You Never Notice What’s All Around Until It Isn’t There
“You never notice whats all around until it isn’t there.”
I found myself locked in deep thought this morning while admiring a room full of guitars.
What if I had no guitars?
What if there were no luthiers?
How much do you appreciate your luthier?
Resting my bones in the dry comfort of the warm sun I unravel another Sunday morning fuelled with a strong will to play. I laugh and search for a reason to stop but to face so many fine instruments in one room is a feeling of power like no other. Every guitar offers a new impression, a reality presented through the colours in its voice and a unique history written in its roots.
Somewhere in the depths of previous centuries a nut pushed its way to the sunbeams and a mighty force was born. With every unique nut a new personality and strength surfaces and fills the skies with a rich hue of light for centuries of seasons in bloom.There’s nothing ordinary at all in the grains and sap of these miraculous beasts. The years of storms and light scarred in its flesh and roots present a unique opportunity for mankind to decipher a story deep in the wood. This voice is birthed with a balance and form translated by an individual craftsman, artist, or luthier. A language that surfaces through the history of the wood is paired with the natural energy of the strings. This is where the magic happens and my Sunday morning truly begins.
There is a certain level of comfort knowing that even the mightiest of trees was once a nut like me. Now, hundreds of years later, this passage of life comes to a halt, to sit and cool and share its experience through a unique language voiced from the skilled hands of mankind. It is the strength and experience of our translator in the field that unifies this voice into something as special and unique as the materials used in its formation. Then something incredible happens.
Music–new and old, heavy and soft, thick and thin, Bach and Debussy–is a presentation trapped in time, stained in timbre, and persuaded out of wood. Music lives and breathes among our everyday and weaves in and out with the fabric of time like the second-hand on your watch. If you are lucky enough, some music can possess you. Not in syllables or pantomines, but in breaths of amplified air; the wood learns to sing and in some way becomes a part of you. This presence, whether you like it or not, greatly alters your experience as both a writer and listener.
Within a unique expertly crafted voice a traffic of constant creativity lingers. There is tone with incredible headroom, balance and volume to embellish, exploit, trigger. It is not just a tool but an influence with infinite potential to change the way you make music.