Posted on January 9, 2020March 7, 2024 by Dale Phillips

In Praise of the Plywood Bass

In Praise of the Plywood Bass

by Frederick C. Lyman, Jr.

Originally published in American Lutherie #4, 1985 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume One, 2000

see also,
Building a Plywood Bass by Richard Ennis

It has been said that in order to produce fine wines, one must have had generations of alcoholics in one’s family. Only then can one approach the problem with the necessary patience, devotion, and understanding that will result in superior, classic vintages. Mere cleverness or mere industry will not suffice; one has to be locked into the project by the merciless and irreversible forces of destiny.

Similarly, those who are involved in the production of bass sounds seem to require a kind of demonic motivation. They must be attuned, in a special way, to the pulsations of the subaudible register, the tone-feelings that seem to arise from the nether regions. From this unholy obsession with the depths of auditory sensibility comes a fundamental understanding which will forever elude the fiddlers and flautists.

What we mean is that bassists have a deep need to make those sounds, and they will find a way to do it. It’s not a question of what is practical or expedient or wise: Bassists are driven. They have a pathological fascination with deep sounds; they are not well without them.

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Posted on January 2, 2020March 7, 2024 by Dale Phillips

New Directions in Violin Making

New Directions in Violin Making

by Joseph Curtin

from his 2008 GAL Convention lecture

Originally published in American Lutherie #97, 2009

I started violin making as a frustrated player. My viola teacher’s husband was a viola maker, and at some point I just switched rooms. Otto Erdesz was his name, and he was a kind of crazy genius. I had a very informal education with him, which I realize now was good in some ways. He used to say, “If you take my advice, you do what you want.” The first instrument I made was a viola based on an asymmetrical model of his which had the upper bout cut away so you could reach higher positions. It seemed like a very good idea. He made about twenty of them, and then got frustrated at the resistance of musicians. Just the fact that it was different was a disadvantage.

I moved into traditional violin making, which means more or less making copies of instruments from the 17th and 18th centuries. Trying to do that well, trying to do that in a beautiful way and a faithful way and a way that sounds good, is an absolutely fascinating technical challenge. It’s very useful to have the limits provided by these traditions. But after twenty years I started to feel that making another Guarneri copy was a little boring. My mother is a painter and my father is a photographer, so I come from a visual arts background. In the visual arts, the general idea is to do something different each time. It would be embarrassing to do the same painting twice. With crafts, there’s an emphasis on repetition of forms. I think there can be a balance between those approaches in instrument making. And I think there is much more openness now to new design ideas among violin makers, and I’m sure among guitar makers too.

I’ll show the work of various makers, including myself. I don’t want to give the impression that this is a major movement. It’s small, but hopefully it will grow. It’s fun to spend some of your time following your imagination as much as the traditions.

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Posted on December 16, 2019March 7, 2024 by Dale Phillips

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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Posted on December 11, 2019March 7, 2024 by Dale Phillips

Meet the Maker: Carleen Hutchins

Meet the Maker: Carleen Hutchins

by Alan Carruth

previously published in American Lutherie #86, 2006

See also,
The New Violin Family by Alan Carruth
The Catgut Acoustical Society and the New Violin Family Association by Robert J. Spear

I first met Carleen Hutchins at the 1979 GAL Convention in Boston. I’d heard a lot about her from my teacher and friend Tom Knatt, who had been working with her for years, but she exceeded all of my expectations. The following winter I began joining Tom for the monthly drive down to Montclair, New Jersey for what Carleen called “technical violin making” sessions.

It’s hard to overestimate Carleen’s impact on the lutherie community. As one of the first women to gain a reputation as an instrument maker, she’s been an inspiration to a number of others who have been important in their own right. In helping to establish the Catgut Acoustical Society, she was one of the first people to initiate the sort of information sharing that the GAL carries on; a system that has contributed much to this “Golden Age” of lutherie. As a scientist, she was one of the pioneers in the study of musical instrument acoustics, and in editing the CAS Journal, she brought together, coordinated, and inspired the work of many others.

There always seems to be more to find out about Carleen, so when Tim suggested that I do an interview, I accepted the assignment gladly. Thus it was that I drove over to her new home in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire, in a snow storm, and sat down for an interesting chat.

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Posted on November 19, 2019March 7, 2024 by Dale Phillips

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.