Posted on January 18, 2010February 6, 2024 by Dale Phillips In Memoriam: Jonathon Peterson In Memoriam: Jonathon Peterson March 14, 1953 – February 15, 2022 by GAL Staff, Jeffrey R. Elliott, Cyndy Burton, and Woodley White Originally published in American Lutherie #145, 2021 We were very sad when we learned that former longtime GAL Staffer Jonathon Peterson had passed away suddenly. If you’ve been a member a while, or if you have attended any GAL Conventions in the last few decades, you’ll remember Jon as the guy behind the camera and the author of many articles in American Lutherie. Jon worked for the Guild from 1987 until 2011. He started out doing clerical tasks and darkroom work, and through years of on-the-job training and experience, became a prolific writer and photographer for the Guild. He made many personal connections with the luthiers he interviewed for our “Meet the Maker” articles, and was one of the regulars at the NW Handmade Musical Instrument Exhibit in Portland. Probably Jon’s most notable accomplishment during his more than two decades with the Guild was photographing and documenting Robert Lundberg’s lute-building process over the course of several years. The articles produced through the collaboration of Bob and Jon eventually resulted in the Guild’s book, Historical Lute Construction, the premier book on the subject. Rest in peace, Jon. — GAL Staff At the 2006 Convention. Photo by Robert Desmond. At the 2008 Convention. Photo by Hap Newsom. Jon Peterson excelled as a husband, a father, a friend, a luthier, a 6´4˝ dancer, a photographer, a writer, a story teller, a collector of vinyl records and bicycles, and a cyclist extraordinaire among other talents. What stands out for me is that Jon always seemed to have a certain calm about him. It has been there the entire forty-five years I have known him, ever since the 1977 GAL Convention, where we camped out in a teepee pitched in the backyard of Jon’s in-laws. I came to know and love this kind, gentle, and compassionate man, who seemed to easily roll with whatever life threw at him. He had a kind of knowing way about him, as if his understanding of the bigger picture was in tune with the universe, and he was at peace with it. I’ll miss him dearly. — Jeffrey R. Elliott Ever since he died, I’ve been thinking about Jon and all the years that have seemingly slipped by since the 1980 GAL Convention in San Francisco. For reasons I don’t know, I hear him saying, “Don’t trouble trouble till trouble troubles you.” I know Jon’s life was not without troubles, and yet he inspired people to be better partly by his example and more than anything, his warmth and empathy. He had the ability to convey acceptance and encouragement. Our paths crossed at Conventions, in our work for the GAL, and in our living room and at the kitchen table. His GAL work included luthier interviews and many other articles that provided and continue to provide a bounty of useful information to share with the readers of American Lutherie along with many of the books the GAL has published, particularly Jon’s direct work with Robert Lundberg on the Historical Lute Construction book. I’d like to think that Jon is somewhere admiring the enormity of the great unknown and has, of course, already made friends with other sentient beings. — Cyndy Burton Jon Peterson at the 1980 GAL Convention. Photo by Dale Korsmo. We who work with wood, almost automatically sense that we are engulfed in a thick orchestration of life and death. Fresh green things sprout beside the decay of fallen giants. The mulch of generations of leaves and branches fertilizes every manner of plant, fungus, tree, flower, or spider. Life emerges from death, and death from life, at every turn in the trail. It feels as if the earth is absolutely incapable of not producing life at every opportunity. The constancy of it, the relentless expansion and contraction of life and death is so insistently miraculous that we only become more and more quiet in the presence of this endless cycle. Such is our life. We are born, we live a while, and then we die. It’s true of every living thing. Taken at face value, it makes us seem so small, or insignificant. In the midst of such impermanence, how can our meager, individual lives possibly achieve any real meaning? All beings live and die; billions of lives on earth arise and pass away. Whole worlds are born and then destroyed. Entire galaxies come into being and then dissolve. What possible value can a single, modest human life have in this breathtaking cacophony of life and death? When I think of my friend, Jon Peterson, I want to say, “the value of a single life shines brightly.” A single rose, a single star, a single note of sweet music played at the right moment — these are things of great beauty and wonder. All that we do becomes embedded in the whole; because of this, our every day — our every word, every act of kindness, love, or beauty — is an invaluable opportunity to contribute to the growth and beauty of all things. With our single life, we change the shape of the universe. With his single life, Jonathon has changed the shape of our world. I really loved my friend and I will miss him. I loved his dry sense of humor, the crinkle in the corner of his mouth when he smiled; his pony tail; the sparkle in his eyes. I loved his thoughtfulness. I was surprised when he rode his bicycle down from Tacoma to Portland with his son and then all over Portland. I loved his appreciation for life and for love and for guitar making and his place in this universe, his generosity, his commitment. I remember asking if he thought I could handle a guitar repair one day and he said, ”That all depends on how skilled you are with a scraper.” That comment sticks with me twenty-five years later. One time we were at Jeff and Cyndy’s house with Jim Kline evaluating two sister guitars I had made and we were talking about what we thought of them and Jon interrupted and said, “I disagree with you. The guitar with the stronger trebles will become the better instrument over time as the midrange and bass open up.” He wasn’t shy about expressing his opinion. In the shadow of his death, we ask ourselves, how will we live? How will we let the gentle, loving strength of his life color ours? A clear perception of death invites us to consider our life as something worth living; an active, creative, passionate event. Life is impermanent. It is precisely because of its impermanence that we should value it dearly. I am thankful for his life and for all the friends I have made in the GAL universe. — Woodley White
Posted on January 18, 2010February 7, 2024 by Dale Phillips In Memoriam: G.D. (George) Armstrong In Memoriam: G.D. (George) Armstrong August 16, 1946 — April 4, 2022 by GAL Staff Originally published in American Lutherie #146, 2022 G.D. Armstrong of Yamhill, Oregon, was a familiar and welcome face to any members who came to a GAL Convention in the last few decades. He attended at least eight, going back to 1995, and was a Guild member continuously since 1987. He was also a regular exhibitor at the NW Handmade Musical Instrument Exhibit held in the Portland, Oregon, area for many years. Both photos by Tim Olsen. George made his first instrument, a cigar box banjo, at age ten, and continued to build and repair instruments for the rest of his life. He had many interests and talents: He was an “aspiring mountain man” as a boy; studied forestry and worked for the US Forest Service; worked as a ship’s carpenter; started a farm as part of the back-to-the-land movement, raising farm animals, vegetables, and honeybees; and designed and built a spacious house and workshop where his instrument building grew into a career. G.D. built a variety of instruments including dulcimers, banjos, bouzoukis, mandolins, and guitars (from traditional tenors to electrics), and had customers around the world. He was the proprietor of the Newberg Music Center in Newberg, Oregon, where he repaired instruments. Here’s how a few of his friends remembered G.D.: “He was a brilliant, funny, and kind man who made some pretty epic bouzoukis.” “He was an incredible musician, luthier, and human being and was always kind and generous with his time and talents.” “A kinder, bigger, heart never walked this earth.” We always looked forward to seeing G.D. at the Guild Conventions. His warm and gentle spirit will be missed by his many friends in the music and lutherie communities. There’s a lovely short documentary about George on YouTube called The Instrument Maker, which gives a little insight into his life and work. Rest in peace, George.
Posted on January 17, 2010February 6, 2024 by Dale Phillips In Memoriam: Dell Staton In Memoriam: Dell Staton by H.E. Huttig Originally published in American Lutherie #19, 1989 Miami has been hit with a number of losses just recently. Everardo Lopez, a fine Cuban guitar builder and Salvado Mayo, a performer and friend of Everardo died in a car accident. Then there was Marino, a fine performer of both folkloric and classical music. Jose Fernandez was another impeccable craftsman, a maker of concert grade guitars. I own a guitar made by Jose, and it is the favorite of Carlos Barbossa-Lima to use while visiting us. Lastly, there is Dell Staton, a terrific jazz guitarist, inventor, and repair expert. The untimely death of Dell Staton is keenly felt in Miami guitar circles. I met Dell in the ’60s through Juan Mercadal. Dell was born on a farm and wanted to play guitar ever since he saw one from a distance. He finally got one, probably a Stella, and being left handed, he played it upside down with the bass strings on the bottom. He progressed so far that it was too late to change the strings when he found out about it. Dell Staton with members of the Miami Guitar Society in the ’60s. That’s Dell with the guitarron and Marjory Morton playing the guitar. I don’t know the name of the lady at the left, but the others are (L to R) Hart Huttig, Chico Taylor, Juan Mercadal, and Dr. and Mrs. Bohn. Photo courtesy of H.E. Huttig. Dell served with the U.S. forces in Germany and was billeted with a German family of guitar builders in Saxony. Though Dell was the enemy, the Germans took to him and he became like one of the family. When he was to leave, he tried to board a truck in the convoy, but being the last man in line, he was told to take the next truck as they were too full. That truck hit a landmine and all the soldiers were killed. When Dell left, the Germans gave him one of their own guitars, a beauty made of flamed maple with the workmanship of the violin maker. Beside being a greatly talented artist, Dell made inventions and did repairs. He took the bass pedals from an electric organ and played bass accompaniment with his feet. He bent a wire coat hanger and put it between the guitar strings behind the bridge to make the first vibrato device. Dell was a consummate jazz artist but he also played classical music well despite the handicap of the string arrangement.
Posted on January 17, 2010February 7, 2024 by Dale Phillips In Memoriam: Graham Caldersmith In Memoriam: Graham Caldersmith November 26, 1943 – October 5, 2019 by Juan Oscar Azaret Originally published in American Lutherie #140, 2020 As the devastating 2019/2020 Australian bush fires raged on and the world was filled with news and images of the relentless infernos, I started to wonder about the well-being of my friend in lutherie, Graham Caldersmith, and his partner, Angela MacPherson. I’d had the good fortune to spend a day at their home/workshop/bistro in Comboyne, New South Wales, in August of 2017 (see AL#132). This magical day was full of adventure: the trip to the Comboyne Plateau, warm hospitality on the part of Graham and Angela, and a wealth of education in the few hours I spent there. In January of this year I was getting ready to e-mail Graham to ask about the state of the bush fires in the Comboyne area, when I got an e-mail from my friend Gila Eban, who had been having similar thoughts. In her attempts to contact Graham, she had learned of his passing in October of 2019. I was greatly saddened by this news and felt compelled to share some thoughts in memoriam. Both photos courtesy of Angela MacPherson In time I was able to get on the phone with Angela. She and Graham had recently moved away from the rural hamlet of Comboyne to the seaside town of North Haven some 44km to the East. Angela was most gracious to chat for quite some time and catch me up with the last two-plus years since my visit as well as educate me a bit on Graham’s life. Coincidentally, I had just received the latest issue of Acoustics Today where the cover and feature article were dedicated to the life of Carleen Hutchins. I thought of Graham and the parallels in these two lives. Both started their careers as science teachers. Both played stringed instruments and taught themselves lutherie early in life. Both became fascinated by the science and craft of the violin family, and for Graham, also the guitar family. Both were influenced by noted scientists; Frederick Saunders and Daniel Haines in the case of Carleen, Neville Fletcher and Erik Jansson in the case of Graham. They both took on the challenge of lifelong search for the fundamentals of acoustics in lutherie, sharing their findings through many scholarly articles and lectures. And they each evolved a family of proportional instruments to cover the orchestral range — Carleen’s violin octet, and Graham guitar quintet. Of course, Graham and Carleen’s paths did cross. In 1982, Graham travelled to the USA to work with Carleen on various aspects of violin performance and participate in the Conference of the Catgut Acoustical Society in DeKalb, Illinois. Carleen was a founding member of the Catgut Acoustical Society dating back to 1963, and membership has included the top music acousticians from around the world; names such as Benade, Fletcher, Hutchins, Meyer, Saunders, and Rossing. Graham contributed no fewer than thirteen articles to the society, starting in 1977. The proceedings of the Catgut Acoustical Society are now digitized and available from the Stanford Musical Acoustics Research Library. While still in the northern hemisphere in 1982, Graham also attended the GAL Convention in Estes Park, Colorado. Later that year he contributed his first publication to American Lutherie — “Dissolving the Mysteries,” a title which, in his AL#2 (1985) article, “Radiation from Lower Guitar Modes” Graham describes as “perhaps presumptuous.” A longtime member and supporter of the Guild, Graham contributed several other stellar articles. In his AL#41 (1995) article, “The Guitar Family Continued,” he comes full circle from the work introduced in AL#18 (1989) “Towards a Classic Guitar Family,” and details the status of what has become a major contribution to the world of guitar lutherie and performance — a proportional guitar family quintet covering the orchestral range. In my AL#132 (2017) article, I attempt to summarize Graham’s thoughts on the guitar family during our visit in his Comboyne workshop. On a less formal note, in AL#8 (1986) Graham and fellow Australian luthier Jim Williams document a “beer and jawbone” discussion with Greg Smallman which offers a fascinating look at Greg’s thinking during the early years preceding the first sale of a Smallman guitar to John Williams in 1981. Graham was a luthier of the highest caliber, crafting over 200 guitars, 116 violins, 60 violas, and 38 cellos, but he was also an academic and a researcher. He held a masters in aerophysics from the Australian National University in Canberra with focus on fluid dynamics. While working as a laboratory manager and physics tutor, he started independent research into musical acoustics, and in 1977 began formal studies in acoustics under Neville Fletcher at the University of New England in Armidale and later with Erik Jansson in Stockholm. He was awarded several grants and research fellowships including from the Australian Council on Research, a Churchill Fellowship, ANU, and in 2016 was awarded the Order of Australia Medal for his service to musical instrument making. His work is documented, not only in American Lutherie and Catgut Acoustical Society Journal, but also Journal of the Acoustical Society of America, Journal of the Violin Society of America, Journal of Guitar Acoustics, The Strad, Acustica, and others. It is indeed rare to find an individual with the commitment and tenacity to earn his/her living as a craftsperson while at the same time researching the craft’s relations to science and making these findings available to the world. In my discussions with Angela, she mentioned that Graham considered the evolution of a proportional guitar family and the introduction of native Australian woods to lutherie as his greatest professional achievements. Graham researched, and was a strong advocate of, the use of King William pine, Australian blackwood, and Australian paulownia, among others, for the construction of guitars and violin-family instruments. I knew Graham through the lens of his lutherie and scientific work, but in my discussions with Angela I learned a bit about Graham as a man. I learned of his days as a folk musician; his participation in theater; his love of poetry and contribution to it from the humorous perspective; his love of nature; his fix-anything, jack-of-all-trades skills; his days as a volunteer fire fighter; his work as a sound/light stage technician. I dare not attempt to comment on these aspects of Graham’s life, but Angela graciously provided some photos which hopefully will be illustrative. They will be posted in the “web extras” section of this issue on the GAL website, along with links to many of his publications. Graham Caldersmith was born on November 26, 1943, in Sydney. He lived and worked in Canberra, Kendall, Comboyne, and North Haven. He passed away on October 5, 2019, in Wauchope after a five-year battle with multiple myeloma; suspected, but not confirmed, as being due to exposure to the chemicals of the lutherie trade. He is survived in his immediate family by an older brother, and by his partner Angela MacPherson. I am honored to have known Graham and met Angela, and to have had the opportunity to write these few words.
Posted on January 17, 2010February 7, 2024 by Dale Phillips In Memoriam: Felix Manzanero In Memoriam: Felix Manzanero July 27, 1937 – August 18, 2019 by Ronald Luis Fernández Originally published in American Lutherie #139, 2020 By 1966, my father, John Fernández, was importing guitars from Félix Manzanero Cabrera. He sold most of them through Seiko Sesoko in Anaheim. Some of these were bought by Laurindo Almeida and Manitas de Plata. I got to know Félix in 1967 when I attended summer school at the Universidad de Madrid. His shop was the first working shop I had seen, and I was amazed. We became friends and occasionally stayed out late, visiting strange eateries or playing tangos on his laud and my guitar in local mesons (traditional taverns). Among my memories in his shop was meeting Sabicas when he returned to Spain after a thirty-year absence, and playing farrucas with his brother, Diego. Photo courtesy of Iván Manzanero Félix was born in 1937 in Madrid during the Spanish Civil War. His father was a musician. At age fourteen he apprenticed at the shop of José Ramírez II, where he spent twelve years. He made over a thousand guitars there, and those guitars are identified by his initials stamped inside. I once repaired a “Ramírez” flamenco owned by Neil Diamond identified by that stamp. Of significance is the fact that Félix was making guitars under José Ramírez III, during the time that the modern 1a classical, which Andrés Segovia eventually embraced, was evolving. In 1964, Félix opened a store at 12 Calle Santa Ana in the La Latina section of Madrid. There he built Madrid-school guitars from old wood and taught his two sons to do the same. He also built experimental instruments such as an elliptical guitar, one without braces, several with soundboards of both cedar and spruce, and a laud with twelve sympathetic strings. He developed a method for testing soundboards before permanently affixing them to the body. Over the decades of his career he acquired over a hundred old instruments dating back to the 18th century. This collection is presently available for viewing on the web at: www.guitarrasmanzanero.com. In 1985 he was invited by the Mexican Government to present a course on Spanish guitar construction in Paracho, Michoacán. This was an important opportunity for Mexican makers. German Vazquez Rubio in Los Angeles, California, told me he attended that course. My friend Félix was fun to be with; warm, friendly, and open. He loved his wife and family. He liked to travel. He drove all over Spain. He came to visit California a few times and hand-carried an unvarnished flamenco to me. He went to Cuba and Egypt with his wife. I would refer people to see him in Madrid, and he would take them to his local bar-restaurant across the street and treat them royally. Félix had a thick Madrid accent. His family had been in Madrid for many generations. Félix had a brother Pedro who had worked at the Ramírez shop and apparently did repairs, but I never met him. He is survived by his charming wife Soledad and his sons, Félix Jr. and Iván. Iván makes guitars, preserves the collection, and runs the business in the original shop. Oh, yes, before I forget: comedies and ham. Félix loved Spanish dried ham. In his Madrid flat he had a full leg of Patas Negras (the best Spanish ham) on a special holding device for easy access. And in his living room he had small statues of the Marx Brothers and Laurel and Hardy. Adios, Félix.
