Luthier Glyn Evans believes a good guitar depends on design, materials and the skill of the maker. Pictures Ted Baghurst
The Luthier - Mr Glyn
Glyn Evans has been in the guitar business most of his life - as a player, builder, repairer and teacher - and he's never been busier.
The Welshman built his first guitar at 17 - it fell to bits on his first gig.
But after gaining a degree from the Leeds College of Music in musical instrument technology (long since closed down, replaced by a course for budding DJs), Glyn's experience and craftsmanship has won him a loyal following among local musicians since he opened his shop in 2007.
The guitars he builds now will last a lifetime or two.
He scavenges wood when he sees it might work for a guitar he has in mind - some mahogony from Onehunga, some Douglas Fir from a nearby demo site. Each takes around three months.
He shows me a guitar he is currently working on built out of swamp kauri he sourced through a contact in Kumeu.
And the difference between a handmade guitar and a factory-made one?
"It's one of the few things where the little guy can win," says Glyn.
"In factories guitars are made within certain tolerances that they know work. But the advantage a skilled luthier has is being able to assess an individual piece of wood, its weight, flexibility, tap tone and get the best out of it."
Much of the work at his newly renovated workshop on Khyber Pass Rd is repairing and restoring older instruments.
"When all the cheap Chinese instruments started coming on the market, the consensus was we'd be throwing worn guitars away and just getting a new one like with TVs and phones. But instead it's just highlighted how good better quality guitars are.
"The vintage market has expanded too. I can only see demand increasing."
And Glyn's clear on what makes a good guitar - "design, materials and the skill of the maker.
"All the clever stuff is inside and never seen by the player. It's by shaving and tuning the internal braces that a skilled luthier can make the difference."
An instrument's value isn't always determined by the market.
He tells me of one recent customer who brought in a top of the line Gibson J-200 (retail $6000-plus) to set up.
A few weeks later the same man brought in a beat-up old Yamaha acoustic, which he'd owned for decades and played at hundreds of parties.
It turns out the pricey J-200 set-up was just a test.
"He told me, 'I can buy a new J-200 any day but this is really valuable. You can't replace that history!'"
Glyn points out an old 70s Martin sitting on his workbench.
It was brought in by the sons of the owner. They found it when they helped their father move house and are now getting it fixed up to give to him on his 70th birthday.
Where are the next generation of luthiers going to come from?
Image 1 of 8: Watchmaker Blair Shallard at work in his Newmarket shop, Watches on Broadway.
For Careers.
11 February 2015 NZ Herald photo by Ted Baghurst.
The Watchmaker - Blair Shallard
Blair Shallard originally wanted to be a lawyer, but got a job at Citizen Watches during one term break and found a new passion.
After working alongside a variety of watch and clock makers, Blair now runs his own shop, Watches on Broadway in Newmarket, where he works mostly on high-grade Swiss watches.
Like luthier Glyn Evans, Blair is overwhelmed with work. Watches waiting to be worked on fill a drawer beneath his workbench, all carefully wrapped in plastic and labelled.
The recent acquisition of new apprentice Sam Bajaj has helped ease the load and the wait-time for customers, before that the wait for a repair was up to six weeks.
"From the day I opened Watches on Broadway I have been busy," Blair says.
"I still do all the more complicated work, but at the rate Sam is going he will be handling the big stuff in a year or so.
"I will finally be able to focus on growing other aspects of the business and my dream -- to design and produce my own watches and clocks."
Overseas there are watchmaking schools after which students can easily get a job working for a Swiss company, but finding someone locally who is willing to hire and train a watchmaker is difficult.
"And even then," says Blair, "it is not uncommon to spend an entire apprenticeship changing batteries and doing minor repairs. I have seen qualified apprentices unable to service a simple mechanical watch without help.
"Hopefully this is about to change, as the JWNZ [The Jewellers & Watchmakers of New Zealand] and NZHI [New Zealand Horological Institute] have collaborated on a proper course. This can only be a good thing for the trade."
Blair's no watch geek and the value of a watch is to him secondary to its mechanical precision. His favourite brand to work on is Rolex.
"I find the mechanisms to be robust and exceptionally well made. Rolex owners frequently want the cases and bracelets re-finished.
"It is always nice to hand back a valuable watch knowing it looks as good on the outside as it does on the inside. There is a lot of satisfaction in that.
"Otherwise, there is so much platform-sharing in watches that distinguishing between brands can become meaningless. Many of the mechanisms are found in hundreds of different brands.
"In that case the type I most enjoy working on are mechanical chronographs like the Valjoux 7750 or older Lemania chronographs. They are a joy to work on because of their added complexity."
And the work has its satisfactions.
"Returning a groomed and serviced watch to a grateful customer feels fantastic.
"That and I always have a ready excuse to buy more tools!
"Having a lathe and a milling machine here gives us a big edge over other repair shops as we can make custom tools and even watch parts.
"A few months back a couple of executives from Rolex were in town visiting their dealers.
"After completing their official business they dropped in here for a look around and I showed them how I had cut a new wheel to replace a broken one in one of their old and obsolete watches.
"They were genuinely impressed. That was a good day."