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Letter: Remembering Robert Bouchet

Letter: Remembering Robert Bouchet

by Philippe Refig

Originally published in American Lutherie #71, 2002



Dear Sirs,

Coming back to Europe in 1973 from America where I had been working for some years, I had the nasty surprise of opening my guitar case in Paris, to find my Contreras flamenco guitar broken. One of the components of the heel had become unstuck. Cracks were wide open on the ribs on each side of the neck.

In those times I used to keep my guitar with me in the cabin without having to pay for an extra seat. But that day they took my guitar just before boarding and put in the hold. I thought I was prepared for all eventualities: I had made a rain cover for the case and put polyurethane under it. I had pieces of foam in strategic places inside the case to keep the guitar steady. Well, apparently that was not enough. I was pretty sad when I saw the damage.

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Letter: Remembering Robert Lundberg

Letter: Remembering Robert Lundberg

by Clive Titmuss

Originally published in American Lutherie #71, 2002



Dear Jonathon:

I has been several weeks since Historical Lute Construction by Robert Lundberg arrived. I wanted to really absorb it before showering you with well-deserved praise for your great work of lutherie documentation. I have read the whole book several times. It’s a great work.

Bob built my two lutes during his early period, while I was a student in Basel, a time which also saw the beginnings of my attempts at lutherie. I once played my Bach suite program with Susan at Reed College in Portland, partly arranged by Bob’s first wife Ellen. One of the works I played that day was my own Tombeau for Glenn Gould, a piece for lute and harpsichord. Bob liked that, I remember. We had borrowed a Flemish double by Byron Will for Susan to play, and he and Byron seemed to get a real charge out of a couple of very determined musicians trying to play in a cafeteria full of hungry students on a Sunday evening, with the smell of frying fish heavy in the air. The 300 or so students were perfectly behaved, as they listened to a French Suite, Prelude Fugue and Allegro, the Chromatic Fantasy, and works by Weiss and Hagen, played on some of the best early instruments made by American crafters. But they seemed not to notice, as if this were normal, or perhaps such a smoothly executed event that it was no more to them than a violin and piano recital. Bob was happy to hear his own lute played in such demanding circumstances. My last memory of Bob is of his kindness, his gentleness, and his understanding of my struggle with the hardest music anyone could ever write for a lute.

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Letter: Remembering José Rubio

Letter: Remembering José Rubio

by Keith Watson

Previously published in American Lutherie #79, 2004



Dear Sir or Madam,

AL#65 was recently passed on to me by Jack Spira of Melbourne, a builder of guitars and related instruments. For several years I had been attempting to find the whereabouts of David Spinks (aka José Rubio) in order to renew a friendship that we had in London in the mid-’50s. I had come to London from the north to study flamenco and wood carving and had started my classical guitar tuition in with Alexis Chesnicov. I then went to Paco Juanos who gave lessons in Hampstead at a coffee house called El Serrano. It was there I met David.

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Review: Julian Bream: A Life on the Road by Tony Palmer

Review: Julian Bream: A Life on the Road by Tony Palmer

Reviewed by Gila Eban

Originally published in American Lutherie #5, 1986 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume One, 2000



Julian Bream: A Life on the Road
Tony Palmer
McDonald & Co., 1982
Out of print (1999)

Most of the material for this book was gathered while its author, along with photographer Daniel Meadows, traveled with Julian Bream on one of his tours. Although there is no chronological “plot,” the book is packed with “action”: Being stuck after a concert, in an unfamiliar “sleazy part of town” in Italy, or in an unpredictable snowstorm on America’s East Coast; guitars cracking after passage through the Alps; choosing to play a concert in a remote part of India, only to find out that the local inhabitants are accustomed to concerts of Indian music, which last twice as long as the standard classical music concert in the West! In order to prevent a riot, Bream has to play every piece he can possibly remember. In South America or at a quiet chapel in the English countryside, there is always an element of the unexpected, provided by an angry dictator’s wife or a nearby artillery firing-range.

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Review: The New Yorker Special by Frederick Cohen

Review: The New Yorker Special by Frederick Cohen

Reviewed by Tim Olsen

Originally published in American Lutherie #9, 1987 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume One, 2000



The New Yorker Special
Frederick Cohen
Available from Filmakers Library, Inc

This charming little film is a valentine to a guy who deserves one: Jimmy D’Aquisto. Jimmy was my childhood hero, and visiting him in his shop in 1977 only built my admiration and affection for a man that to me is a genuine paradigm for luthiers.

This film is far above the average coverage that luthiers generally get from journalists. You know the type: They breeze in, ask a few irrelevant questions, then write a piece that makes you seem like something between a wacko and a wizard. Frederick Cohen obviously knows something about guitars, as well as being a fine filmmaker. He has succeeded in producing a film which is perfectly suitable and entertaining for the uninitiated, yet one in which the luthier will find many informative gems half-buried.

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