Monday, February 27, 2012

Building a Voboam Baroque Guitar -- The Rosette

The last post in this series was February 8. The lozenge--shaped elements that form the rosette and border the soundboard are a distinctive feature of Voboam guitars. I can't image building a Voboam model without including this design feature. It is not as difficult as it looks. In this post I will describe a simple mechanical system for laying--out the design of the rosette border and an equally simple method for cutting and assembling the elements.






I lay -- out the design with a compass and ruler on a scrap piece of soundboard spruce. Since the spruce will serve as a backing for the rosette it is a logical material to use. First, I scribe a circle with a circumference greater than the finished design. Then I divide the circle into 24 equal segments that represent twelve white and twelve black lozenges by using a protractor to mark segments of 15 degrees each. A greater or smaller number of segments could be chosen.  I scribe a smaller circle that will determine the angle of the sides of the lozenge. The larger this circle is the more angled the lozenge will appear. The smaller circle is not marked off into segments.  I draw a line with a ruler from each point on the large circle to a tangent on the smaller circle. The last element of the design is to scribe the two circles that represent the finished rosette.

The individual elements are cut from strips of ebony and holly that I thickness to about 1.5mm. The spacers are prepared with black-white purfling material. When I first made this rosette I constructed a miniature mitre--box to duplicate the two angles. However, the angles in the mitre box were slightly wrong. This didn't manner in assembling the first few pieces but the error multiplied and became significant. Finally I was making so many adjustments to the cut pieces and to the mitre-box that I scraped it and started cutting the lozenges "free-hand". In this method the first cut is always the same angle and can be marked with a gauge. The angle of the second cut is determined by the next segment line. Even if this cut proves to be slightly inaccurate the lozenge can still be used because the correction can be made on the next lozenge. This design is so "busy" visually that slight imperfections are unnoticeable. Note also that the material that I cut the lozenges from is wide enough that there is an excess of material on each side of the finished design. This is intentional. If I happen to make a lozenge too small or too large I can still achieve a proper fit by moving it in or out from the center. I glue each piece in place with hot hide glue holding it in position with a push pin and spring clamp. I am in no hurry when I assemble one of these so every so often during my work day I will make and glue a lozenge. This method suits my work habits. It depends on the spontaneous accuracy of hand and eye rather than mechanical repetition.

Once all of the pieces are in place I clean up the surface
of the design and carefully and accurately cut it free
from the excess scrap using a small router. The spruce
backing protects the rosette and keeps it intact during
this operation. I then rout a cavity in the soundboard for the rosette to sit in.  Members of the Voboam family used a variety of designs around the outer edge of the rosette including thin black and white purfling material that I favor. I then thin out the spruce backing and glue the rosette in its recess.


There is a very useful article by Florence Gétreau on the various construction elements found in the guitars of the Voboam family including a list of barring patterns. In my next post on this guitar I will lay-out the pattern and explain several options that I have used previously.


Thursday, February 23, 2012

Lacôte 10 String Guitars in Paris

author's photo
Yesterday I visited the Musée de la musique  in Paris to examine two Lacôte 10 string guitars -- decacordes, as they are known, numbers E. 1040 and E. 986.5.1. I have been interested in the pre-classical guitar since my earliest years of building instruments but the era has occupied only a niche for me. Lately, thing have changed. I have lute clients who are interested in the music for accompanying singers and /or for exploring the virtuosic repertoire. It is not just a question of having the appropriate instrument, but of understanding what the period was all about, sound-wise. Many makers built multi-string guitars and I am intrigued by their work. Obviously, the addition of extra strings create imbalances, structural and tonal. These two guitars represent several solutions.

The guitar, in the foreground, is anonymous but built in the style of Lacôte. It is as meticulously built and with excellent materials. Museum curator, Joël Dugot, suggested that Lacôte may have allowed his employees to build guitars for personal sale. Perhaps this is an example of one. The guitar in the background is a Lacôte. This guitar presents a very elegant solution to the problem of weight that such a wide neck produces. The guitar also displays a lever mechanism for the changing the pitch of the diapasons. The treatment of both of these issues in the construction of the anonymous guitar is more utilitarian. You can see photos and descriptions of these guitars on the museum's website at: http://mediatheque.cite-musique.fr/masc/ .  I will report my finding to you at a future date.

As always, Joël Dugot's assistance during my visit was generous and informative. Thank you.


Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Marx Unverdorben Lutes in Barcelona

A wall size caricature of Issac Albéniz greets staff and
visitors at the museum's documentation center
Lute makers always seem to be curious about "new" models -- neglected instruments in museums' storage or ones that surface from private collections arouse an understandable degree of interest. Not that long after I started building lutes an article appeared in the LSA Journal that described lutes in a Barcelona  museum; John Griffiths, The Lutes in the Museo Municipal de Música in Barcelona”. Journal of the Lute Society of America12(1979): 48-66.  One of them, a seven course, built in the  sixteenth century by Marx Unverdorben was reported to be in original condition. From that time on I have been fascinated with Unverdorben and his work. He and his lutes are  enigmatic. I had difficulty in tracking him down. Little is known of his life -- there may have been two Unverdorbens -- and his lutes represent styles that include early renaissance nine rib models and later multi-rib types. My interest in the Barcelona Unverdorben was hampered by the fact that  the museum has had three homes since Griffiths' article appeared. Things started to come together last year when a web search turned up his website:
http://www.vihuelagriffiths.com/JohnGriffiths/Home.html
I got in touch and an exchange of emails dissolved time, distance and language barriers. I was able to arrange an appointment to examine not only the original Unverdorben seven course but also an Unverdorben theorbo (?) fragment. My appointment was yesterday!

Here is what I found. In the foreground is the seven course. The string length is 67cm and the bowl is 33cm wide to give you an idea of its size. The thirteen ribs are bird's-eye maple. The second lute, in three parts, appears to be a small theorbo, but only a stump of the original neck survives so it is difficult to be sure. Also, the label dates the lute to 1581! The ivory bowl is badly damaged on the treble side, the neck block and neck stump are detached from the bowl, but the belly is nearly intact and the barring appears unaltered. The treatment of the bars is very interesting. I am looking forward to studying my drawings and notes and sharing my findings with you.

I am grateful to Oriol Rossinyol, Co-director of the Museu de la Música and his staff for the warm welcome and generous support they showed me during my visit. I especially want to thank John Griffiths for helping to make this possible.

Click on the "Online catalogue" on this page to search the museum's collection:
http://www.bcn.cat/museumusica/en/LesColeccions.html


Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Building a Baroque Guitar after Jean Voboam

In one of my early posts ( Sept 10) I mentioned that I usually work on two instruments at once in order to be economical with my time. I had been working on a French guitar after Jean Voboam but I had reached the stage where I needed the tiered parchment rose that I had belatedly ordered from Gianluca Ceccarini. 




The second instrument was the Kaiser theorbo that became the  focus of this blog at the end of last year. As I commented once, it is more difficult to blog about instrument making than it is build the instruments. And it certainly takes longer to get the posts finished.The theorbo was finished in October and the guitar in December. I wanted to keep my blog current, but it doesn't seem possible. So now, six weeks after finishing the guitar, I'll pick up the story where I began taking photos for my blog, part way through the guitar's construction.






By early September I had assembled the neck, side ribs and back for the body. The photo at right shows the "slipper foot" construction -- the neck, heel and interior block are assembled forming a single unit. At this stage it is convenient to have the neck nearly finished, that is, completely contoured and veneered, and it is, except that I don't have a photo to show you. 


The ebony side ribs are let into slots cut in the side of the slipper.  The mass of the slipper is reduced to a minimum. I cut the slots for the ribs as tight as possible and chastise myself when I have to tighten the joint by adding shims. 




The rear block is shaped in such a way as to reduce the gluing surface of each of the three elements that are attached to it -- belly, back and ribs. The narrow foot of the rear block mirrors the slipper on the neck. Internal features of baroque guitars are difficult to ascertain. I consulted two sources for the design of the  slipper and the rear foot.








This photo, taken by Viola d'Amore player 
Thomas Georgi, of a Voboam guitar conserved in the 
Smithsonian National Museum of American History,
Washington, D.C. shows both the slender profile
of the slipper and the triangular foot; evidence of a
desire not only to reduce mass but also to firmly anchor the back.




As you can see in the next photo, also taken by Thomas, the back was constructed without supporting bars. The thickness of the wood was considered sufficient to maintain stability.   
























I am not convinced. I added three struts to my back even though it is nearly 3mm thick. I feel that an unsupported back is tempting fate --  risking stability problems when the guitar is thousands of miles away in the hands of a disgruntled owner. 

On the other hand, current research, particularly by Daniel Sinier and Françoise de Ridder, in their article Voboam: Inside perspective demonstrates that Voboam guitars were originally built with a minimum of internal barring and support on the back and ribs resulting in a distinctive sound that has been obscured by subsequent modifications.

The easiest way to access this important article is to search "Voboam inside perspective" and view the PDF as a Quick View. 

The Smithsonian website is difficult to navigate, but finding more photos of the the Voboam guitar pictured above is rewarding. In your search engine type Smithsonian ID number MI*65.0591 and follow the results.



















Thursday, January 26, 2012

Thomas Mace and I repair John's theorbo


"A dialogue between the author and his lute: The lute complaining sadly of its great wrongs and injuries".

John Edward's theorbo needed attention. Since his New Year's Day program for The Musicians in Ordinary required using an archlute, his theorbo, which had been suffering many "wrongs", could in the interval, be put right. Being in the holiday spirit myself, I thought what fun it would be to invite the venerable Thomas Mace himself to oversee our work and to lend a hand if he thought things weren't right.

By rapping on the soundboard of John's lute it was obvious from the dull response that one or more of the harmonic bars were loose. Thomas was explicit in describing the technique and the tools necessary for mending this annoyance.

 "Firstuntwist your Strings, only so much, as you may have Liberty to take them from the Bridge.... draw those of the first Head all together through your Hand, and twist them about that Head and Pegs: Then take the other four Ranks of Basses, and do the like with them..." 

I have always followed Thomas' advice but gut strings have a mind and memory of their own and they are an unruly mob regardless of how carefully you treat them.


 "Proceed next to the taking off the Lace, and if it be a Parchment, you may be the bolder with it, and never fear the spoiling of it, for you must have a New one put on." The lace on John's theorbo is made of black cloth cut on the bias. I have several yards of the fabric so I won't mind spoiling it.

Thomas continues: "First, have a Dish of Water , and let it close by you upon a Table, and with a Linen rag,...anoint the Lace all over... and then warm all your  Lace over with your Iron, being red hot..."






The photos demonstrate the technique that Mace describes but the tools are a little different. Thomas suggests; "Let your Smith make you a Four-Square Iron, about the length of your Middle Finger, and about three quarters of an Inch Square...". A friend of my daughter's did study to be a smith but was never able to get started in business and is now building custom bicycles. Obviously following Thomas' directions was going to be difficult so I decided to improvise. In the photo (left) I am using the blunt end an old 25 watt soldering iron. "... and then warm all your Lace over with your Iron, being red hot, drawing your Hand slowly and closely, from place to place, till you think the Lace is hot quite through, (but take heed of Burning) and when you have done so, you may take the Lace at one end, and draw it off, so easily as if It had never been Glewed..."  Indeed! The heat from the iron essentially steams the water saturated lace off the edge of the lute.   This was surprising quick and tidy.


The next procedure: separating the belly from the bowl by slipping a small knife into the glue joint between the belly and the top rib is nerve racking to me; fraught with peril. Thomas agrees; "...Attempt the Belly after the same manner, but yet with more Caution..." Among the the list of tools necessary for this procedure Thomas described the knife to be used. " A little working - Knife; such, are most commonly made of pieces of Broken - Good - Blades..." Well, I prefer our kitchen knives for this sort of thing. My favorite for this operation is a three inch Henckels paring knife. It has a marvellously stiff, thin blade that keeps a good edge with a comfortable handle. I just have to be sure to return it to the kitchen when I am finished using it on a lute.

Thomas explains, "Then take your Little Working-Knife, and begin to try to get it between the Belly and the Back, at the Bottom first... And if you have Wetted, and Heated enough, your Knife shall find an easie Entrance..."


I have only built a few lutes with a lace binding rather than a hard wood half binding. But I must say that at this stage the work is going very smoothly compared to my experience with removing bellies from lutes edged with a half binding.  There are several reasons for this, I think. First, there is no finish under the lace so the heat and moisture that is used to remove the lace immediately attacks the glue joint as well. And then too there is little concern for spoiling the finish on the edge of the belly so if the knife does not "find an "easie  Entrance ... Wet and Heat that part again where you are at work, till you perceive it will willingly yield to the gentle force of your Hand and Knife."



Continuing:
"So when that Flat bottom is opened...then put in your Knife again, and when you feel a Barr, then get your  Knife under that Barr, and so gently force it, till you perceive It loose. And so from Barr to Barr..."
Factors such as the strength of the original glue, the height of the bar ends and the closeness of fit will influence the ease or difficulty with which the bars yield their grasp.


Coming to the area of the neck block Thomas suggests that 
"... you must again Wet and Heat and thorowly, and then 
taking the bottom of the Belly (which is loose) in one hand, 
and the Neck of the Lute in the other, you will find 
(with a little forcing) that it will come off very readily... "

I have seen the results of this manoeuvre on lutes both ancient and modern. It is a sad indictment of those with little patience. Thomas continues with a wiser method; " but if need be, you may take a board Meat-knife, and getting it underneath within, help it to part by degrees."  Lute makers will often glue a thin sheet of paper between the neck block and the belly when assembling new lutes. This aids in the removal of the belly if necessary. This is visible in the photo (below).

"And now your Lute is quite undone, and you must get it mended again as well as you can." Thomas explains in detail how to mend cracks of which John's lute has suffered many, but I repaired those long ago and the problem at hand is several loose bars. "Thus having mended all the Cracks, fall to work upon those Barrs you find loose,


which most commonly be at the ends about an Inch or two... " Thomas continues by describing the cleaning off the  old glue, applying new glue, setting it with a hot iron and holding the joint close until the glue cools. Most interesting to me, he describes making home-made clamps from trenchers. "...it will be convenient that you have in readiness two or three pair of little slips of Trenchers, such as Boys make for Snappers, about an Inch broad, and 4,5 or 6inches long. Tye these, two and two together, at one end with a strong Pack-thread; and they will serve to slip over the Barr end, and so hold It and the Belly very close..."




A trencher is a wooden platter, round or square usually roughly made of beech or sycamore. By the 17th century they were being replaced by pewter, earthenware or porcelain by those who could afford them. The image of a collection of trenchers that I used as a model to fabricate my trencher clamp is taken from:



I quickly made one trencher from scrap beech to see how the concept worked. Of course the success of the idea depends on the thickness of the trencher material which I was only able to guess at. I tied one end tightly together with a piece of gut string. In practice, the amount of pressure that the clamp exerted seemed about right for this operation. It held fast and since the material was wood I didn't worry about marring the top of the belly. Furthermore their lightness in comparison to metal clamps is an advantage for many delicate operations. I intend to make several more to have on hand.

Thomas is precise and thorough with his directions for removing the old glue    first by heating the iron "...to such a height, that you may nimbly and lightly touch, and scorch all those Rough Places...", then to "scrape gently ... to the very Wood ... till you see All clear and smooth." He further admonishes: "Take notice,that in cleaning off Glew, and Paper by scorching, it is only to be done in the Inside of Instruments; for it will spoil the Gloss or Varnish of the Outside of any." Thomas continues; "There is One thing more to do...which is to cleane carefully every Barr end, and the whole Round-side-edge, of the Back and Belly...that the New Glew may take fast hold..."

When all of this was done I was ready for the next step. "First bring your Back and Belly together, and see if
 they will fit...Then fear nothing, but boldly proceed to the Uniting, which must be done after This manner."


 I cringed: "Take your Aul, and after you have laid the Belly True in the uppermost Flat (the top of the neck block)...prick a Hole quite through 
the Belly, in the midst of that upper Flat, and joyn Belly and Back together."

 This serves as a method for positioning the upper belly accurately  during final assembly. I don't have an awl so I used a hand pin-vise with a small drill bit.





Now I want to stop and set the stage for the next few steps in this story.  Gluing the back and belly together will necessitate switching back and forth from a sticky glue brush to a hot iron which I thought would best be handled by four hands rather than two. Thomas volunteered to help, and I appreciated his spirit, but I thought John would be more nimble.

 In the photo John is smearing glue on a small piece of paper (I use 90 lb. water-color paper) My glue pot, lower left, consists of a hot plate, sauce pan and a small plastic container of glue  that I clamp to the inside of the pan with a clothes peg. My "iron" is now a  shortened artist's spatula. For heat I use a propane torch that heats the spatula red hot in a few seconds.



"Now to your Glew-Pot, with Back and Belly, and begin with which you please, and anoint all the Edges Carefully round ... and every Barr-end be sure you touch well...bring Both to the Fire, and warm them a little, and clap them quickly together, and with your Aul prick and fasten them together at the Top in the same hole..." Thomas' expertise and thoughtfulness is evident in the following: "...you must be exactly Carefull, that you Clog neither the Back nor Belly, with the least drop of Glew more than is needfull; for all superfluity of Glew, is hurtfull to the Sound of an Instrument."




"Now having in readiness your Great Iron, red hot, heat the edges thorowly all over, and then especially the upper Flat where your aul sticks, till you perceive the Glew is become warm and thin." For this procedure I used my electric iron set on maximum with a scrap of cloth between the iron and the lute.

 "Then begin with the upper Flat, and with your Fingers you may force it close to its old and true place, and then with little pieces of Paper... cover all the upper flat in the Joynts, yet leaving about a Straw-bredth or two betwixt Paper and Paper, so that you may see how the Joynt joyns, and presently scorch on those Papers, on after another, leaning pritty hard upon each one, with the squared end of your broad Iron, which must not be too Hot, for fear of burning the Belly, yet hot enough to scorch the Papers, and the superfluous Glew, into a Crustiness."




At the beginning I was too hesitant and did not heat the iron hot enough. The glue melted but didn't hold. I held my iron in the flame until it glowed red hot. That did the trick. I was careful to apply the iron only on the part of the paper that covered the area where the lace would lie, both top and side. It immediately scorched the paper. Then I quickly, but lightly, followed through by touching the after-length of the paper. The iron had cooled enough to still set the glue but not to risk scorching the glossy or varnished areas.



"Then after this manner proceed Inch by Inch, first on one side, and then on the other...and be sure at every Bar, you thrust it so close as possibly you can, with your Thumb and fingers; and Paper it well all the way with Scorching..."  
















"...and when you have rounded it Thus, lay it by till next day    
 before you cleane off Those Papers, &c."


When I examined our work I was satisfied that the belly and back had joined properly and the glued had crystallized. The scorch marks seemed ominous and I was worried that I had marred the belly or the back. But I had to wait until the next day.





"And to cleane It, only do Thus: Take a dish of Water, and with a Rag bemoisten all the Scorche'd Papers and Glew, often renewing the moisture..."

 I deviated from Thomas' instructions a little and applied a strip of damp cloth to the edge of the belly. After a few minutes I found that; "they will be so soft, that with your Nails lightly runnimg backwards upon It, it will all come off as you will have it." I was pleased to find that all of the scorch marks fell within the area that the lace would cover.








"When This is done, proceed to the putting on of your Lace..." As I mentioned previously, I have a supply of black cloth that I cut on the bias to enable it to curve around the edge of the belly. Furthermore, I fold the cut strip over on itself and iron a crease in it so that it will lie evenly on over the edge.

"...you shall first lay it in Water a while to steep...and to make it Gentle and plyable...(a short steep will soften the cloth but not remove the crease)... Then (sitting down and taking the lute into your Lap)...Anoint about a fingers length or more of the Lace lightly with Glew...and begin your work at which side you please, holding It hard and close with your Thumb and finger at the top, draw it hard down with your other hand..smoothing it gently backwards and forwards with your Thumb and Finger, till you perceive It has fastened...and so proceed till all be Finish'd."


"This being done, lay by your Lute for a Day or Two, that the Glew may harden, and then you may proceed to the Stringing of it."
                                                                      


This was quite a bit of work and we all thought that it turned out well. John was pleased to get his lute back. Thomas enjoyed sharing his passion for the lute with us. And I am happy to have brought you the story.

The text of Thomas Mace's directions for repairing one's lute that I used in this report is available as a download:

http://imslp.org/wiki/Musick's_Monument_(Mace,_Thomas)
Part II -- The civil Part; or the Lute made easy


John Edwards will play his theorbo at The Musicians in Ordinary next performance:

8PM, Feb. 18th 2012 at Heliconian Hall
WHEN TIRCIS MET CHLORIS

The amours of shepherds Tircis, Corydon etc. and nymphs Chloris, Phyllis and others are laid bare in Baroque duets and dialogues from the time of Monteverdi with guest Bud Roach, tenor and Baroque guitarist.





     





Monday, January 9, 2012

My New Workspace

I am nearly finished re-organizing my workspace. The new bench tops are built and boxes of papers, tax records, magazines and lumber are stashed underneath. I still have to mount tool racks on the walls for chisels but I want the walls to remain free of visual obstructions as much as possible. The area to the right of this photo has the metal storage cabinet for flammable finishing supplies and a pair of stacked IKEA cabinets for everything from templates and drawings to speciality cauls and miniature clamps. These cabinets are  purely functional and necessary but they aren't much to look at so I didn't include a photo.

The machine room (below) is essentially set up but I still need to decide where to place tools such as pliers, wrenches and vise-grips.


This photo is taken from the door way between the two rooms. This area was my daughter's drum room while she was still at home. It is separated from the rest of the house with gyprock plasterboard walls which provide fairly good sound proofing. To the right of this photo (below) is my dust collector that is attached to each of my machines.  The collector bags are slightly porous so when this thing gets turned on they inflate rapidly and spew a cloud of fine dust. In order to contain the pollution I have enclosed it in its own tiny room with furnace filters that allow it to breathe. The window allows me to check to see if it is functioning properly. It does a great job of collecting the heavier dust particles and every workshop should have one.



In the fore-gound of this photo is the thickness sander while the jointer is against the wall.

I don't have room for everything and I have two machines that are redundant. I have decided to offer them to any instrument maker, current or future, in the Toronto area, who is willing to haul them away. They are pictured below. One is a 14' Delta bandsaw that is twenty years old. It comes with a 6" riser (not picture) and assorted blades. It is still an adequate machine. The second is a Beaver Rockwell lathe. The swing is 7" with a 36" bed. I "inherited" this machine from guitar builder Jean Larrivee when I worked for him during the 1976-77 season before he moved out West. I turned all of my lute pegs on this machine up until a few years ago. If you are interested in either of these items let me know:

schreiner@sympatico.ca      My regular instrument building posts will return in a few days.


Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Workshop Re-Organization

December has always been a slow month for me. So this year I decided to use the time productively and reorganize my workshop. This needs to be done every so often and I have been putting it off for some time. I have trouble throwing things away; tools that I may need for some obscure project and wood scraps that could come in handy have accumulated and I have run out of room. Many artisans experience this dilemma.



 I work in two rooms. One contains my machinery; bandsaws, jointer, thickness sander, drill-press, lathes, and a dust collector. The other room is my instrument building area. It contains my principal free standing workbench and several long counter-top type wall benches with storage underneath and all of my hand tools. I decided that I could make better use of the space if  I switched the two rooms. The problem is that there is no place to put everything while I am making the switch - except to pile it up.

Once I made some space in my former machine room I was able to move the machinery into its new location. I was able to move the jointer and drill press myself by putting rollers under them and wheeling them into place. But my bandsaw and thickness sander were too heavy and cumbersome so I hired a pair of movers.

 It was humorous. It took these guys ten minutes. I had removed the table from the bandsaw and unbolted it from its base. The largest guy looked at the bandsaw, rocked it gently on its stand gauging its weight and then putting it in a bear hug carried it into the new machine room. The sander was more problematic because it was a tight fit through the doorway. Once the new storage areas are finished I will be able to stash the boxes that are blocking the window and make progress on getting things organized.
Now that I have some space in my new assembly room (the jointer and dust collector were located against the vacant wall) I can patch the walls and paint. The vacant wall has been finished and in a few days I will build a wall bench with underneath storage. Yesterday I took down the tool racks from the wall on the right (the bandsaw was located here) and patched the rough spots. This morning I painted and this afternoon I'll start building the bench against the far wall. My principal bench will be located in the spot occupied by the cluttered table in the foreground. I hope to be finished soon.

 My New Year's Resolution is to have a great time building wonderful lutes and guitars. And to all of you - Best wishes for the Holidays!


The first image is taken from:  http://quod.lib.umich.edu/d/did/
The Encyclopedia of Diderot & d'Alembert Collaborative Translation Project