Chambure Vihuela Revisited

My Original Model, No. 575, 2001

Throughout my career I built the occasional vihuela at the request of friends or clients. As there were no suitable surviving instruments to model the vihuelas I built were based on iconography. Although I achieved some nice results, I felt  they strayed a little too far from historical plausibility.

The emergence of an historical vihuela from the storage vaults of the old Paris conservatory in the late 1990s offered an exciting and fascinating new model. The vihuela, now number E. 0748 at the Musee de la musique, is rightfully known as the Chambure vihuela after Mme de Chambure, the instrument's former owner.

I was fortunate to have an appointment at the museum when the vihuela was being restored. It lay open, the soundboard removed, on an examination table. I was able to see - admire actually - all the construction features, inside and out. I was struck by a sort of duality of the features. They were both complicated and simple; functional and elegant; rough and polished. This was a remarkable instrument and I was  deeply affected by it. I spent the next two years building models, making presentations and  writing an article about it.

Although I eventually stopped building vihuelas I kept two examples of my work from this time for my own collection. One is my original prototype , very simple, built with common but good quality wood, like the original 16th century instrument. The second is a version inspired by the face plate of Luis de Milano's El Maestro.

No. 580, 2002

Recently I had a serious offer and I decided to part with my El Maestro. The vihuela is 13 years old. I had varnished it originally with a rubbed varnish mixture of spar varnish/linseed oil/solvent. This had protected the wood but the finish had dulled over the years and the instrument  had received some dings. I decided to clean up the surface blemishes and to refinish it with French polish. Working on a vihuela again brought back the same sense of admiration and awe that I had experienced during the earlier time. I got into my filing cabinet and retrieved the 35mm photos that I took of the construction of my first Chambure vihuela. I want to share them with you.

The most striking feature of the instrument was its simplicity. I thought the proper way to express this attribute was by simplifying the construction process. That meant building without a mould and as few mechanical aids as possible.

I made the soundboard thinning it to the same thickness as the original in Paris, cut the sound hole, made the tail block and carved and shaped the one piece neck. These parts were all laid out in a straight line on a cutting mat. The tail block was tack glued in place as was the neck.

The one-piece neck is essential to building without a mould.  The handle of the neck and the interior block are carved from one piece of wood. The back is  glued to the foot -- its upside down in the photo. The soundboard  rides onto the neck and is glued to its surface . And the side ribs are let into slots cut into the sides of the heel.
The Paris vihuela is the earliest surviving example of what has become known as the Spanish Neck construction. If the procedure is done correctly the tension in the instrument is focussed at this point, relieving stress from the rest of the instrument and allowing every part to function  in unity. All positive tonal characteristics are amplified as a result.

The soundboard was made slightly over-size  so when I traced the outline of the vihuela body a little margin was left. I bent the side ribs and firmly glued them to the tail block and into the slots in the neck's heel. But I only tack-glued them to the soundboard.

I levelled the side ribs and took a deep breath before starting the daunting task of assembling the deeply fluted back.

The back is constructed with five identical fluted ribs and two side wings that are mirror images. All of the ribs are arched length-wise as well as fluted.

Shaping the flute is really no different than steam bending a neck veneer for a lute. So using the same principle I made a negative form from ash wood of the vihuela's central rib because that rib is the longest. I chose ash for the form because I knew it would remain stable when subjected to prolonged heating.  I thought pre-heating the form would make it easier to mould the rib material and the residual heat in the form would allow the rib to dry slowly and more uniformly resulting in a more stable flute. I warmed the form in my kitchen oven for two hours at 250 degrees F ensuring that it was heated throughout. Once the form was ready I steamed a prepared back rib over the spout of a tea kittle and wearing heavy deer skin gloves I moulded the rib stock over the form and secured it with elastic banding. It was then set it aside to cool and dry over-night.

The form was made exactly to the proper width of a finished rib so I could trim the slight over-hang of the prepared stock flush to the form and have a back rib ready to glue in place. I could also use the ash form to help contour the notches in the ribs that support the ends of the fluted ribs.

Assembling the back was like building a lute bowl. Starting with the centre rib each succeeding rib was laid up against its neighbor. It was remarkable how easily each rib snuggled precisely into place.

The two wing ribs were prepared in the same manner using an appropriately shaped ash wood form.

Once the back was assembled I removed the soundboard which came off easily because it was only tack-glued in place. I papered over the glue joints and positioned the 4 pillars that support the ends of the two harmonic bars. Interestingly, this feature became and remains the standard in the construction of Spanish guitars to this day. The pillars are about twice as wide at the point where they contact an harmonic bar as they need to be. This extra width allows some "play" in fitting the soundboard, ensuring that each bar is properly supported.

The body was now complete and I had finished what I had thought would be a difficult process. The work had gone smoothly but the credit for that belongs to the ingenuity of the anonymous vihuela maker who designed and built this intuitive and remarkable instrument.

There is more to be described about my two vihuela models but this post has gotten long enough. I'll cover those items in a future post.

Johann Georg Stauffer Guitar Drawing

I have made a drawing of the guitar by Johann Georg Stauffer 1829, No. 480, University of Edinburgh, UEDIN 3838 and I am publishing the PDF as a free download. The file size is 224KB and the printed drawing measures 105 cm x 61 cm.  This is a working drawing and includes only the guitar's major construction features. Details of the guitar are presented with photos and explanation in my post of October 5, 2014.

Click on the link to view and download the PDF :  Stauffer Guitar PDF


                                                                      *****

Building a Chitarriglia after Sellas - Part 1 The Design

 I received a commission for a small baroque guitar some time ago and now I am well along in its construction. The commission was clear in its requirements. The guitar was to have an arched back, a string length of around 54 cm, to be tuned in g' at A 440 with nylon treble strings.

Although there are no surviving historical instruments that meet this description, there is much evidence to suggest that many sizes of guitars were built to satisfy a large demand.
Many collections of music were published for guitar quartets, trios and duos during the 17th century  including directions for tuning  different size instruments. The term chitarra refers to a larger guitar for which there are several surviving examples. Instruments by Stradivari and Matteo Sellas come to mind. The term chitarriglia refers to smaller guitars.   Curiously only two survive, a pair sharing similar features by Giovanni Smit. One of the two is well known from published photos and measures. Its construction is very much in the Italian tradition with multi-piece side ribs and arched back. I drew a plan for an enlarged version of this guitar but on reflection I didn't think  enlarging a design by 50% was acoustically valid.

While figuring out the percentages of an enlarged Smit I got the idea to do the same with several guitars built by members of the Sellas family. Many of their guitars survive and I think it is reasonable to believe that they built small ones too. They just didn't survive. I considered four guitars for which I either had plans or published measurements and photographs: two by Matteo and one each by Giorgio and Giovanni/Michael. I derived percentages of the body length relative to four major measurements: the upper bout, waist, lower bout and rose position. For example, the body length of the Matteo Sellas, EUCHMI No. 279 is 478mm. The waist is 188mm wide. Therefore the waist is 39% of the guitar's body length. I also calculated the widths; upper bout, waist and lower bout relative to each other as a percentage. For an example, the upper bout of the afore-mentioned guitar (206mm) is 81.7% as wide as its lower bout (252mm) and the waist is 91.3% as wide as its upper bout. This second procedure may seem redundant but it brought into focus the  similarities and differences among the four guitars.

The length of the bodies of the guitars I chose for analysis were 445mm , 460mm, 465mm and 478mm. I found that the per cent difference of the comparisons of width to length were all within 4%. The comparisons as a per cent between the widths, e.g. upper bout to waist , also were within 4%. The rose position of all the guitars were between 65 and 67 per cent of the guitar length.

I did not intend for this post to become a statistical account in part because my sample is so small. But several trends were noticeable and these became the basis of my design.  First, the lower bouts of all four guitars were either 57% or 53% of the body length.  Second, the widths of the waists were either 70% of the lower bout width or 74%. Third, the width of the upper bout was always between 80 and 82% of the width of the lower bout. These findings suggest two designs; a wider one whose waist and lower bout are 4% wider than those of the narrow design. As noted there is little variation in the width of the upper bouts of the four guitars.

Under construction with false front.

I thought these findings were interesting and I regret that I did not have a larger sample. Perhaps someone will do a broader analysis of Sellas guitars because enough of them survive for a more conclusive analysis.

After I finished the calculations I felt that I could produce a  chitarriglia design that a Sellas might have made. But I still needed to determine the length of the body. I did not analyze the relationship between body length and string length of the four guitars because bridges on surviving instruments are often moved or are replacements. So I had to determine the length of the guitar body by trial and error. However, using the proportions of 3 to 2 will provide an useful estimate. The string length is three parts and the body two parts - more or less.  I like to position the bridge at 21 - 22% of the body length and I like the 11th fret to fall on or very close to the neck joint. Given my client's wish for a 54 cm string length I massaged the numbers and came up with a 372mm body length, a 545 mm string length with the bridge positioned 80 mm from the rear and the 11th fret on the neck joint.

I chose a narrow design that closely matches the proportions of the guitar by Matteo Sellas. Its upper bout is 43% (206mm) of its body length (478mm) therefore my upper bout is 160mm (372 x 43%). Continuing, I determined the lower bout of my guitar to be 201mm (372 x 54%). The waist is 38% of 372mm (142mm).

Under construction, the peg head needs attention.

Although I now had the dimensions of the guitar's body I needed to draw the contour. I wanted the shoulders of the upper bout to fall a little toward the waist rather than remain high. And I wanted the long section from the waist to the lower bout to draw inward slightly. I drew this free-hand but what I had in mind is similar to:

Matteo Sellas MIM No. 550


Three design features remain: the rose position is 67% of the body length and the maximum depth of the body is 93mm or 25% of the body length. The radius of the cross-sectional arch is 190mm. This radius is within the range of what I have observed on historical baroque guitars and it is a degree of curvature that I think works well both acoustically and aesthetically.



Next time I'll describe building the guitar.

Happy New Year!

Giovanni Fabricatore 1805 - Appointment in Edinburgh Part 2

The guitars of the Fabricatore family represent a style of construction and appearance that is distinct; different in construction and appearance from those made in France, Spain or Austria in the period 1800 - 1840. I always seem to cross paths with one of them whenever I have a museum appointment and I've collected plans from private owners and museums but I had never examined one in detail.  The Edinburgh University Collection of Historical Musical Instruments has two Fabricatore guitars; Giovanni ( built 1805, No.290) and Gennaro (1822, No. 770). I was intrigued by the early build date of Giovanni's guitar so I chose to pair it with Johann Staufer's No. 3838 (see my post from Oct. 5) for my September visit to the museum.

 This guitar was built in the era just before luthiers began to increase the width of the upper and lower bouts. It retains the elongated appearance of mid-eighteenth century guitars but with a more indented waist. 

The flourishes in the lower bout are modest in comparison with other guitars by members of the Fabricatore family. They are sawn from a hard brown wood that was painted black as can be seen in areas where the paint has worn off the rounded edges of the design. They are about 1.5mm high and are glued to the surface of the soundboard. The  monogram (SIF?) is inlaid black mastic.

The edge decoration consists of an inter-locking motif  cut from mother of pearl set in a reddish brown mastic, bordered on each side by ivory and ebony lines. The total width is approximately 9mm. The motif is repeated on the bridge block as well as around the sound hole.

It continues along the edges of the fingerboard and...

wraps around the peghead. Very stylish!


The fingerboard has a radius that is made visible in the photo by the curvature of the nut and first fret. I think this is unusual because I can not recall another Fabricatore that does, nor could I find another while doing background research for this post. Giovanni adds a nice touch by continuing the curvature on to the peg head.  The same effect is produced from the twelfth fret to the sound hole where the fingerboard has nearly flattened out (previous photos).

The peghead is veneered front and back with ebony. Ivory lines fan out across the its surface which is a nice touch. The peg head is attached to the neck with a short but full width V-joint that appears asymmetrical. It has been poorly repaired at some earlier date. The ivory lines multiply on the neck and continue onto the heel.

From this perspective it is possible to appreciate the full effect of Giovanni's treatment of the edge banding, neck veneer and curly maple. The side ribs are curly maple with a worn reddish patina. The wide edge banding, seen at the bottom in this photo totals nearly 9mm. Although it is barely visible in this view the top most single band is ivory. It continues on to the edge of the fingerboard. The 'barber pole' banding around the back is particularly striking. There are nearly 400 individual pieces of black material (?) and ivory set diagonally.

The back is a single piece of maple with a pronounced curl. The back is arched side to side by 4mm across the upper and lower bouts and by 2mm across the waist. The side ribs are tapered so that the depth of the guitar body at the tail is 84mm, at the waist 70mm and 67mm at the neck joint. The finish also appears more homogenous.

In this photo of the tail of the guitar we can see that the finish was applied in several stages; first an undercoat of yellow topped by a final thin layer of red. The yellow undercoat emphasizes the undulating structure of curly maple and when overlaid with certain reds and browns adds depth to the finish. As long as the color of the top coat is transparent enough the wood grain will show through handsomely.

String Length:   627mm
Nut - 12th Fret: 312mm
Body Length:    455mm
Upper Bout:      212mm
Waist:              158mm
Lower Bout:     273mm

Body Depth
At Neck Joint:    67mm
Waist:               70mm
Tail:                 84mm

Open Sound Hole
Diameter:         77mm

Peghead Angle: 20 degrees

All photographs by the author.

Many thanks to Darryl Martin, Principal Curator, Edinburgh University Collection of Historical Musical Instruments, who graciously arranged my visit.

And also to doctoral student and Conservation Assistant, Jonathan Santa Maria Bouquet, who kindly assisted my visit. 

Eleven Course Lute after Magno Tieffenbrucker

I finished an eleven course lute using the bowl from Magno Tieffenbrucker's archlute C45 that is conserved in the KHM, Vienna. It is one of my favorite models and I have built it with various string dispositions; as an archlute, like the original, as a larger eight course and as a ten. This lute is strung in the old G tuning with an extended bass. The owner also intends to restring it for D minor. The string length is 646mm.

I built the mould for the lute around 1985 from plans drawn by Gerhard Söhne. It has given good service. I prefer working with solid moulds like this for lutes with many narrow ribs and open moulds for wider and fewer ribs. I have thirty odd lute moulds and they are split fairly evenly between the two types. My two posts from May 8 and 17, 2012 describe building a open mould.  This mould was assembled from blocks of basswood cut to specific cross-sectional profiles as denoted on the published plans, glued together (you can see the glue lines) and then sculpted to the finished shape.

The original archlute has a triple rose. When I build the archlute model I incorporate that design, but as a lute with fewer courses I use a single rose, positioned in the same location as the triple rose.

The design is a abbreviated version of a rose that appears on many renaissance lutes. My source is from the swan neck thirteen course by Joachim Tielke 1678, Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich, Mu 10.

The bridge is constructed of plum with an ebony cap. I positioned it the same distance from the rear of the belly as it is on the original archlute. I think that maintaining Magno's original geometry for these features is as important as the shape of the bowl for preserving his tonal vision.

The original bowl is constructed with 31 ribs of yew with dark spacers. I used Indian rosewood with holly spacers.

The neck is constructed with a poplar core veneered with strips of black ebony that taper in width from the neck joint to the peg box separated by holly lines. I do not taper the strips individually. I carefully plane an ebony block to the required taper and cut each piece from its edge.

The finished pieces can then be lined up to check for discrepancies.

The length of an eleven course pegbox can be intimidating so I was careful in determining its proportions. The core is pear with an ebony back plate.

The cheeks are veneered with rosewood and holly. The chantrelle bracket is carved from a small block of ebony.

The ninth fret is tied on the neck but it sits very close to the neck joint which makes it very difficult to tie tightly. I like  to insert a tiny peg into the center rib to hold the fret securely in position.

I usually apply an oil finish to mult-rib rosewood bowls. But this time I decided to shellac it using a French polish technique.

 Solvents in the finish will often cause rosewood color to bleed onto lighter woods so I painted the holly spacers with several coats of shellac to seal them using a tiny brush. Then I filled the open grain of the rosewood with commercial wood filler. Once the filler was dry I scraped and sanded the ribs smooth.

 There are many descriptions of french polishing on the internet and if you are interested in trying the technique read a few explanations and watch the videos. Here I'll cover the major points of my technique but I think it is best if you develop your own through practice and patience. In essence, it is a simple procedure.

1. A 2 lb. cut of white shellac flakes dissolved in denatured alcohol.
2. 'Fads' or applicators made from good quality white cotton stuffed with cotton balls and secured with white cotton string.
3. The smaller fad is about the same size as the width of this lute's ribs and is used to apply the polish to one rib at a time. I use a circular motion that is the size of an American Quarter.
4. Ridges from the circular motion build up with repeated applications of polish. These must be removed using the larger fad with a 1 lb. cut of polished. Use a straight light sweeping motion over each rib. A little over-lapping is OK.
5. Always allow the polish to dry for several hours before resuming work with a different fad.
6. 'Spirit off' using the larger fad and a polish that is increasingly more dilute until a flawless mirror finish is achieved.
7. Or, if the spiriting off proves troublesome allow the finish to dry for a week and polish with rottenstone lubricated with mineral oil until you are satisfied.

Decorative tip of the End Clasp

I decided that spiriting off would be too tricky on these narrow ribs. I reduced the amount of shellac to a little less than a 1 lb. cut and made several passes. I allowed this to dry for several days.  Then I rubbed the finish with rottenstone and mineral oil using a soft paper shop towel and Q-Tips for the difficult areas.






Future posts will describe the 1805 Giovanni Fabricatore in the Edinburgh University Collection of Historical Musical Instruments that I examined last month.

 

And a multi-post description of my construction of a Panormo guitar from a 1834 model.

All photo by the author.

Appointment in Edinburgh with Fabricatore and Staufer - Part 1 Staufer

   

Last Monday I visited Edinburgh University for an appointment to continue my study of nineteenth century guitars. At left is a Giovanni Fabricatore built in 1805, EUCHMI No. 290 and below is a Johann Georg Staufer built in 1829, EUCHMI No. 3838. I plan to devote a separate post to each instrument. I'll start with the J.G. Staufer.

.

Earlier in the history of the Staufer family the surname was spelled with one "f"as it still was when this guitar was built. "Staufer' is faintly visible just above the build number 480.

The Staufer is in nearly original condition including the nickel bar frets. For guitars that remain in playable condition these have usually been replaced with T-frets by modern players so it was special to see them. The fingerboard is not ebony or other hard exotic wood but a domestic  maple that was stained black. Here you can see that the stain has worn off through use in the first playing position. Note also that the string nut has been set up so that the first string lies further from the edge of the fingerboard than the sixth string -- a setup favored by many performers.

The replacement bridge is the one unhistorical feature. There is a pencilled note with the date 1963 on one of the back bars. Presumably this was when the current bridge was mounted. Probably at this time the thin plywood bridge plate that is found under the bridge was added  This  bridge is an example of a lack of understanding of the dynamics of Staufer's guitar design, as I will explain. The bridge block without the saddle is 12 millimeters high and the saddle adds another 6 mm.

This is about the same height that the fingerboard of the adjustable neck sits above the soundboard (17 mm). This is not what Staufer had in mind. He built his guitars with low bridges fitted with a bar saddle, rising  to only 6 or 7 mm above the soundboard. There is an acoustical advantage in having the strings lie this close to the soundboard. The disadvantage, if this were a conventional guitar, is that the players' fingers are cramped for space. The raised  neck of the Staufer design alleviates this problem and the neck's adjustability allows for further adjustment. For whatever reason someone chose to install a bridge that allowed the strings to lie parallel to the soundboard. Unfortunately but predictably, the increased torque generated by the high bridge caused the soundboard to collapse, threatening the guitar's integrity.

The soundboard has four harmonic bars, two above the rose, one to the bridge side of the sound hole and the fourth behind the bridge. I was able to measure the two bars nearest the sound hole, but access to the interior of the guitar was limited so I could only estimate the dimensions of the two distant bars. The bar directly to the neck side of the sound hole measures 22 mm high and approximately 7 mm thick. The bar nearest the front block appeared to be slightly smaller. The bar to the bridge side of the sound hole measures 17 mm high and approximately 8 mm thick. The fourth harmonic bar, the bar behind the bridge is much smaller; perhaps only 12 mm high tapering to 9 or 10 mmm before the beginning of a long scallop and then fitting into the lining at a height of only 2 or 3 mm.

These bars are shaped in the same style as the back bars with one exception that I'll explain later. As an example this photo shows the back bar at the guitar's waist. The wood grain is perpendicular to the bar's gluing surface, the sides are slightly tapered ending in a rounded top surface. The back bars end in a short scallop but the harmonic bars display longer scallops. Both sets of bars fit snuggly into low thin spruce linings. What doesn't show in the photo is the taper in bar height; highest in the center then tapering several millimeters to the beginning of the scallop.

The back was constructed with a single piece of maple that is lightly figured on its edges. The central part of the back has little curl and a grain pattern characteristic of wood cut well off the quarter. There is an advantage in using wood cut in this manner because the piece has a tendency to cup across the grain. This provides the maker with a partially pre-bent back. On this guitar the back is arched 4 mm across the lower bout, 2 mm across the waist and 3+mm across the upper bout.

A defining characteristic of Staufer's Legnani model is the longitudinal arch of the back. This is achieved by making the height of the side ribs progressively lower from the waist forward to the neck. On this guitar the depth of the rear is slightly less than the depth of the lower bout. The specific measurements including the thickness of the back and soundboard are: Rear 83 mm, lower bout 84 mm, waist 82 mm, upper bout 73.5 mm, neck 69 mm. The ribs are lightly figured maple.

I have already mentioned several features of the Staufer neck. This is a fine example so I will show the main features with a brief explanation.

Maple is used throughout and after all the shaping and fitting is completed the assembled neck is varnished  with black shellac. The peg head is made separately and is attached with a 'V' joint. The angle is 20 degrees.

The peghead is really cool. Six-a-side geared tuners fit in a cavity carved in the rear of the peg head. A beautifully engraved brass plate covers the workings. For contemporary aficionados reproductions of these tuners are available from several sources.

The heel is a separate block of maple glued to the neck and then shaped as one piece. Most of the heel is not visible as it protrudes into the guitar body. The rear surface is shaped to act as a fulcrum. The hole that is seen in the heel contains a screw that passes through and is treaded into the front block. By turning the screw with a clock key the neck angle can be adjusted; rising or lowering the distance of the strings above the fingerboard.

The edge banding of the soundboard mirrors sound hole rings.


This post is only half the story of my examination of the this guitar. It is the visual half. I made a profile tracing of the body and recorded numerous measurements. Soon I will make a working drawing that includes this information and post it on this site as a full size downloadable pdf.

All photos by the author.

Darryl Martin, Principal Curator, Edinburgh University Collection of Historical Musical Instruments, graciously arranged my visit at a time of upheaval -- the home of the collection, St. Cecilia's,
is being readied for extensive renovations.

Doctoral student and Conservation Assistant, Jonathan Santa Maria Bouquet, kindly assisted my visit. By the way, Jonathan's thesis is on the lutes of Sixtus Rauwolf. Something to look forward to!