The Guitar Designer's Workshop

Americanarama

Blues, jazz and rock 'n' roll is as American as the wild west cowboy. In fact, I see it all as a single continuum. Roots music, which has its origins in a buffet of American influences is never more than a few steps away from the Cowboy song. 

 
In a similar fashion, my concept for the Hell's Half Acre guitar isn't overtly kitch. Rather than a literal interpretation, using only blatant western cues, I wanted to hint at the idea in a cool way.

The trail driver's whip and lasso were as crucial as his pistol and rifle—maybe even more important. The twisted form of the rope and the braid of the whip reminded me of a half-herringbone purfling that I had lying around. Made of small parallelograms  of alternating maple and ebony, I thought it would look good against a dark chestnut or black figured maple. I made up a test block of maple on mahogany and sandwiched the "rope" between the maple and a strip of ivoroid cellulose.

The next step was to apply a dark brown stain. To avoid deep penetration on the purfling, it has been lacquered lightly.

After the stain has set, I used a small sharp to scrape the binding and purfling clean. Using my index finger as a guide I can vary the width of the scraped area by rotating the blade, being careful not to cut too deep.

Here's what it looks like cleaned up. I think it evokes the idea without being too over the top. There'll be plenty of other chances to do that on this build.

History of Hell: Cowboy Guitar

One of my biggest beefs with the corporate structure is its tendency to discount the creative process. It's impossible to say why or when inspiration will strike—and it can't be switched on like a spreadsheet on a computer. I try to be open to the things around me, but I rarely can predict when I'll be inspired to act.

An idea for a guitar came to me while reading books about the great cattle drives and the cowboys of the frontier.  I'd heard the term "Hell's Half Acre" since I was a kid—there's even a Robbie Robertson song by that name. Instinctively I knew it referred to a patch of town where society's rules did not apply for those who chose to live life on their own terms. I envisioned a guitar that evoked the spirit of the era when cowboys were just working men, and the pistol was law.

After the Texas revolution in 1835, Fort Worth was a single dusty street lined by a few dozen wooden shacks and a couple saloons. Named for a small military outpost, Fort Worth stood along the Chisholm Trail at the edge of the Indian Territories. Like frontier towns from Deadwood to Denver, Fort Worth was barely a watering hole on the plains of Texas. There was no hotel, no church, no town hall. There was no real plan to build the town or any kind of community. 

 

Then in 1866, the cattle drives came. Cattle had become the most lucrative business on the frontier. From 1866 to 1884 more than three million beeves were driven up the Chisholm Trail from King Ranch and San Antonio to railheads in Kansas; passing through Fort Worth along the way. Cowboys drove their herds up the main street and made camp to the north of town just past the Trinity River. Once settled in, the trail drivers rode back into Fort Worth for a bath, haircut and some entertainment. Industrious businessmen were only too happy to oblige, and Fort Worth began to expand and grow. By 1871 a section of the main street at the south end of town was lined with saloons offering all the vices that cowboys could ever want. The gambling, drinking and prostitution became so legendary that the district was referred to as "Hells Half Acre."

The whiskey flowed and the blood spilled as the cowboys indulged themselves like sailors on shore leave. The number of shootings and deaths was a result of lack of law enforcement combined with a town government that was more interested in commerce than any kind of morality. Indeed, a sheriff would be hard pressed to attempt any kind of intervention, and those who were arrested usually were released with not much more than a stern warning.

Even after the decline of the trail drives in the late part of the century, the businesses of Rusk Street (as it had been named) continued on, albeit at a slower pace. Declining into a black ghetto by the middle of the 20th century, Hells' Half Acre was finally razed wholesale for the construction of the Tarrant County Convention Center. Ironically, the street is now renamed Commerce Street. 

It's a great piece of American history and I've got some ideas prompted by a conversation with a collector of my work. My recent meeting with some extremely gifted gun engravers has inspired me as well, so today I'm into the shop for some experimentation. I'm glad we had this meeting.

 

 

Cherry Nitro on Sakura Guitar

Yesterday was a beautiful New England spring day—blustery and crisp. I took the time to walk around the property and allow myself to be open to all that was around me. 

 

Earlier in the day I'd spoken to my friend Tony who was in New York wrapping up a week of filming. Tony is an amazing, creative cinematographer, and it was great just to catch up and just jam on some ideas. One of Tony's favorites is photographer William Eggleston, whose work reminds us that there are no ordinary moments.

We continually and systematically narrow focus until we run the risk of becoming insensitive to the wonder of everyday life. So, in that spirit, I went out into the woods to undo my focus. It wasn't long before nature was speaking to me and I envisioned a new project. More on that in a while.

 Back in the shop I went about the job of masking off the Sakura's fingerboard edges and headstock faceplate. Those would be the only areas not painted red. The lacquer was already mixed and in the cup so it was just a matter of wiping the guitar down with cleaning solvent and tack rag before having a go.

I had the choice of laying on multiple coats to darken the color, but I chose to stop when I had a nice even coverage. The guitar had the pale hue of those time-faded SGs and Juniors that I love so much—fini.

The color is going to look great contrasting against the nickel colored plates—I love how the grain of the mahogany shows through. My feeling is that a low-gloss topcoat treatment will really highlight the metalwork rather than compete with it.

Next week I'll start building up the nitro clear coats after the color has a chance to cure. Have a great weekend everybody, and take some time to enjoy the moment.

Esoterica Electrica \ Cutting Through The Mix: Duane and Sandy

Here's a little ditty about Duane and Sandy—two American kids doin' the best they can.

via Premier Guitar

A lot of us have spent more time on the road than we'd care to remember. Some of the time it's fun, sometimes not. This is a story I wrote for Premier Guitar for all the people whose life revolves around family, friends and music. It's been a long strange trip—hope you enjoy it.

Mixing Cherry Lacquer

One of the most popular colors for guitars is red, and it's fitting that our cherry blossom guitar will be just that. There's something electrifying about a bright red instrument—guitar or otherwise. The Sakura is ready to be colored, so it's time to mix up the color. I'll use a coat of red transparent lacquer (referred to as a shader) which I mix using a concentrated tint. The first step is to measure out enough natural (clear) nitrocellulose lacquer into a cup.

Nitrocellulose lacquer is a quick-drying, solvent based coating that was developed in the early part of the twentieth century. Basically made from cotton cellulose, chemical solvents and various additives, it differs from the ancient Chinese and Japanese lacquers in both substance and in the technique used to apply it. Known as a thermoplastic, it reacts to heat, cold and solvents. Nitro bonds to previous applications by melting the surface of previous coats. As the solvent escapes over time, the hard cellulose material is left behind as a coating. Nitro is revered for its luxurious look and feel, and has been associated with the finest guitars of the last century. Nitro can be buffed to a gloss, but it never looks plastic or overly glossy, which gives a guitar an elegant sheen and depth.

The tint that I use is made from a powder mixed with solvent. This creates a super-concentrated dye called a toner. Just a few drops of this stuff is all that is needed—you can see how dark the color is in the squeeze bottle.

Now I use a squeegee  to "draw down" a streak of the color on a test piece of mahogany. The first test was just the cherry red color. I added some amber and blue to the mix and drew those down too in order to get the exact color I wanted.

 

 Nitro lacquer is slightly yellow, and as it ages it yellows even more. This is what gives vintage instruments their glow, but it also means that the color I mix will not be the final shade. Keeping this in mind, I stop short with the yellow. When the color is exactly what I want, the mix is complete.

Now the shader is ready to be applied over the base coats already on the guitar. Although there is a definite place for staining or painting directly on the wood, sometimes I like to "float" the color. Layering the color between sets of top and base coats is my secret to adding depth to a finish. Here, I'm pouring the color into the spray gun cup, it's showtime!

Finalizing Sakura Guitar Engraving Drawing

While The Crow guitar is drying there are plenty of other projects to do. The Sakura guitar has been sprayed with its base coats and is waiting for color, so I decided to get myself in gear and finish up the drawings for the engravers. 

This is the detail for the back of the guitar showing the hard detail around the edge as well as the full tree in the center area. The entire plate will be nickel plated with the flower petals spot plated with rose gold. At the top of the drawing the sun is peeking through the clouds—representing a new day dawning. My plan is to plate the sun with 24 carat gold. 

This is a study that I've done using my drawings. The cherry red color on the mahogany will look great against the nickel-plated parts. I can't wait to get the engraving going.

The entire theme of Japan and renewal is most poignant in light of the horrible disaster there. I've decided to donate the entire proceeds from the sale of The Sakura to relief efforts in Japan. I just need to determine the most appropriate charity to work with—I'll be writing more about this in the weeks ahead.

Tweedy Guitar Case for The Crow

For readers of this blog, the idea that The Crow would travel in a tweed suitcase inspired case will come as no surprise. Although tweed-covered cases are a vintage stalwart, the connection here is double deep. I first made the association while reading Kerouac's On The Road. Carla and I were on a road trip of our own when she photographed me holding my 1940s vintage suitcase. I'd found this beautiful relic in a shop in New Hampshire and just had to have it. It wasn't until I saw the photo below that I fully connected the dots.

Crows are scavengers, messengers and harbingers. Like Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty, crows traverse the landscape living on their instincts. The hoboes take to the rails as the crows take to the sky—searching for tomorrow's answer and a meal. When I saw the photo of the suitcase, I knew that my guitar had to have a case that incorporated this spirit.

  

My search for the correct vintage tweed covering came up short. After being assured by phone that the material was an exact duplicate of the lacquered tweed that was used on both vintage luggage and guitar cases (not to mention amplifiers) my material arrived looking pale, sallow and somewhat less than authentic. The only thing to do was to lacquer and age it myself. I cut a few pieces into sample swatches and started mixing up some amber and brown tinted nitro lacquer.

I started the process slowly, wanting to use as little tint as I could. It took about a half day to get it exactly the way I wanted it—the balance between the number of coats and the yellow to brown ratio. I was almost there, using the actual suitcase as my guide. Finally, a little bit of indigo tint got it just right. That's the final swatch on the bottom left. Now it's a matter of spraying out all the material after it is cut to fit the case. The lacquer color and sheen will make it look like it's already lived a lifetime of adventure on the road. When it's done maybe I'll drag it up to the old farm for a portrait.