Posted on April 28, 2026April 28, 2026 by Dale Phillips Cutting the Scroll Slot on an F-5 Mandolin Cutting the Scroll Slot on an F-5 Mandolin by Byron Spain Originally published in American Lutherie #116, 2013 Over the years I have attempted, with varying degrees of success, a number of processes to match the scroll slot cuts — the thin, curved, empty space that defines the mandolin’s scroll — in the top, heel block, and back. Many builders separately cut each piece to a pattern, but the pieces never quite align, and hours are expended sanding in tight confines to make them flush after they’re glued together. One day it dawned on me that it only made sense to cut all three components at once, as an assembly. One caution: if you make a mistake, you risk ruining all three parts. Here’s how I do it. Note: The instrument in the photos is left-handed. An 1/8˝ aircraft-grade birch plywood pattern, traced from the inside surface of a 1924 Gibson F-5 top plate, is used to transfer two index points to the plates: a small brad at the tail block and a larger hole for a dowel in the scroll button (Photo 1). This pattern also locates the f holes, tone bars, and dovetail mortise. Acrylic patterns are available from a number of suppliers, but they’re not as sturdy as plywood. 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 April 27, 2026April 27, 2026 by Dale Phillips Elliptical Legacy Elliptical Legacy by James Condino and John Monteleone Originally published in American Lutherie #109, 2012 Recently I had the good fortune to examine and draw the beautiful D’Aqusito mandolin in the collection of The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. While in the area, I visited several great guitar builders and got a chance to play dozens of fine D’Aquisto and D’Angelico instruments, most of them still in the trenches, gigging hard with the local fellows. John Monteleone did the restoration and finish work on the mandolin for the museum, and I stopped by John’s place for a bit of laughter and to pick a few tunes. The shop is an icon of 20th century guitar building. The walls are lined with photos of famous people and their instruments, along with little glimpses of the history of our craft. The original iconic photograph of a young Jimmy D’Aquisto standing next to an older John D’Angelico outside the Kenmore Street shop hangs on the wall. There are amazing instruments in various stages of construction and repair, and his old upright bass is instantly accessible right next to the main workbench in case a nice old jazz standard comes up on the radio and the moment strikes him. John’s wonderful stories connected the soul and craft of the mandolin and guitar from his shop on Long Island, through the traditions of some of the greatest luthiers of all time, all the way back to the origins in Italy. 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 February 23, 2026February 23, 2026 by Dale Phillips Meet the Maker: David Cohen Meet the Maker: David Cohen by Roger Alan Skipper Originally published in American Lutherie #99, 2009 DR. Dave Cohen, of Cohen Musical Instruments, crafts guitars, mandolins, mandolas, octaves, and mandocellos in Richmond, Virginia. During a sabbatical from the chemistry classroom, Dave seized the opportunity to study the mandolin’s vibrational properties with Dr. Thomas Rossing at Northern Illinois University. From this and other studies he has produced a number of lectures and publications to complement his instruments. Dave, your website mentions a “lifelong interest in science, woodworking, and stringed instruments.” What kinds of woodworking did you do prior to lutherie? My grandfather was a carpenter, and my dad was a civil engineer. Dad knew I’d value something I made more than something I bought, so as a kid, I was always making things with my dad, using my grandfather’s tools. Between the early ’70s and the mid-’90s, I built furniture, mostly casework, that was strongly influenced by James Krenov and Sam Maloof. They still influence my stringed-instrument design. Lutherie is woodworking. Lutherie, though, integrates my background in science and mathematics, and music. I love that part of it. If lutherie were simply reproducing the instruments of the past, I doubt that I would have made more than a few instruments. 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 February 19, 2026February 19, 2026 by Dale Phillips Measuring Archtop Musical Instruments Measuring Archtop Musical Instruments by Chris Burt Originally published in American Lutherie #83, 2005 See also, Arched Plate Carving, Part One by Chris Burt Arched Plate Carving, Part Two by Chris Burt Arched Plate Carving, Part Three by Chris Burt This is the first of three articles that take you from the basics of creating your own database of musical instrument measurements to applying what you have learned from those measured instruments while you carve top and back plates. In this article, you will learn to safely measure fine instruments. Article Two will describe plate carving, and article Three will describe plate graduating. This article is dedicated to Bob Lundberg, from whom I first learned the basics of measuring instruments. He showed us how to set the bar high. — Chris Burt Before you can build an archtop instrument based on an existing model, you need templates — at a minimum: a body-shape template, neck cross-section templates, and plate arching templates. You can’t carve something if you don’t understand it. If you are going to spend the considerable time that’s required to understand an instrument model, seek out the best. Measure several and keep detailed notes. If you take the time to compile a set of measuring tools and learn to use them respectfully and gently, you’ll be surprised to find how many people will allow you access to their fine instruments. 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 February 19, 2026February 19, 2026 by Dale Phillips Arched Plate Carving, Part One: Establishing the Outside Surface Arched Plate Carving, Part One: Establishing the Outside Surface by Chris Burt Originally published in American Lutherie #84, 2005 See also, Measuring Archtop Musical Instruments by Chris Burt Arched Plate Carving, Part Two by Chris Burt Arched Plate Carving, Part Three by Chris Burt This is the second of a series of articles that take you from the basics of creating your own database of instrument measurements to applying what you have learned from those measured instruments while you carve top and back plates. The first article of the series appeared in AL#83. In this article, you will learn how to carve top and back plates. The remainder of the series will describe plate graduating. A classical guitar maker I know recently told me he began his career making carved-plate guitars, but his finished top and back plates always looked like folk art. Our conversation got me thinking about his experience and the causes of unwitting folk art. I don’t know the process he followed and so can’t comment on it, but I do remember a fiddle player who asked me for advice as he built a fiddle. His finished fiddle looked like folk art, the main reason being that he didn’t have a process. At least, he didn’t quite believe, or understand, the process he read about or the clarifications I advised. I remember telling him, more than once, that he’d not yet finished one step and so shouldn’t start the next. Inevitably, the next time I’d see his work, he’d let impatience push him into abandoning the incomplete step in favor of the illusion of progress provided by beginning a new step. 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.