Posted on June 30, 2024September 17, 2024 by Dale Phillips The Great White Sitka The Great White Sitka by Jeffrey R. Elliott Originally published in American Lutherie #32, 1992 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume Three, 2004 In February 1992 friend and fellow luthier John Sullivan and I drove from Portland, Oregon to Elma, Washington to pay a hands-on visit to Steve McMinn’s Pacific Rim Tonewoods, Inc. (The business has since relocated in Bellingham, Washington.) We went for the experience. Steve suggested we bring some rugged clothing and a camera. We discovered why when we arrived to the incredible sight of a gigantic Sitka log 26' long by 11' across at the larger end. A great white whale came to mind. The photos tell the story. For the next couple days, my body reminded me I’d had a real workout. But it felt good because it reminded me of what a great time we had and how fortunate we were to have a hand in turning this huge spruce log into top wood. Steve’s whole operation is very well thought out, very organized, and a pleasant place to work. He’s obviously committed to producing high quality instrument woods and nothing is wasted. This experience also gave me an appreciation for how much work goes into producing one top and why “ideal” tops are so rare. ◆ 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. Members also receive 3 annual issues of American Lutherie and get discounts on products. For details, visit the membership page. MEMBERS: login for access or contact us to setup your account.
Posted on August 1, 2022March 5, 2024 by Dale Phillips Potassium Dichromate, Oxalic Acid, and Carnauba Wax Potassium Dichromate, Oxalic Acid, and Carnauba Wax by Jeffrey R. Elliott Originally published in Guild of American Luthiers Data Sheet #52, and #55, 1977 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie, Volume One, 2000 Potassium dichromate. European luthiers commonly use potassium dichromate to give that nice, brown “aged” look to lighter, newer woods. It can be used by itself or mixed with aniline dyes for additional color tints. Primarily it has been used to darken the interiors of violin-family instruments, although I know of many who have used it on the exterior to darken spruce and maple. I have used it both inside and out to create a “naturally aged” looking wood on guitars. Potassium dichromate is a chemical activated by light from the sun, sunlamp, or infrared lamp, but direct, natural, full-spectrum sunlight is best. Beware: Indirect light will not activate it, and the solution will tend to color the wood a murky green. The solution is rather weak — two tablespoons to one gallon of water. It can be applied by brushing or by wiping it on with a cloth (wear gloves). Although I have never tried it, I imagine a spray method would work as well. Whichever method is used, a light, even coat is recommended. 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 May 6, 2021March 6, 2024 by Dale Phillips Accident Prevention: A Case History Accident Prevention: A Case History by Jeffrey R. Elliott Originally published in American Lutherie #14, 1988 Aa a luthier who has repaired several thousand guitars over the past 20 years, I have developed a growing obsession over guitar care and safety. Much of this is due to my realization that nearly half those repairs may not have been necessary had they been properly handled. Significantly, they were often not in their owner’s possession at the time of “the accident”. In such a case a few years ago, the culprits appeared to have been the baggage handlers of several airlines during a rigorous two month international tour. The owner took all the proper precautions before and after each flight, and the guitar was in an expensive custom case made especially to accommodate its shape and dimensions. So I was upset, but not surprised, when I learned of the first incident, as airline handling of instruments remains notoriously poor. However, upon learning of three more identical mishaps, I became increasingly concerned for the instrument. 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 November 14, 2019March 7, 2024 by Dale Phillips North American Softwoods North American Softwoods by Ted Davis, Bruce Harvie, Steve McMinn, Byron Will, and Dave Wilson, moderated by Joseph Johnson from their 1990 GAL Convention panel discussion Previously published in American Lutherie #31, 1992 and The Big Red Book of American Lutherie, Volume Three, 2004 Why don’t each of you tell us who you are, where you’re from, and a little bit of what you’ve done. Ted: My name is Ted Davis and I live in Tennessee near the Smokey Mountains. The Smokeys have red spruce in them and when I found out this wood was useful, I started pursuing it. In the last two years, after a ten-year search, I have managed to find and cut a small amount of red spruce. It was the wood that was used by Martin and Gibson around the turn of the century, up into the 1940s. Bruce: My name is Bruce Harvie and I have a company called Orcas Island Tonewoods in the San Juan Islands of Washington. I have spread myself very thin cutting all the Northwest species — western red cedar, Port Orford cedar, Sitka spruce, Engelmann spruce — and I’ve just returned from cutting some red spruce. Byron: I’m Byron Will and my interest is more from an instrument maker’s point of view. I started building harpsichords in 1975 when I moved to the Pacific Northwest from Wisconsin. I wasn’t very satisfied with the woods I had been using. After seeing these gorgeous Northwest trees I started wondering about their physical and acoustical properties and how useful they’d be in my work. I decided to try some of the local softwoods and learned quite a bit through the years. 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 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
