A charango, when you start to build looks like this:
And you might think it would look now like this:
BUT:
- What you can not see is that the neck and heel is not yet shaped.
- You also can't see that when some days later I tensioned the strings the upper bout which I designed to be independent from the soundboard would move towards the lower bout... Yes I admit that this was not only due to one but to several design errors. I'll come back to this later on
- Further on you can't see the saddle would just flip over under full string tension. Double design error, I'll come back to this later on too.
- You also can't see that when I had beefed up the bridge in front of the saddle slot the bridge itself flew off after being in tune for about 30 minutes. I have to say that I nearly expected this because I was aware of an mistake I committed when gluing the bridge on, but I hoped that my bad feeling about the glue joint would prove to be wrong. Well, I was right, at least that!
The whole thing started by mistake: I didn't want to build a charango, I was planning to build a guitar or two, or more. I already own too many charangos. When I visited Peru in 2009 I brought some tools for my two luthier friends Julio and Edgard Jihuallanca with me. Spontaneously they decided I had to build my first charango right here and now, and they set up a workbench for me (seemed to be an old PingPong table, not really sturdy but putting on top a 25 kg wooden board provided enough mass to be able to use the plane) and let me use their tools. Wow! They even insisted that I would not pay for the wood i used, not for using their workshops and stealing their time either! Thanks a lot Julio and Edgard!
We had a great time. For two months I showed up two or three times a week to work a few hours on my charango. They didn't tell me much about how to do things but I could ask at any time. Edgard cut out the rough shape of the block of wood on the band saw and also did some sanding on his horizontal drill-sander attached to a not any more working tablesaw. The rest, except some posing for photos was done entirely by me, with hand tools. Unfortunately I couldn't see them work a lot on instruments, Julio, most of the time was occupied by a batch of chairs for a school - not exactly his dream job, especially not the sanding part, but it was what would pay his bills those weeks.
Well, as I told you quite a few things went really wrong, and for a long time I couldn't decide whether to take the whole thing apart to do a proper job and to get it right, or to tweak things to get it more or less working. A few days ago I decided I would try to do a clean job and to take the thing apart. There's nothing better than to practice on the own instrument!
(I do instrument repair on a hobbyist basis since about 10 years ago. Mostly I have to revive charangos which had been dropped to the floor (cracked soundboards and bodies), get right disintegrating guitarrones mexicanos which got exposed to hot and humid climate, broken guitar necks, charangos and guitars with the strings up in the sky or down on the frets, dismantle clean, repair and assemble cheap, wrecked charango tuning machines with weird roller distances, and, and... you name it.)
I think I won't show every step of making a charango because with the exception of the hollowed out body bowl it's very similar like building a guitar. I'll concentrate instead on all (or nearly all) the mistakes I made in design and workmanship, hoping to entertain you a bit.
My design mistakes are probably the best things that could happen to me. They really showed me where and why a guitar shaped instrument is getting to the structural limits.
- to be continued tomorrow -
