledge and may demand a lot of research as well as the exchange of hefty sums of cash. It’s not much fun, either, unless you suffer a certain type of personality. In fact, some of what you and your customer may decide to do may interfere with future restoration, so it pays to have some idea of what’s collectable and what’s not. Become A Member to Continue Reading This Article This article is part of the Articles Online featured on our website for Guild members. To view this and other web articles, join the Guild of American Luthiers. For details, visit the membership page. MEMBERS: login for access or contact us to setup your account.
