The Guitar Designer's Workshop

PBS Television Visits the Workshop

You will want to turn off the jukebox audio before watching this clip. ➚
OFF switch is in the right hand column. ➚

 

Pickup Progress and the Z-Ray Factor

The Sakura’s engraved steel plates interact with the magnetic field of the pickups. This made it essential to do on-guitar ear testing with mockup parts prior to picking the final configuration. I’ve chosen the set from about ten different possibiliteis based upon my taste, but knowing full well that this guitar is going to sound unique because of its construction parameters. The most satisfying sound came from a set that Seymour wound for me in his pickup man-cave in Santa Barbara. Shimmering highs, with a strong midrange wallop—these gave the guitar a huge presence for big Stonsey chords.

With that part of the build process completed, it was time to assemble the finished engraved pickup set.

The first step was to remove the mockup covers. and then replace them with the final brushed nickel and engraved versions. I’m always careful not to distress the parts while handling, but I also like to leave some evidence that an actual human built the guitar.

No guitar that I make is ever perfect, and that’s what makes them perfect. 

With that job done, I turned to the process of shielding the control cavity. I previously used a shield paint made in Belgium that did an excellent job, but electronis genius John Grail turned me on to an American-made nickel-based paint that is used by military electronics makers to isolate computer and communication rooms. I procured a small amount and thinned it enough to go through my touch up gun.

This stuff goes on like rice pudding but dries to a nice silver layer and the conductivity is off the scale. I’m thinking of painting my house with it to avoid Z-Ray exposure and unwanted cell-phone calls. Enjoy your weekend!

 

Sakura Backplate Engraving: Pre-Fit Closeups

It’s now time to apply the final lacquer coat to the Sakura, which means a final fit test is in order. This procedure allows me to check all the clearances and alignments of the hardware without the danger of damaging the final finish. I also don’t want to compromise the engraved pieces. These parts took nine months to be engraved by hand, and I absolutely want everything to fit.

Everything seems to fit fine with just the right amount of clearance for the last thin coat. I’ve decided to go with a lower gloss vintage style nitro to alow the brilliance of the metalwork to come forward visually. This will be achieved by adding a flattening additive to the nitrocellulose lacquer before spraying. 

Every time I unwrap the engraved parts they bowl me over with their fabulous detail. I only wish that these photos could reveal the depth of the work that is visible in person.

The cherry blossom petals are adorned with real rose gold and the leaves are green gold. At the very top of the picture a 24k yellow gold sun rises through the clouds. The entire plate background is finished in brushed nickel.

 

Now it’s time to get into the paint room and get on with the program.

 

No Corners Worth Cutting

I’ve spent a lot of my life cutting corners. Carrying two bags of groceries at a time to save steps, or taking a back street to clip a few precious seconds off a trip to the store. We all do it. My hobby is racing sports cars—the ultimate corner cutting exercise. 

At age thirteen I devised jigs and fixtures to hold brass tubing in place while soldering them into slot-car chassis to be sold at a local hobby store. A succession of factory jobs building things like film inspection machines, splicers, mechanical scales and grain moisture testers introduced me to the big-time of cost-cutting time management. Even my promotion to purchasing agent at nineteen taught me the ideas of maintaining a lean inventory and shaving pennies off an order. Later, my studies with Japanese Kaizen gurus Yoshihisa Doi and Hajime Oba took this to an even higher level. You might say it’s in my blood to look for a better, faster, cheaper way.

 

 
When I first set up shop as a guitar maker, those same skills helped to fashion jigs and fixtures that kept things consistent and maintained an orderly flow. My training had also taught me to seek help and insight from those more experienced than myself. So, in 1980, while setting up the Hamer guitar factory in Illinois I invited a visit from Stan Rendell, former President of Gibson Guitars. As he looked around, Rendell pointed out places where money and time could be saved without upsetting the customer. He mentioned that he could help whittle the time it took to make a complete guitar to under eight man-hours. I was horrified. The changes he suggested would certainly have reduced manufacturing time, but not without consequence. It became clear that the modern world had shifted its focus from improvement and consistency, to reducing cost without affecting customer perception.

 

Today, I’m beginning my second day of testing pickups for the Sakura guitar. Every build goes through this process because every guitar is different and unique. From experience, it’s easy to whittle down the choices before I even begin. Still there are variables that only ear testing can address. I have a test rig that holds a pickup in place under strings to give me a baseline along with measuring the impedance and inductance. Because the Sakura guitar has steel plates on both front and back, the inductance will be important. Still, the final ear testing in the guitar will be the final exam.  

When I talk to people about what I do, the thing that always surprises them the most is how much time it takes. In a one-click world where the emphasis is continually on saving time and cutting costs, this kind of patient work is almost viewed as quaint. I could just put a pickup that was deemed “good enough” in the guitar and assume that the customer will change it out anyway. But that would be a waste of my skills. I just remind folks that I’ve already cut enough corners for several lifetimes.

 

Axe in Hand

Not too far from here an old factory sits quietly alongside the Farmington river. Once upon a time it was the pride of the townspeople. The products made there were superior quality and sold around the world. The company employed most of the town. Those were the good times, but now they’re gone. Groups of business people have tried to revive and repurpose the old mill—none to any good effect. Sure, there are still some tenants inside. A few businesses continue to turn out some product, but for the most part, bitter and defeated ghosts walk the hallways.

I thought about the old axe factory today as I cut up some kindling for the wood stove that heats my shop. The small Fayette R. Plumb Co. hatchet I use almost every day felt good in my hand—its hickory handle burnished smooth from decades of use. Most of the original finish on the handle has worn off, and the gold foil Boy Scout seal is tattered and illegible. I’ve had this tool since 1963 when I joined the Scouts at age eleven. Somehow, it has followed me through countless moves back and forth across the country. I’ve always taken it for granted.

 

The Plumb tool company can be traced back to Jonathan Yerkes, who had been an established Moreland, Pennsylvania toolmaker since 1856. Yerkes moved his concern to Philadelphia and partnered with a young man named Fayette Plumb in 1887. Eventually, Plumb bought out his partner and the name was changed to the Fayette R. Plumb Company. These were tools made to work and made to last. Over the next hundred years, Plumb manufactured fine tools in Philadelphia, until the company was consolidated with the Cooper Group and manufacturing was shifted primarily to China to cut costs. 

Like so many products once made in this country, axes are much cheaper to buy from places like Mexico and China. Will those tools stand the test of time? Now, I don’t doubt that the people who toil in those foreign factories are fine folks. They deserve a shot at a better life, just like our ancestors did here. It only makes me sad that most of what remains of all that effort is a tool that will probably outlive me. 

 

Interestingly, my particular Plumb hatchet utilizes an epoxy resin to attach the head to handle. The process, which Plumb patented on September 2, 1958 is said to reduce the vibration of the tool overall. Reducing vibration is obviously a benefit in a striking tool but not in a guitar. That gummy epoxy is still doing its job today fifty years later. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an axe to grind.

 

 

Fitting Sakura

The week has really flown by. I’ve been so busy with a host of things that I’m only now getting a chance to survey the fitting of Sakura’s parts. Eight long months ago, I delivered the steel plates to be engraved with Heidi at Baron. They were right in the middle of some very high-profile jobs so I knew I’d have to wait my turn. Luckily, I had plenty of other work to do, but now it’s time to get back on the Sakura. The first step is checking the fit, as the guitar has been painted in the interim.

The brushed nickel finish looks great against the transparent cherry lacquer, and the neck fit is perfect so I won’t have to do any finessing there.

Time to dig out the hardware I set aside for this build and carry on. More in a few days. I’ll post some photos of the back plate then.

 

Being Thankful

Without resorting to my usual long-winded spiels bristling with cultural tie-ins, I’ll just say “happy Thanksgiving” to all of you. Hopefully, this holiday finds you with much to be thankful for. I’ll be spending the day with my wife Carla and our dog Heidi, the resident optimist. I’d tell you about how I wish that I was more like our canine friend, who greets each day with joy and a wagging tail—but I digress.

Yesterday, a hawk flew past my window. I was able to grab the camera and got a pretty average photo. Behind the shop, the hawk settled down for a snack of fresh chipmunk. I was really surprised by its size—so much larger up close than they appear when winging high overhead.

Later, the dog alerted me to a familyof deer bedded down for a rest about twenty yards from our back door. Just seeing all the creatures here makes me happy. A good way to start the proceedings. Later today, friends will join us for dinner and conversation. I have to return some books to Jim, and want him to borrow Woody Guthrie’s Bound for Glory, if he hasn’t already read it twice. Maybe we’ll get to jam a little too.

Because this is the Workshop blog, I’ll leave you with some images of something else I’m extremely thankful for. The exquisite hand engraving for the Sakura guitar done by Heidi Roos.

It is difficult to capture in a photograph, the way that hand engraving catches the light. The human touch leaves each fine stroke beveled differently from the next in subtle ways that give the images life.

This is a good look at the spot plating technique. The cherry blossom is real rose gold, and the leaves are done in green gold. The background is a brushed finish of nickel plate. Here you can see the superiority of handwork over the more common photo-etching process on production examples. This is where the time (and money) goes.

The staggering amount of detail of this piece just blows me away—more than I’d hoped for. Heidi just knocked this one right out of the park.

After the holiday I’ll get some shots of the back piece which is even more stunning. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving everyone.

Tweed Case Wrap Up

 In keeping with my intention to construct individually singular builds for my Signature Series guitars, I’ve made certain that the cases are unique to each guitar as well. The Crow, inspired in part by travelling musicians and the escapades depicted in Kerouac’s On the Road, will receive a lacquered, woven-cloth covered hard case. The covering, which is often erroneously refered to as tweed, is actually a twill material familiar to guitarists as the finish used by Fender on their 1950s amplifiers and guitar cases. My reference was a 1940s suitcase that I found in a junk shop in New Hampshire.

 

The modern material supplied by the manufacturer was not an acceptable reproduction, so I went about lacquering it myself. I wanted the patina of age and experience that would be a fitting companion to the guitar itself.

The final touch was to add a hygrometer to monitor the humidity within the case. The gauge was inserted into the case pocket from the outside, which required a pair of pass-throughs to allow the interior air to reach the sampling point on the back of the hygrometer. I used brass grommets to match the rest of the case hardware.

Here a setting tool is used to crimp the grommet onto the pocket lid. This connects the main chamber of the case to the pocket.

I combed through my leather selection to find a remnant to use for the case pocket’s pull tab. I’d entertained making the pull something crow or bird-themed, but rejected the idea as too cute and just went with a utilitarian pull tab of brown leather to match the case trim. 

Once trimmed to size and burnished to match, I punched a hole and fastened the pull to the pocket door flap with a brass rivet.

After the gauge was sealed to the outside with silicone I could insert the pocket into the case. The orientation is such that it can be read easily when the case stands on its end or side.

Now it was just a matter of fitting everything and screwing the mounting blocks into the case. The inside is finished with red velvet plush and the back of the gauge is covered except for another brass grommet.

The entire idea is to allow the interior humidity and temperature to be read from the outside. This is particularly useful when the instrument is in a rack with other guitars.

For an all analog solution, I think it turned out quite well. After living with the results for a few days, it has become so normal to check the readings that I can’t imagine not having it there. The Crow’s nest is ready.

Snowstorms and Sakura

Wow. It didn’t seem possible, yet there it was. Two feet of heavy snow before the leaves were even close to being off the trees. The result was catastrophic. On our road the trees went down like tenpins, pulling down powerlines and bowling over utility poles. In an apocalyptic orange flash, transformers energized with tens of thousands of volts were tossed into the ravines around us. The roads were blocked, the power was out and even cell service was extremely spotty.

What followed was a week of melting snow for water and living like campers. After rebuilding a reluctant chainsaw, I got to work with neighbors to clear a path out. Luckily, we’ve got solar heat here, so at least we didn’t freeze.

I didn’t really miss the gym as there was plenty of physical labor to be done. Just when I’d thought the splitting and stacking of firewood was about finished, we had twenty times that amount to clear off the road just to get out.

Generators, jugs of fuel, tractors and chainsaws. By the third day, we could get onto the main roads, although there were plenty of downed powerlines to avoid.

After a full week, the power was finaly back, but twelve days into it there’s still no internet. I’m posting this from mylaptop in a cafe.

Downstate, things weren’t quite so bad. One of the first emails that I was able to access informed me that Heidi Roos had finished the engraving for the Sakura guitar, so I decided to take a ride down to Baron Engraving to pick it up. When Heidi, Pat Stuhlman and Custom Shop manager Tom Lent presented the work to me, I was lost for words. Heidi had reproduced my drawing, and improved it by adding a three-dimensional depth not evident in my original art.

The engraving and gold work exceeded my expectations completely. The detail is amazing and the nuance of the inlaid golds really make this a superior piece. The photos here don’t do it justice. While in the Baron shop, I did take a few photos of some of their other work in progress.

Check out this Colt revolver in a matte nickel finish. Hartford’s best made better.

On Heidi’s workbench was a shotgun part positioned underneath the stereo microscope she uses to see her work as she engraves with a mryiad of fine tools.

Here, Heidi holds the bridge pickup cover for the Sakura. It completes the cherry blossom engraving on the front plate pickguard seamlessly. You can see the brushed nickel background, rose gold blossom and yellow gold leaf highlights. I can’t wait to get some better shots back at the Workshop.

Active Lifestyle Weekend

Regular readers of this page are familiar with my obsession with vehicles. True enough, my current column in Premier Guitar maps out paralells between guitars and cars. So please forgive me if I dwell a bit more on the full-throttle side of my brain.

In addition to hanging out in my shop and building guitars, I write for automotive publications and websites, including Carspondent.com, home of the Active Lifestyle Vehicle awards. ALV is the only car-of-the-year program to combine the input of nationally-recognized automotive journalists with elite and area athletes to determine which cars and trucks best meet the needs of buyers with active lifestyles. To my delight, I was asked to participate as a member of the judging panel. As a bicycle enthusiast and outdoorsman-by-default, I felt that I could at least add loading guitars and amps into the vehicles as a real-world test. Our mission: drive and evaluate thirty two vehicles in seven categories.

This year, the ALV evaluations were held in Phoenix, Arizona at the home of Local Motors, builders of incredible off-road vehicles—drool-worthy machines from hell. The event was also sponsored by OnStar and world-famous collector car auction powerhouse Russo and Steele.

Below is a view inside the Local Motors factory. LM treated us to a nice breakfast buffet and a tour of the facilities. Through the windows behind the Astroturf seating area you can see into the engineering studio. 

Seeing the Rally Fighters being built up close was a thrill. I’d followed the evolution of the company over the years so it was a priveledge to be invited inside.

  

Lusting over the stripped down and purposeful machines along with me were with esteemed journalists (and heroes of mine) Larry Edsall and Denise McCluggage. If you’re a car person, Larry and Denise probably need no introduction. For those who aren’t familiar I’ll say that if there’s a subject in the automotive world that Larry hasn’t published something on I have yet to find it. Apart from being a fine author, journalist and motorsports photographer, Denise drove a Ferarri for Luigi Chinetti’s organization (NART) and was class winner at the Sebring International 12 hour in 1961. Unphased by A-list rock stars, I was thrilled and nervous to meet her.

 
Also on hand was former Indy 500 racer Lyn St. James. Before Danica Patrick, Lyn was Indy’s first female Rookie of the Year in the first of her seven 500s. In 1995 she set the world record on a closed-course for women—averaging 225.722 mph. Yow! 

I was hoping to ride shotgun with Lyn testing the 550 horsepower Cadillac CTS Sport Wagon. This thing has got some serious grunt—sort of a Corvette station wagon. By the way, the Caddy would make a slick ride to get you to a gig—as many musicians tend to run late. It actually will swallow up a half-stack, three guitars and a pedalboard with the rear seats folded down. If you are playing club gigs and can afford this ride, you’re probably doing it for fun anyway. Here during the initial walk around Lyn is casting a glance at the Range Rover Evoque.

Despite my initial impression that it was a watered-down suburbanite car, the Evoque intrigued me in person. Small enough to get into my garage at home (hint) it was nimble and fun to toss around. The interior was pure joy, with double stitched leather everywhere. Powered by a turbocharged four cylinder, the Evoque is at once a throwback to the original Land Rovers and a look at the future of the marque. I had to ask the brand specialist if it was indeed a four—it was fairly spunky. I barely know who Victoria Beckham is, but I think this car is sexy. Will it go offroad? I think most buyers never will.

Another favorite of mine was the new Fiat. Like a blast from the past, Fiat comes back to American roads with this funky little car. Although totally worthless as a musician’s gigmobile due to a miniscule cargo area, I had to vote it up as one of the most enjoyable rides. The smile on my face as I zipped through the Phoenix traffic was almost as big as when I floored the Caddy. The exterior color cues inside the car were a nice touch.

 
Surprisingly quiet, the Fiat registered an average of 62 db at 60 mph—about the same as my Audi S4. For comparison, the Audi Q7 on hand was about 59db and the Cadillac was 56db. 

My driving partner, Ironman triathlete Jeremy Hendricks and I both found the Mazda 5 to be well thought out and comfortable. In most categories the Mazda was unceremoniously capable. From ease of loading to seat comfort and control placement, it checked all the right boxes. The 5’s proficient yet unremarkable personality won its class with a rational-minded score, yet neither of us could envision owning one. Personally, the “Zoom Zoom” whisper on the TV comercials has lost my vote for any of their products. How’s that for pretzel logic?

Audi had their Q7 and A7 make the final cut. I was surprised how the Q7 felt much lighter and managable than its size and weight might indicate. Probably the most refined of the bunch, the A7 seemed slightly out of place among the scrappy Kias, Nissans and VWs. It wasn’t for me to drive as its popularity with the testers kept it too busy all day. Shame, it probably would have spoiled me for the rest.

Out on Local Motors’ off-road test track, the Land Rovers and Jeeps were trundling over basketball-sized rocks at a moderately slow pace—both showing strong trail manners. Until I lived in New England I had no clue about how this sort of thing could ever be important. 

Then, to put things into perspective, Local Motors rolled out their Rally Fighter (road legal in 50 states) and hammered through the course at 40+ mph. The LM test driver got a little air and tested the 20 inch suspension travel with photo-spy Brenda Priddy aboard. Go Brenda!

Next year, I’m driving that.

Without sounding like a kiss-ass, I’d have to say that there wasn’t a bad vehicle in the bunch. Just to make it into the finals, a car has to be of a significantly high quality—which made our evaluations difficult. There were some surprises, and the Jeep over Land Rover turnabout demands a rematch. Believe me, the manufacturers are already hard at work stepping it up.

After a day of driving dozens of vehicles and hanging out with great, enthusiastic people it was time to go back to the hotel and chill before dinner. That evening’s fare was the fourth mexican meal I’d had in two days, but the stories and comraderie were the best part. I wasn’t surprised how many car people were also guitarists. I’m already looking ahead to next year. Now, if I can just score an Evoque for a long-term test.

 

RESULTS
The evaluations took into consideration overall design, engine power, fuel efficiency, and cargo capability. In the final tally, the athletes’ votes and those of the jury panel members each accounted for fifty percent. 

Following are the winners of the 2012 competition by category:

Urban: Mazda5
Best Value On-Road: Subaru Impreza
Best Value Off-Road: Jeep Wrangler
Luxury On-Road: Audi A7
Luxury Off-Road: Jeep Grand Cherokee 
Green ALV: Volkswagen Jetta Sportwagen TDI
Family: Audi Q7 TDI

 Many thanks to Automotive Spy Photographer extraordinaire Brenda Priddy for her generous help with the photos for this story.

Photos ©2011 Brenda Priddy and Company (except Cadillac stock photo and my crappy cell phone pics).

Correction: I previously wrote that Denise McCluggage had been the first woman to race for the Ferarri factory team, which is not true. Her association was with Chinetti's North American Racing Team-the US Ferarri Distributor.

Media Enjoys Dantzig Direction

A quick entry to thank all of you for your continued interest in my work. It has been satisfying to be able to create at my own chosen pace—following my muse. I’ve never been comfortable with large groups, so the interaction via email and through your comments on this blog has offered me a way to speak with each one of you as a friend.

The media has noticed this as well, and I’ve been approached with more opportunities than I can reasonably manage. For now, I’m keeping it as low key as I can and still put food on my table! I’m not after big-time production so it’s really about the quality of my interactions—not the quantity.

For those of you interested in more “news” type information about what’s going on here at the shop, I suggest that you sign up for the e-newsletter. 

Until next time.

Jol

 

Weather, Whether or Not

Just a few days of heavy rain clearly illustrated how our earth has been carved up over millions of years. The Workshop is located up a rural road on the side of a hill, and a lot of water flows down creeks and streams—right alongside the road to the shop. But just as quickly as the rains came, the sunshine broke through the clouds and everything started to look good again. Carla and I stopped on our way to take some photos in the morning mist.

Further up the way, the evidence remained. After three days of bad weather the road was collapsing at the edges, and rocks and stone were getting deposited along the way. It wasn’t impassable, but if it had continued much longer there wouldn’t be any work getting done in the shop now. As it was, the driveway will have to be filled and raked and the town will have some work to do along many of the smaller roads.

What this all brings to mind is that the climate not only messes with the outdoors, but it affects the health and well-being of guitars and other musical instruments. I work hard to maintain a relative huumidity of 35% in my shop. That’s the prescribed level that most knowledgeable luthiers will cite. It’s a good mid point, but more importantly it errs on the side of dryness. I have some acoustic instruments that bow and bulge a bit when things get too humid, but being built at 35% allows them to tolerate lower humidity days without splitting wide open. Bulging is manageable, imploding is definitely not. It’s a good idea to monitor your instruments at home too. I had decided to equip the case for the Crow with a nice German-made hygrometer to do just that.

 

I’d seen a few cases with some sort of humidity gauge placed inside where it couldn’t be seen until the case was opened. I thought that was a waste, especially if you have a lot of guitars in storage. So, I decided to put mine on the side of the case where it could be seen more easily. This entailed making the case shell with a mounting hole.

After the tweed was glued on and the interior plush installed, I carefully trimmed around the hole. The gauge back (where the sampling takes place) is inside the pocket, which will have screened openings into the main body of the case.

 

Here, I’m marking the outside before cutting the tweed. Too much time and effort has gone into this case so it was a matter of measure twice, cut once. The next step is to install a mesh back to keep small articles from getting into the meter, then fitting the gauge. I’m off to the supply store to find a fine metal mesh and some fill stone.

Edenbound

What a great way to begin the week in the Workshop. The air was cool and filled with the smells of early fall. The morning light streaming over the hills and through the trees made it a perfect time to go for a walk. I noticed that the first colored leaves were already on the ground.

As Heidi and I walked the road to the Workshop I thought of my time spent living in Northern California, where many mornings felt like this. Somehow my mind wandered to one of my favorite books, Steinbeck’s East of Eden. Maybe it’s the feeling of being alone in the middle of an expanse of nature, far from the city. Or perhaps it’s the grounding comfort of the dependable cycle of the seasons—immune to the petty travails of humankind.

Adam Trask walked alongside us silently, wiping his brow with a handkerchief and squinting as he looked into the distance. Off in the trees, among the dappling light I caught a glimpse of a guitar—and then it was gone. How can I capture all this in a build?

Mo’ Keb’ Mo’

Just a quick post about the Ke’ Mo’ PBS show last night. The seeds for this show were planted almost four years ago during one of  Keb’s visits to the Workshop. The two of us had lunch together with Jack Forchette who is Infinity Hall’s Director of Entertainment and Business Development. Infinity’s PBS TV show was just being planned, and it seemed like a three-time Grammy Award winner like Keb’ Mo’ would be an excellent fit for this intimate venue.

I arrived at Infinity Hall in Norfolk, Connecticut moments before the tour bus pulled up and Jack and I were able to welcome Keb’ and his band at the front door. To my delight, Keb’s manager John Boncimino was there as well. John and I go back to the old blues club days in Chicago, so it was great to catch up.  Keb’ was in good spirits and ready to get down to a long day and night of work, so inside we all went.

 
My first task was to take a look over “Big Red” which is one of Keb”s main guitars. Everything seemed fine so I hustled up to the mezzanine with Jack and John to watch some of the run through.

The shot below shows how cozy the hall is, and the Meyer Sound system makes every seat a perfect audio experience. I was happy to see Keb’ Mo’ Band regular Jeff Paris again, today he was playing guitar and mandolin. That’s him on the far left. Seated in the center was legendary producer Russ Titelman, who was working with Keb’.

After a long sound check we all got to hang out a bit and then have some dinner. The show went well with only one break for some difficulty when the jib/crane camera went down. It was replaced quickly and it was on with the show. The band went through old favorites like “Rita” and “Shave Yo’ Legs” as well as some material from the latest CD The Reflection to get it down on video.

Directly after the taping the TV crew shot some Q&A footage with show patrons and Keb’ for a while then we all disappeared downstairs to the dressing rooms. It was great to be among friends and to celebrate the occasion. Everyone seemed really happy with the show, and Titleman was delighted. With all the tension of the long day gone, Keb’ and I were able to have a little time to sit talk about some future projects. Around midnight it was time to go, with warm goodbyes all around before we headed our separate ways in the night.

 

Tweed Case Buildup and Keb’

There’s been a lot going on since my last post. Hurricane Irene gave us a good scare but fortunately we escaped with very little damage. Some of our neighbors weren’t so lucky. Most of the work here involved strapping stuff down—moving and waterproofing things. The ramp up and wind down were more stressful than the storm itself. A few downed tree limbs and a general mess outdoors was the extent of it as we dodged the bullet.

After months of back and forth with the manufacturer, the case husk for the Crow arrived. Despite my sending samples for the vintage antique tweed, the color and finsih were not to my liking. I had paid for an entire hide of smooth, dark brown leather for the trim to match the antique suitcase—fortunately that was perfect.

Because I’d already tested a lacquering process for the samples, I knew that I could get the tweed right. It was just a matter of taking the case apart and antiquing it. The next step was to mix up the lacquer tint.

 
The color I wanted simulated decades of darkening and discoloration from use. The recipie included yellow, red, brown and a hint of violet all mixed into a thin base of lacquer. The application would be done with a two inch brush in order for me to work it into the weave.

Even though the tint was strong, I wanted to use multiple coats in order to replicate the uneven weathering of the original. This gives it a more authentic look and feel.

I’ll get the last coat on this morning before I head down to Infinity Hall to meet up with my old friend Keb’ Mo’. He’s taping a PBS concert tonight, and I had a small part in hooking him up with the gig. We’re gonna be talking guitars and catching up. There are some new ideas on the boil—can’t wait to see what we come up with.