What are tuning machines? Which tuners should I buy for my classical guitar?

Even the very finest guitar wouldn’t be of much use if it couldn’t stay in tune. With tuning machines, aka tuners, or ‘machine heads’, we bring the strings of a guitar up to pitch. Ideally, those strings will stay precisely in pitch, at least once the strings have settled in. 

Sometimes when ordering a guitar you can choose which tuning machines you would like. Other times you might need to replace faulty tuners or you might want to equip your favourite guitar with the absolute best tuners money can buy. There is actually a lot of choice when it comes to tuning machines, and prices range from about £30 - £1000. 

Many of the cheaper tuners do work, so it might be difficult for guitarists to comprehend just what the difference is between the cheaper and more expensive tuners, and all the rest in between. There are quite a few different brands, with a range of prices. I’ll try to outline what’s out there in this blog post.

A trip to a master engineer in Leicester

I think fondly back to when I was a very keen teenager who wanted to make guitars; I was absolutely intent on making the whole guitar, including the guitar tuners. I was fascinated by how one would make the screw/gear/turning mechanism. I had in fact struck up an email correspondence with tuning machine maker Rob Rodgers. I don’t know if I knew it at the time, but Rodgers tuners are considered amongst the very best. At some point when I was about 15, Rob invited me to the original Rodgers workshop in Leicester, to meet his father, Dave Rodgers, where David was still making the finest tuning machines. Rob himself had expanded the business, and moved away, making tuning machines on a larger scale all the way in Canada.

This was perhaps the first of many guitar trips I have made in my life, and I think I must have found it thrilling navigating the train and the bus, from my home town of Bedford, all the way to a suburb in Leicester. I think Google maps was perhaps not so advanced as it is now, and I probably had to do some thinking for myself in order to get there. I remember the greenness of the suburb and the blue sky. I was surprised when I arrived, that my destination seemed to be a perfectly ordinary house, and not a ‘workshop’. Though I now know that many lone craftsmen, especially guitar makers, set up their workshops in their homes; it can be an ideal situation.

I don’t remember the exact details of arriving; rather just the greenness and blueness of the suburb, my first glimpse of the house…and then I’m in the workshop, and David is showing a model he made of a guitar headstock, which he used to test out his special model of Lacote tuners, often, he says, made for a luthier called Gary Southwell. He explains how he had initially worked as an engineer, and that when one day a guitar friend had asked if Dave might be able to make him some guitar tuning machines, Dave had replied that he probably could. And when those were done, and his friend delighted with their quality, David had redirected his engineering skills towards a new venture, Rodgers Tuning Machines, tuning machines now esteemed for their quality around the world. 

Leicester Cathedral, England

David showed me two impressive lathes (metalwork lathes are impressive machines, used for machining metal) explaining that one was now CNC operated, but that originally he had built tuning machines operating the lathes only by hand. I solemnly looked at the lathes, knowing that if I were to one day build tuning machines, these would be the tools of my trade too (I never did build tuning machines in the end). He showed me tuners that had been engraved by hand, explaining that they sent off their tuners to a hand engraver in Italy. We had lunch along with his wife, who then gave me a lift back to Leicester station. 

That was my first time meeting a real craftsperson. The best tuning machines really can be a work of fine craftsmanship.

What’s the difference between all the tuning machines? 

Often the cheaper tuning machines work. Most of the tunings machines between £30 - £100 that I’ve tried haven’t had any problems. It’s certainly advisable to avoid the really cheap tuners under £30 which may have issues with their function. 

As you get into the higher quality tuners, the turning action when you tune the guitar to pitch will be smoother and easier, and each small adjustment of the tuner with me more accurate.

Different tuners have different aesthetics. Often the cheaper tuners do look unfortunately cheap, and this can undermine the overall aesthetic impact of a guitar. Some of the better tuners come with their own aesthetic style. Gilbert tuners, which look rather stark, in a nice way. On older high quality guitars, often Fustero tuners are found, which have an appealing aesthetic, full of character. As I mentioned, the old Rodgers tuners were sent off to be hand engraved. 

In terms of function, the more you pay, you are possibly paying for smaller and smaller increases in the quality of the function of the tuners. On the other hand, high quality tuners such as Rodgers do hold their value and also increase the value of whatever guitar they’re on, at least they give their guitar extra kudos. 

It is a shame to adorn a high quality guitar with cheap tuners. I will go through a range of options that are out there today, and how much you might expect to pay.

The range of guitar tuners:

In the range of rather cheap tuners that work, Van Gent and Der Jung tuners are available, although I have received one faulty Van Gent.

Rubner, Gotoh and Schaller all seem to build tuners of a similar quality and price, from £50 to £300.

Entering the upper, more boutique range of tuners, as mentioned Gilbert tuners stand out to me for their stark aesthetic, and Gilbert reputation for precision. £300

There are tuners designed by Irving Sloane; I have an affinity towards Sloane as the first book I read on guitar making was written by him. £300

There are Alessi tuners in Italy. I was surprised to see that they are hand engraved in Italy; I thought the era of the hand engraver was gone, and the age of CNC had arrived. I like the Alessi slogan, ‘tuning machines are more than just accessories to the instrument’. £600

Another high quality tuning machine maker is Scheller. I have always found the name confusing; it sounds just like ‘Schaller’ who make cheaper tuning machines. Scheller tuners are however built to the highest quality, similar to Rodgers and Alessi. I like that they too are hand engraved and that Scheller appear to be quite innovative; some of their tuners have a unique character and style. £900

Finally there are Rodgers tuners who I have already mentioned. £900

Things to check before buying a guitar tuner:

Check the dimensions of your guitar headstock and make sure the tuning machines won’t be too wide or long for your guitar.

The rollers on a tuning machine, around which the strings are tightened, are always set at 35mm apart. That means that the rollers will fit onto the headstock of every classical guitar, unless your particular guitar was built differently for some reason. 

On the other hand, if you are replacing the tuners on a guitar, you need to know that the screw holes on tuning machines are generally in different places. That means you might need to take the guitar to a experienced, well trusted luthier, to fill the old screw holes.

What are the best hard cases for the classical guitar?

Have you ever been caught in the rain with your guitar, hoping that, being in its hard case, the guitar should be perfectly fine - only to discover a wet guitar upon opening the case?! Have you ever been caught in the snow? Have you flown with your guitar? Or travelled to a hot or cold country? If you have done any of these things, then you have learnt the hard way, the sheer importance of a good quality hard case for your classical guitar. 

The classical guitar is one of the most delicate musical instruments. Wood is already a material vulnerable to changes in temperature, humidity, moisture etc, and classical guitars are made out of the thinnest plates of wood, often thinner than 2mm. These thin plates of wood are in stasis, in a delicate equilibrium against the tension of the strings, so it’s worth protecting the guitar from the other outside tensions and forces, caused by changes in the environment around the guitar. A hard case is not only to protect your guitar from knocks and falls. In the best guitar cases, you can create the most stable of environments: the warm safe refuge that your classical guitar deserves.

After the expense of buying a classical guitar, perhaps the last thing a musician would want to do is to spend more money on a case. But in my experience, a good case is crucial to not only ensuring the longevity of your instrument - preventing cracks, damage or distortions/warping, but also keeping it sounding its best. Cracks, damage, warping etc; prevention is the best, cheapest and most satisfying cure. Even if the guitar mostly stays at home, on those occasions when the guitar does need to travel somewhere, you don’t want your hard case to let you down. I myself have travelled often with classical guitars, and I have had some quite hair-raising experiences. I would say it is important not only to have a hard case, but a really good one.

What does a good hard case actually do?

The most basic function of a classical guitar hard case is to protect the guitar from knocks and falls. Classical guitars are also vulnerable to changes in humidity and temperature, as well as drafts and direct sunlight. Guitars are particularly vulnerable to sudden environmental changes, and the best guitar cases slow down these changes dramatically, so the environment inside the case will change only gradually, no matter what’s going on outside the case.

A quality guitar case seals off your guitar from the outside world, allowing you to somewhat control the humidity inside the case. This can be done using D’addario humidity packs, or with other similar devices, which keep the humidity within the case at around 50% relative humidity.

For professional classical guitar players, who travel outside a lot, the good case will protect classical guitars from the elements. Professional players can travel to greatly varying environments, and a good case will ensure the guitar survives these changes. Quality classical guitars are expensive, and a good hard case protects the investment, and guards against the need to pay further for repairs or another new guitar.

A case within a case! For some cases, it’s possible to get an extra travelling cover; it resembles a gig bag that goes over the guitar case. It adds an extra layer of protection, particularly against weather such as rain, snow etc.

My Grandpa’s guitar, life without a guitar case:

My Granny and Grandpa’s house was the hub of our family when I was younger, with lots of Aunts, Uncles, and cousins visiting every Sunday. It was a warm place and at its heart was my Grandpa’s old Harald Petersen guitar. It is still a beautiful guitar, and I suppose it made some impression on me back then as I’m still into guitars today. As long as I’ve known it, it looked well aged; brown like an old cello; didn’t look out of place next to the grandfather clock; knocked, splashed, perhaps cracked by happy playing grandchildren. 

There were many cracks. It had been left out of a case its whole life, often next to the open door into the back garden. It is a guitar in which time and nature have been left to do their work. A beautiful thing, perhaps the very definition of the Japanese philosophy ‘wabi-sabi’. But with the use of a good hard case, controlling the environment within the case, you can essentially hold back time for your guitar, and keep it sounding and looking at its very best.

Times when I longed for a better hard case for my classical guitar:

Flying guitars. When travelling on planes with guitars, I buy an extra seat next to me for the guitar. (A guitar player should never check their valuable classical guitar into the hold and expect the case to adequately protect it, even an expensive case). I always bring my humidity reader too. You might be surprised to learn that the humidity drops dramatically in the cabin when flying, to as low as 10% relative humidity. It’s really alarming, but a good hard case, as well as a humidity control device such as Dadarrio’s two way humidity packs, would protect the guitar.

A guitar player should never check their valuable classical guitar into the hold of a plane and expect the case to adequately protect it, even an expensive case

Into the frying pan! I have been to Spain twice with my guitars in the middle of summer. Not only is a quality hard case necessary to protect your instrument from the dramatically low humidity, but also from the sheer heat, which can be damaging not only to the wood itself, but also the finish (especially French polish). At high temperatures such as in Spain in the summer, or in a car on a hot day, certain modern glues can soften, causing all kinds of problems, including shifting bridges or fingerboards. 

Battling Spanish heat. I recall arriving in Madrid with my guitar, feeling the sheer heat, and wondering if it would be safe to venture even 10 minutes down the road in search of a cash machine, while I was waiting for my next train. With a better case I may have felt more confident. I did meet another guitar maker travelling in Granada in Spain; she had completely wrapped her guitar case in some kind of foil insulating lining, deflecting the sun. It looked completely crazy, but I was extremely jealous, myself only emerging in the mornings and at night, and mostly sticking to the shadows, to protect my guitar. 

Slavic ice and blizzards: On the other scale I’ve travelled to Prague in the midst of winter with my guitar: ice everywhere, rain, snow and temperatures of -10. I combatted the challenge of the rain and snow by carefully lining the case opening with door insulation lining. Another challenge was presented by the low humidity in the hotels, caused by the central heating and lack of ventilation. This problem was solved by letting the shower run until the humidity reader showed an acceptable reading, and then leaving the guitar, in its case, in the bathroom. I did wish for a better case on that trip. 

English rain. It typically rains a lot in England. The last time I got caught in the rain was after a music festival in Leicester. It was raining heavily, so I ordered an uber to the train station. The brief walk from the uber to the train station in heavy rain was enough for water to enter the guitar case. If a case lets water in that easily, it probably also doesn’t do a good job at protecting the guitar from changing humidity or temperature either, so from that point onwards I did prioritise ‘the seal’ when evaluating hard cases.

My point is: don’t get caught in these situations without a hard case of decent quality.

What qualities are we seeking for in a classical guitar case?

• An airtight seal - A good airtight seal will allow you to effectively control the environment within the case, by using something like D’addario’s two way humidification packs.

• Lightness - Some cases are heavier than others. Travelling with a guitar or two can quickly become tiring, and the guitar/s can feel like a burden. If you’re carrying a guitar for an extended period of time, you do notice the difference between a 3kg case and a 4kg case.

• Good Looking - Having a pro looking guitar case is a great confidence boost.

• Durability - I’ve had issues with cases slightly warping, meaning that the seal no longer properly fit together, creating gaps that would allow in water and wouldn't protect the guitar from changes in the environment. 

• A good fit for your guitar - You shouldn’t have to force the guitar into the case. Nor should the guitar be bouncing around inside the case. You need to be careful when ordering a case online that you check the measurements of the case against the measurements for your guitar. Guitar dimensions, especially in handmade instruments, can vary a bit so it’s with finding the very best sized case for your particular instrument.

• Enough protection on the inside - A guitar case should have enough cushioning/padding to protect the guitar against any knocks.

• Impact resistance - If you drop a guitar in its case, you don’t want the impact to be passed to the guitar. Some materials are better at this than others.

What are our options?

£100-£500

Hiscox Pro ii classical cases - Here in England, the first hard case to consider is the Hiscox Pro ii, which conveniently come in a variety of sizes too. I think they would be fantastic, my only complaint is I don’t think they have a good seal, which is important if you want to travel with your guitar.

Rokkoman - Rokkoman provides a super light foam case, suitable for some purposes, possibly useful to have alongside a proper hard case. I would personally prefer a full hard case.

Gator - Gator offers traditional wooden cases as well as cases in a similar style to Hiscox. With traditional wooden cases, often the seal is inadequate, making them not great for travelling around outside.

£500 - £1000

Visesnut - Visesnut is a relatively new brand and hugely popular, making light, waterproof carbon cases. Curiously enough, I met the founder, Visesnut, at a classical guitar making competition in Spain, where he came in 2nd or 3rd place. So he’s a talented person.

Bam - Bam cases look like a good alternative to Visesnut

Crossrock - Crossrock offers a carbon case, in a similar style to the more expensive cases in this list. 

£1000+

This range of cases would appeal to the musician who travels a lot with their guitar, not just by plane but I mean out and about in general. Brands include Accord, Pegasus, CC Cases, Calton Cases.

In Conclusion:

I often travel with guitars I’ve built, so that's a very precious cargo. I partly wrote this article for myself, to see which case would be best for me, and which cases I would be happy to provide to my customers along with the guitars. Looking into the qualities of the different cases on the list, I like Visesnut and Bam cases best of all. If I had loads of money, I’d explore the more expensive cases as well. Given my knowledge of the construction of the guitar, my priorities are firstly an airtight seal and waterproofness, and after that I look at all the other things you would expect from a good guitar case. Bam’s ‘classic’ classical guitar case is cheaper than their lighter models. Because I’m not concerned with getting the very lightest case, the classic model would suit me fine.

How to choose a quality classical guitar, the best classical guitar you YOU

Once you’ve decided that you’d like to buy a new classical guitar - whether it’s for yourself, your child, whether you're guitar student, professional, or hobbyist - it’s easy to be overwhelmed by choice. There’s an enormous range of prices, the cheapest guitars available at barely over £100, and the most expensive instruments can be tens of thousands of pounds. After reading this blog post, it is my hope that readers will be better able to discern quality guitars from the rest, across the range of prices, both factory made and hand crafted. The price doesn’t necessarily indicate the quality of a guitar, so it’s best to be as discerning and informed as possible. 

The basics:

Does the guitar even work? A good quality guitar first has to meet some basic standards in order to even function as a musical instrument. Taking into consideration that any musical instrument is a complicated system with a thousand components, and that guitars are made out of thin delicate plates of wood - an unpredictable material at the best of times - it is perhaps understandable that there are guitars out there that don’t meet these basic standards. When buying a guitar, It’s important to be mindful that there are guitars with these issues out there at all price ranges.  

Checking the action at the 12th fret. This is a guitar with an elevated fingerboard.

The height of strings, and the saddle. The height of the strings on the classical guitar can’t be too easily adjusted, and only within a certain range. Sometimes a guitar can be constructed slightly inaccurately, meaning the strings are permanently too high, or too low, above the guitar’s fretboard. Too high means the guitar will be hard to play, too low and the strings will rattle against the frets. 

If it feels like the strings are too high or low on a guitar, look to the guitar’s bridge, and the saddle - the bone protruding from the bridge. It should be possible to adjust the saddle - or rather, get it adjusted by a professional - so that the string height measured between the 12th fret and the bottom of the string is: 3.8mm for the low e string and 2.8 for the high e string, ideally with room for adjustment a bit lower. If it’s impossible to get within this range, then the guitar has some construction issues; there was likely some constructional oversight during the building of that guitar.

It’s worth mentioning that to guitarists starting to play classical guitar, who have previously played acoustic or electric, classical guitar action (string height) is much higher, and will initially feel uncomfortable. Before thinking that something is wrong with the instrument, check the action at the 12th fret with an accurate gauge or ruler; you want almost 4mm for the low e string, and almost 3 for the high e string.

Is that falling apart?! It may be surprising to hear that cracking, collapsing and even exploding can occur in classical guitars all across the price spectrum. Cracking in a relatively new guitar may occur due to green wood being used, or improper humidity control, in the building process; or, due to very bad luck. Regarding collapsing, the soundboards of most guitars will display some dishing in front of the bridge and bulging behind it; this is due to the tension of the strings pulling on the soundboard. But if this happens excessively, it could mean that the instrument is inadequately braced, indicating a short lifespan for that instrument. 

It may sound obvious that of course guitars shouldn’t collapse or explode, and why would they anyway? I think this particular problem would be more likely to occur on a handmade instrument, as luthiers tend to build their guitars much lighter than factory guitars, in search of a better tone. So it’s worth being mindful of any potential construction issues when evaluating both cheaper factory guitars, and more expensive handmade guitars too.

The other basic issues. It is worth sighting down the neck/fretboard to see whether it’s straight enough. Some guitars will have some relief - a slight bow - but this shouldn’t be excessive. Classical guitars don’t have truss rods, so relief isn’t something that can be easily adjusted. 

Check the amount of bone protruding from the bridge. Ideally, the guitar should be set at a comfortable action, and have enough saddle that you can adjust to a lower action if you wanted. As guitars age over many years their action tends to increase, so if there’s room for the saddle to be lowered, the guitar’s lifespan increases. Ideally there should be about 2.5-4mm of saddle. Too much saddle is also a problem; having more than 4mm not only looks strange, but it puts too much pressure on the front part of the bridge. 

The meat of the matter

Once it is clear a guitar has no issues and all the basics have been covered, a player can begin to evaluate the sound, the aesthetic beauty, as well as the small details which come down to each player’s preference.

A sound that resonates to the pitch of your very soul! A guitar is made of hundreds of different components working towards a single aim: the sound. I used to think that the sound of a guitar was something highly subjective - and yes, each guitar has its unique sound qualities, and it’s possible to love a guitar’s sound despite apparent flaws - but a modern classical guitar of quality will have important distinct features in its sound: Balance, Power, Projection, Tone, Volume, Trebuchet-Trebles, Musicality. 

Balanced as all things should be. A guitar with an even, balanced sound won’t have some notes that are suddenly louder than others, or have an enormous bass with weak trebles, or vice versa. On a balanced instrument you will feel in control, and won’t have to compensate for shortcomings in the sound. 

Let yourself be heard! I regard power and volume as the perception of power and volume from the point of view of the player. If you intend to play concerts and recitals, it is important to bring a second guitarist, so you can test power/volume of the guitar from the point of view of the listener/the audience; that is what is referred to as the projection of a guitar. I’ve heard what I’d thought were quiet guitars project absolutely beautifully, the sound somehow riding the airwaves directly to my ears. I have always made projection a primary concern when developing/improving my own guitars.

Musicality. Try to find a guitar that sings rather than shouts. 

Tone you can sink your teeth into! When I think of tone, I recall playing the bass guitar as a teenager. I had a particular bass, a Warwick Corvette, and the tone was so meaty and gritty you really could just sink your teeth into it! When a guitar has a good tone, it’s like the guitar is meeting you halfway, contributing to and elevating the music.

Trebuchet trebles. It can be difficult to find a guitar with really strong trebles, as the construction of the classical guitar gives the instrument a natural tendency towards the bass. The best trebles almost unexpectedly soar, leaving you in their dust! Release the trebuchet trebles and watch them land amongst the audience with devastating effect!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder:

To a non-guitarist, all guitars might look the same. But we know that within the limits of the classical guitar, guitars actually come in all shapes and sizes. Different woods are used; luthiers have their unique rosettes and headstock shapes; there are extra features which can affect the aesthetics of a guitar such as armrests and elevated fingerboards. 

One aesthetic feature that is completely measurable is the workmanship/craftsmanship. Some guitars display greater care, attention to detail and skill on the part of the guitar maker or factory. If there are clear woodworking mistakes, this might indicate an inexperienced builder, or a factory with poor quality control.

The beauty of the rosette. One of my favourite parts of the classical guitar is the rosette. As a teenager I idealised the rosettes of Paul Fischer and David Rubio. Today I also like Philip Woodfield rosettes, and really any from which you can clearly recognise the maker. It’s the most artistic, decorative part of a guitar. Very intricately made, a rosette is often made up of thousands of individual pieces of wood. The best designs are not gaudy or showy, but not overly simplistic either; just tasteful.

The craft of the artisan. A beautiful thing about hand crafted instruments is that the makers have their individual manners of working and often this is evident in the final guitar. I once examined a special guitar, built over 100 years ago by a maker called Vincente Arias. His particular style - the way he crafted his heels, headstocks, bridges, rosettes etc - bursts with personality, even after 100 years. He built in a very free manner, using only hand tools and without moulds. I feel the workmanship of factories and some modern guitars in general, just don’t have the same soul. 

Finding the right guitar for YOU:

It is a very personal thing, whether a guitar is for you or not. Small changes in dimension (mere millimetres), differences in finish, sound, neck shape, size, feel etc. can mean the difference between the perfect guitar for you (the one!), and all the other guitars out there. 

Neck shape is one of these personal preferences. The typical traditional classical guitar neck usually has a D shaped neck, meaning the back of the neck is quite flat. It’s also not too thin because traditionally, in the past, classical guitars have been made without truss rods or reinforcement, and therefore couldn’t be made too thin. However, there are a great variety of neck shapes these days; more rounded neck shapes; necks that taper, getting thicker towards the body of the guitar; thin necks, reinforced with a carbon rod. Finding the right neck shape isn’t just personal preference, sometimes it’s about physical health, as the wrong neck shape for you could aggravate problems such as arthritis, tendonitis and other such problems. 

Are you very tall, or very small? You might consider a larger or small guitar; perhaps you have smaller hands, or you are particularly tall or short. Usually the body size and the scale length (string length) of the instrument changes; this decreases or increases the gap between the frets. The width of the fretboard, on the other hand, tends to stay the same. If you are interested in short scale guitars, I have written another blog post on the subject here: https://www.michaeledgeworthguitars.com/en/blog/what-are-short-scale-guitars-and-who-are-they-for-what-size-guitar-should-i-buy-for-my-child.

Shine, guitar, shine. Guitars come in a variety of finishes, lacquer, French polish, oil, varnish. No finish is perfect and each has different advantages and disadvantages. Oil, for example, is a delightfully tactile finish, and low maintenance too, however it doesn’t offer the glossy beauty of lacquer and French polish. French polish is the thinnest finish, arguably best for the sound and most beautiful, but it’s not the most hardwearing and can be a source of worry to maintain. Lacquer can be really beautiful too when well done; it risks not being as thin as French polish and can be more difficult to repair. Your can find more information on the different classical guitar finishes here: https://www.michaeledgeworthguitars.com/en/blog/the-different-types-of-guitar-finishes-and-how-to-care-for-them

Augment your weapon! The guitar wouldn’t be much use without some quality tuning machine and a good hard case. It is worth exploring the range of both tuning machines and hard cases, the prices of which range from £100 - £1000. 

With the classical guitar being composed of so many different factors, it comes as no surprise at all that it is so difficult to find the perfect guitar. Not only that, but as we grow and change as musicians, and as guitars develop with the course of time, our idea of the ideal guitar shifts. I hope the information above has helped you first discern a guitar of quality from the rest, and then find the right quality guitar for you in particular.

A case study: brushing lacquer with Rustins RPC

Rustins Plastic Coating is a British made two part lacquer, which apart from being used for general furniture, has also long been tied to guitar making in the UK. 

I first came across mention of RPC when I was a young teenager reading my first book on guitar making, Melvin Hiscock’s ‘Make Your Own Electric Guitar’. It has also become famous for being the finish used on Brian May’s guitar. When I was 16 or so I attended a lecture by the luthier Paul Fischer, who outlined a method for using RPC for the backs and sides of classical guitars. Since then I have also encountered other guitar makers who have used the finish. Despite its off-putting name, luthiers and craftspeople have been naturally drawn to the finish as it has several favourable qualities, such as: offering a flat, truly mirror like finish; it’s hard wearing; and unlike most lacquers, it can be applied by brush, meaning a truly professional finish can be obtained with minimal equipment and without a spray booth. 

However, the general consensus is that it’s quite a finicky finish to use. I’m certain this is due to the instructions that come with RPC, which are not really aimed at the user is aiming for a high gloss mirror finish, such as on a guitar. For example, the instructions imply that all the coats could be applied in one day, though doing so would in our case would lead to a disastrous finish. Another difficult thing is filling the grain; the instructions say to use Rustins grain filler, which however only comes in light colours, leaving luthiers with the problem of how to fill rosewood and other dark coloured woods.

Since attending Paul’s lecture as a teenager, I’ve steadily been refining my technique with this finish, and have developed a reliable method to get excellent results every time. Many of the skills required are transferable to and from other finishes; for example, perfect wood preparation, and filling the grain. And the overall ethos is the same as with other finishes; the goal is a thin, level, glossy, flawless finish. 

I’ve decided to write about my method here. I’ll go through some of the potential pitfalls too, and how they can be overcome. It also should be noted that I polish and buff my guitars with the body, neck and bridge still separate, avoiding the need to polish into any corners. I would also only use RPC for the back and sides of a classical guitar, as I think French polish is more suitable for the soundboard, and I don’t like lacquered necks from a tactile point of view.

One thing I have learned is that finishing is entirely its own skill, a difficult skill at that which takes many years to develop. I find the term ‘finishing’ to be slightly misleading, because when you start ‘to finish’, it is truly only the beginning.

Wood preparation:

As with any finish - lacquer, French polish, oil etc - wood preparation has to be perfect. 

Before final sanding, all holes/gaps must be filled - for example, at the end of the frets, or between the sides and the binding - with a mixture of CA glue and wood dust. Before doing so, on some woods it’s advisable to first wipe the area with thinned sanding sealer, to stop any glue leaving a deep stain in the wood. Any dents can be steamed out at this stage.

After all gaps are filled, I sand everywhere up to 180 grit, in preparation to fill the grain. In guitar making, I never use grits lower than 120. On spruce and cedar I start at 180 grit. I sand methodically and thoroughly with the grain, aiming for a flat surface and removing previous grits’ marks, using a sanding block or rectangular pencil eraser as backing. 

I am careful regarding the brand of sandpaper I use. For a time I used Hermes silicon carbide paper from Axminster, but found it would deposit small particles into the wood, visible in the final finish upon close inspection. I like to wear a dust mask and sometimes goggles when performing a long sanding task like this.

The problem of filling the grain:

The consequences of filling the grain poorly or with an incompatible filler can be rather disheartening; potentially resulting in orange peel/fisheyes after applying several coats in the case of complete incompatibility; alternatively, you may complete the finishing process, only for the finish to sink into the grain several months later. 

Rustins suggest using Rustins grain filler. As I mentioned, the problem here is that Rustins grain filler only comes in limited colours, natural, teak and mahogany. It is suggested in the instructions that you can dye the natural-coloured grain filler with Rustins oil based dyes. This suggested method doesn’t really work, it also thins the grain filler so it’s ineffective. 

In 2020 I built a steel string guitar for a friend, and was delighted with the guitar overall, including the finish. However, upon seeing the guitar only a couple of months later, I was surprised to find the finish had sunk quite dramatically into the grain. Even though my friend didn’t see what the big deal was, I asked if I could take the guitar back to refinish it. It was then that I decided I would resolve the grain filling problem once and for all.

The solution of filling the grain:

After some experimentation, I found that it is indeed best to use Rustins grain filler, but you need to dye it yourself, and not using Rustins oil based dyes. 

Instead, I use Dartford’s metal complex wood dyes. This dye comes in the form of a powder, and is available in all the colours you could wish for. I chose the metal complex dye over others in the Dartford range because it has a high degree of lightfastness, meaning it won’t change colour at all with age. 

To dye the grain filler, first put the required amount of grain filler in a container to one side. In a separate container, mix a small amount of your chosen Dartford’s dye with enough alcohol to completely dissolve the powder. You have to wait about 30 minutes to be certain it’s completely dissolved. Then mix with the grain filler. If the dye isn’t completely dissolved, individual particles of dye can ‘bloom’ once finish is applied. 

Before applying the grain filler to the wood, I apply an extremely thinned sanding sealer to the wood. This not only stopped the surface of the wood from getting dyed, but also highlights any scratches or botches of glue I missed during the wood preparation process. 

I apply the grain filler with a cloth, and with a couple of minutes I wipe off the excess. I like to apply the grain filler at a fairly thick consistency - I don’t thin it much with white spirit for example - as I find the thicker consistency fills the grain better. It’s important to be thorough, bearing in mind that a flat surface is key to a good finish, and that any dips/unfilled pores will cause problems later on.

After a couple of hours of drying I sand away the excess grain filler and the layer of thinned sanding sealer. This is the final sand and it needs to be thorough and methodical. The grain filler clogs the sandpaper; I like to get rid of most of the excess grain filler with 120/180 grit. I then remove the 120 grit scratches with 180 grit before finally moving to 240. It’s important not to sand too much, or you’ll expose new unfilled pores. I sand to higher grits on end grain areas such as the heel or top of the headstock. When sanded to 240 grit it’s reading for finishing.

Before commencing finishing, the grain filler will need to dry at least 12 hours, but the longer the better. It’s important to remember that RPC isn’t a forgiving finish, and any flaws will be magnified. So it’s important to be thorough with the grain filling/final sanding. 

Brushing the lacquer:

I’ll describe my process for brushing lacquer below. I brush the back and sides while the soundboard is still unpolished, and the neck and bridge are still unattached. 

It’s important to try to control as many variables as you can when finishing:

• I buy a new set of brushes each time, 1”, 2” and 3”. I wash them, let them completely dry and check them for any loose hairs. I used to get fancy brushes, made with faux or real squirrel/wild boar hair. However, I found they deposited hairs sometimes during the process, and have now found a far cheaper brush set which works just as well, without losing hairs. 

• It’s a good idea to mix only the required of RPC each day.

• I keep the windows open. It’s good to have ventilation for your own health, and for the finish to offgas effectively. It’s also important to wear a mask.

• The temperature should be above 17 degrees. When it’s colder it doesn’t dry as quickly. The humidity should be below 60% rh. 

I used to use a wide 3” brush, but now I prefer 2”, at least on the sides, as I find it’s easier to brush-out the lacquer and get a flat finish. 

On brushing technique, I would say:

• Keep in mind that the goal is a flat, even, thin surface.

• Don’t overload the brush with lacquer, or you can get ‘runs’.

• Don’t work too slowly; keep the brush wet, or it will start to ‘drag’

• For every coat, brush in a different direction; with the grain, diagonally across the grain, across the grain etc. This stops lacquer from building up more where brush strokes consistently overlap, and ensures even coverage. The end result is a flatter surface.

• The flatter and more even surface you get, the easier the following stages of the finishing process will be. 

A first precautionary coat may be applied with thinned down RPC (thinned with Rustins RPC thinners). This coat allows you to see if there are any flaws in the wood preparation, and if so, it’s possible to spot-repair them when this coat is dry enough. I sometimes skip this step, if I’m confident in my surface preparation. Once the finishing process is properly underway, it’s not possible to go back and repair a mistake in the wood, without starting the finishing process over.

Timing is very important with RPC. My usual schedule is to put on one coat in the morning and one coat in the evening. With the exception of the first day where I find three coats is possible. On the first day leave at least 3 hours between the coats. 

If you don’t follow these timings, it can cause problems with the finish. If you apply too many coats too quickly, gas from the lower coats can’t escape, causing problems in the surface, visible in the final product. Also, after 18 hours, the lacquer enters a ‘critical period’, where it won’t accept another coat without the surface ‘wrinkling’, and has to be left to harden for a few days before continuing. So it's best to set aside a few days and just follow the schedule. Part of RPC’s reputation for being finicky comes from the unpredictability of this critical period, but I’ve found following this routine gives me consistent results.

Between each coat, I ‘denib’ with 1200 grit sandpaper. I don’t actually sand properly, I just knock the shine off the surface, removing any lint and revealing any flaws in the finish so far. It also makes things easier when applying the next coat as things are more visible and the brush doesn’t grab so much.

In total I aim for 6 coats, so in just three days, the finish is on the guitar. 

Letting the finish harden:

With the finish applied, now the finish has to be left for at least 5 days to harden, in a room which is warm and has some airflow. I like to have my dehumidifier going and the window open. Once again, ignore the official instructions saying you can sand and buff after 24 hours.

It’s also perhaps advisable to let the finish harden longer. Firstly, the harder the finish is, the easier it will be to sand flat without problems. Also, the finish will continue to offgas and shrink for several weeks, so a better finish is obtained if you sand and buff it after the off-gassing/shrinking is complete. Another reason is that it can be a problem to deliver a still off-gassing product to a customer. For example, if they kept the still off-gassing guitar in its case, the finish wouldn’t be able to off-gas and would actually crack. So it’s safer to give the finish more time to harden rather than less. In the rush to get products/guitars out the door, it’s easy to fall into this trap. Far better to take the time and do it right.

Wet-sanding the hardened lacquer:

I soak some 1200 grit wet-and-dry sandpaper overnight in some water with a bit of washing up liquid. Then, with the sandpaper wrapped around the rectangular eraser, I set about levelling the finish. You know when the finish is flat when all the shiny spots have disappeared. My strategy is not to dwell too long in any one place. I try to sand until the finish is starting to look flat, but there’s still an even spread of shiny spots everywhere. Then I change to 1500 grit sandpaper and completely flatten the finish. Once an area is flat I don’t sand it anymore; if one is reckless here, it’s easy to sand through the finish. Any flaws in surface preparation also make sanding through more likely here. 

Any dips in the wood resulting from inadequate surface prep would have to be left at this stage, as trying to level the finish until they go away would result in sanding through the finish.

The wet sanding process is a task I imagine could be vastly sped up with the use of a random orbital sander or similar tool. However, at the time of writing I’ve only done it manually. That back is quite simple to level, the only challenge being perhaps any build up of lacquer along the edges. The sides are more finicky. 

Buffing the lacquer: 

I buff by hand using rags cut from a 100% wool shirt and some polishing compound. I do the bulk of the work with T-Cut polishing compound. It takes a lot of elbow grease, working small sections at a time, but I remove all the scratches left by the 1500 grit sandpaper and am finally left with a mirror finish. You have to work with fairly vigorous circular motions to get the mirror gloss; it’s certainly good exercise. It is difficult to be thorough and remove all the scratches but it is worth it.

I use one piece of cloth for applying the compound, and another for removing it. It’s worth laying down a piece of kitchen paper, on which to put the cloths when not in use; it would be frustrating if some small hard particle got on one of the cloths and scratches the finish your trying to buff. 

How to care for your high quality classical guitar

When you buy or commission a brand new guitar, or even buy a second hand guitar, it can be a daunting thing to actually play it for fear of scratching it, damaging it, knocking it over etc. A new guitar in particular is so shiny and flawless that every tiny scratch really stands out! And on the other hand, once we get used to a new guitar, it can be easy to go too far the other way and not take as much care of it as it needs.

Therefore, I have compiled some tips here to help players look after their quality musical instruments, and form good habits to ensure their instruments remain in the best shape. At the end of this article, I have compiled everything into a do and don’t list for guitarists which I hope will help. Of course, players needn’t become too neurotic in the care of their guitars, but the tips here should really help with the health and lifespan of an instrument.

Daily playing habits and guitar scratches

Different guitarists will have different attitudes and tolerances towards scratches on their guitar. Some consider their guitar to be a mere tool to be used hard in the service of music. Others are more careful.

What finish does my guitar have? It helps to be aware of what finish you have on your guitar, as some finishes are more delicate and may require greater care than others. French polish, for example, can begin to wear with constant skin-to-guitar contact and can even wear in reaction to sweat; it’s therefore advisable to have some cloth/clothing between yourself and the guitar. After playing, it’s always good practice to wipe down your guitar with an ever so slightly damp cloth, preventing any build up of grime and dust. This is a good habit, whatever the finish. 

Hands off that soundboard! While playing, if you want your guitar to play in the best shape, it would help if your right hand fingers don’t touch the soundboard. Some players rest their thumbs or pinky fingers on the soundboard, or their fingers scrape the soundboard in particular motions. Of course, over time the scratches build up. It is possible to adjust your playing so that your right hand doesn’t touch or create scratches on the soundboard. With classical guitars, there is a great demand for the thinnest possible finish. Be it lacquer, french polish, or varnish, on a high quality classical guitar, these various finishes will be applied as thinly as possible, so as to not impede the vibration of the soundboard. Spruce and cedar themselves - the woods used for classical guitar soundboards - are quite soft and easy to dent. Therefore, it’s always quite easy to scratch a classical guitar.

If the back and sides of your guitar are french polished, you should be wary of attaching any affixings or anything that uses suction cups, as these can easily mar the finish. This is especially true on a new guitar when the finish may still be quite fresh. Lacquer back and sides are more hard wearing, when it comes to affixing things to the guitar, with suction cups etc. 

Fear string dings no more! When changing strings it really is easy to scratch the soundboard or the head of the guitar. During string changes, most people use a piece of card pushed up against the underside of the bridge, so that the strings will scrape against the card instead of the soundboard. Another danger of changing strings on a classical guitar is “string-dings”. They are so common; people see them and often think “that looks bad but it will never happen to me”. It happens when a string, usually one of the treble strings, hasn’t been tied securely enough at the bridge; then, as the string is being tuned up to full tension, it suddenly comes undone, and it does so with enough force to gauge a small hole in the soundboard! That’s a string ding. It really does happen and only needs to happen once to leave a mark forever. I have found that carbon strings in particular have more of a tendency to slip like this. Therefore, when tying my strings I use a soundboard protector, which is a thin layer of plastic covering the soundboard; it stays on until all the strings are tuned up to tension.

https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/1545087219/soundboard-protector-protect-your

Some people use products such as kling-on guitar protectors; a thin plastic covering you leave on the soundboard as you play. However, it’s possible that some finishes react poorly to having such a covering left on for long periods of time. I think a better solution is to adjust one’s technique so as to not touch the soundboard when playing.

When scratches happen, what are our options?

Despite our best efforts and care, accidents will inevitably happen and guitars will pick up scratches and dings over time. This is particularly true for classical guitars because we prefer the thinnest finish possible, and the woods we use - spruce and especially cedar - are soft and easy to scratch/dent. What to do about scratches depends on the finish. All options would involve either taking the guitar to a skilled luthier, or just accepting the scratch as a battle scar. 

French polish’s delicateness is more than made up for by its beauty, thinness, and reparability. With just a few precautions, guitarists should have no problem with French polished instruments.

You can refresh your french polished guitar! Of all the finishes, French polish can be most easily touched up; it is possible to “refresh” a french polish finish, or french polish over the existing finish, minimising the appearance of the scratches there. Lacquer, at least the type I use, is more difficult to repair without redoing/reworking the whole surface in question. Many classical guitar luthiers will be able to touch up a french polished guitar; you don't necessarily need to send them back to the original maker. With lacquer finishes, guitar repairers from the steel string world will also be able to help and might be more experienced.

Refinish at your peril! Refinishing a guitar means removing the old varnish/finish, and then finishing it anew. Luthiers/repairers will always seek for a way to repair and keep the original varnish, because removing the varnish and then redoing it always entails removing some wood as well, which is dangerous for the structure of the guitar and can alter the sound. This is particularly true with lattice and double top guitars. They can have soundboards made from only 0.6-1mm thick pieces of wood. It is always slightly risky to remove the finish, especially as one never knows how deep any inlays such as the rosette or purfling go, or how the sound might be affected by the removal of material. There is not much room to do repairs there, so certainly worth taking very good care of the guitar in the first place. I have written about the construction of both lattice and double top guitars here:

https://www.michaeledgeworthguitars.com/en/blog/what-are-double-top-guitars-what-are-lattice-guitars

Find the master repairer. Regarding repairs, it is worth bearing in mind that classical guitar repair is an art in itself. It is possible for someone to be a master guitar maker and not be brilliant at repairs. So when taking a guitar to be repaired, it’s best to try and find someone experienced and confident at doing classical guitar repairs. 

Of course, I would say the best solution to scratches is prevention rather than repair.

Should I keep my guitar in or out of its case?

Humidity, humidity, humidity. The answer to this question mostly relates to humidity. Wood expands and contracts with changes in humidity and temperature, and keeping a guitar in its case protects the instrument to some extent from these changes. It protects the guitar from changes when you turn on the central heating, open a window, have a shower etc. Keeping a guitar in its case also makes sense if you don’t have a dedicated music room, and your guitar is in danger of being knocked. 

Humidity relating to musical instruments is an interesting subject. I’ve written a separate blog post on the subject here: https://www.michaeledgeworthguitars.com/en/blog/humidity-humidity-humidity . I recommend that at a minimum, all guitarists own a hydrometer and keep it near their handmade classical/flamenco guitar. Wood swells and expands at high humidity, and shrinks at low humidity. You must at least be aware of the humidity around your instrument. If the air is too dry, your guitar can crack; too wet and the wood can swell and distort. You may also find that the sound of your guitar changes along with swings in humidity.

How is the soundboard of your guitar constructed? Different construction types are more affected by changes in humidity. For example, a spruce soundboard will expand and shrink more than a cedar soundboard. Double top guitars are less likely to crack than traditionally made instruments; they expand and contract less due to the construction design. Certain traditional designs will behave differently than others. Guitars are usually made at 45% relative humidity; this gives the most leeway for expansion and shrinkage without damage. Most guitars will perform best in the same humidity it was built, so I would recommend keeping a handmade guitar between 45-55% relative humidity. 

There are a few good ways to control the humidity around your guitar. I love to use two-way humidity packs made by D’addario and Bodeva. You put two or three in the guitar case, along with the guitar, and this controls the humidity within the guitar case. If you have a dedicated music room where you keep all your instruments, it would be worthwhile to consider controlling the humidity of the whole room. I’ve been controlling the humidity of my workshop for many years so I know a few things about it. Because I live in the UK, where the humidity is high, I’ve always had to use a dehumidifier to bring down the high humidity. In other, fryer climates, the opposite machine, a humidifier, would be necessary instead. 

The importance of a good hardcase:

You and your guitar can travel with confidence! If you have found a classical guitar you love, now you need to find a good case for it. With a really fantastic case you can walk in rain, snow, travel on a plane, stay in hotels etc, and the temperature and - combined with a humidity pack inside the case - humidity within the case should stay relatively stable and safe for your guitar. 

Many cheaper cases aren’t completely sealed, and while these are fine for storing your guitar at home, if you want to actually take your guitar places without the worry of being caught in the rain or bad weather, a better, higher quality case is in order. I have been caught in the rain before, with a less than ideal hardcase, and when I got home and inspected the guitar, I found the rain had got inside the case. As high quality guitars are expensive and fragile, a high quality hardcase case is more than worth it. 

I would advise never even considering a soft case for a high quality classical guitar, not for any circumstances. They simply won't protect a classical guitar. 

As I am designing and getting ready to launch my signature guitar model, I am thinking about which hardcase will be best to provide along with the guitar. Here in the UK, the most standard hard case is the British made Hiscox Pro ii Classical which costs around £180. The most expensive cases made by companies such as Visesnut, Pegasus, BAM etc can cost around £800. I will write a blog post detailing the various guitar case options available.

How do I travel on a plane with a classical guitar?

I will make a few points regarding travelling on a plane with your high quality classical guitar, even though this question probably deserves a blog post of its own. When travelling on a plane with a guitar, the guitarist will likely need to buy an extra seat for the guitar. 

On some airlines, with longer distance flights for example, it can be possible to just turn up with the guitar, and the cabin crew will find a suitable place in the cabin to keep it. This is obviously quite risky, because you don’t want your guitar to end up in the hold with the other large items of luggage. 

You don’t want your guitar to go in the hold of the plane, because airport/plane staff are notoriously rough with baggage, and your high quality instrument, even in a hardcase, could easily end up broken. If I were to transport a guitar in the hold of a plane, I would pack it up as if I were shipping it internationally, in its case, with lots of bubble wrap, in a cardboard box.

When travelling with my guitars, I have always bought an extra seat. One thing I’ve noticed is that humidity in the cabin gets extraordinarily low. So it’s important to have a well sealed hardcase, with some humidity packs inside.

How long is a guitar supposed to last anyway?

Guitars are quite delicate instruments. Though with some care, there's no real reason a high quality guitar wouldn't outlast you! Professional players tend to consider a 10 - 15 year old guitar as starting to get on a bit. By that time, the finish may be showing signs of wear, and the sound may have changed over time. 

Do and Don’t List for classical guitarists. How to care for your guitar

DO be aware of how your guitar is polished. French polish, lacquer, varnish and oil finishes require different levels of care.

DO adjust your right hand technique, so that you don’t touch the soundboard with your right hand’s nails.

DO be careful when changing strings. Use a string protector so you don’t get scratches and string dings around the bridge: 

https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/1545087219/soundboard-protector-protect-your

DO keep your guitar in its case when not in use and use humidity packs within the case. Alternatively, keep your guitars in a devoted music room, and carefully control the humidity of the whole room.

DO wipe down your guitar with a slightly damp cloth from time to time, to keep it from getting grubby.

DO buy a quality hardcase for your guitar. 

DON’T keep your high quality guitar in a softcase.

DON’T scratch the soundboard of your guitar with your right hand.

DON’T leave your guitar for long periods in direct daylight, by a radiator, next to a draft or fan, or in a too hot or cold car. 

DON’T let just anyone try your guitar. Inexperienced guitarists may accidentally scratch it.

Is perfect possible in art? And on visiting the Chichester Festival of Music Guitar Competition

Contents:

Introduction, on perfection

An example of perfectionism in my own work

Perfectionism in other arts

What is wabi-sabi?

Visiting the Chichester Festival of Music, Guitar Competition

Conclusion

Perfection

Perfection. Is it possible? Does it exist? Is it worth striving for? It can seem like such a long, difficult road to reach one’s idea of perfection in any art or craft. Every different art has its own unique challenges. All require passion, a bit of talent and, most of all, lots of hard work to overcome. 

My thoughts dwelled on the subject of perfection on a Sunday evening, riding the train home from Bognor Regis, where I had watched the last part of a competition for classical guitarists, at the Chichester Festival of Music. I was really moved by many of the performances there; the sheer love of the guitar, the evident ambition for excellence, and most of all, by the fact that sometimes, the most stirring performances had their imperfections and mistakes. 

I have reached a stage in my guitar making where I am redoing anything and everything - any small mistake of workmanship - until I’m satisfied that my work meets, or at least almost meets, my idea of perfection; so that every guitar leaves the workshop perfect. For classical guitars in my price range, it is genuinely important. I think it’s the right approach; often I learn a great deal in the act of redoing a task. However, at the same time, sometimes I feel crazy, spending what can seem like forever redoing tasks, repairing ‘mistakes’ that perhaps no one would have noticed anyway. It can be difficult to find a balance between seeking perfection, and obsessing to the point of counter productiveness. 

At the Chichester Festival of Music, it was wonderful for me to see people on a similar artistic journey, and particularly interesting to notice that some guitarists were dissatisfied with their performances that I had enjoyed so much. It made me remember some ideas and philosophies that I know will help me in my path towards excellence in guitar making. For example, as a kind of salve for anyone on a similar quest for perfection, there is the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi (nothing lasts, nothing is finished, nothing is perfect). I also reflected on the fact that I often prefer an artist’s, author’s, or guitar maker’s early work, while they are perhaps still struggling to define who they are and are not yet a master.

An example from my own work

I’ve just finished redoing the lacquer on the sides of an upcoming guitar. The guitar could have been finished a month ago, but I was unsatisfied with the job I’d done filling the grain. (Some woods have deep grain that needs to be filled, to create a perfectly flat surface for polishing). The grain needs to be filled with a filler that compliments the colour of the wood. After completing the varnishing process on this guitar, and looking over the guitar in the sunlight, I felt that the filler I used actually detracted from the beauty of the wood. I felt particularly bad as the wood had been given to me by the luthier Rik Middleton, who confided to me it was his favourite kind of wood. Aiming to follow my own principle - that the closer you look at a guitar, the better it should get - and wanting to do Rik’s favourite wood justice, I removed the varnish and tried to solve the issue. It actually took about three tries and a few weeks! it was a struggle but the issue is now solved.

Was it worth it? Would anyone have noticed anyway? Now that it’s fixed I feel much more confident about the guitar and the standard of my work. I also learned a great deal in the process of fixing it, not only about the problem itself, filling to grain, but other things too. For example, during the long process of fixing the grain issue, I ran out of 2-inch brushes, and was forced to apply the lacquer with a 1-inch brush instead. I’d have thought this would be too small, however I was delighted to discover that I could achieve a more even layer of lacquer with this size brush. 

I think my conclusion here is that although no, I don’t think any guitar player would have noticed anything wrong with the grain, I do think in this case, the relentless pursuit of excellence has improved me as a maker. I’m sure it won’t be the ‘perfect guitar’, but it will be the absolute best I can do at present. 

Striving to do one’s absolute best is a far better goal than striving for perfection. Any artistic creation that is unique, imbued with character and passion is far more impressive than something perfect. I greatly enjoy reading, but there is not one single perfect book in existence. Perfectionist tendencies can become too much, and can cause a person to enjoy their passion less. Such tendencies work best, when the artist pushes themselves to do their best, but at the same time is loving the process, recognising that really, nothing is perfect and in the grand scheme of the universe, it really isn’t that important. I would say that most artists must have in their brain, in a state of flux, a cocktail of not only perfectionist thoughts, pushing them to do their finest work; but that the healthiest artists also have, in balance, wabi-sabi type ideas, compassionately mitigating the perfectionism. 

Examples of perfectionism in other arts

There are a few composers I know of with some marvellous pieces but a very small output. One example is Maurice Durufle; he wrote some beautiful pieces, such as an amazing organ suite, a requiem and sets of motets. And although his perfectionist nature led to these marvellous works, it did inhibit him from writing more, and he couldn’t appreciate his own, wonderful, fantastic work. So he was constantly revising and updating his work, even after publication.

Apparently the artist Leonardo Davinci was a notorious perfectionist, leading again to a smaller output and many unfinished works. 

Sometimes it’s good to look at examples of bad art, a painting, or to read a poorly written book, or watch a bad film, to remember that some level of pride and perfectionism is important; only it should be in balance, there but in a healthy way.

Tools against perfectionism. What is wabi-sabi?

Wabi-sabi is everywhere in Japan, having imbued the culture for many centuries. It is difficult to translate such a deep idea into English. My first encounter with the idea was the phrase, ‘nothing lasts, nothing is finished, nothing is perfect’. It is an appreciation of the beauty in imperfection, in impermanence, of the effects of time on a beautiful thing. 

I think in western culture, we perhaps don’t realise how much we idolise perfection. But  nothing in nature is perfect! In regards to guitars, I don’t want to put down good workmanship (I’m a victim of perfectionism myself when it comes to my own workmanship) but far more important than that, are elements such as style, character, meaning and depth. Workmanship/technique alone doesn’t move peoples’ emotions.

When I think of wabi-sabi, I think of my Grandpa’s guitar. I can picture it leaning against the curtains in my grandparents house, next to the back door leading into the garden. The vivid greens of the garden and blues of the sky are a bright splash of colour against the warmth of the living room, and the light of the garden frames the guitar. The guitar is more than 50 years old, its soundboard cracked in many places, aged a golden brown, its polish a beautiful patina; it has probably been knocked over more than a few times by the many grandchildren; it looks so comfortable - at home. In a way that a new guitar never would. 

Visiting the Chichester Festival of Music Guitar Competition:

I ought to describe the event that led me to this deep-think on perfectionism. I had asked if I could display a guitar of two at a guitar competition at the Chichester Festival of Music. I have found that there are pockets of classical guitar communities, people who really passionately enjoy the guitar, not only around the country, but around the whole world. It’s lovely to seek out these communities and meet the people, and bring along with me my work; I find it really informs my guitar building. I really learn a lot from these events. This Chichester Festival of Music competition was actually held in the town of Bognor Regis, near Brighton. 

I didn’t grow up learning the classical guitar, and hadn’t attended any guitar competitions before, so didn’t really know what to expect. I have been to three competitions for guitar makers. They’ve all been brilliant learning opportunities, forcing me to push the boundaries of my work to new levels, see what other people are doing, and network amongst people with similar passions and goals. I have found however that I’ve always been too nervous to properly enjoy the experience. 

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The Chichester festival of music, and there on the blue table is an Edgeworth guitar on display.

At this competition, there were different categories that guitarists could enter, and prizes for the best performances in each. After each category was over, the adjudicator would give the players feedback and award the prizes. The event was marvellously hosted and organised by Sasha Levtov, a true force of guitar nature, who is not only a lifelong guitarist, but has inspired many of England’s classical guitarists as a teacher; whose sheer presence in the room and brilliant nature noticeably eased the nerves of all who were to perform. The event was adjudicated by Paul Gregory, who teaches and also sells guitars; when he was giving feedback to the players on the performances, it was such a delight to hear the outpour of musical passion and knowledge, so articulately expressed, even though I’m sure it must have been nerve-racking for the players. Sometimes he would talk about the history of a piece, and the composer’s intention, casting a whole new light on the piece just performed. 

I didn’t attend the first day but arrived around noon on the second day, sitting next to Connor and Ivonne, who were to perform in their guitar trio later. I noticed the hall was an interesting shape, it seemed to have been built for chamber/guitar music. It was great to hear the range of different guitar sounds, see the different playing styles of the performers, and notice their different song choices. Everyone did fantastically, I was filled with admiration for them all. It also makes me more intent to actually play guitar more, so at similar events I might be able to play something small, and at least share in the vulnerability of performing, instead of just observing.

I particularly enjoyed Ian’s performances of some classic Spanish pieces, especially Granada by Albinez. I also loved Joe’s pieces, and for days after, the piece that stuck in my head was the Cancion from Suite Compostelana by Federico Moupou, which I’m fairly certain was played by Joe. He also had an interesting guitar; it was loud and he got a lovely tone with it; I thought his instrument seemed powerful in an uncontrollable way, like a big beautiful kite in a storm, so Joe had to keep it under control. This idea added a sense of story and drama for me and was my favourite performance of the day. I loved the tone quality and the arrangement in Connor and Ivonne’s (and one other person’s) guitar trio. A funny moment was when the adjudicator Paul had awarded Linda a prize for an awesome performance; he looked closer at the trophy, and in surprise noticed and read aloud just how many times Linda’s name was already inscribed as winner on the trophy, going back over 20 years. There is something magical about the classical guitar that inspires such lifelong passion and interest, and it really happens all over the world. 

In conclusion

The drive for perfection can result in amazing work; it is of course important to always try to get better and better. But perfectionism unfettered can stifle enthusiasm for one’s work, and stall progress. I think perfectionism mixed with a wabi-sabi philosophy might just be a winning combination towards excellence in art, promoting both quality of work as well as compassion for oneself as an artist. Listening to the guitarists at the Chichester Music Festival, with my limited knowledge of actually playing guitar, I could just listen and enjoy without worrying about the small elements of technique that the players were probably obsessing over. Instead, I was wonderfully moved by the music, and amazed at how they had developed this amazing skill to such a high level. I saw my passion mirrored, and think people probably view my art in a similar way to how I viewed theirs.

What are short scale guitars and who are they for?

I was in my early 20s, and I was about to begin making my first guitar in several years. I was excited, but at that time, the prospect of making a guitar also seemed like a monumental challenge. Having heard that there was a guitar concert happening in a nearby village, I set off on a winter's evening by train to a village called Stewartby, in search of some inspiration. I definitely found it. The guitarist was Valerie Hartzell. As I listened to her play, I knew I was hearing the full potential of the classical guitar. I could picture what I wanted my own guitars to sound like. It was a game changing concert for me. Unbeknownst to me at the time, it was also my first encounter with a short scale guitar. 

Valerie played a 630mm guitar built by an American guitar maker called Greg Byers. Usually guitars have a scale length of 650mm - that’s 650mm from the nut to the saddle - anything shorter than that is considered ‘short-scale’. Since 650 is considered full sized, it may not occur to many guitarists that other options may be more suitable for them. If you consider the wide range of heights and hand sizes amongst men, women and children, it really doesn’t make sense that everyone should use the same size guitar. And as shown by Valerie’s performance, which has inspired me throughout my whole career, it is more than possible to make a real impact with a short scale guitar. 

Here is a recently built guitar which has a 610mm scale length. It is a really interesting guitar, because it was built in collaboration with two other guitar makers, Paul Fischer and Rik Middleton.

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How many classical guitar sizes are there?

Here Valerie plays her Greg Byers guitar. It can be seen here that a 630mm guitar doesn’t seem noticeably smaller than a 650mm guitar.

Any scale length is technically possible. 650, as I mentioned, is full sized. 630 is a common length for a short scale guitar, the difference is noticeable but still subtle. A scale length of 610, or more precisely, 613.5, is the length of a full size guitar with a capo at the first fret. In case you are reading this in 2024, my next two guitars, in early Spring, will have a scale length of around 613.5mm, so if you are curious to try such an instrument, don’t hesitate to get in touch. 

Smaller instruments than that are of course possible. I recently watched a guitar orchestra performance; as well as normal guitars, they had massive guitars with their strings tuned an octave lower, and smaller guitars with their strings tuned higher. On the larger side of things, 660mm instruments aren’t uncommon. The largest I’ve tried was 720mm, details of which you can find here: https://www.michaeledgeworthguitars.com/en/blog/a-marvellous-and-historic-instrument

Guitar sizes are particularly confusing because different people use different units of measurement. Here’s a table to simplify things a bit, with the size, an then the corresponding scale length in inches and millimetres:

4/4 (Full size) -650mm - 26”

3/4 - 580mm - 22.8”

1/2 - 535mm - 21”

1/4 - 480mm - 19”

On the design of smaller instruments

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Here is a 610mm guitar next to a 650mm full sized guitar.

There are some difficulties for guitar makers when building a shorter or longer scale instrument; to a degree the whole instrument has to be slightly redesigned. For example, if the scale length is shorter, the guitar’s bridge needs to be closer to the soundhole. That can look strange if the guitar maker isn’t careful. To avoid that looking weird, the guitar’s body needs to be made slightly smaller. Another such adjustment is the bracing. A smaller guitar will need lighter bracing, and higher tension strings. 

One thing that tends to stay the same on a smaller guitar is the width of the fingerboard. On a regular guitar, the fingerboard is 52mm wide at the nut and 62mm at the 12th fret. If the fingerboard is made much narrower than this, the instrument quickly starts to become difficult to play, as the strings are simply too close together. 

I think a huge advantage of handcrafted guitars is that it’s possible to find the ideal instrument for you, something that not only sounds amazing, but fits you like a glove. The scale length of an instrument is definitely a part of that and shouldn’t be overlooked. A skilled guitar maker would be able to make the small adjustments in bracing and design to make a smaller instrument sing, despite the difference in size and string tension. Just as Greg Byers did with Valerie’s instrument. I spoke to Valerie later about her guitar. I remember it as being really powerful! She said that Greg was displaying it at a guitar festival in the US, where she tried it and decided it was the instrument for her. 

Torres, considered the father of the modern classical guitar as we know it, built many smaller instruments. The same for earlier makers, such as Lacote and Panormo. 

What about guitars for children? What size classical/flamenco guitar should I buy for my child?


It can be difficult to find guitars for young guitarists that are made with the same care as full sized instruments. However, with the right instrument, any young guitarist will be far more enthusiastic to pick up the instrument, and avoid any bad habits caused by an unsuitable guitar. 

If possible, the best way to find the right size would be to try out several sizes and see what’s most comfortable for them. In some cases, it’s possible for quite small guitarists to use a 650 or 630mm size instrument. Although the size of a guitar is measured by its ‘scale length’ (the length of the string from nut to saddle), another important factor is the size of the guitar’s body. Too big or small, or too deep, and the guitar can feel awkward and cumbersome to play. 

There are some videos of a young Ana Vidovic playing a full sized guitar when she was very young, and the same with a young Xuefei Yang. On the other hand, I believe Valerie Hartzell told me that she visited the Ramirez workshop when she was a child, with her parents, and they bought a small Ramirez guitar, which she used throughout her childhood.

Classical guitars for adults are often finished with French polish. With kids, it might be a bad idea to use something so delicate, so a lacquer finish would almost certainly be the answer here. 

I remember being about 8 and beginning to learn the violin, and I remember thinking how brilliant the violin itself seemed to me. I had one on loan from my school. It and it’s bow were so beautiful, I really wanted to learn how to play it! I witnessed the same with my two sisters, as they learned the piano and saxophone respectively. The glistening golden shine of a saxophone… it’s very alluring. I think for the same reason, it’s worth getting a guitar of reasonable quality for a young guitarist; something they are drawn to play. If they do grow out of it, they might still keep it forever. I think that Valerie, for example, still has her Ramirez guitar from childhood.

Some of my recent work

Over the past year or so I’ve reached an exciting phase of my guitar making career. The tangible and visible elements of my guitars - such as the aesthetics, workmanship and the different types of polishing - are really coming together, and I’m close to finishing development on my own signature model. Some guitar makers develop their ideal guitar design, and once that’s done, they spend the rest of their career basically building the same guitar over and over, refining it over time. With many guitars you can take one look at the rosette, headstock shape, or even type of finish, and immediately know who built it. I really like this way of working as opposed to building copies of older guitar makers’ work. But best of all, now that I’m satisfied with the tangible considerations such as workmanship, finishing etc, that means even more energy can be put towards the sound, which is the most important thing after all. 

In this post I’ll describe some of my recent work. While I was building these guitars, I was thinking ahead to the design of my signature model. The focus of my attention shifted very firmly towards the sound. I actually took the first of these guitars to a guitar making competition. For that competition guitar, I had a really strict zero tolerance policy towards any aspect of workmanship that I was the slightest bit unhappy about. I re-did any small mistake, and I have kept this practice, and therefore every guitar that leaves the workshop has gone through a vigorous quality control regime. I thought I was a perfectionist before, but the standard is definitely higher now.

Before building these guitars, thinking very much about how to achieve a stronger sounding guitar, I sought advice from some master guitar makers. I visited the now retired Paul Fischer in Oxford with a couple of guitars, as well as Rik Middleton in Coventry, and was able to show a guitar to German luthier Gernot Wagner in a chance meeting in London. So I’ve tried to incorporate some of the principles that they spoke about. I’m really glad to have the hurdle of workmanship out of the way, so I can focus very much on the sound. Crafting sound is something so interesting, mysterious and intangible. When speaking to the guitar makers I mentioned, I got a sense of this mysterious art being passed along. I feel like not many such arts still exist in the modern world, and if they do, they’ve been made partly redundant by modern technology. Happily, this isn’t the case with classical guitars. The guitars I’ll describe below were all made with wood given to me by Rik Middleton. It’s extremely beautiful, aged forever in his workshop, and I did my best to do it justice.

A flamenco guitar, made from spruce and flamed maple:

The design:

For the design of my flamenco guitars, I began by using a plan of a guitar by Santos Hernandez, a brilliant Spanish guitar maker of the 20th century. He used a variety of bracing patterns, but this one uses seven fan braces and no closing bars. Over the years I have continually refined the design, seeking what works best for me and the guitarists I get feedback from. I think the resulting sound is quite sweet, clean, and old-school. Even suitable for some classical players. Guitars of this general design were used when there was less of a distinction between flamenco and classical guitars, so guitars like this particularly tend to suit Spanish music of the early 20th century, as well as flamenco music. For the body shape I used my signature shape. The rosette is handmade by me, the mosaic inspired by a pattern used by Spanish builders such as Ramirez and Gerundino. The headstock shape was inspired by Paul Fischer; although I like it, I have an idea to develop it further, so I think the next guitar’s headstock will be even better. 

The wood 

Flamed Maple - Rik bought the flamed maple for this guitar early in his guitar making career, from a retiring cello maker; maple is also used for the back/sides of the violin family, but the varnish used is darker. Rik used maple from the same set to build his very first guitar, and had kept the rest his whole career. My first two guitars were built using maple too, one with plain maple, and the other with birdseye maple. So I’ve always been a maple fan. Maple is also one of the three woods regularly used by the maker Torres - he mostly used rosewood, cypress, and maple - therefore it has always been considered a very traditional wood for guitars. This is a beautiful set and was a delight to work with. Sometimes, very figured woods like this can be a pain to work with, however for such woods I use a tool called a toothing plane, and then a cabinet scraper, and usually avoid any problems. 

Some snakewood bindings being sawn. A beautiful but difficult wood to work with

Snakewood - For the bindings and some decoration on the headstock I used snakewood. Snakewood is a beautiful wood which grows in some coastal areas in South America. It's not endangered but it’s quite difficult to get in lengths long enough to use for guitar binding. It’s generally a pain to use; it’s very dense and difficult to work; it splits easily making it difficult to bend. Due to these problems it’s only really used in small strips and not for anything structural. I discovered snakewood from looking into Paul Fischer’s work, who used it quite often for binding and decoration. I used three complimentary pieces of snakewood to make up the headstock veneer on this guitar. I also used double strips of snakewood for the binding. This is a touch of workmanship I’ve seen in the work of several high end luthiers, including Paul’s, Gernot Wagner’s, and David Rubio’s. It gives a stronger outline/border to the shape of the guitar.

Ebony - For the fretboard a very black ebony was used. Due to environmental concerns, it’s difficult to find ebony so black. It usually has some grey streaks amongst the black. I did some research last year into the sustainability of guitar woods, and ebony is definitely a wood I want to only buy from verified sustainable sources. The other difficult thing about ebony is that it seems to shrink continually, resulting in protruding fret ends and sometimes cracks alongside the fretboard. Rik had kept this piece of ebony for almost 25 years, and on it had written its weight over time. So it was interesting to see how much water it had lost over time. 

Spruce - Spruce is the wood I’ve used most for the soundboards of my guitars. Soundboards are made with two bookmatched pieces of wood and joined in the middle. This particular example was already joined when I received it. But it had a dark stripe down the centre line, which occurs when the two pieces of the soundboard are very aged even before being joined and they begin to darken around the edges. Although this dark stripe is actually relatively common is guitars and not considered a flaw per se, I decided to unjoin the two pieces, get rid of the darkened section, and then rejoin them.

The golpeador

I’ve detailed how I glue a golpeador here: https://www.michaeledgeworthguitars.com/en/blog/how-i-glue-golpeadors-to-flamenco-guitars . The shape of this golpeador was inspired by the fact that many flamenco players like to rest the thumb of their right hand on the rosette, sometimes gouging into the finish and wood. This one extends over the rosette on that side. Thanks to my method of applying the golpeador, it’s fairly invisible to anyone looking at it from any distance.

The finish

For the back and sides I used a kind of lacquer, and for the soundboard and neck, French polish. Amongst many of the professional players I’ve spoken to, the overall consensus has been that they would prefer French polish for the soundboard, as it’s the thinnest finish and doesn’t impede the vibration of the soundboard, but that something that doesn’t wear so easily would be for more suitable for the back and sides. I don’t like to use lacquer for the neck as well, because then I feel the guitar tends to feel less like wood, and perhaps too ‘plasticky’, so for that reason I French polished the neck. There are a variety of different finishes, all difficult to master. I like using the most suitable finish for particular parts of the guitar, and it also gives me a chance to show off my finishing skills.

A classical guitar, made from spruce and a wood called Palo Escrito:

I will update this picture shortly once I’ve taken pictures of the completed instrument

The design

I have been developing my concert guitar for a while, and the design has gone through many changes. A little over a year ago, I showed luthier Paul Fischer a plan of the bracing pattern I was using at the time. We talked it through together and we made some changes. As I mentioned, around that time I was also in touch with other guitar makers, and the guitar design I have now was greatly influenced by my discussions with them. In my earlier guitars, I got to a point where I could consistently achieve a sweet sound with a good tone, but perhaps lacking in volume and projection. Therefore, I have been aiming for a more powerful guitar but without sacrificing the good qualities in my earlier guitars. The wood itself is quite beautiful on this guitar so I’ve kept the decoration fairly minimalistic, to let the beauty of the wood speak for itself.

The wood

Palo Escrito - Rik mentioned that Palo Escrito might be his favourite wood for its sound properties. It’s also visually stunning; a beautiful golden brown, it’s called ‘Escrito’ because it has grain lines that resemble writing. It’s a type of rosewood. To contrast against the Palo Escrito, I used ebony binding. 

The finish

This guitar has, in theory, the perfect combination of finishes. I have long said that if I were to build a guitar for myself, I would like French polish for the top, lacquer for the back/sides, and oil for the neck. So, I finally carried out my idea on this guitar. I also French polished the headstock. I think this combination of finishes takes into account all sonic, visual and tactile concerns.

Many agree that oiled necks feel amazingly slick. For me, French polish is not only visually the most beautiful, but it’s also probably the best finish for the soundboard as it’s the thinnest. I’ve also spent many years refining my method for applying a particular kind of lacquer; it’s a very tough finish and easy to take care of, so perfect for the back and sides. Every guitar finish has strengths and weaknesses; I think I’ve used each finish in the best way here.

Some upcoming work:

In the coming months, I’ll be completing some exciting work. Two short-scale guitars; they will be very special instruments. One will be my first lattice instrument. Both with spruce soundboards, one will have Indian rosewood back/sides, and the other Pau Ferro. The most brilliant thing is that these soundboards were given to me by Rik, with the rosette and bracing already completed by him. So these guitars are a collaboration. And a chance for me to get a unique insight into his work and learn from his experience. I am ridiculously excited and I look forward to showing him and guitarists in general the finished instruments.

A soon to be completed short scale guitar with lattice, or ‘trellis’, bracing.

What are double-top guitars? What are lattice guitars?

Guitars are fascinating instruments! Their design is constantly being experimented upon and improved, in the search for better tone, volume and projection. It is fascinating to track the guitar all the way from the baroque period, until today. Guitarists have always been eager for improvements, and guitar makers ever willing to innovate. Over the past 30 years, two innovations in particular have taken the classical guitar world by storm: the double top guitar and the lattice guitar. What are they? How, why and from where did they appear? What do they sound like? 

The guitar before lattice and double top bracing:

You are probably aware that different guitar makers specialise in using different bracing patterns. Many makers develop their own designs, and it’s these different designs that give guitars their unique sounds. The narrow lengths of wood we call ‘bracing’ support the interior of a guitar's soundboard, keeping the guitar from caving in on itself under the pull of the strings. In balance with this structural purpose, the bracing is also designed not to be so stiff or heavy as to inhibit the vibration of the soundboard.

Throughout the 20th century guitar makers mostly used what we now call ‘traditional bracing’. This kind of bracing was pioneered in the late 19th century by a maker called Antonio Torres. A traditionally braced guitar in the Torres style generally has a soundboard with a thickness between 1.8mm and 2.5mm, the interior of which has 7 struts made of spruce laid out in the shape of a fan. 20th century makers built on this design, finding their own unique sounds within this concept. For example, French maker Robert Bouchet added a brace going across the soundboard under the bridge, and reduced the number of fan braces to five. A Spanish guitar builder called Ignacio Fleta started using cedar, as opposed to spruce, as his material of choice for the soundboard, and he increased the number of fan braces to nine. Within this general framework - a solid spruce or cedar soundboard with fan braces - many great guitars have been built and continue to be built. This fan braced instrument in all its variations is what we think of as the traditional classical guitar.

The lattice braced guitar:

The basic idea of lattice bracing had been around for a while. Using bracing across the guitar soundboard was not a new idea, though the rationale behind its use had been different. Lattice bracing not only has strutting along the grain of the soundboard, as in fan bracing, but also has struts across the grain of the soundboard. The bracing forms a grid-like trellis structure, which is stronger and stiffer than regular fan bracing. Due to the strength of the bracing, the thickness of the soundboard can be made much thinner, between 1mm and 1.5mm and in theory the result is a louder guitar and with a different sound quality. 

Often the term ‘lattice guitar’ is associated not only with the bracing, but with the fact that many lattice guitars also have very thick back and sides, and are generally very heavy. However, not all lattice braced guitars are like that; this is just one way that they can be constructed. Guitar makers are exploring many possibilities of lattice bracing; some makers use carbon fibre to reinforce the lattice structure to make it really stiff; some makers conversely only use wood bracing; some lattice guitars are constructed with thin back/sides, others with thick. The very heavily built lattice guitars are associated with the Australian school of guitar building and particularly with the luthier Greg Smallman, who was one of the pioneers of the lattice guitar.

The lattice guitar began to rise to prominence and be accepted in the 80s. It seems that Australian guitar builder Greg Smallman, Japanese builder Kohno and English maker Paul Fischer all separately came up with lattice based designs at that time, and probably other makers did too. I like the story of Greg Smallman developing his guitar; if I recall correctly, he would doggedly try to get feedback on his guitars from players (particularly collaborating with very famous guitarist John Williams), trying to understand what guitar players wanted and needed from their guitars, and adjusting the design of his guitars in accordance. What he eventually came up with was something quite far from the traditional guitar. In England, Paul Fischer collaborated with a scientist called Bernard Richardson; together they experimented on designing a bracing pattern, for a guitar with increased projection. The result was Paul’s Taut model. Technically, both Paul and Greg’s guitar models have lattice bracing, but they are very different guitars. Well known and fantastic players such as John Williams (on a Smallman guitar) Xuefei Yang (Smallman and Fischer), Jason Vieaux (Fischer), play using lattice guitars, showing that this type of construction must have some merit.

The double top guitar:

Many luthiers over the centuries have searched for some innovation to make a drastic improvement to the guitar. But I don’t think any such innovation has been quite so successful at making such a huge impact on the guitar world, as the double-top guitar.

The construction of the double-top is clever and modern. “Double-top” refers to the soundboard, which, rather than being one solid piece of wood, is actually made up of three layers: two very thin layers of wood - hence ‘double-top’ - and sandwiched between them, a layer of a man-made material called nomex. Nomex has a honeycomb structure, so there’s a lot of empty space. It feels a bit like paper, quite light and fragile. However, once the nomex is glued up between the two layers of wood, the whole structure is very stiff and strong. Each layer of wood can be around 0.3-0.6mm thick! Extremely thin. The whole rationale behind double tops is to decrease the overall weight of the soundboard, and the resulting sound is supposed to be much louder. 

There are two guitar makers associated with the creation of double top guitars. They are Mathias Dammann and Gernot Wagner. I believe it was Dammann, in his search to build his ideal guitar - and dissatisfied with attempts so far - who initially experimented with double top ideas, in the late 80s/early 90s when he was in his early 30s. I believe initial attempts involved using strips of wood as the middle layer of the double top, but he soon discovered the material nomex, and was able to see its potential for guitar building. I do admire the ingenuity of the double top invention, particularly as nomex was initially developed for use in fields completely unrelated to guitar making

While Dammann was building the first double tops, fellow German luthier Gernot Wagner had reached similar conclusions while trying to improve the sound of his guitars. He had realised that when he used the lightest material for his soundboards, he came closer to achieving the sound he wanted. He would therefore immediately see the merit in an idea that reduces the weight of the soundboard considerably. Somehow, the two luthiers met and exchanged ideas, around the time when Dammann was building his first double tops. I think such a collaboration is quite enviable! And from it has emerged the double top classical guitar that we know today. As with lattice guitars, and traditional guitars, there is a spectrum of double-top guitars, and many different construction styles. They tend to sound differently to traditional guitars, but each double top builder will have their own unique design and sound.

So, double top, traditional or lattice?

Usually, it’s best to simply judge every guitar on its sound, playability and aesthetic, and not worry initially about what the interior construction is. There are many stereotypes regarding materials and construction methods, such as: spruce sounding more articulate; cedar’s tone being darker and louder; double tops and lattice being louder but with a less pleasing tone. It’s important to be aware of the different construction methods out there, but I would  recommend disregarding such preconceptions and try to judge each unique guitar impartially. Also, you will have different priorities, depending on if you’re a professional constantly touring musician, a student, a teacher, or someone who likes to play guitar in their free time. There are professional guitarists playing all different types of construction, so there is no clear consensus as to what is better; it is really down to personal taste.

So far, I have built mostly traditionally braced instruments. There is a huge gamut of tones, colours, loudness levels etc to be found, even only among traditional guitars. It is in fact extraordinary to hear the wide range of possibilities. I have experienced this when attending guitar making competitions - where there is the opportunity to hear many guitars in comparison with each other - and when visiting classical guitar dealers, where of course you can try many guitars. I have built one experimental double top guitar, which I wasn’t at all happy with actually, but it was just an experiment; in the end it was a loud guitar but with a voice that barked rather than sung. I would say that knowing how to build a good double top, or lattice, is its own art, as valid as building traditional guitars. I think it’s fantastic that lattice and double tops exist; I think it broadens the possibilities of the classical guitar, and increases the chances of finding the ideal sound for you.

I was able to meet Gernot Wagner, one of the first double top makers, while visiting London Guitar Studio one December. Since, Gernot was scheduled to arrive soon, the owners said I should stay and get get some feedback on a guitar I’d built. Gernot, like many luthiers, is extremely open about his methods, for the sake of furthering the craft. I had the fortune to receive from him what he called a free lecture. He told me in particular about his general building principles which eventually led him to building double-top guitars. When I was studying at college, I attended a lecture by guitar maker Paul Fischer. He developed a kind of bracing, not dissimilar to lattice, that he called taut bracing. It takes a certain curiosity and bravery to really push the limits in guitar making, and a lot of talent to do so successfully. I do admire the lattice and double-top guitars of the world. I don’t know whether my quest for my perfect sound will lead me down the double-top/lattice path in the long run. Having said that, I am building my first lattice guitar now, in collaboration with a guitar maker called Rik Middleton. I look forward to seeing how it sounds. 

Excitingly, many luthiers who are considered quite influential today, such as Smallman, Wagner, Dammann, Friedrich etc, started to settle upon their signature sound around their early 30s. I’m approaching that age! I’m at a time in my career, where worries about craftsmanship are getting smaller as skill increases and my perfectionism regarding my guitars is more satisfied. That leaves the sound as the main focal point of my attention, and I look forward to seeing what sound-paths I tread in the coming years.

What are handcrafted classical guitars and who are they for?

As far as classical guitars go, handmade reigns supreme, as shown by the fact that just about every professional plays a handmade guitar. This is different to the steel-string or electric guitar world, where factories and big-brands are king. For me and many others, it is one of the most charming things about the classical guitar. But for those newer to the classical guitar, or perhaps asking themselves questions such as, “Am I good enough for a handmade guitar?”, this article is for you.

Looking inside the soundhole of a guitar, you see a label and on that label a name, the name of a man or woman who dedicated perhaps much of their life towards honing the sound of their instruments, and diligently refining their unique aesthetics. That is at least how I felt as a teenager, peering into the soundhole of my grandpa’s old, quite cracked but well loved Harald Petersen guitar; I felt I was holding a small piece of an artist’s work. A piece of art I could hold, play, look at, listen to - experiencing it in many different ways.

The artistry and craft of a classical guitar maker lies not only in the visual aspect, though each maker decorates their guitar uniquely to distinguish their instruments from others, and display their technical ability. It lies not only in the functional aspect - for example how comfortably the neck is shaped - or in the tactile aspect, such as which polish has been used and how well. Many would say the most important aspect is the sound, and partly I would agree; each guitar maker chases their individual idea of the perfect sound, refining their unique sound throughout their career. But I would really say that the best guitars bring all these aspects together and that this is the aim of the handmade guitar. But there is also an additional element; it would be better to say that the aim is to bring all these elements together, in a way best for that particular customer, as the maker and guitarist can correspond during the building process or perhaps just know each other anyway.

This aim is for the most part quite beyond classical guitars built in a factory. Part of the reason is that every single piece of wood is different and needs to be treated differently. The properties of each piece of wood can vary from piece to pieces, even when cut from the same tree. This is particularly true of wood for the soundboard on a classical guitar, which influences the sound most of all. Factories, due to the demands of mass-production, build every instrument exactly the same, despite variations in wood. Not only that but the priorities of factories don’t necessarily correspond with what is best for a great classical guitar. Priorities such as needing to limit returns and repairs, therefore building for robust instruments, and prioritising speed, so finishes like French polish are usually out of the question. This situation is unique to classical guitars, mostly arising from the fact that it’s a difficult job to make a classical guitar sound really good. It’s much easier to build a bad sounding classical than a bad sounding steel-string. Conversely, the priorities of factories and players of steel-string/electric guitars, usually more or less align, therefore factory guitars remain popular with those players.

Classical players choose their guitar maker by a number of factors. Perhaps the guitarist is initially drawn in by the aesthetic style and craftsmanship of a particular maker, and the aesthetic details. Maybe a maker has a particularly brilliant signature sound. Perhaps a guitarist has gotten to know a maker and likes his ideas. 

Let’s zoom in on some of these different details. Firstly, the craftsmanship. Often, classical guitar makers, apart from putting their name on the label inside the soundhole, will distinguish their guitars by decorating them in a recognizable manner/style. There is limited scope to do this, since the guitar is a classical instrument and not much in the design can be changed. However, if you look at the headstock, here the maker distinguishes himself with a unique design. It has to be unique, something he has thought up himself; it is actually considered poor form to copy someone else's design here. Therefore, you can usually recognise a guitar maker by their headstock design. There is also the rosette, the pattern around the soundhole. There are guitar makers who make every rosette unique and different; others buy the rosette; but there are some that create a distinctive design here and use the same design on each guitar. Growing up, I always loved the Paul Fischer rosette (a guitar maker from Oxford, UK. A maker with a distinctive rosette today is Philip Woodfield. I personally like it when you can distinguish a guitar’s maker by the rosette design. It somehow ties together their whole body of work. Some makers also decorate the tie block on the bridge with a pattern corresponding with or complimenting the rosette. If you look at guitars throughout the careers of many makers, often at first the design varies, then as they mature they begin to build essentially the same instrument design over and over, as they fine tune their ideal design.

Aside from the aesthetic design choices, there is also the level of workmanship. I think the best makers are very exacting in their workmanship. The workmanship represents the guitar maker’s pride in his work. I think with the best guitars, the closer you look, the better it gets; rather than the opposite with guitars with poor workmanship.

Secondly, the sound. There is such variety in sound with classical guitars, it is a truly brilliant situation! A small anecdote: years ago, I attended a violin making competition in Malta. Some of the judges lamented the fact that all the violins there essentially sounded the same; this is because violin players and makers idolise Stradivarius and Gueneri violins, and achieving that same sound has become an art. The situation is so different with guitars. There are fan braced guitars of many different varieties; fan bracing is what we consider traditional bracing. Newer innovations are common such as double top guitars and lattice braced guitars, and such designs are ever being refined. Older types of bracing exist too, such as ladder bracing, from the 18th and 19th century. Within each type of bracing, many sound-worlds exist. Some of these sound-worlds become associated with particular guitar makers. For example, a guitar maker who lived in 20th century Paris named Robert Bouchet, inspired by a 19th century guitar he had, began to brace his instruments with a cross brace under the bridge, giving his guitars a distinctive sound which became very famous. That type of cross brace is now known as a ‘Bouchet bar’. 

The sound is the real meat of the matter when it comes to the classical guitar. Personally, I think a classical guitar maker will have long mastered the craftsmanship aspect of guitar making before he masters the sound. Often when guitarists try out a guitar, the sound is really the thing they pay attention to. A louder guitar, sweeter, more colourful, bassier, responsive, dry, crisp. A guitar maker plots his course in this deep forest of sounds. The guitarist must go into that forest too, and in there find the guitar maker most suited to him. 

Finally there is the aspect of collaboration between maker and guitarist. Although often the best results can be achieved when a guitar maker is left to build his signature design, sometimes two people can come together and create something better than one person could ever do alone; two people inspiring each other

With that background covered about what a handmade classical guitar is, we can answer the question about who they are for. The answer is that they are for many groups of people. There are musicians who like to enrich their lives by playing the classical guitar as a hobby; there are professional touring musicians, students, teachers. For some players the handmade guitar is a luxury, a feast for the senses, and in a way I actually think it is this group of players who most appreciate the classical guitar maker's art. For professional classical guitarists and serious students, it is essential for them to have a guitar that doesn’t limit them. Just as long ago a warrior might prefer to go into battle with a well crafted and sharpened sword, the professional musician needs a serious instrument too. For them, the handcrafted guitar is not just a luxury, but an essential tool. Once a player has discovered the vast range of sounds possible with handmade guitars, it is difficult to return to worse instruments. As a player progresses and grows as a musician, they might notice limitations in their instruments that they weren’t able to perceive initially. I would think when that happens that they are ready for something better. A guitar can seem limiting for any number of reasons, soundwise, visually, or due to functional issues such as neck shape or intonation. 

This blog post has me thinking of many of the guitar makers through the ages whose different sounds and designs I admire greatly. I think if we were to ask them, who their guitars are suitable for, they would agree that if you will play the guitar, enjoy it and take care of it, then you are ready for a handmade guitar.

Constantly improving the guitars

I've been thinking about the subject of constantly improving as a guitar maker. This line of thought was prompted by a podcast I listened to recently, in which a guitarist talked about her journey of improving as a guitarist, attending conservatories, masterclasses and competitions etc and she spoke a lot about receiving feedback. I noticed many parallels to my career making guitars, and I guess it's similar for anyone trying to master an art/craft. 

An upcoming guitar, currently being polished

Seeking out and interpreting feedback is an important part of making guitars. There are several different sources of feedback, each with different priorities and backgrounds, providing different and useful viewpoints. I have sought feedback from other guitar makers, guitar players - both amateur and professional - as well as guitar shops/dealers. For me, and I'm sure the same is true for many artists and musicians, I'm my harshest critic.

I think a good first step to improving at any skill is to have a clear picture of what you're aiming for. I think this is one reason guitar making is quite difficult, because the main goal is the sound, which is something intangible and quite subjective. Other goals in guitar making are easier to imagine, such as having excellent workmanship and varnishing skills, building up a collection of good quality, seasoned woods, creating an aesthetically good looking design/personal style of working etc. But the sound is definitely the most important and alluring aspect. Eventually, all other elements, workmanship, design, playability etc will or should be mastered and all that remains to focus on is the sound. If you track a guitar maker's career, in the early years the design/bracing of their guitars will probably vary quite considerably, but as they mature they will probably find the general sound they are looking for, and focus on one or two designs, fine tuning their sound for the majority of their career.

Feedback from players, makers and dealers is important, and from each group it's different. A good player can really put a guitar through its paces and say if they like it or not, and whether or not there's something lacking. Sometimes a guitarist won't like something, but won't be able to say why. Sometimes they’ll say a guitar is good, in order to be polite, but they're clearly not feeling it. This is why I consider interpreting feedback to be a sort of art. For example, a player might think the action is too high, when really the neck is poorly shaped and uncomfortable, so it's the job of the guitar maker to find out what the real cause of the problem is. Regarding sound it should be borne in mind that a player's ear might be tuned to whatever guitar they already have. Naturally, learning from other guitar makers is crucial because they can not only point out issues, but give real, practical solutions and advice on how to obtain a better sound. It is also interesting to get feedback from guitar dealers, because they see so many guitars, and therefore likely have their ear well tuned in, they can give hopefully accurate assessment of a guitar maker's guitar, and notice the fine details to be improved.

Having a well tuned-in ear is really important as a guitar maker. I’ve found it difficult to do in the past, as most of the work is in the workshop at the workbench, but activities such as going to guitar societies, concerts, going to a guitar shop/dealer and trying lots of guitars, have proved crucial for getting my ear attuned to what a good guitar sounds like, what the possibilities of the guitar are and what I want my guitars to sound like. I went to a guitar society meeting a few months ago, and enjoyed discovering the sound of a particular Christopher Dean guitar. It was a deep, large, luxurious sound. Although I don't want to emulate that sound on my own guitars, I did really like it and it slightly expanded my understanding of the sound of the classical guitar. When I went to a guitar making competition last summer, some of the guitars, in terms of volume, power and protection, exceeded what I thought was possible with traditional bracing. Another option for a guitar maker would be to find a guitar with an undoubtedly excellent sound, keep that guitar in the workshop and use it as a reference point.  

The possibilities of the guitar’s sound are really vast even within the realms of traditional bracing, let alone lattice braced guitars, double top guitars and other potential future innovations. My upcoming guitar which is being polished now, is borne out of a meeting with guitar maker Paul Fischer. Over a year ago now, I showed him a guitar as well as a plan of the bracing. We talked it through together and agreed on some changes. I'm really looking forward to hearing this guitar. And so the guitar making journey and quest to find the ideal sound continues.

Finalist in the Antonio Marin Montero Guitar Making Competition, in Granada, Spain and recalling two other competitions

Recently I was a finalist in an international guitar making competition, in Granada, Spain. I've been to several guitar making competitions over the years. Usually, people are surprised to hear that guitar making competitions exist, but a tradition of such competitions permeates through the history of the instrument making crafts. On the labels of many older guitar makers, are often illustrations of medals they’ve won at such competitions. At such an event, guitar makers will bring their best work, probably built at some point over the previous year. The guitars are then judged, usually by playing the same pieces on each guitar and comparing them, over several days. 

I attended two guitar making competitions as a very new guitar maker and one more recently. I think new guitar makers often seek out competitions as a form of affirmation and encouragement for the work they're doing. I think I had the right attitude - that I was there to learn, improve and soak up as much information as possible -  and I did indeed learn a great deal. 

The first competition I went to was in Malta. Funnily enough, it was mostly a violin making competition although with a category for guitars too. I took one of my first guitars. I got a bronze medal for it, and it was overall a good experience. More than anything I enjoyed meeting the other instrument makers there, particularly the violin makers. I was in my early twenties and a beginner. Whereas they were mostly young professionals in their late twenties/early thirties, from all around the world. It was interesting to see their ambition, their craftsmanship. I liked the professional way they presented themselves. I was particularly impressed by one violin maker who had made and brought with him a whole string quartet to be judged. I recall having a pizza dinner with a group of Italian violin makers and occasionally drop by their Instagram to see their latest violins.

Shortly after that competition in Malta, I went to one in Granada, Spain. This competition was a real game changer for me as a guitar maker. I got to discover Granada, the home of the guitar, see flamenco performances, discover Spanish culture, observe the high level of the guitars by other makers, and speak to guitar makers from all around the world. The standard of guitars there was truly incredibly high. I enjoyed a long conversation with one of the judges Yuris Zeltins, in which apart from many insights into and tips about the guitar making world, he also spoke about how crazy people are who want to make guitars, and also about how he was getting old and mortality in general. I also enjoyed meeting John Ray, whose blog on guitar making I enjoyed reading. On departing Spain after that competition, I resolved to work hard and raise the standard of my guitars up and beyond what I'd seen in Spain, and perhaps one day come back and present a guitar I’d be truly proud of.

Finally, years later, this summer, I returned to that competition in Granada. It's called the Antonio Marin Montero Competition by the way. I’m pleased to say that I was completely delighted with the instrument, and it reached the finals. I was happy with this result and again I learned a great deal from the experience. In Granada, there is a great community of master guitar makers. A situation very different to the UK, where everyone is quite spread out. It was great to be among those makers for a short time and hope I can incorporate all I've learnt there into my future guitars.

A Flamenco Guitar Show in Prague, at Cafe Lajka with guitarists Filip Zubák, Kamil Ďurana and Anička Heldenburg

Recently I went on a mission to Prague to discover the classical/flamenco guitar culture of another country. In the modern age it feels like the whole world is within reach. Planning this trip, I found concerts on four back to back nights in Prague, a Štěpán Rak concert, a guitar orchestra, and then two flamenco performances. So I took a guitar and set off. The most interesting concert to describe is the last one I went to, so I will focus on that in this post. 

Some background I already knew about the Czech Republic before the trip, regarding guitars, is that they have schools there called “umělecké školy”/”art schools where every child learns an instrument from a young age. Then they have about 15 conservatoires and several more music universities. Therefore, there is an ever emerging crop of talented musicians. However, they only have a few guitar makers and don't have any shops which stock hand made guitars. So it seems like there is less of a culture of handmade instruments than in the UK. I wasn't sure whether this indicated a gap in the market or a lack of demand.

Cafe Lajka

The last concert I went to was a flamenco concert. I was excited because the guitar I'd brought with me was a flamenco guitar, and there would be three guitarists there, as well as three dancers and a singer. I had been in Prague long enough at that point to be used to the trams and the metro, and I travelled easily across the city to Cafe Lajka, where this performance was to take place. On that night the temperature was to reach a chilly -12 and the pavements were completely covered in ice, a thick layer of frozen snow. Café Lajka was a trendy looking cafe/brewery, and had an intimate second room where the flamenco show was held. 

The intimate feel of the room reminded me of the first flamenco show I ever went to, in a bar in Valencia. Here in Prague, I was sitting in the back corner next to a piano and I had invited a friend along with me. I don't know what I had been expecting from the flamenco show, but what I discovered was something so unbelievably authentic, with such a high level of every element, that I felt as if I was in Spain. I think the rest of the Czech audience must have been as blown away as I was.

The guitarists clearly had a great passion for flamenco guitar. There was a player, Filip Zubák, who was a real virtuoso. He had a solo Granaina which was really beautiful. I will be watching out for his work in future. I spoke to him after the concert and he mentioned he was studying at a conservatoire in Prague and in his final year, or just completed his final year. I didn't catch everything he said, as my Czech is fairly bad. The second and also enormously talented guitarist was Kamil Ďurana, who also teaches flamenco and plays a flamenco guitar by a Czech luthier Petr Vančata, which was interesting to see and hear. The final guitarist was Anička Heldenburg. She opened the concert and also joined in again later on. She played beautifully and I hope the future has lots more guitar playing in store for her, as she not only plays brilliantly, but is only 10 years old. I suspect she may be one of Kamil’s students, and maybe goes to one of those “umělecké školy”. I was able to speak to Anička’s mum after the concert, and Anička tried my flamenco guitar.

What a lovely experience. The whole performance had an energy to it that makes me really hope to see them even though they're all the way in Prague. 

As at this concert, sometimes I bring along a guitar to things like this to show the guitarists my work, or anyone interested in the audience. This is quite an art. Every time I do it, I think of the guitar maker David Rubio. When I started studying guitar making, I read Paul Fisher's book called Let the Wood Speak, and later met Paul Fischer in person, and in both cases he described David Rubio’s ability to confidently talk about, showcase, and sell his instruments. When I go to such events I try to channel my inner Rubio. This time it was made much easier by having a second person with me.

I had wished for snow before travelling to Prague and Prague certainly delivered. It proved an interesting challenge to juggle the humidity and temperature, while looking after the guitar and all the while trying not to slip over on the ice! The other concerts proved interesting too. After the guitar orchestra, I was able to speak with a few guitarists. It was difficult to just turn up and show my guitar to everyone unannounced (I only spoke to a couple of guitarists - I think David Rubio would have managed better!). However, the guitarists I spoke to gave me some feedback on the guitar, and I got some information on where Czech guitarists usually buy their instruments. 

My Czech friend and I met up with another Czech language learner, one who lives in Prague. One of the things she said regarding Czech culture is that the more “underground” something is, the more Czechs seem to be interested in it. Hopefully, the idea of a guitar maker from distant England is romantic and underground enough, that one day I might be able to get some of my guitars into Czech hands. 

Listening to audiobooks while working

When I first started building guitars, I discovered a life-hack which allowed me to work more hours without feeling particularly tired or bored, and would make me feel excited to get up in the morning for work. This was listening to audiobooks while working. It is probably a life hack only applicable to certain types of work, but I imagine it could be useful for an artist, perhaps a guitarist practising their technique, particular tasks in any job which don’t require too much problem solving, or just anyone who can divide their attention between two things. Somehow my brain can’t manage to listen and build guitars these days, but I did it for several years and think back fondly on my audiobook days.

I found that there were certain criteria as to what makes an audiobook suitable to listen to while working. One is the length; if you’re going to be listening regularly while working, or perhaps running or driving, you’ll be burning through audiobooks quite fast. If you choose short books, you might be having to choose a new audiobook everyday, and would be faced with the dreaded post-book blues more often than necessary! Therefore long books are better, or a long series. Another thing to watch out for is the style/structure of writing; constant large leaps in time, geographical location or constant introductions of new point-of-view characters, tends to make the mind wander. And the pacing is important too; slower is better as having a chaotic action book would tend to be more distracting than helpful while working. If this sounds like a suitable like hack to you, here are some audiobooks to get started.

1. In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust - For me, this is the ultimate audiobook to listen to while working. In fact, it might be the only way to read this book. It’s extremely huge, and the plot almost non-existent, however it’s made up of gloriously constructed sentences and ridiculously on-point observations about people, humanity and the world in general. It was recommended to me by my brother, whom at one time I would constantly be asking for the next audiobook recommendation, “and it has to be long, please!” He didn't let me down, this is like the longest book ever, and made me look forward to work every day for a long time.

2. The Musketeers Books and The Count of Monte Cristo - The Musketeers books follow the whole working life of the musketeer d’Artagnan. The author had a gift for the dramatic. He had a knack for building tension in his scenes, often in a funny or dramatic way, and the payoff would always be brilliant. The series is long and it is apparent the author also has a gift for ‘form’ in writing; the overarching story arch and development of each character over their lives is so brilliantly thought out. I loved how the main characters of this story weren’t really heroes, and the villains weren’t really villains; everyone was grey as in real life.

3. The James Bond books by Ian Fleming - These are short entertaining books, each could be listened to in a day. They are well written and certain scenes have stuck in my mind after many years. My favourite stories were Moonraker in which I discovered a tenderer side to Bond, and You Only Live Twice, in which Bond is on a mission for revenge in Japan. The series is outdated, in that the main character Bond is an Englishman from the 50s and sometimes you can really tell, but the books are fun to read and I would recommend them.

4. Terry Pratchett’s Discworld - These are the books that taught me it's completely OK to not be completely normal. Terry Pratchett created a huge cast of weird, ugly but fantastic characters and the books contain brilliant insights about people and the world, often in a humorous light. These books are short enough that I could listen to one in a couple of days. But there are almost 40 discworld books, so plenty of material, and time to watch the various characters grow, or not, over time.

5. The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson - This is a great book to listen to. It's so long, probably around 60 hours, with a number of sequels. And the prose is fairly simple, with not so many POV characters that it gets distracting. It's so easy to listen to and entertaining. It’s fantasy, so you can get lost in a completely new world. Somehow, the way it's written, it sometimes feels like an anime. With Brandon Sanderson books, you always get an amazing climax, but in The Way of Kings, it's particularly good.

Flamenco guitars and music. The differences between classical and flamenco guitars

I remember a time when I had never heard of flamenco music, and didn’t know that flamenco guitars existed. This all changed when I began to build guitars; I started to occasionally travel to Spain, and began to seek out different types of guitar music. I think that it’s quite a normal thing for anyone outside of Spain, to not know much about flamenco music or guitars. Therefore, I thought it would be worth writing this post about it, as there is a huge catalogue of excellent flamenco guitar music, and also some beautiful flamenco guitars, which as I will explain, can also be used for classical music.

Differences between classical and flamenco guitars:

A big differences between flamenco and classical guitars are firstly the woods used. Traditionally, cypress is used for the back and sides. It’s a very light wood and gives a different sound to rosewood. Cypress was initially used because flamenco guitars are folk instruments, and cypress was cheap and easily available in Spain. Nowadays it's not cheap, but it’s still used because it can give that distinctive flamenco sound. Having said that, you can find flamenco guitars in a variety of woods. Mostly cypress and then rosewood. My most recent flamenco has flamed maple.

Another difference is that flamenco guitars have their strings lower. The action is lower over the fretboard and the strings are also lower at the bridge. Flamenco players need the lower string height to execute particular flamenco techniques.  I aim for around 2.5/3mm at the 12th fret, whereas a classical guitar has an action of 3/4mm at the 12th fret. Some classical players like it even higher, however many like it lower too, and for them flamenco guitars are particularly comfortable. Sometimes, a player crosses over to the classical guitar, after initially learning to play electric or steel string, and they are horrified to discover the high action on classical guitars. For them, flamenco guitars should be considered too.

Flamenco players are seeking a different sound and have different priorities to classical players. Having said that, that doesn’t mean a flamenco guitar won’t be suitable for classical music. Flamenco right hand technique is so different - for one they play a lot closer to the bridge - that if a flamenco player were to play on a guitar, and then a classical player on the same guitar, it would be as if they were playing on two different instruments.

Flamenco guitars have a golpeador, a thin plastic sheet glued to the soundboard, allowing the player to strike the soundboard as he plays, a traditional flamenco technique. The golpeador doesn’t affect the sound, and may come as a relief to classical players who have struggled with dings on a french polished soundboard. I also think that in general flamenco guitarists have a different attitude regarding the finish of guitars; in the classical world, French polish is king, whereas in the flamenco world, generally lacquer is equally accepted. Usually on my instruments, I French polish and lacquer the back and sides. I’ve seen many classical concert guitarists use soundboard protectors that are basically the same as a golpeador, in order to protect the soundboard from general wear and tear.

My Flamenco Experience

The first flamenco guitar I built was almost by accident. I was building a batch of guitars, based on different plans in a guitar making book called “Making Master Guitars” by Roy Courtnall. One of those plans happened to be of a Santos Hernandez guitar, with cypress back and sides. It turned out extremely well - even though at that time I knew almost nothing of flamenco music - so well that I continue to develop my guitars, inspired by that initial plan.

My first actual flamenco experience came on a trip to a tonewood supplier in Valencia, where I saw a flamenco show. It was a great experience, with an incredible dancer and singers. It also turned out that the tonewood supplier loved flamenco music and recommended me the best guitarists to check out.

I started listening to more flamenco music. Flamenco music is Spanish folk music, the lyrics usually about love and usually the singers and dancers take centre stage rather than the guitar. I would build a flamenco guitar from time to time. When showing guitarists my work, I found it interesting that classical guitarists also found these flamenco guitars suitable, and have sold a number of flamenco guitars to classical guitarists who want another guitar with a different flavour. 

There was a flamenco guitar I built during lockdown; I was delighted with it and I gave it to several players to try. Due to covid fears, I would drop the guitar off, leave the guitar for a week or so, then pick it back up. It was a fantastic way to get feedback as it gave the players time to really get to know the instrument. The most useful feedback came from a brilliant flamenco player called Tomas Jimenez. He had the guitar for a week or so, and brilliantly he also had three Gerundino guitars - a famous flamenco luthier - so had the best possible point of comparison. In the end I sold that guitar to a player in San Francisco. 

Most recently, I built a flamenco guitar for the Antonio Marin Montero Competition in Granada in the summer of 2023. Rather than the usual cypress, I used flamed maple for the back and sides. I also used the highly decorative wood snakewood in this instrument. I had been given some tonewood from a retiring luthier that had been in his workshop for about 20 years. He himself had gotten the flamed maple from a retiring cello maker, so I really wanted to make a special instrument with it. 

With this foundation I’m looking forward to building many more flamenco guitars of the highest quality. See below for a useful video on this topic from Madera Guitars, a guitar dealer.

The Guitarist Stepan Rak

In September last year, I started learning Czech, in order to speak to people at a friend's wedding scheduled the following year. At that time, I was working extremely hard on my guitars, often working all day but somehow unable to switch off in the evenings. However, when I started learning Czech, it gave my mind something else other than guitars to focus on, and helped me relax. Very soon, I was rewarded for my efforts. I found a truly extraordinary Czech guitarist called Stepan Rak.

One day I was scrolling through facebook, and I noticed a video of a guitarist and the description was in Czech. So I watched the video and thought, “Wow, what a great guitarist!” and then just went on with my day. However, not long after, he appeared on my facebook again, and again I thought his guitar playing was incredible, so I looked up who he was and discovered that he is perhaps the most prominent player guitar player in the Czech Republic. I became obsessed with his piece, Song for David, and it really impressed me that he wrote his own, really fantastic, compositions, because usually classical guitarists don’t compose too. 

As I delved deeper into Stepan Rak’s work, I realized that I had discovered a true treasure. Behind him is a whole lifetime of fantastic guitar music. Not only that, but he has a distinctive style, which he has cultivated and brought to a state of mastery. Sometimes you come across an artist who is truly authentic, with the skill and conviction to develop their own voice. This is what I feel listening to his guitar playing. It really inspires me; I hope I can achieve a level of artistry close to that in my guitar making.

Interestingly, I visited a guitar maker named Rik Middleton at the beginning of the year for some guidance on guitar making. I mentioned that I had begun learning Czech and that I’d discovered a guitarist named Stepan Rak. Rik told me that he’d met Stepan; that he’d gone to one of his concerts in England about 25 years ago and showed him a guitar he’d made. Rik recalled that they were about the same age, and that Stepan made his instrument sound really good. He said that at that time, Stepan’s methods were considered quite controversial among classical guitar aficionados at that time. He also mentioned that Stepan had an interesting knack of being able to play with his fingernails or with the flesh of his fingers as desired. Hearing Rik recall his encounter with Stepan reminded me of various times I’ve gone to concerts and asked players for feedback too. 

The feeling I get from Stepan Rak’s compositions is that he really deeply understands the guitar. So far, I’ve only gotten the same feeling from one other guitar composer, and that’s Augustin Barrios, whose compositions have a similar life and movement to them. I very much hope to attend a Stepan Rak concert one day and perhaps get some feedback on one of my guitars. This is an actual possibility as Stepan is still extremely active giving concerts around the Czech Republic.

Above are some pictures I took on a trip to Prague and Karlovy Vary. As far as I understand, there was once quite a big industry of instrument making in the Czech Republic, particularly in the west. They were known for making guitars, violins, pianos etc. An interesting situation around the wood there, is that previously they would use Czech spruce for their instruments, but it looks like it was used until all the suitable wood for instrument making was gone. They have about 15 conservatoires around the country. Certainly there are enough classical guitar related things going on to keep me occupied if I visit again.

About a film, Bakemono, by Tristan Nelson

A rare blog post that isn’t solely about guitars. Here is a newly released short film by a very talented fellow Bedford-based creator called Tristan Nelson. It’s a powerful film about parental love. The overall style and feel of the film, including the score which I love, feels extremely refreshing; watching it is like reading a good poem, it feels like balm for the brain. 

Having for a few years felt tired of blockbusters and Netflix series that I would previously binge like empty calories, I eventually discovered the filmmakers Kurosawa and Tarkovsky, who were more thought provoking and somehow left more to the imagination. In this film, Bakemono, much about a father and son’s relationship is left unsaid. It’s definitely sad and and the main character relatable. I’d absolutely recommend watching it.

A few years back, I actually made a guitar for the creator of this film. I had been building guitars several years at this point but only just starting to build guitars that I was really happy with. With this guitar, everything seemed to come together and it was perhaps the first time I experienced the great sense of pride in creating a guitar I had no reservations about. 

A great experience but also quite confusing, as the guitar was a steel-string and my interest lay solely in classicals and flamencos. I had toiled for years to learn to build the finest classical guitars, only for my work to culminate in this great steel string guitar! I think now that I was just a lot more critical regarding my classical and flamenco guitars. I cared more about them, and knew more about what I want to achieve. Happily, since that time, I have gone on to build many classical and flamenco guitars where I’ve gotten that great feeling of pride of a job masterfully done, and these days it comes with every guitar.

Back to Tristan, he also created a great short film called Moments about four years ago which I recommend too. You can find his work on his website: lovecabinfilms.co.uk

At what humidity should I keep my classical guitar?

I obsess about humidity, in a good way. I’m not sure when this started, perhaps when making my first guitars, but at some point in my guitar making journey, the importance of humility control was drilled into me. Humidity regarding woodwork is an interesting and nuanced topic. Being well informed about humidity means you understand and respect your guitar better, and this knowledge really makes guitars and even other wooden things, seem more alive. I will write about humidity in general first, then my advice to guitarists, and finally about my own humidity journey.

Wood and humidity:

Wood adjusts/expands/contracts to the relative humidity (RH). There is another measurement of humidity called ‘absolute humidity’, however this isn’t relevant to woodwork.The RH is the amount of water in the air, relative to the air temperature’s ability to hold water. Guitar makers usually build around 45-50% RH, so there’s leeway for the wood to expand and shrink in wetter or dryer environments. If a guitar was made a 90% RH and travelled to a drier environment, the wood would shrink so much that it would crack, and the opposite situation would cause problems too. 

Different species of wood move in different ways. For example, Indian Rosewood is particularly stable. I’ve noticed maple tends to expand and contract quite a lot, though without cracking. Brazilian rosewood has a reputation for cracking a lot (ie, see an earlier post with pictures of a 100 year old Arias guitar of brazilian rosewood). There is a wood called Cocobolo that I was advised by London Guitar Studio against using, as it’s gonna crack. Cedar tends to move less than spruce. The beautiful wood called snakewood moves unpredictably and cracks, so is usually reserved for small decorative functions such as the binding. Ebony has a reputation for shrinking forever, which can cause cracks along the side of the fretboard, so must be extensively dried before use.

Showing how different cuts of wood move in different ways.

Within these species, individual pieces of wood can have different levels of hygroscopicity. In a book for intermediate luthiers, Daniel Friedrich recommended testing soundboards for their levels of hygroscopicity, and using those examples less prone to absorbing water for the guitars destined for tropical places.

It is also important for guitar makers, and also players when buying a guitar, to consider the cut of the wood. If the wood is quarter-sawn, it expands and contracts in a more predictable way, and only half as much across its width, than plain-sawn/ flat-sawn wood (recognisable by more elaborate grain patterns).

Advice to guitarists regarding humidity:

It is important to take all these things into consideration as a guitar is made up of many individual small pieces of wood of many different species. The guitar is expanding and contracting, each species of wood at different rates, in the worst cases each piece perhaps pulling in different directions or twisting. This is why it is important to keep your guitar in a stable environment, keep an eye on the RH, and take the type of wood into consideration when you buy a guitar.

The first step is to buy a hydrometer so you at least know what the RH is. Then basic measures such as not storing your guitar near heaters, drafts can be taken. Keeping your guitar in its case is a good option as it’s easier to control the humidity in that small space. I do this, and I use D’addario’s Two Way Dehumidification kit or something similar, to keep the humidity in the case at 45%. If you have a room where you keep all your instruments, I’d recommend getting either a humidifier or dehumidifier depending on your situation. 

Many of the factors regarding humidity which make life easier or harder for you as a player, are actually in the control of the luthier. But by keeping the guitar in a stable environment and not exposing it to extremes, you will be limiting any problems and keeping your guitar happy.

Some cracks visible on this Brazilian Rosewood Vicente Arias guitar. If using a wood that may crack one day, it’s also worth bearing the finish in mind. For example, it may be better to French polish it, rather than using a conversion varnish which would result in an uglier repair.

My dehumidification journey:

I work in England. For most of the year the RH rises to about 90% at night and falls throughout the day to about 60% in the evening. I’ve been tracking the humidity religiously for about 7 years so don’t need to look those figures up. Therefore, in England, regarding humidity, unless you have your central heating on all the time, it’s usually a matter of dehumidification.

When I was studying guitar making, I was sixteen, and I rented a workshop, as my course was only two days a week and I wanted to be working all the time. However, this workshop wasn’t the most suitable; a concrete floor, the thinnest brick walls and single glaze windows, and freezing cold in the winter. I bought an industrial dehumidifier; the thing was big and loud and due to the large size of the room and nature of the walls and windows, the effort was quite futile.

The next workshop when I was 22, was also quite unsuitable as far as humidity went. However, this time I built a cupboard, which was airtight. I put a small dehumidifier inside and stored everything in there when I wasn’t working on it. Not a perfect solution, but an improvement. 

For the next workshop, keen to have a handle on the humidity, I bought an expensive dehumidifier from the brand Maeco. I had it running all the time to get an RH of 45%. And I do the same thing in my current workshop. The dehumidifier is running literally all the time. It’s not loud but I must say there are times when I would prefer silence and the hum of the dehumidifier sounds like a roar. However, for the sake of my guitars, it’s a small sacrifice that I’m more than willing to make.

Two Zoe Barnett guitar concerts, in Ampthill and Bedford

I went to two concerts last year of the classical guitarist Zoe Barnett. She is a young guitarist and I believe studied or is studying at the Royal College of Music in London and also is very active, doing concerts all around the UK. I live in Bedford and classical guitar concerts happen only a few times a year, so when I saw a one scheduled not too far away in a town called Amptill, I excitedly decided to go. At that time I was working on a prototype guitar, one of the first examples of a design I’m hoping to finalise next year, and I took it with me, hoping to get some feedback.

I had never been to Amptill, but having a habit of arriving to a place a little early, to get my bearings, I got an earlier bus and went for a walk around. It seemed nice, though perhaps too much so, bordering on Hot Fuzz vibes. The concert was in a church and was pretty full with an audience of both young and old and there were overall good vibes. The concert was held by ‘Katherine Concerts’, who organize weekly classical concerts there throughout the year.

I remember feeling that the guitarist Zoe Barnett was clearly extremely talented with great musicality, and I liked the pacing of the programme, which if I recall correctly included two pieces I knew; a piece by Manuel Ponce and Suite Compostelana by Frederic Mompou - and the rest was new to me. I also liked the sound of her guitar, which was spruce with maple back and sides made by a luthier called Nick Bramwell. I guessed the guitar was probably quite traditionally and lightly made. I almost felt I could recognise the exact type of sound from my memory of guitars I had made myself with a similar construction, though perhaps I imagined it.

After the concert there was tea and cakes served in a room upstairs and most of the audience went up there. I sat and discussed music with people. The two people to my right were members of a choir, which was great because I love choral music. The person to my left was an organist, and so for the first time in my life I could discuss the organ composer Durufle with someone, and we agreed on a probable pronunciation for his name. I got the chance to show Zoe the guitar I had made, and got some valuable feedback. I like the thought that the sound of my guitars are shaped by talented guitarists. I find it useful to get the thoughts of as many talented musicians as possible. Opinions on the sound of a guitar of course vary, but sometimes trends appear in their feedback, which is useful. For example, regarding my earlier guitars, players often commented that they weren’t too loud, although the tone was there.

Luckily and to my great delight, Zoe had another concert scheduled in Bedford the next month. This was a lunchtime recital at the church called St Pauls. I have a friend who who works near me; we often go on lunchtime walks, and we decided to go to the recital together, feeling like two extremely refined gentlemen to be attending a classical recital in the middle of the day, This concert had the same programme, but was different in that the hall was much bigger and this time the sound was amplified. It was done extremely well and sounded great, I think I even preferred it. I hope if my guitars are ever amplified, that it’s done in a similar way. It’s great to recall these two concerts and am looking forward to my next Zoe Barnett concert.

How I glue golpeadors onto flamenco guitars

This is quite a technical post. Recently, I showed another guitar maker one of my flamenco guitars, for feedback, and he asked me to write to him my method for gluing the golpeador. There are quite a few different methods.

A golpeador dries. In about 4 days this will be completely dry and transparent.

One method is to use a golpeador that you buy which is sticky on one side. I’ve always been too afraid to use this method as firstly they seem quite difficult to put on without leaving air bubbles. Secondly, once this kind of golpeaor is on, it’s really on and you can’t get them off again without damaging the french polish/lacquer below the golpeador. I’ve seen a few examples of golpeadors that have started to lift off, so they look untidy, and it would be better if they could be more easily replaced.

So the other option is to cut out your own golpeador from a sheet of suitable material, and glue it on. There are a variety of glues available which each have different advantages; epoxy, elmers, titebond. I’ve always used Elmers, as it is the most reversable option. When I needed to glue on my first golpeador, I did some looking around online and found the method with Elmers described by luthier Stephen Faulk, and discovered that luthier Lester Devoe uses the same method. The process below is that method but with more information based on my experience and various mistakes I’ve made.

I lightly sanded the underside of this golpeador and the surface of the finish below with 1200 (or 800 grit) to ensure a strong bond. However, for me this results in a slightly less transparent golpeador, and so I don’t tend to do it anymore.

There is also a choice to be made regarding the material used. I’ve used plastic sheets labelled as ‘acetate’ and also ‘PVC’. The usual thickness for a golpeador is between 0.010” and 0.015”. . I’ve used both and the former is on the verge of seeming too thin and that latter on the verge of seeming too thick. What is right depends on the flamenco player and I don’t think the thickness of the golpeador, within these bounds, affects the sound. Sometimes these plastic sheets are measured in microns; 0.010” is about 250 microns.

Another advantage to cutting out your own golpeador rather than buying one, is that you have more control over the shape. You can decide whether the golpeador goes over the rosette, partially covers it or not at all. Some flamenco players like the golpeador to extend further up towards the neck on the bass side. The golpe shape is very personal to the flamenco player.

Here are the notes I sent the luthier. For me, the method results in a crystal clear golpeador which can one day be replaced without damage to the finish below.

• Cut out the desired golpe shape

• Use 800 grade sandpaper on the edges to remove any burr along the edges.

• It's not necessary to sand the underside of the golpe or to sand the finish under the golpe (if you do the resulting golpe is slightly less clear/transparent).

• Get as much dust/lint off the gluing face of the golpe

• Squirt on just enough elmers glue so that when the glue is spread the golpe will be covered (using too much is messier and the golpe is slower to dry)

• Put the golpe in position and use something like a squeegee to push out all the air bubbles/lint and cleaning the excess as well as possible in the process. Whatever you use, ei. squeegee, be careful it doesn't scratch the golpe.

• After about 30 mins/1 hour it's worth checking back and getting rid of any extra air bubbles.

• For the first 12, perhaps 24 hours I periodically check along the edges in case a corner pulls up; within this time, the glue under the golpe should still be wet enough to squeegee into the lifted area. Doing that beyond the first 12 hours just causes problems as the glue has started drying. And it's not possible to push glue into a lifted corner from the outside, it just makes things worse.

• It dries better the warmer it is.

• Any remaining excess glue is best cleaning up when the golpe is dry. Elmers glue is easy to clean up with a damp cloth.

• It should take about 4 days to completely dry. 

• It's easy to get obsessed about a small pull up somewhere along the edge, air bubble or piece of lint. I sometimes have a small pull up somewhere.

• If it needs to be redone/replaced, the golpe can be carefully peeled off and the elmers glue removed from the guitar with a damp cloth. Then I would wait until the next day to reapply to make sure any moisture is gone. I once became obsessed with getting it perfect and removed and reapplied a golpe about 4 times. The finish was lacquer; I haven't tried removing it yet from french polish, though I’d have no qualms doing so.

• Another time it took over two weeks to dry. That was on french polish where I suspect some oil remained in the finish, and the temperature was about 18 degrees.