
I have very few heroes. A couple of months back I learned that a man whose guitar-making philosophy I revere had passed away. I’d never met him in person, only absorbed his ethos through articles and an interview, but his ideas profoundly shifted my perspective on the essence of craft and workmanship. When I had my storefront repair shop I had a framed picture of his hands at work holding a chisel on the wall above my bench.
Today I met one of his daughters, who brought some of his wood stockpile to sell, part of settling his estate, along with some of his tools. Most of the knives and saws and cool toys were already gone, but I found these. A little miter guide for cutting rosette tiles, and something really esoteric that few people outside the craft would recognize – a tiny scaffold with a violin peg running through it. It’s used with a length of fishing line to winch tight cleats inside a guitar body from the outside to reinforce cracks in inaccessible places. Old school repair technology.
Care was taken in making them, I can see the rapid but sure way he eased the sharp corners. The screws that hold the box together are very old. There are scars from chisel chopping. Traces of use. Vestiges of work. I paid her $10 for things I can make myself, but these have a deep and indefineable meaning.