Posted on June 21, 2019May 23, 2025 by Dale Phillips Fabio’s Excellent Nicaraguan Adventure Fabio’s Excellent Nicaraguan Adventure by Mike Moger previously published in American Lutherie #93, 2008 Fabio Ragghianti walked into the open-air market on a hot day in Jalapa, Nicaragua, to buy some fruit. He had been in town for three days, and the food he was used to eating was back in his home town of Pietrasanta, in Tuscany. A boy looking about sixteen or seventeen helped him pick out some oranges and apples, and quickly asked him in Spanish, “How much does it cost to learn how to build a guitar?” Our classical guitar building class had started nine days earlier, in February 2007. My son, Abram, was with me, and together, the three of us were to teach five eager students the finer points of building good guitars. Men and boys, and a few ladies, had stopped by the open shop every day to see us work. A local TV reporter (the only one in town) interviewed us about what we were doing, and people asked how much it would cost to buy a good guitar. Guitars had been largely absent since Nicaragua had fought the Contra-Sandinista war. The town of Jalapa, Nicaragua is located in the northern mountains, just south of Honduras. It was hit hard in the war when the Contras stationed themselves in Honduras. Jalapa stood between them and the Nicaraguan capital, Managua. 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 June 20, 2019May 28, 2025 by Dale Phillips Guitar Swap! Guitar Swap! guitars and text by John Calkin and Steve Kinnaird previously published in American Lutherie #81, 2005 John Calkin: When I suggested to Texas luthier Steve Kinnaird that we build each other a guitar I had no specific agenda in mind. Though I spend my work weeks building acoustic guitar bodies for Huss & Dalton, I feel it’s important to build an occasional complete instrument just to keep in practice. Company policy prevented me from building flattops for sale but not from building for trade or gift. And frankly, I had enough nice guitars sitting around the house that I didn’t feel like building another for myself. Trading guitars with Steve sounded like fun. We were already good friends who trusted each other, and we knew each other’s work well enough to know that we were on equal footing as luthiers. Most of the fun for me was in not telling Steve what I wanted or expected in my guitar. He, too, decided that surprise would be the most delicious element of the swap. 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 June 20, 2019May 14, 2025 by Dale Phillips Searching for Blue Significance Searching for Blue Significance by John Calkin previously published in American Lutherie #56, 1998 I guess I heard about Scott Chinery’s collection of blue guitars at the same time as everyone else. The photo of a necklace of sky-colored archtops lounging on the grass appeared in magazines well outside the field of music. And my reaction was probably the same as everyone else’s — where does this guy get his money? I was glad Chinery had dumped so much bread into the lutherie community, but otherwise I didn’t see the point. So when the staid Smithsonian Institution decided to house the collection for awhile, I was amused and confounded. What was going on here? I knew two things for sure. First, as a connoisseur of vintage instruments and a collector of wide renown, Scott Chinery was a man to be reckoned with. In the early ’90s he made a short video (available from Stew-Mac) which skimmed off some of the creamier bits of his collection for the home viewer, and let’s just say that any one piece would make any musician’s day turn golden. If the above question about his money seems rude, you should know that Chinery is very up-front about the subject on video and freely talks about what he paid for certain pieces and what sort of tempting offers he has refused for his vintage groovies. My friend and guitar teacher, Mitch Block, played a party at Chinery’s New Jersey home and came back stupefied by the shear quantity of fine (not to mention important) guitars he saw there. 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 June 20, 2019May 26, 2025 by Dale Phillips A Tale of Two Schools A Tale of Two Schools by Fred Carlson previously published in American Lutherie #53, 1998 In 1975 I was a skinny nineteen-year-old with a small beard and a big passion for making wooden musical instruments, living in a commune in northern Vermont. That fall, I had an extraordinary experience. It was one of those experiences that we are blessed with once or twice in our lives if we’re lucky. I had the opportunity to spend six weeks studying guitar building at a small school devoted to that art, run by a man named Charles Fox. Nearly twenty years later, in the spring of 1995, I found myself on the other side of the continent in Santa Cruz, California, my beard shaved off, still building guitars, and still using those few simple, elegant techniques I’d learned twenty years earlier. I’d long ago lost touch with Charles Fox, but in a very real way he was with me. For many years I had a tattered old blue notebook, my guitar-building bible of notes taken during those six weeks spent with Charles and five other young, crazy, would-be guitar builders. I had referred to those notes time and time again. I’m sure I had parts of them memorized. During my big move west in 1989, the notebook was misplaced, and I have yet to find it. Although I lost an old friend with the passing of that worn volume, I discovered that I had learned its lessons. I could build guitars without it! 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 June 19, 2019May 21, 2025 by Dale Phillips A Friendly Interview with Donald Warnock A Friendly Interview with Donald Warnock by David B. Sheppard previously published in Guild of American Luthiers Quarterly 8 #2, 1980 Could you say something about when and how you happened to get into instrument building? How did you choose early instruments as opposed to making copies of Martin guitars? My interest in musical instruments came through a generalized association of the guitar with good times and nice sounds. It was the typical instrument when I was growing up. I was always charmed by the possibilities and the actuality of the guitar as a music making machine. As I grew up, I became interested in the fine arts and spent a lot of time studying and practicing as a painter. However, I found that I didn’t really want to pursue a career as a fine artist because I wasn’t much interested in promoting my work or producing a consistent body of work. What I like to do is stand in front of an easel and explore visual possibilities. That was getting me nowhere as far as establishing myself as a self-sustaining individual. I did other things for awhile, among which was restoration of prints, drawings and paintings. I was fascinated with ancient methods and the incredible results that were possible when a tradition which was extremely practical in the decorative and the visual dine arts was handed down from master to apprentice. The ease with which materials could be manipulated in an artistic way always intrigued me. This kind of exploration, although I didn’t pursue it fully in painting, has turned out to be very useful in certain aspects of instrument making such as varnishing, carving or the designing of decorative elements. 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.
