Tour Gretsch’s Corona, California, custom guitar building operation with company master builder Chad Henrichsen and PG’s own John Bohlinger.
“We get a lot done in a small amount of space, but this is where it all happens,” Henrichsen says. It starts with the wood—mahogany, maple, and spruce body blanks; mahogany and maple neck blanks; rosewood for fretboards—and so does our tour. It also begins, of course, with specific orders from dealers, artists, and individual players, commissioning instruments."
Henrichsen describes Gretsch's process of making hollow- and semi-hollowbody guitars first, which uses pressure and heat to form tops and sides from wood laminate. The plant also uses old-school craftsmanship—a copy carver, for example—to cut wood tops and more to shape.
One of Henrichsen’s fortes is necks, so he explains the process of creating necks for Falcons, Duo Jets, 6120s, etc., in detail, and we see the neck shaper machine in operation. The evolution from wooden block to smooth, finished neck is fascinating! And some of the machinery, jigs, and other tools are older than your Uncle Billy. After inlays comes binding—gold sparkle for a Penguin, white for a Duo Jet, for example. And, by the way, all work in the Custom Shop is done by hand.
Master builder Gonzalo Madrigal makes a cameo to explain the step-by-step process of fitting a guitar’s neck to its body. The example here is one of the super-colorful, intergalactically shaped Billy-Bo models—half Diddley and half Gibbons. Madrigal also displays the process of setting a tortoise shell binding in place—a method that takes about 45 minutes overall, and then must sit to set.
In the final assembly department, we see a 12-string Country Gentleman turning to life—tuners, bridge, electronics, tailpieces and everything else comes home to roost. The grand finale? Dig a killer 3-pickup Penguin in a black paisley finish with Super’Trons, cats-eye f-holes, and a Bigsby. It’s gorgeous! And, in a sense, the culmination of Gretsch’s 140-year history of craftsmanship.
Data-based building is nothing new in the acoustic-guitar world, but its impact continues to grow.
When I first took my stab at lutherie, I mostly did maintenance work. Fret work, bone nuts and saddles, and basic setups made up the bulk of my daily agenda. I was exposed to many great guitars, both acoustic and electric. And even though I played electrics out on the gig, my primary interest was always acoustic guitars. I was just obsessed with figuring out what made them tick. Once I moved into instrument making, I found it difficult to produce the concert-level quality instruments I had become so accustomed to in my repair days. I was inspired to take a more analytic approach to instrument making, which was ultimately an attempt to tighten-up the consistency, tone, and overall playing experience for my customers.
The science of instrument making is an extraordinarily interesting world. My studies began with basic data collecting, such as material strength and weights, until I eventually developed a spreadsheet to better track my builds and improve the sound quality of my guitars. Eventually, this approach introduced me to a whole culture of scientists and engineers that were pursuing the same passion, and they were very open to the exchange of information. This solidified my commitment to the field of voicing science, and vastly improved the quality of my instruments.
What we are experiencing today is an explosion in the study of sound. This is a revolution that has been decades in the making.
Over time, these methods have picked up steam, with most of today’s hand-builders adopting some level of voicing science to improve the outcome of their instruments. In the end, all of this is an attempt to unlock the methods of the finest luthiers, such as the violin makers building in the European tradition, makers such as Lloyd Loar, or even the Martin Guitar Company’s contributions from the mid-to-late 1930s.
But what we are experiencing today is an explosion in the study of sound. This is a revolution that has been decades in the making. My first exposure was in the ’90s when I met a classical guitar maker by the name of Richard Schneider, who worked alongside a physical chemist named Michael Kasha, who was not a luthier himself. Together, they teamed up and made many advancements in the science of sound. Another major push was the book Left-Brain Lutherie written by David C. Hurd, Ph.D. This is a great think-book that put most modern luthiers on the path of analytical guitar making. In our shop, this book was on the bench constantly, as it helped us maneuver through many tough questions about instrument acoustics. Most recently, Australian luthier Trevor Gore published Contemporary Acoustic Guitar Design and Build, which has been a go-to for most modern luthiers. Trevor is a talented builder, and his contributions will inspire many others to come.
Precision building is crucial for the best, most harmonically rich tops.
But what does this mean to you, the player? This is the question. In the early ’90s, us builders noticed a major improvement in the quality of builds in the micro-building market. This was mostly due to groups such as the Guild of American Luthiers and the Healdsburg Guitar Festival. These groups offered a platform for guitar makers to compare notes, and this information exchange vastly improved the qualities of their builds. About five years after that, we all noticed everyone’s building style and finish went through a major transformation. This illustrates why the dawn of voicing science is so important—the exchange of science and information improves instrument quality for everyone. This is what is happening now. All the serious makers are currently implementing techniques set into motion by the research of the past 40 years and are sharing their findings with the world.
These days, I am noticing a major improvement in the tone and the stability of acoustic instruments. One builder who stands out in my mind is Colorado luthier Michael Bashkin, whose OM classical guitar is a major play for tonal excellence. So, for you the guitar buyer, this is a very good time to be shopping around the custom-guitar market. There is no doubt we are experiencing the next level in guitar making. And it will only get better.
Luthier Maegen Wells recalls the moment she fell in love with the archtop and how it changed her world.
The archtop guitar is one of the greatest loves of my life, and over time it’s become clear that our tale is perhaps an unlikely one. I showed up late to the archtop party, and it took a while to realize our pairing was atypical. I had no idea that I had fallen head-over-heels in love with everything about what’s commonly perceived as a “jazz guitar.” No clue whatsoever. And, to be honest, I kind of miss those days. But one can only hear the question, “Why do you want to build jazz guitars if you don’t play jazz?” so many times before starting to wonder what the hell everyone’s talking about.
Contrary to popular belief, archtop guitars have the potential to be some of the most versatile on the planet. Yet a huge corner of the music world insists on keeping them in a straitjacket. What’s up with that? Even as a little-girl player, I always felt archtops were the most beautiful guitars of them all. So beautiful that they were untouchable. I didn’t need someone to tell me I didn’t play the “right kind of music” to feel unworthy of them. But the word on the street was that archtops were meant for a very particular and sophisticated style of music.
This is not the guitar for you. I believed it. I could feel it. I am not worthy. Instead, I picked up an OM and headed down a very different musical path in life. Tying down the restraints not only on the archtop, but myself. Does this sound familiar?
This is not what music and guitars should do to us. So, who put this straitjacket on? Did I put it on myself? Did I put the archtop guitar in one? Are there others?! Help! How did this happen? I spent the next 11 years walking around in a singer/songwriter straitjacket. It wasn’t until I showed up at the Galloup School of Guitar Building and Repair that I was able to bust out of that thing with some chisels and gouges. It was there that I got my first glimpse at the archtop party.
The first private moment I had with my completed archtop, I was stunned to silence. My soul shifted, and there a song was found hiding—my very first instrumental fingerstyle piece.
My intentions were to be a flattop builder, but I was changed forever when my archtop construction began. Enthralled by the versatility of skills the process demanded, the woodworker in me was ignited. The experience of building a variety of guitars was why I wanted to take the Galloup Masters Program. With that came the experience of playing a variety of guitars that I normally would not play,which was equally educational and life changing—something that has now become essential to my musical inspiration.
The first private moment I had with my completed archtop, I was stunned to silence. My soul shifted, and there a song was found hiding—my very first instrumental fingerstyle piece. I was so hypnotized by the voice of this guitar that it launched me in a completely different musical direction. I did not sing another note for almost 7 years; this instrument’s voice was the only one I wanted to hear. It was everything I’ve ever wanted: acoustic, electric, sensitive, powerful, delicate, strong. Our love was effortless, and it found music living inside of me that I had no idea existed. Isn’t that what it’s all about?
I share this dusty story with you today because I know I’m not alone. There are others out there who have allowed the restraints to come between them and these remarkable instruments. Because at some point along the way, they were told they’re not supposed to do that with an archtop. I hear this all of the time. Whatever happened to just picking up a guitar, closing your eyes, and letting it pull something out of you? I’m not at all denying the fact that certain instruments excel with certain genres and styles of playing, but we can’t let that prevent us from exploring the things we’re curious about.You could be missing out on one of the great loves of your life.
I almost missed out on the archtop party, but thankfully I came in through the woodshop window. And I have good news: The others at this party are on a similar mission to free the archtop from its straitjacket. Not to mention, the music at this party is off the hook. Is there jazz? YES! But that’s not all—we have fingerstyle, honky-tonk, funk, blues, rock, weird space music, and everything else you’re not supposed to do on an archtop. With today’s premier archtop builders such as Danny Koentopp, Tim Frick, Wyatt Wilkie, LHT, Otto D’Ambrosio, or Retrograde, just to name a few, there is undoubtedly something for everyone to be inspired by.
This is your official invitation to the archtop party. Leave your straitjacket at the door and join us, ’cause an archtop party don’t stop.