Meeting Notes

Arch-top guitar builder Steve Anderson entertained the Seattle Luthiers on January 9, 2007, for the second time in their history. The first, over seven years earlier, was a slide show at Cornish (see our account from October 1999 here).

That first encounter attracted an audience of perhaps three dozen. This latter may have been as well attended, but census was difficult: before, the public was seated in a lecture hall, but this time they were free to roam the luthier's shop, which spreads to occupy the basement and first floor of a house in Greenwood, and they were simply not all visible at once. In both cases, popularity was probably due at least in part to the reasonable conviction that this guy obviously knows what he's doing.

To note that the workspace is non-linear is not to say that it is not well-organized. Other hosts from time to time have admitted to determined tidying before meetings, but members familiar with the premises suggest that entropy is simply a stranger to Steve's shop. By his own account dust collection is a preoccupation, and indeed no machine is without a duct for sawdust. The filtered air is returned to the workspace to avoid wasting energy.

Numerous other devices, mothered by necessity but clearly well brought up by Steve, were also on view, including a vacuum-operated sanding station boasting a beauty-shop-chair heritage, the pump that carefully measures resin and hardener, the mold where tailpieces are cast, etc.

The large crowd naturally included numerous local lutherie luminaries. Michael Gurian announced the availability of a quantity of Pau Ferro for backs and sides (actually the announcement was followed by considerable discussion of what to call the stuff). Rob Girdis brought a lovely parlor guitar (in a beautifully-fitted case) but declined to perform (he was later spotted in the vestigal kitchen playing an unattended Anderson guitar).

Dusty Strings again played host to the monthly Seattle Luthiers meeting in November; and in fact this time Ray Moores was on hand himself to welcome an audience of about fifteen to the space adjacent to the showroom, recently remodeled and freshly dedicated to education. Several crisply finished rooms suggest that in the future a large number of strings may be safely set to vibrating at once, production now having its own comfortable building across town.

The floorshow featured snappy patter by Jay Hargreaves on the design and construction of electric and acoustic basses, and backing him up were four examples: through-neck and a bolt-on electrics from his early years, and a short-scale fretless and the fretted all-blue model we associate with Jay today.

Being both the Bass Guy and the Kasha Guy has given Jay an unusual perspective on his subject -- and has given his basses a unique look that in fact reflects their bracing. As often happens, we learned that the questions facing the luthier are not ones we might have anticipated, and the solutions may be stranger still -- like adding mass for its own sake, without regard to stiffness. But there are commonalities too we might not have guessed: Jay says that too much finish on either the acoustic or the electric bass can spoil the sound. In the end, the world of bassists is divided into two realms -- the bright, round-wound realm and the thumpy, flat-wound one -- and the builder's job is to coax one of those tones out of an instrument that sounds big yet can be held comfortably.

At one point Jay was reminded that he is also the Cookie Guy. He answered that just getting his exhibits to the hall had been task enough; and this fact was confirmed by those helping to move his cases and stands up the stairs and back into his car.

Though not witnessed by our plucky reporters, it is said that in October jet-setter Robert Lane hosted Swedish luthier Daniel Sengenbyreg, possibly at Hales Ales on Wednesday the 11th.

A recently-discovered e-mail invitation suggests that the September meeting was actually an Elliot Bay sailing adventure hosted by Dave and Sam Krause, on the 12th.

August passed without notice by our editor or any electronic record of a meeting. Those having a recollection of a get-together (probably dinner) are invited to submit an account.

True to his word, Clint Ferrell organized a fine little swap meet for the meeting on July 11. Clint has long expressed a wish to divest himself of some of his accumulated wood and this seemed like a reasonable chance. Indeed, there was probably less at the end than at the beginning, though it may take a lot of these events to make much of a dent.

Part of the problem was the size of the crowd. There were only about ten, and they were sometimes distracted by other issues. For one thing, there was a fair amount of automotive talk. Not only had Jay Gordon tooled up in his 'Vette (and not the one we'd seen before, but the new silver one) -- but his wasn't even the only one there. And the blue El Camino sitting in the driveway was itself for sale, presumably with or without the scrap pile in the back. Clint's new neighbors probably have the idea that luthiers are a pretty high-octane bunch. Dainty eaters, though -- the fine selection of foodstuffs didn't get the attention it deserved either.

Toward the end, Clint pulled some walnut out of the tip load on the truck bed, announcing that it wouldn't be that hard to work around its small defect and so he might as well make a harp out of it after all.

The June meeting, on Tuesday the 13th, was a potluck aboard the Gurian Instruments barge. The weather was pleasant but the invitation had included an alternate venue in case of rain and the complexity may have kept some away -- there were only about eight guests. Because of the size of the group there tended to be one large conversation instead of the usual scattering, and it lasted until about 9:30. And thanks to the time of year, daylight did also. In addition to the grill, the house provided some mighty tempting looking pasta and there was mention of dessert.

Fully half of those present were from the realm of instrument repair. This demographic does not seem to change much the topics of discussion -- just the depth of knowledge -- but one theme of the evening was "Things I'd heard about but didn't believe would really make a difference" and there was an example in the form of a large bottle of De-Glue Goo and several testimonials. Still, the classic instance of long-ignored advice seems to be about heating frets before pulling them.

There was plenty else to look at, including the first shipment of some beautiful Koa logs waiting to be cut, the numerous decorative bits waiting to become parts of big-name instruments (where else are you likely to see stacks of uke rosettes?) and the two big new laser cutters that will do much of the work.

And speaking of abundance, before departing Clint Ferrell offered to share his table at the G.A.L convention, and to host a swap-meet, probably in July.

The May 9 meeting was downstairs at the Dusty Strings store in Fremont, and drew about three dozen to hear influential luthier Charles Fox, now living near Portland.

Beyond giving us easier access, the move from Healdsburg has been important in other ways, allowing Fox the opportunity to change the way he makes guitars, now essentially building by himself, in a shop at his home, using more hand tools. But the change in scene has also been occasion for a change in design, and even in thinking about design.

The first structural topic was rigid sides. Fox started here as a way to eliminate one of the difficult-to-control variables in guitar performance. A solid ring leaves the top (and the back, unless it's made inflexible too) to get on with its intended work -- not to mention the purely structural gains, like a virtual end to neck re-sets. The example we saw was a cut-away body with an elegant two-piece lining, though there was also a discussion, prompted by Jay Hargreaves, of laminated sides.

Tops themselves received more attention, with a sample of a two-piece soundboard with sandwiched Nomex, representing not just high technology but an emerging lutherie philosophy. When we think about acoustics we think about a plate that's uniform across its dimensions; isn't that the way we'd like our real instruments to be? The problem is not just one of mechanical efficiency. Fox feels that the battle to produce a particular sound by fiddling with braces (the traditional preoccupation of luthiers) is one that he personally cannot win. Instead, how about building an instrument where design, rather than mystique, produces excellence? The "ergo" model we saw, on loanback from a famous player, made this seem pretty plausible.

A drastic reduction in the number of braces has had several observable implications, beginning immediately with the visual. When starting his experiments Fox assumed that a domed top might be necessary, which alters the relationship between top, neck and bridge. Beyond that, less bracing invites "sculptural" changes in the overall shape of the instrument, including tapers, twists and compound curves. The specimen we saw had several other nice features, including a player-friendly soundhole. Fox still offers a sliding cover as an option, although he says to buyers "You won't close it twice." Actually, we opened and closed it several times and it seemed to make a big difference to both performer (Rob Girdis was quickly nominated) and audience.

It wasn't all technical talk though. Fox's opening remarks were about the nearly unique spirit of cooperation to be found among instrument builders, echoing his recent letter in American Lutherie and the sentiments of many in attendance. One could say that it wasn't just the sound of the space-age top that filled the room that night (and thanks to D.S. regulars J. Saba and D. Haxton and to R. Moores who presumably knew that we were using his shop).

It was mix-and-match on the evening of April 11, as ten of us, from founding father to newest, gathered upstairs at the Sea Garden Restaurant.

The food itself (from mushrooms with bok choy to a yellow curry with slender noodles, though nary a walnut prawn in sight) garnered praise from new and old alike. Conversation likewise ranged from a report of Gary Wagner's purchase of a bowling-alley lane (for those interested in butcher-block) to the thicknessing of tops (and a disquisition by Eugene Clark); and an unprecedented discussion about firearms. One item that sparked interest was the idea that famed teacher and current Portland resident Charles Fox might appear at a meeting as early as next month.

A well-known Flamenco player brought a bright red Strat copy; a popular guitar-maker his first banjo. There was a formerly-electric Gibson with a variety of soundholes that had in some sense seen better days; but for the rest of us good, if somewhat vague, fortunes were said to await.

Pete seemed surprised that an audience composed largely of guitar builders would be interested in his frankly quite different instruments; but what fascinates makers is problem-solving, and the building of autoharps has provided fertile ground. The high pressure exerted by a large number of strings necessarily bridged at the very edges of a soundboard requires a balancing act. The search for space above for damping bars, which (who would have thought of this?) can bridge as well as dampen, leads to more compromises. The quest is evidentally paying off though: more thoughtfully designed instruments are finding acceptance in a wider range of music, from Bluegrass to Jazz, and that demand is creating a market for better autoharps.

Examples of innovation appear in all fields: materials (mylar where we might have envisioned only steel), design (precise, and patentable, fine tuners with only one moving part per string), construction (a system that allows changing dampers quickly and easily, perhaps even between numbers) and so on. The soundhole decoration/reinforcement is a cylinder with a little flange produced, as one of us finally guessed, using only graduated hole-saws (in the right order, as Pete points out). Some parts are cast on-site in plastic; some are custom-extruded elsewhere. Careful work and an artist on the small staff mean that these instruments are good-looking too, in either low-gloss or satin lacquer.

Questions exhausted, we headed for drinks and cookies. Near the D'Aigle Autoharps headquarters are the house Pete grew up in and the one next door that he built, where his father now lives. The one we saw was at once very personal and very comfortable.

The lutherie press was well represented at the meeting. It may be time for these instruments, resembling nothing so much as a cross between a zither and a clarinet, to come out of the closet in a meaningful way.

Last-minute notice and the distractions of St. Valentine's Day kept attendance at the January regular dinner meeting at the Sea Garden to around a dozen. Not among them was our webmaster, who would have touted a recent change in our online Bulletin Board, now a web-based forum.

Our January meeting took the practical step of appearing on a Saturday afternoon, that of the 28th, to accommodate members beyond the usual evening crowd. David Haxton and John Saba offered a workshop on guitar setup (or "How Low Can You Go?") at the Dusty Strings store in Fremont.

Our December meeting, the evening of Tuesday the 13th, was a potluck at the Gurian shop, attended by only a dozen, which meant that even some of the regulars were missing. At that, there was still room not just for first-timers, but for some instruments that don't always get a lot of play at our gatherings.

By the same token, some people sang who usually don't, and for good reason; still, a good time was had, promoted by good food and holiday spirit.