Rick Toone | Luthier

Hunterdon County Tornado

You won't believe this. I almost don't believe it, myself.

Two hours after I posted last, I was in the shop when a tornado touched down about 60' away. Yes, you read that correctly.

Radar map of the clouds had indicated a severe thunderstorm due to pass just north of us, so I decided to enjoy the rain and ride out the weather in the new structure.

I first realized something was wrong when rain hit the west window, then rotated to the north windows. Then the east window. Then south. Wind patterns never swirl like that.

Unless.

As I watched, the sky became weirdly bright through the rain as hail pelted the siding and trees whipped and bent in the circular wind. Then it got dark. Green-gray dark. Huge mature sycamores, firs and maples flexed to a degree I never thought possible, opening up the sky.

The best way I can describe it to you is — I felt like a mouse in a washing machine.

I could hear the ripping and crashing of trees snapping, even above the roar of wind. The large walnut only a few feet away was flexing all the way to the roots. I stared as it gripped the soil, wondering if it was going to come down on top of me. I had realized what was happening at this point, and that there was a good chance I could be killed.

That realization took only an instant, replaced by acceptance and an open excitement — wonder — at the astonishing power of this force. My last thought at that moment was for my dog Josie, who I knew must be terrified in our house, only a few steps away. I was sorry she was alone.

EDITOR'S NOTE: Tricia was traveling, an hour distant.

We each wonder privately how we are going to die. What will happen at the end. How we will face our final moments. My realization is that I will face death with curiosity, the last in a lifetime of experiences.

My friend John Vereb had seen a tornado touch down in front of him while driving, about fifteen years ago. When I tried to describe my experience, he understood. He said:

"It's like the Finger of God coming down from the heavens. And you can't do anything about it."

When I told Monster about John's description, he took it one step farther:

"Actually, it's like God giving you the middle finger and sending a really clear message: 'Repent, Ye Sinner!'"

But, no divine revelation for me. Just bemusement that the National Weather Service has not classified this tornado as a "tornado" but only just a "funnel cloud" until confirming that it touched ground.

Pretty sure it did.

In the photos below (hours after the storm) I chose shots with friends and neighbors, to give some sense of scale. You might have to play "Where's Waldo?" on wide angles. I also tried to capture images of the effects of the swirling, twisting, wind patterns. Click to enlarge.

I am very pleased to report in my estimation the new luthier shop is a solid and very well built structure. Highly recommended for its tornado-proof qualities.

Breathe (Brett Garsed)

Just sitting here in the studio designing a new type of instrument bridge. It's whacked. I'm feeling manic. Big Sky on headphones and this song catches the mood perfectly. Come join me.

Headless Wiggle — Guitars & Basses

EDITOR'S NOTE: Because I've been playing carpenter for the past few weeks — building a dedicated lutherie shop — I am releasing pent-up posting energy in one sustained rampage. Two in one day, so far. Beware, Ye!

Ouch

Perusing recent comments I discovered an excellent series of questions and observations by Mats Eriksson. His thoughts are so good, they deserve a dedicated post. Let's drag them out into the light of day for some rousing discussion.

"I've discovered now — for good and for keeps — the following idiosyncrasies (ergonomic drawbacks, if you will) with ALL HEADLESS instruments, basses, guitars, Steinbergers, Kleins and whatever:

1. They (the neck) wiggle when playing.

2. They cause MY thumb (not someone else's) to bend a bit TOO awkwardly behind the neck and press unneccessary to countermeasure the neck from the fingers pressing the frets. Especially when playing the first frets, and mostly on bass. Causing pain and the joint insided the thumb to hurt occasionally. DeQuervains syndrome maybe. I don't know. This has occured recently."

I am not a headless player, at least not long-term. So I don't feel comfortable expressing an opinion on this biomechanical analysis. Intuitively Mats seems accurate.

Has anyone else experienced similar medical symptoms?

PHOTO: This gorgeous painting by Artemisia Gentileschi is fascinating because women painters were rare during the 1500-1600s and because of her graphic (feminist) portrayal of Judith Slaying Holofernes.

Wiggle and Bounce

So, why does this happen?

"Now, I promised some time back, that I would try to produce a video for explaining the wiggling bit of a headless instrument. It has not come through but I think I could guide you to do the following experiment yourself:

1. Take ANY HEADSTOCKED instrument. Light or heavy, Les Paul or acoustic, sit down and play. Now, just TRY to not use any thumb behind the neck at all times when try to play and fret normally. See how the neck moves towards you all of the time when pressing the frets? No?

2. Try the same on HEADLESS neck. Notice the difference? It's more easy to produce this wiggling thing with the neck on headless than on headstocked. It has a stronger LEVER principle causing it to bounce about! This causes me — and others — to miss certain strings, and whole chords, during intense playing, especially when switching fast between up and down the neck (and I do). Thus, a bit more force is then needed by the thumb on the back of the neck. Totally unnecessary from an ergonomic and R.S.I. standpoint if you'd ask me."

And also:

"Take notice, that the movement of the neck in our out is within 0.5 cm or less than a quarter of an inch. It is especially noticeable when using tapping techniques. But this headless 'wiggle' is starting to show itself the most from medium to high speed playing/tapping. I do think — and I have tried this — that a headstock COULD BE USED to counterbalance this LEVER principle. Although it can't be so heavy it makes the neck dive. Then it's totally counterproductive and goes the opposite direction. You don't even need to play. Just 'whack lightly' with your fingers on the fretboard and discover how little force is needed to make the neck move inwards by a great deal. Do the same on headstocked instrument. You have to use a much greater force with your fingers in order for the neck to move towards you. Considerably more than fretting any of the strings."

This is a very astute observation and I agree with Mats. He has pointed out the fulcrum (lever) action that happens when an instrument body — normally a flat plane — is balanced against a curved surface.

Pivot.

Salve for the Wound

There are three ways to counteract this problem, including:

• Counterweight the body by using a headstock. The additional mass (weight) at the headstock slows the reciprocal motion around the fulcrum. Dampens the neck pivot movement and makes it feel more stable. But it also causes the instrument's center of mass to shift closer to the headstock, with the unfortunate tendency to cause the neck to point toward the floor.

• Lock the body in place using a harness system. This technology is ripe for exploration. But it is still a band-aid on the fundamental problem of poor (ergonomic) instrument body design.

• Adapt the contour of the instrument body to fit the human body. The challenge with this is every person has a unique body shape as well as preferred position of play. There may not be one simple solution to this issue, but the video below will at least get you thinking.

Canton Guitar Photos

EDITOR'S NOTE: Faced with a potentially savage and violent insurrection perpetrated by our readership, the editorial staff at eLUTHERIE.org hereby yields to populist demands by publishing additional Canton/Smith photos in an attempt to avoid the consequences.

We realize we are merely your appointed representatives and therefore beholden to your wishes — including not selling you into debt slavery. Although it would be worth it for an excellent guitar.

Ahem.

Luthier's Shop

EDITOR'S NOTE: Update 7.28.2009 confirms the structure is also tornado-proof.

For the past two years — as I've transitioned from civilian life into full-time lutherie — I've shared a shop with my dad in the barn at Toone's Farm. Together we've built a great space, fully outfitted with climate control and power machines.

He's established a fine business researching and reproducing early American camp furnishings for private collectors and museums, including Mt. Vernon and the Smithsonian. From time to time I've helped him, but I'm far too busy with instruments at this point.

Time for a shop of my own.

A space dedicated to lutherie. Deliberately cozy, with all tools close at hand. Isolated and inspiring, backed up against nature. Lit by natural light. Walking distance from home.

I picked a site at the base of a mature walnut tree. The walnut provides shade during the summer months, except in the late afternoon, so the shop remains cool. A small creek flows a few feet away after it rains heavily. The building's primary windows face north to maximize even light — artist's light — during working hours. Windows in all walls for ventilation and illumination. I'm applying lessons learned from studying early American architecture archetypes.

I paid $2,200 cash (delivery included) for the structure, built by Amish carpenters in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Jake at J&L Crafts in Columbus, New Jersey, is their local representative, and he was fair and honest.

The quality of the building is exceptional. Thoughtful attention to detail and highly intelligent choices throughout, including premium lumber (12" centers), paint and 25-year shingles. Trust my word when I tell you I helped build a $4.5 million "weekend getaway" for the owner of the New York Times that was not nearly as well constructed.

No building permit required, as the square footage is 96. A smart person, seeking to shrug could easily outfit it with a wood stove and simply disappear from public record. Use a bicycle for transportation. Watch the financial idiocy burn itself out from a safe distance.

EDITOR'S NOTE: Have an opinion, Rick?

The photos below show progress over the past two weeks. The creek bed was filled with debris, as it had been used as a dump for some decades. Cleanup, step one. Also, the site was on a significant slope, which required substantial leveling.

Tricia (thank you) and I did all the work ourselves using a 100 year old wheelbarrow borrowed from Dad. Do not know how much total weight the old machine — and our backs — hauled, but 10 tons of 3/4" gravel form the foundation bed alone, not including dirt removal or rocks collected from the creek bed.

A very satisfying process to earn and own this experience.