Spirit Varnish for Violins

Today I mixed some new varnish, Apothecary style on a real old balance scale, with the traditional resins and gums. On the left scale you can see benzoe and mastix and on the right, sandarac. I'd already measured the shellac into the large glass jar which is flanked by gum elemi on the left and venetian turpentine. Behind is a 5l container of spirits, 99.7% ethanol to be exact.

Benzoe: is a balsamic resin which comes from one of several species of Styrax trees. It has the most wonderful smell, which is why I like to use it. So not surprsingly it is also used to make incense, and as a fixative in perfumery.

Mastix: comes from the sap of the tree pistacia lentiscus. As well as being one of the finer resins to use for violin varnish it is used as a culinary spice in Greece and Turkey, especially for sweets and desserts and is also a kind of natural chewing gum. Probably the best thing is to pick the resin drops straight off the tree, if you're going to use it as chewing gum, because I find that it tends to crumble in the mouth and then stick stickily on the teeth, but it has a lovely flavour and apparently soothes the stomach, absorbs cholesterol and reduces bacterial plaque (by 41,5% according to one study).

Sandarac: is a resin from North African tetraclinis articulata. It is one of the most important ingredients in varnish but also used as incense, a remedy for diarrhea, and calligraphers like to grind it up and sprinkle it on their parchments.

Shellac: is a resin which doesn't come directly from a tree, but via the alimentary canal of the female lac bug kerria lacca. The rather pale shellac that I use (there are many different colours) probably comes from the tree schleichera trijuga. It's fairly common knowledge that shellac is used as a varnish and as an ingredient in a french polish, but it is also known as food additive number E904 and used to replace the natural wax removed from apples during the cleaning process! It is also a low temperature fuel which allows for the creation of pures greens and blues in fireworks.

Gum elemi: This is a fragrant sticky mess which comes from the tree canarium luzonicum. It can been used to treat coughs and brochitis and in Arabic it means "as above, so below" suggesting that it works on the emotional and spiritual planes as well.

Venetian turpentine: is a variety of turpentine that comes from the Western Larch or larix occidentalis. Ordinary modern turpentine is a horrid stinky liquid used for cleaning brushes and things, but it has traditionally been used in medicine to treat wounds, lice and intestinal parasites and is still used as an ingredient in Vicks chest rub.

Very pretty when the jar is filled with alcohol and put in the window, though not for long as they all start to mix and dissolve and murkify. I'll stir it now and then and when I'm happy, filter it through an unbleached coffee filter to remove the insoluble bits.

So you want to know the secret of my varnish? The secret is that there is no secret. It's my own concoction based largely on what we used at school and I'm quite happy with the way it works. Here is the recipe:

  4 parts sandarac
  2 parts shellac
  1 part benzoe
  1 part mastix
  1 blob gum elemi
  1 blob venetian turpentine

Raising the saddle on a double bass to lessen the string angle.

A problem that you sometimes get with basses is that the angle of the strings at the bridge is too acute. This is idiosyncratic to the way the instrument, in particular the neck setting, has been constructed. The steeper the angle of the strings at the bridge, the more downwards pressure is exerted on the table. This can affect the tone and may result in a bigger, brighter sound which could be desirable, but it can also cause problems if the table is old, thin and/or pressure sensitive. One may also be looking for a warmer, more open response for orchestra playing.

The solution to this problem, if it is a problem, is to raise the height of the bottom saddle. There are a variety of ways to do this and many players are now looking for an adjustable saddle raiser which allows them flexibilty, for them to have more control over the instrument's sound. I have just had a bass in for that job and came up with the solution pictured above. I am quite pleased with the result: a simple, what they might call here in Sweden "funkis", design. It is made from an old piece of fingerboard, fitted exactly to the existing saddle, which has two invisible screws holding it in place. It sits loosely and may easily be removed should the player wish to return to the original setting. The pressure from the string tension here is quite enormous which means careful attention to the fitting and form of the saddle is essential. The laws of physics and mechanics (vectors) must be taken into consideration. The tailwire is made of a very strong, non-elastic cord, tied with a simple knot which can also be easily adjusted. This will be necessary when switching between the different saddles. 

Here you can see the adjusted string angles which sit nicely and evenly over the bridge.

Creative Problem Solving with Plaster Casts

The big project of the moment is correcting the arching of a bass table. It had had a bass bar that was fitted with with far too much tension causing the whole table to warp. The sound post side was also pushed up out of proportion. So I built a bass shaped container and made a plaster form of the table. After correcting the plaster form I needed to find a way of applying even pressure over the entire table. This is usually done with bags of sand, but hey, since mid november all the sand has been frozen under half a metre of snow. What to do? Hmmm....Pling!! Sugar is like sand.

When I started the business I got lots of advice about how I should put exactly everything that I buy through the business to save on tax. Well, I haven't actually done that in practice. Apart from not feeling entirely honest, it makes for a lot of boring bookkeeping, so things that I buy for the workshop go through the business, and the rest I pay for myself. I maybe the poorer for it but I do sleep well. Relevance? My brainwave was that I could buy loads of sugar to press in to my bass form and then afterwards take it home to make pretty christmas candy. 1. bass form (tick) 2. cosy family activity (tick) 3. edible christmas presents (tick)

This was just a test run, but I liked the look of the plastic bags filled with suspicious white powder. The actual procedure involved warming everything up with hot air, dampening the wood with hot water, layers of paper to absorb the moisture and then bags of sugar carefully arranged for even pressure (sugar has the added advantage of holding the heat well) and finally quantities of wood on the top for extra weight. Repeated several times.

After all that, I boiled up the sugar with food colouring.

Meeting Koussevitsky's old Double Bass

The other day I got to visit the orchestra at Konserthuset with my little bag of tricks. A new bass had just arrived and the bridge and sound post needed to be put back into place. Luckily that was simply done and I was able to spend a good long time admiring it together with its proud new owner.

This is no ordinary bass. It was once the property of the virtuoso Sergei Koussevitsky. Not to be confused with Gary Karr's alleged "Amati" which he got from Koussevitsky's widow, this "Tononi" is a much smaller instrument (string length 97cm, though you would never guess from looking at it). According to the seller there is no proof that it was in fact made by Tononi but it does in all likelihood come from Bologna around 1720. It certainly is a magnificent instrument and it has the most wonderful form and full arching which is not evident in this picture. Accompanying the instrument is some interesting documentation and I hope that its present owner will be able to piece together and bring to light a considerably more exciting story than what is presently available at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sergei_Koussevitzky

It was certainly a great privilege for me to be present when the first notes were played and I'm looking forward to making a new bridge for it in the new year.

Nice work if you can get it

Retouching varnish is sometimes one of my favorite jobs. On good days it can be very satisfying and I might be listening to something like this:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Vem1ZKnStU On bad days it is just frustrating and I'll be saying "oh please, won't you tell me how?"

My palette has amber, red, green and black colours which are mixed into a bit of spirit varnish - it's the closest I'll ever come to being an artist. I test the colour on my thumbnail and add more alcohol regularly with a pipette. Two things that I keep in mind are to aim for a slightly lighter colour than the surrounds and not to underestimate the amount of green necessary. A darker patch immediately draws the eye for some reason and a lot of bad retouch work has way too much red in it. I suppose because the idea of a red brown varnish is nicer than the idea of green brown, but maybe it's just because of colourblindness. Some people use blue but green is better because it is one of the primary colours of light and varnish has a lot to do with light. That's what makes it difficult. You're dealing not only with colour but refraction and reflection. Sometimes the retouched area will be the right colour if you look at it from one angle and completely wrong from another. Sometimes it ends up too shining. Sometimes it just disappears, like magic.

What is satisfying about retouching work is the variety of different approaches you can take, from how you prepare the wood underneath to how you mix the varnish, to aging the new varnish, blending it with the old. And you can get it, if you try.There are so many different colours and textures and depths and each instrument is unique. It's not about perfection either because the signs of age and weathering, the patina, the imperfections just enhance the character and beauty of an instrument. Being able to spend hours concentrating on little tiny details, your mind free to wander, and then when it's all done being able to step back and suddenly all those little eye catching wounds have become invisible and the underlying beauty of the instrument comes to the fore - that is nice work.