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Gimme Back My Minutes

Gimme Back My Minutes

by Rick Turner

previously published in American Lutherie #26, 1991 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie, Volume Three, 2004



I’d like to share a couple of things with those in the repair business: how I handle the financial end of repair work, and what I’m trying to do to gain back some of the eight to ten hours a week I currently lose talking to customers.

I do repair work for Westwood Music in Los Angeles, working as an independent contractor. I set my own hours, use my own tools, pay for my own worker’s compensation insurance, and establish the prices for the repair work. There is one other part-time repairman, David Neely, and he works the same way I do. Prices for repair work are set for each job either by direct quote from our price list or an estimate of time at $50 per hour. On big jobs or for building custom Strats from generic parts I drop the hourly to $45; I figure there’s less time wasted talking on bigger jobs. Our store sales people sometimes take in the work (the more of that the better), and they might make a ballpark estimate. We in the shop usually call the customer to give a closer price and/or suggest additional needed work.

When the job is complete, I fill out a four-part sequentially-numbered store invoice which includes labor, retail-parts cost (at the net-to-musician price — we figure any applicable discounts), sales tax, and the invoice total. I keep a copy which I use to bill the store, and the second copy goes on a clipboard in sequential order. The instrument, along with the two remaining copies, is put in the front of the store in the “to be picked up” pile. When the customer picks up the instrument, he or she gets a copy, and the remaining copy is filed with the store’s daily receipts.

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Dissolving the Mysteries

Dissolving the Mysteries

by Graham Caldersmith

previously published in Guild of American Luthiers Quarterly Volume 10, #4, 1982 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume One, 2001



We live in confusing times where progress in understanding the natural world, and in manipulating nature to our advantage has spawned an ever-changing technological environment that seems beyond our own control, and even beyond our comprehension in its scale and complexity. We are beginning to see organized reaction against technological excess, and movements towards simpler ways of living. Most luthiers are aware that the practical and traditional practice of lutherie is being analyzed and even supplemented by scientific methods, and some feel that the dignity and integrity of the traditions are therefore threatened as we redefine and dissolve the mysteries of lutherie.

I would argue that the greatest system of lutherie to date, the Renaissance-Baroque school of violin making emerged in times of devastating plague and recurring war, when the orthodoxy of creation and nature was being challenged by Galileo and Copernicus in centers not far from Brescia, Cremona, and southern Germany. In fact we know that because the centers of Baroque violin making lay on the trade routes through which the latest news in science, art, and technology flowed with trade merchandise. The great masters of lutherie would have been exposed to new concepts in vibration, pitch, and wave motion which they would find difficult to ignore in their experience of wood vibration at the workbench. How they dealt with it is not recorded, but that they produced unsurpassed masterpieces in bowed instruments is undisputed.

Contemporary luthiers live in times of social upheaval, war, and pollution, but also with a growing body of knowledge about the function of the instruments they make. It remains to be seen how we will react to this environment, but already we have seen a variety of new designs for the guitar, and the vital interaction of luthiers with pioneering guitarists.

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What You Should Know About The Hardanger Fiddle

What You Should Know About

The Hardanger Fiddle

by David Golber

Previously published in American Lutherie #36, 1993 and The Big Red Book of American Lutherie, Volume Three, 2004



Someone has walked into your shop with yet another weird instrument. This time, it’s sort of like a violin, but it has a whole lot of pegs, the top is carved funny, it has pearl and bone inlay, and it’s decorated with flowery drawings. He says his grandfather brought it from Norway in 1890, and he wants you to put it in playing condition.

Well, it’s a Hardanger fiddle (hardingfele in Norwegian). The instrument originated in the area around the Hardanger fjord, whence its name. It is distinctly Norwegian; in fact, it is played in only about a quarter of Norway, the western and south-central areas. The oldest instrument found has a date of 1651. The musical tradition is still very much alive, and continues unbroken up to the present.

Beginning in about 1850, there was an absolutely enormous emigration from Norway to America — something like a third of the population. Those who played fiddle of course brought their fiddles with them. In addition there were tours by professional players who performed for their emigrated countrymen and then returned to Norway. But the instrument and the music died out in America. The children of the immigrants rarely learned to play, and father’s fiddle lay in its case in the attic, or was hung on the wall like an icon of a lost era. Now there is something like a revival here in America, not only among the descendants of the immigrants, but also among those not of Norwegian ancestry who have discovered the music.

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Meet the Maker: Dan Kabanuck

Meet the Maker: Dan Kabanuck

by Roger Alan Skipper

previously published in American Lutherie #104, 2010



Dan, you look familiar, yet you’re from my opposite side of the country, and you’re new to lutherie.

I’ve met scores of luthiers, spoken to hundreds more, and processed thousands of your orders. I’m a customer service rep at Luthiers Mercantile International, LMI, and you probably saw my picture gracing page four of the latest catalog, holding the “new LMI Shred-o-matic ‘Dandolin’ guitar kit.” It’s not a real instrument, by the way; several people have asked. I was in the middle of building my electric guitar when my picture was taken, and I grabbed a ukulele neck and held it on my body, and Chris Herrod snapped a picture. Chris is the Sales Manager, and the most brilliant person at LMI — he hired me!


Your first two instruments, an OM-sized acoustic and a Les Paul electric, seem several cuts above most beginning luthiers’, with marvelous wood and beautiful detail and finish. Do you have a woodworking background?

I actually sold real estate for sixteen years — I’m a licensed broker — but burnout and a tanking market led me to find a real job. My woodworking background is fairly limited: shop classes as a kid and some construction work in my late teens. Quite often I’d do repairs on the homes I was selling rather than deal with a contractor. My father is a furniture refinisher and repairman, so I’ve learned some of that. I’m by nature an arts-and-crafts person and have a general knowledge of tools.

I discovered LMI just over three years ago on Craigslist. When I started, I had no lutherie knowledge, and had never considered building an instrument. I wanted to be able to talk intelligently about LMI’s products and how they work, and my nature urged me to build not one, but a couple of guitars.

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Herr Helmholtz’ Tube

Herr Helmholtz’ Tube

by Mike Doolin

previously published in American Lutherie #91, 2007

See also,
“There’s a Hole in the Bucket” by Cyndy Burton
“Sideways” by John Monteleone
“Three Holes are Better than One” by Robert Ruck



Design innovator Mike Doolin tried an interesting experiment. Mike’s guitars have the distinctive double-cutaway feature and they don’t lend themselves to a port up in the neck/cutaway region for reasons of underlying structure. So Mike put one in the lower bout and very unexpectedly found his Helmholtz resonance had raised something like a major third. He felt that compromised the responses of the guitar. His solution was to “tube it.”

The side was ported before I assembled the guitar. After gluing the back on, I realized the change in the Helmholtz when I tapped on the guitar with the port open. It seemed obvious that a shift of a major third up was going to radically change the sound of the guitar, probably killing most of the bass response. I knew that ports in bass reflex speakers are often tubes, where the longer the tube the lower the resonant frequency. I also knew that the tube could be either inside or outside the box. So I initially held a roll of toilet paper against the port, letting the cardboard core of the roll form a tube that extended the port. That dropped the main air resonance back down, showing me that I was on the right track. Then I turned a tube of wood on my lathe to fit the hole and experimented with the length until the air resonance moved less than a half-step with the port closed or open. I recall the port being 1 1/4" in diameter and the tube being about 2 1/4" long, but that’s just from memory.

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