Posted on

Meet the Maker: John Koster

Meet the Maker: John Koster

by Nicholas Von Robison

Originally published in American Lutherie #34 1994 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume Four, 2006



Dateline Vermillion, South Dakota. It happened at the GAL’s 13th national convention. Quick as an adder, the long, thin arm of American Lutherie editor Tim Olsen snaked into the crowd and tore me kicking and screaming from the group of luthiers. “Go interview” was the command, and “Who would you like to do?” the question. Without hesitation I named John Koster, the conservator of the Shrine to Music Museum (Editor’s note: now the National Music Museum). I had never met John but I knew that he was also a devoteé of taking tiny splinters of wood and putting them under a microscope in order to precisely determine the identity of a wood. I soon found that wood anatomy is only one of the myriad and assorted areas of knowledge that John calls upon in his work. He was enjoying a day off, but graciously consented to this interview and a tour of his workshop. The time I spent with John one of the high points of my convention experience.

John, please tell us a little bit about your early beginnings, your background and education, and the path that led you to the Shrine to Music Museum.

I’m a fairly recent arrival here at the Shrine to Music Museum. I came here in September of 1991 so I’ve only been here eight or nine months. Previous to this I was a harpsichord maker for about twenty years, back in Massachusetts. Before that, my background had been more musical than instrument making. I went to St. Thomas Choir school in New York City, the only church-affiliated, boarding choir school in the country, very much on the English model. I was into classical music and played the piano, but really wanted to play the harpsichord. In prep-school years, during the summer, my father and I put together one of the original Zuckerman clavichord kits — a plywood box with some strings on it and a piano keyboard. A couple of years later when I was fifteen we put together a harpsichord, another Zuckerman kit, one of the original nonbent-sided ones. It was a cigar-box-violin kind of thing, but it got me started and I had something to play on.

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

Ed Arnold: String-Tie Kind of Guy

Ed Arnold: String-Tie Kind of Guy

by Nicholas Von Robison

Originally published in American Lutherie #7, 1986 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie, Volume One, 2000



Ed Arnold is a crew-cut and string-tie kind of guy. I met him while crewing aboard his son-in-law’s thirty-two foot sloop Iolaire on definitely not a crew- cut and string-tie kind of day. As a storm scudded down on us and I ejected my lunch off to leeward, I watched Ed go forward with the lithe grace of an athlete to hank on the storm jib on that bucking bronco of a foredeck.

Ed turned sixty-seven in June. He’s the kind of guy you can picture being at home on a rugged wilderness trail or negotiating a mountain pass on a donkey, and making it look easy. In his sixteen years as an exotic wood importer I’m sure he has ridden a few donkeys and walked a few dusty miles. A one-man operation, he went into Mexico and Central America, selected his trees, oversaw their handling and production, then shipped them home by container. He knows wood in a way that few luthiers ever will, our work beginning with the end result of Ed’s labors. I obtained some answers to things I have pondered over from time to time and even some I haven’t. Anybody know the Mexican name for mahogany? Zopilozontecomacuahitl.

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

Blood, Sweat & Sap

Blood, Sweat & Sap

by Nicholas Von Robison

Originally published as Guild of American Luthiers Quarterly Volume 10, #2, 1982



Sometime last spring I dreamed I was back in the Northwest for a short vacation. I had gone there to enjoy the trees - and was stunned to learn there weren’t any! All the forests had been paved over for condos, trailer parks, ski lodges, and fast food joints.

I don’t know just what triggered such a nightmare. I have learned in recent years that beer and pizza don’t go down as easily after midnight as they used to. More likely it was something I had read. I often read things (and more often write things) that are equally indigestible. But never after midnight.

No, it was probably the conversation with a luthier friend of mine, a splinter group agnostic who confessed to me that he really doesn’t believe that trees have a life of their own, that they speak to you in voices loud and soft, or that they should be approached as shrines. He tossed off Torres, Stradivari, Orville, C.F.; had only started his preachings on epoxy, graphite, fiberglass and polymers before I straight-armed him with a braced soundboard and tapped out a few tones. He recoiled of course, but on his way out the door parleyed that he could never accept the divinity of the old masters although they were great teachers. I’ll never attend woodshop vespers with that fellow again!

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

The Case for Using Natural Dyes

The Case for Using Natural Dyes

by Nicholas Von Robison

Originally published in Guild of American Luthiers Quarterly Volume 11, #1, 1983 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie, Volume One, 2000



Luthiers do not need to color their raw materials as much as other woodworkers. We use fine woods that can stand on their own merit without any help from the dye pot. But now and then we do find a need for dyes: for example, for rosettes, bindings, taking grey streaks from ebony, enhancing the color cast of wood, and tinting finishes.

In 1856 young William Henry Perkin was trying to synthesize quinine but instead wound up with a black tarry mess. This was mauveine, the first of the coal-tar derived dyes. By 1900 the aniline dyes (coal-tar derived) had virtually replaced all other dye materials. Up to this point, dyeing was done with naturally occurring materials and was more of an art than a science. With aniline dyes results were predictable, repeatable, stable, nonfading, and a heck of a lot simpler. There was bound to be a reaction, of course. The art of natural dyeing is returning to the amateur weavers and textile artists; I doubt if woodworkers will be far behind.

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

Seedlac

Seedlac

by Nicholas Von Robison

Originally published in Guild of American Luthiers Data Sheet #150, 1980 and Big Red Book of American Lutherie Volume One, 2000



Seedlac resin, when combined with alcohol, gives a magnificent spirit varnish suitable for spraying or French polishing with qualities far superior to its better known cousin shellac. It’s more transparent, faster drying, harder, and more resistant to scuffing and moisture. The latter quality is of particular value as sweaty hands can play havoc on a shellac-based finish on a musical instrument. With all this going for it, it is not well known or used by luthiers to a great extent. The primary reason is that the major paint and varnish manufacturers buy most of the crop for their own needs, leaving little for the small-scale importers.

About 60% of the resin is collected from an area between Calcutta and Central India with lesser amounts coming from Myanmar, Thailand, and Laos. There is a distinct difference in the resin color from different areas. The lac west of Calcutta is yellow or orange, east and south of Calcutta it is red, a pale red in Assam, and a dark red in Thailand. The resin comes from various indigenous trees, primarily kusam (Scheichera trijuga) which has the best color (pale yellow) and quality, but others such as pala (Wrightia tomentosa), ber (Berrya amomilla), and ghont (Bursera serrata). Two crops occur each year, summer and winter, and they revolve around the life cycle of a scale-like insect (Laccifer lacca) which infests the host trees. This small (about the size of an apple seed) red critter was cultivated as early as 80 A.D. for the purplish dye it contains. But not until 1580, in the records of Akbar the Great, do we find any mention of seedlac resin for varnish making.

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.