With tools en route it was time to work up a
solera. A solera is a guitar-shaped work board upon which the vast
majority of construction takes place. The word is Spanish in origin, literally
translating in English to something like crossbeam or stone base. Using a
solera, as opposed to a more modern technique employing a solid form, is a bit
more challenging. With this approach the burgeoning instrument is not held
fixed within the confines of a mold. Instead, the bits of the guitar are
assembled free-form, thus requiring more precision on the part of the luthier.
In spite of the added difficulty, a clear
benefit of the solera is that it affords a more acute awareness of the quality
of the construction at any stage. A mis-bent set of sides, for example, will be
quite obvious as it will not sit nicely within the template lines drafted to
the solera surface. Conversely, a set of sides clamped within a rigid mold may
betray no such signs of an ill fit. Instead, errors are masked and will remain
invisible, living within the final instrument as trapped stress that ultimately
manifest as cracks, dimples, and tonal limitations.
I built my solera more or less according to the
specs in Cumpiano with a couple of
modifications. First, I substituted a sheet of ½” MDF for one of the three
sheets of ½” ply to be glued together. Second, I chose to hand carve the domed
contour of the guitar into the solera itself rather than utilizing a cork shim.
Most of you are probably not aware of the fact that luthiers intentionally dome
the tops and backs of their instruments. The reason for this is that a domed
plate is structurally more resilient than a flat one, which, among other
things, allows the luthier to build lighter, more responsive instruments
without compromising on strength. Use of a shim (a narrow spacer placed around
the periphery of the plate during gluing) or a dished out solera are simply two
ways of achieving this domed profile. However, only with the latter method is
the plate supported over its entire surface during gluing. Because of this,
there is added stability during assembly. What is more, there is no danger of
imparting a plateau to the finished plate, an effect that is possible using a
shim.
After working up a sturdy template in Masonite (upper left), the pattern is then transferred to the would-be solera prior to being cut out with a coping saw. |
With the rough shape cut out, we further approach the template lines with coarse rasps and files. |
The finished solera ready for detailed markup and “dishing”. |
Scale plans of the final instrument are drafted on a large sheet of butcher paper. Measurements are often pulled from this sheet so I keep it hung up on the wall near the bench. |
Some additional modifications were made to the solera a bit later on. Firstly, two 1/2" bolt holes were drilled in the neck segment to allow for direct bolting of the solera to the workbench. This is necessary for some of the later stages of construction. Secondly, a small hole was also drilled at the center of the sound hole for the clamping shoe, which will be needed to secure the soundboard during the side gluing procedure.
Looking back…
No doubt, building the solera was an important first milestone. Though, knowing this I can’t help shaking my head at the amount of effort poured into something so simple. But I cut myself some slack here. It was the first step of many and I was going to be damned if it wasn’t done right. I was building a house and this solera was the foundation upon which everything (figuratively and literally) would be built. There was no way I could have managed to begin the guitar without a proper solera.
This perfectionist compulsion is something that will surface again and again… and again, so take heed. I see it nowadays for what it is: an inextricable property of me with roots that run too deep to pull up. It is something I recognize as being an alternating source of strength and woe; a trait that is at once an asset and a handicap — more often, thankfully, the former — which is derived from the rather effective pairing of a fierce stubbornness and an indomitable fear of failure.
Looking back…
No doubt, building the solera was an important first milestone. Though, knowing this I can’t help shaking my head at the amount of effort poured into something so simple. But I cut myself some slack here. It was the first step of many and I was going to be damned if it wasn’t done right. I was building a house and this solera was the foundation upon which everything (figuratively and literally) would be built. There was no way I could have managed to begin the guitar without a proper solera.
This perfectionist compulsion is something that will surface again and again… and again, so take heed. I see it nowadays for what it is: an inextricable property of me with roots that run too deep to pull up. It is something I recognize as being an alternating source of strength and woe; a trait that is at once an asset and a handicap — more often, thankfully, the former — which is derived from the rather effective pairing of a fierce stubbornness and an indomitable fear of failure.