Barker Bass Blog

Here We Go Again: This one followed me home. Part 1.

2011-07-30T09:30:00.001-07:00

I was on my morning walk late this week, and lo, here is this cute little number poised coyly at the curb. Without the sign, I would have looked carefully and continued on my way. But the sign, oh the sign. My heart flubbed a dub.

I came back an hour later and winched the little darlin' onto the truck and now I am flirting with Fleet Status.

She's pretty much toast, really, except for running gear. But that's a seductive blank canvas. Already there's a sketch on my desk of something that might resemble an army mule.

This comes at a particularly busy time. I think she will be reduced to usable components and salted away for a stormy fall weekend. Gentlemen, start your dismantling!

From lawn mower to parade vehicle, part 4: Semifinal!

2011-07-11T08:40:00.001-07:00

The badge is badged. It is good; it makes the vehicle go faster and better. So well, in fact, that as soon as I got it attached, I went for an enthusiastic test drive and, sput sput, ran out of gas. Back to base was mostly downhill, but the part that wasn't was more memorable.

The original nameplate read, "Oil O Matic" and was from a furnace, evidently. Purchased on ebay. The color was just right, but it was, alas, too big to fit on the nifty oval grille (from a roaster pan) so, after lengthy internal debate, I nipped off the oil. "O Matic" was cutesy enough but still too undefined and awkward to read and say. Especially when I'm doing upwards of 14 mph.

Enter the brass "Ned!" badge which had been waterjetted by a business neighbor long ago and was clanking about in my desk drawer. Bingo!

The machine is parade ready but for a cupholder. I have it, I just can't find the right site for it. So that will eventually occur. All I need now is a couple grandchildren, due this weekend, so I can hitch up the trailer and tour the neighborhood of a summer evening. Loudly.

From lawn mower to parade vehicle, part 3

2011-06-29T08:20:00.001-07:00

"Final Shape" is a lovely phrase. It suggests an ending, but not quite. An accomplishment, but not a certificate. An idea realized but not completely released.

Such is the paractor. There is one essential element which is, at this writing, in the United States Postal Service and due to land at the end of the week. That installed, late next week no doubt, will be a ribbon on the package.

Meantime, we have "final shape." The machinery is operative, the main aesthetic details are in place, and when it is in the driveway, people walking and even driving by tend to stop.

Shown is the dashboard above. With everything irrelevant except the choke and the ignition switch, the space remains a blank canvas. Current dashboard component stock is in depletion because of completion of dashboards for Bjorn's Christmas gift and the Steampunk Master Control project at the library. We may hit the road with a blank instrument panel for the time being.

So, the only question to you is, what is clearly missing? And, as a hint, can fit in a small Priority box?

From lawn mower to parade vehicle, part 2

2011-06-23T08:34:00.001-07:00

In the next to topmost image you can see the BSA motorcycle muffler peeking out from the right running board. An afternoon in George Blackman's well-equipped welding heaven gave us the new header and nicely segmented chrome duct down to the silencer, which astute motorcyclist/hot rodder/Bonneville competitor Martin Doerfler called a "quietdowner raris." My neighbors would agree. Mothers grab their children and rush for the cellar when they hear me coming.

The hood and nose come from a vertical barbecue/smoker called the "Smoke'en Grill." (See above.)

The grille itself is from some cooking pot device, still marked "25c" from the thrift store where I scored it.

The chrome plate on the side of the airbox is functional--it, too, did culinary duty in the long ago, in this case as a cheese grater. Look at yours--it's just a bunch of louvers, right?

The faux radiator cap is yet to be painted, probably brass. It is designed to move about gently as the vehicle makes its leisurely way down the thoroughfare.

There, first articulated, is the aesthetic goal of this mechanical melange.

From lawn mower to parade vehicle, part 1

2011-06-14T11:02:00.001-07:00

Innocent enough: A ten year old riding lawn mower. Fairly well attended to, but destined for a much higher calling. Mechanical condition: quite good. Body: oxidized, but neither rusted nor banged up. Tires: Not for highway use. Or much use, really. But we'll try Slime first.

All in all, great potential. First order of business was to remove all the cutting parts, which might amount to about a third of the weight of the thing.

Originally, the next step was to be simple, or not so simple, embellishment. But there was something about the look with the hood removed that headed us both in a different direction.

Continued...

Five Grandchildren, Five Projects, And a Pile o' Wrapping Paper: Part 4

2010-12-30T09:58:00.000-08:00

Bjorn is the only male in the current Grandchild Spectrum, and he's all boy. He loves trucks and machinery and airplanes and rockets.

With one sister and four female cousins, I thought control might be an issue I could address with a gift for him.

Enter Bjorn's Master Control. The deck is about 14 x 16 inches, and none of the controls really does anything--by design. This is all about imagination and making the sounds yourself and he's good at that.

A lot of this flotsam I had in the shop and a trip to the Habitat for Humanity ReStore filled out the requirements. The obscure, enigmatic labels were scrounged from a large manifold evidently used in the brewing process somehow. They ended up getting close to this mark: Bjorn's dad is the operations manager at a resort water park--lots of valves, buttons and gauges.

Power on, Sir! Let me check the dials before I invert the chromdulating dyschortler!

Five Grandchildren, Five Projects, And a Pile o' Wrapping Paper: Part 3

2010-12-30T09:55:00.000-08:00

Maya, not present on The Day, collects Breyer horse books. And she needed a place to keep them. Just a bookcase, or bookbox, was hardly enough to justify her quests and her passion for this series.

I wouldn't call her a cowgirl, but I thought a little thematic stuff on the case would help make it special. And the top is big enough to rest her cowgirl hat, if she has a mind to get one.

Five Grandchildren, Five Projects, And a Pile o' Wrapping Paper: Part 2

2010-12-30T09:49:00.000-08:00

Lily is a princess, and Walt Disney had nothing to do with it. He just provides context. So the princess gets a Magic Imagination Box.

The container itself is pine. The coffered lid and the feet are figured maple.
Centered on the top is a "gold" coin, set in epoxy resin. Likewise in the bottom is the Special Key, set in quincunx fashion along with four costume jewelry pieces. Sprinkled throughout are some freshwater pearls.

What will be in there...the name of a handsome prince? The cell phone number of a magician who knows where the key goes? Magic stones?

Five Grandchildren, Five Projects, And a Pile o' Wrapping Paper: Part 1

2010-12-30T09:36:00.000-08:00

First a disclaimer: Somehow we got into the dress up box before the Christmas unwrapping with three of the grandchildren. You'll see what I mean in the pictures.

Youngest is Emily, 14 months, who got the little rocker. I decided it wasn't going to be an animal, so I was thinking it would be swoopy like a bobsled, but it ended up being a self portrait, or so I'm told by many who see me much more than I see myself in the mirror. The rocker is a tour of woods often found in the shop: Quartersawn oak, big leaf maple, walnut, mahogany, hard rock maple, fir, birch and alder.

Next in age is Juni, who is a climber, especially since she escaped her spica cast (see an earlier post on this blog). I thought, as a card carrying grandpa, I should just make it easier for her to get up onto high things! The stepstool is all solid stock juniper with a waterborne polyurethane finish. She likes the place to put things--her stuff--which then becomes off limits to her sister Lily.

Continued...

Ginner, Barker Bass #99, gets a Graphtech Ghost System

2010-11-18T15:38:00.000-08:00

Ginner (see blog post Friday December 12, 2008), built in memory of my mother, had actually been originally intended to have a Ghost System from GraphTech. Now became the time, so the first task was to bore and counterbore a spot for a fourth pot on the face, likewise a small toggle switch. At the time, I didn't have a fourth pretty knob so I used a stock black one just to be sure everything worked.

The serious electronic work started with excavating a filled-in section under the bridge, which accommodates the leads from the individual pickups. Things really get interesting in the electronics cavity--see the images--but if one takes one's time it all makes sense.

The double battery box is a Barker trademark. Some preamps like 18 volts, most work on 9. If 9 is enough, then the second compartment holds a new battery--as handy as a spare could be. These batteries, according to GraphTech, should last 500 hours, but anecdotally that appears to be a bit optimistic.

So we're into testing at this point, refining perhaps, but all in all it's the same bass with a greater breadth of sonic choices. The dramatic makeovers are the purview of cheap television series. This is real world, hands on, down and dirty, mechanics which, though helpful as a musician's tool, still points you back to your hands.

It's all in the hands.

High Desert Swap Meet 2010 Part 2: The Roadster

2010-10-25T16:09:00.000-07:00

Open Wheeled cars are the plunging neckline of the automotive world. Riskier than the alternative, Great looking in the mirror, and the fun really begins when they go out in public.

I love the curves on this car. It was an exquisitely executed dream, created, the sign says, by a man who lived only long enough to see it run. He died, leaving it to his widow, whose neighbor kindly finished the project and brought it along to the High Desert Swap Meet to sell. Whether it did is moot; what is important is the presence it brought.

You could lose yourself in the minute details under the hood; the no-nonsense dashboard, the era-perfect wire wheels.

But it's the curve of the body that's something so right. Organically flowing, each square centimeter knowing where next to be as the hand moves over it.

It started, it ran, it was like a dream that man shared with us all. Is it tragic that he died? Very likely; lives ending leave pain somewhere. But counter that with this indisputable triumph: He did it. He drew some sketches, he made some measurements, and he didn't stop to talk about it, he did it.

I fancy the word "someday" wasn't in his vocabulary.

If you don't share my twitterpation with the topographical undulations of this sensuous beauty, that's ok. But meditate upon the reality of this endeavor and balance that against all the barriers you have identified between you and an accomplishment long held and equally undone.

Let the neckline plunge. Something's gonna happen. Open that door and head out.

Hobo's Meditation by Jimmie Rodgers: Additional Verse

2010-09-29T14:05:00.000-07:00

The Singing Brakeman: Jimmie Rodgers. A talented songwriter who died tragically of tuberculosis in the mid thirties. He was 35.

This song has been recorded by Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash and the fabled distaff Trio: Ronstadt, Parton and Harris. Folksingers of all stripes have a fondness for it.

The original lyric:

written by Jimmie Rodgers
© 1933 Peer International Corp

Last night as I lay on the boxcar
Just waiting for a train to pass by
What will become of the hobo
Whenever his time comes to die

There's a Master up yonder in heaven
Got a place that we might call our home
Will we have to work for a living
Or can we continue to roam

Will there be any freight trains in heaven
Any boxcars in which we might hide
Will there be any tough cops or brakemen
Will they tell us that we cannot ride

Will the hobo chum with the rich man
Will we always have money to spare
Will they have respect for the hobo
In that land that lies hidden up there

Will there be any freight trains in heaven
Any boxcars in which we might hide
Will there be any tough cops or brakemen
Will they tell us that we cannot ride

Will the hobo chum with the rich man
Will we always have money to spare
Will they have respect for the hobo
In that land that lies hidden up there

The repeat of the last two stanzas lands heavy. Could there be more?

Bill in Alabama (user name) is a prolific poster at www.mudcat.org:

"Our family performed this song with great success for many years, but we felt that it needed another verse; so, with apologies to Jimmie Rodgers, we came up with the following, sung as the final verse:"

In that sweet land that lies over yonder/ Does the warm summer sun always shine/ Will there be fences and watchdogs,/ And are the trains always on time?/
Are there orchards and gardens aplenty/ Where my friends will be waiting for me--/ Does God have a place for the wand'rer/ Where we'll be allowed to roam free?

Beautifully done.

Prior to discovering Bill's touching poetry, I humbly penned this:

When the last train rolls into glory / Will the rails be plated in gold?
When the passengers step to the platform / And all of their stories are told
Will we sit down at the same table / The rich and the poor every one?
Will we all see the Master in glory / In the place that shines bright as the sun.

What was a simple song now claims multiple authors and multiple forms, qualifying (to some yardsticks) as a folk song. Add a few verses of your own and well have an epic, right up there with Beowulf. Light the bonfire and pull up a log to sit on!

High Desert Swap Meet 2010, Part 1: The Nash and the Model T

2010-09-23T08:10:00.000-07:00

Mac and Lucille Clark lived across the street from us. Two daughters, Linda and Joan. Small, no, eentsy Montana town.
Mac was something of a genius, but not eccentric. His work ethic had him at the shop early and home late. He had a Nash.

When I espied this beauty at the HDSM, I was lurched back to that Norman Rockwell childhood and the Clarks' blue Nash. In it, you lifted the shift knob toward your face to engage the starter. Clever. That way, you could never start it in gear because the switch wouldn't work if the stick weren't in neutral.

The owner of this Nash had some brags: "First car ever designed in a wind tunnel," he proclaimed. He started it up; it purred. "Look at that exhaust manifold, cast right into the block!" That took some reflection. It seems like a good idea, but I'm not sure why it didn't become typical. Some expansion/contraction issues, I suspect.

Then there was the cluster of Model Ts.

Tack, or was it Spike, Van Cleve had a Model T, open touring car. He couldn't afford tires for it so he drove it on the streets of Big Timber on its rims. But it ran! Though the word is overused, the T is an icon. Not just of transportation in the United States, but also of manufacturing. A cursory study of the T will take you many directions: society, class, moguls, money, power, innovation, politics, labor, diversification, and on.

There are always questions when you come upon vintage or unusual vehicles (And there will be several more HDSM interrogatory-laden posts on this blog as time goes on) but this one is unusual:

"Why so cheap?"

These cars appeared to be in running condition. They looked original, not gussied up to some level of perfection simply not achieved in the first decate of the 20th century. One sign said $6500. Another, $6000. I found the owner, posed the question.

A genuine look of sadness crossed his face. He paused, looked down, then looked me in the eye: "I think it's because these younger people aren't interested in finding out about these cars."

Any color, as long as its black. The color of mourning.

Friends of Joel Thomas, Barker Bassist, rally to help him fight ALS

2010-09-17T09:04:00.000-07:00

Here's a link the site which not only describes how his local community is stepping up, but also provides an easy way for you to help. That link is at the bottom of the page, in the center:

Support Joel Thomas

(Let the slide show play and you'll see Joel with his Barker.)

You can click for the modern system, or mail a check.

The more you get to know Joel and about Joel, the larger this opportunity looms.

How about this for your birthday, honey?

2010-08-30T10:37:00.001-07:00

Swift and McCormick, metal recyclers. It's an interesting place. Unused (scrap) metal from manufactories is deposited here; the company leaves a bin at your site and picks it up when it's full. The stuff is sorted, baled, and sold. Locals who have metal stuff around bring it here, get paid for it, and have that good feeling they didn't throw it into the landfill.

And then there's retail buyers. Visit, pick, weigh, pay and leave. She was excited. It was a moderate, beautiful Saturday morning.

A month ago I had got my hands on a unique piece and intended to buy it but mistakenly left it in, literally, the dust. I described that scenario to Linda, with emphasis on my disappointment. "One in a million chance of finding it," I muttered, somewhat bitterly.

Minutes later she was walking toward me, swinging it in her hand, look of smug delight on her lovely face. It's the D-handle looking gizmo in the image of the loot in the back of the pickup.

Her find was the cast piece, probably for the top of a gate, which includes two ravens. This will be a stunning addition to the Steampunk/Poe teen section of the library, once she paints it.

Oh, and back to the D-handle thingy. I suspect it will be vaguely familiar to you but, out of context, not easily identifiable. Leave a comment with a hint towards your guess. We'll all be wondering, and it will be more wonder-ful if no one just out and out says it. (note: somewhere in this text there is a clue; not in this paragraph.)

But perhaps you'll not have time for such games, being on your way to Swift and McCormick for a day of Unbridled Birthday Joy.

Barker Brio #16

2010-08-04T09:59:00.000-07:00

It seems like more of these have been made than just 16, but here it is, the numerical empirical truth.

We thought it would be the Ford Falcon of Barker Basses, an allusion which holds well if you're old enough to remember those years.

The Falcon popped onto the automotive stage amidst schools of lethal dorsal fins, doors which rattled even when you were the first to drive on a newly paved street, and ginormous power plants stuffed into marshmallow-inspired chassis equipped with power steering which ranged more than all the nomadic tribes of the world combined.

It was smaller. It was trimmer. It was simpler. It was modest. Cute, even, and quickly adopted by our car-crazy culture. It outsold its competition which was the Chevy Corvair (the rear engine was just too, um, German) and the Plymouth Valiant (whose little tailfins were vaguely reminiscent of a 13 year old girl's first sweater).

And then, over the years, per American Car custom, it slowly got bigger, fancier, and, surprise! more expensive.

Right now the Barker Brio is exactly as designed, and at the same price.
It is simple--Pbass pickups, volume and tone controls.
It is sleek.
It has a humility about it--unpretentiousness perhaps, springing from the alder used exclusively in the body.
It is lighter weight than its more sophisticated sibling, the B1.

And just as much fun to play.

The bright spot is that making instruments one at a time allows the maker to be in touch with the parts and bring them to a singular purpose with his own experience and intention.

The dim part is about sales. It would be very helpful for all aspects of the business if more were marching toward the boxup table and the door.

Meantime, you can still get a Barker Bass with a serial number in the teens!

Ponder that moment that your grandchildren are proudly standing next to the carpeted, oddly shaped table and the Antiques Roadshow appraisers are clustered about, cooing and oohing about this extremely rare example of the early Barker instruments. "The value would be half this if you'd had it refinished!"

After the filming is over, they'll tote the bass out to the parking lot, put it in the back of their Falcon Ranchero and ease into traffic.

Life is good.

CinderBlue at the Wheeler County Bluegrass Festival 2010

2010-07-09T08:50:00.001-07:00

"Back in time" works as a tag line for this Festival. You hardly see a cell phone. And get this: People stake out their territory with their lawn chairs (I think we call them "event chairs" now) on Thursday or whenever they arrive, and leave them there for the duration. If you show up and find some vacant chairs, have a seat. When the owner comes 'round, you'll get a polite tap on the shoulder.

No fences, no gate volunteers, no hand stamps. Just a pleasant lawn shaded by elegant deciduous trees and the stately but modest Wheeler County Courthouse. Good food vendors, a couple of very impressive luthiers including Jayson Bowerman. Plenty of camping up by the fairgrounds. Sit and listen.

Last year we were invited by the host and founder, Jay Bowerman, to sit in with his group Quincy Street for a few gospel tunes, chronicled here.

This year we were asked to do the whole gospel show on Sunday morning.

A lot of the music you will hear there is pure. Period. But other stuff pushes out the boundaries gently in this way and that, making for delightful variety without losing the roots connection.

Add in a gospel scramble, workshops, a well-produced melodrama by the Fossil Theater Players and you'll be hard pressed to find a reason to get farther than earshot from the stage.

And one more word about this event. The philosophical underpinnings include a commitment to area bands. No big national acts are recruited or booked--It is July 4 weekend, and this is truly music of the people, by the people and for the people. And the music is good. Great Northern Planes. Misty River. And more.

Keep track here. And note the list of sponsors at the bottom of that page. Without them, and you know the rest.

Thank you Jay, Teresa, Carol, and many others for the Wheeler County Bluegrass Festival.

So you don't need to be struck by lightning while eating a cheese sandwich in sight of a Norman Rockwell painting to get it. It's Back in Time and you're there, 100%.

Barker Bass Brio Bonus; Simon Goulding

2010-06-18T09:59:00.000-07:00

Just as your ears can filter out extraneous sounds such as teenagers conversing in the back of the van, or the inane news staff chitchat on local TV which invades the waiting room where you have other things on your mind, so can the eye be so focused that it misses what otherwise might be obvious.

In bringing two Brio bodies to the finish stage, I concentrate on every little mark in the wood, every little corner, every curve. Parts I see; the whole, not.

Hence the delight when these two went into the finish room for their first subcoat of oil. (This brings out color and grain contrast that just aren't present with a clear coat over the raw wood. It might be the visual equivalent of a really good preamp taking a really good signal and making it deeper, thicker, richer.)

A grain figure pattern emerged on one of the basses. This is not a Shroud of Turin kind of moment, just one that provoked a delighted smile and a sprint to get the camera to try to capture an interim look at what will become, I think, the defining elegance of this particular instrument.

The Brio does not own the high ground of elegance of the family of Barker Basses. That is B1five territory, well flagged currently by #95, now owned by Simon Goulding of the UK.

Here's a slice of his bio:

After winning the performing arts school music prize on 2 consecutive years, Simon started working as a pro session musician at the age of 16 and has performed, toured & recorded with many top artists in the world including The Bee Gees, Joe Longthorne, Freddie Starr, Engelbert Humperdinck, Peter Kay, Ronan Keating, David Essex, Tony Christie, The London Community Gospel Choir, The Drifters, The Four Tops, Martha Reeves, Cannon & Ball, Peter Grant, The Nolans, Billy Pearce, Dutch Vocalist Rene Froger, Alan Stewart, The Memphis Belle Orchestra, The Kings Of Swing Orchestra, The Nelson Riddle Tribute Orchestra, The Salsa meets Jazz Collective, Jovenes Clasicos Del Son, Gary Boyle, Tony Oxley, Gary Potter to name but a few. He has performed at new launches for BMW and Mercedes Benz. Add in performances at The M.E.N. Arena (20 sellout nights, over 400,000 people in Manchester UK). Ronnie Scott's Club (London UK), The London Palladium (UK), Las Vegas (USA) and Havana (Cuba), Budapest (Hungary), The Kourion Amphitheatre (Cyprus), Dubai, Abu Dhabi (Ferrari World F1 Grand Prix) plus many more. I am involved with many many different bands live and in the studio. Album Credits include, Simon Goulding “Familia”. Jazzology "Jazzology", Marty Franklins "Kajambu", Munch Manship "12 Pearls", Freddie Starr "Not fade away", Joe Longthorne "Joe's Back", "In Paradise", "Live at the London Palladium" “Sings to the Gods” DVD & Video credits include: Joe Longthorne "Joe's back", "Live in paradise","Live at the London Palladium", “Sings to the gods-live in Cyprus”. TV: "Heaven & Earth UK BBC1".

Whew.

Simon Goulding = busy bassist.

Like the beautiful grain pattern in the Brio, Simon was there all along. I just hadn't noticed him. Now we've found a bass that fits in his hands and, we hope, his heart.

The Brio is still anticipating such a home.

Sam Maloof Rocker, Charles Brock,and Coy, Part 3

2010-06-08T11:21:00.001-07:00

Coy got to unveil his rocking chair at the monthly meeting of the Central Oregon Woodworkers, a genial fellowship of craftspeople of all stripes--turners, carvers, generalists, a model maker and restorer, and serious hobbyists. And George, who is so difficult to categorize that we'll have to see a separate blog post after we visit his shop.

It was a riveting moment. All or close to all of these people know a Maloof chair when they see one, though few had heard of Charles Brock or were aware that you could buy digital/print coaching for the construction of one of these works of art. Coy got to share some of his journey, both holding tools and allowing his mind to explore this manifestation of Sam Maloof and his spirit.

In stark and fascinating contrast was a table full of bones--all the parts of my Maloof project were there, but not a single one was attached to another. Next step is the cutting of angles on the headrest, drilling for the spindles, and dry fitting with the back legs temporarily attached to the seat. Oh, the seat, it needs to be shaped too; now it's a rugged landscape of pieces roughed on the bandsaw and far from looking like an inviting place to plunk oneself.

Attendants who are well acquainted with what it takes to get a foursquare piece of wood to become curvilinear and graceful could get a grasp of the hours it would take to go from the relatively easy part of cutting parts to a template to the sinuous sight of the front leg flowing into the arm rest, or the back leg sprouting from the rocker and leafing at the seat, the arm rest and the headrest.

And those rockers! The contrasting maple stacked just so with the walnut. The ebony plugs at the front and back legs. Note the artistic use of sapwood (the white) in the spindles and the seat.

Congratulations, Coy. It's a beauty.

And he wants to build another one.

A newcomer to the group last night was Hans Emmons, who builds and restores models. From his web site I lifted this quotation from Beryl Markham, the 20th century aviatrix who made history as the first person to fly the Atlantic solo from east to west:

"No human pursuit achieves dignity until it can be called work, and when you can experience a physical loneliness for the tools of your trade, you see that other things - the experiments, the irrelevant vocations, the vanities you used to hold – were false to you."

Sam Maloof Rocker, Charles Brock, and Coy, Part 2

2010-05-24T09:03:00.000-07:00

It's just about the rocker. But wait, if it's a rocking chair, that's it! It can't be just about the rocker if, when there's no rocker, it's just a chair!

There are three ways to bend wood: steam, kerfing, and bent lamination. Steam is very effective, fun to do, but limited to solid wood. (There is a new way of bending wood which involves compressing it endwise first to collapse the cells, but we'll get into that sometime in the future, when I'm smarter about it.)

Kerfing is the process of making numerous parallel saw cuts not clear through the board, evenly spaced, so the board can easily be bent but remain solid on one side. This often is used as a substrate for veneer, and the sides of the board--where the kerfing shows--is hidden.

Kerfing could conceivably work for making a rocker, but covering the kerfs and insuring enough strength would make it more labor-intensive than it needs to be.

Hence the bent laminations you see in the image. The bonus here is that you can include contrasting colors--something Sam enjoyed doing, and something that Charles encourages as a way to "have fun" and personalize your rocker. Coy's choice is maple, which brings a bright white to the walnut.

Right out of the clamping form, the stripes are even. When the rocker is rounded and shaped, these will be more expressive and artistic visual components.

Brock refers, in his written companion to the how-to DVD, to the "rockers' cyma curve" as one of the "most stunning features one usually notices about this chair."
Absolutely. But what is a "cyma curve"?

This is from Raymond McInnis' Online Dictionary of Woodworking:

The Queen Anne style emerged in England at the close of the seventeenth century. (Queen Anne -- the English monarch from Holland, i.e., the nation of the Dutch, but today called The Netherlands -- gave the "Queen Anne" style its name. She ascended the throne in 1702, and reigned until 1714.) The Queen Anne style is of Dutch inspiration, and as the historian of furniture history Joseph Aronson (pages 64-65) notes, "combines elements of comfort, grace, elegance". As the century progressed, in England the Queen Anne style evolved, and the cyma curve became strikingly more pronounced.

Aronson elaborates,

"Sleek and sophisticated, there is generally a unity of curved lines in Queen Anne furniture; a restraint of ornament and a better technical understanding of design. The cabriole leg is the outstanding detail, and its skillful association with other curves, as of seat outlines and back members of chairs, produces superb, distinctive designs. Improved technique made stretchers unnecessary after 1710, and pierced back splats became more decorative. Marquetry was subordinated to fine walnut surfaces. Carved motives were the scallop shell, broken and C-curves acanthus leaves."

Queen Anne style continued through the reign of George I and well into the reign of George II, so that late Queen Anne furniture often is called early Georgian. But says Aronson, -- The Encyclopedia of Furniture, New York: Crown, 1938, pages 64-65 -- "as the style progressed it had more and more curved lines. The cyma curve predominated".

A shorter explanation: the cyma curve is an elongated S.

There are things easily understood in a short time from a short sentence, and then there are things which require absorption and understanding. Reducing any significant furniture to references to geometric tropes would be, as they say, like dancing about architecture.

But it is good to zero in from time to time for a closeup.

Steampunk Weaponry and Harmless Drudges

2010-05-10T09:07:00.000-07:00

High School speech students often start an oration with, "Webster defines (insert subject of speech here) as..." Not a bad idea to start a discussion with a definition. And if you're curious about definitions themselves, well, Webster defines a definer as...

Our subject today is Steampunk. Here is an agglomerated definition of this portmanteau word: Steampunk is a subgenre of fantasy literature that includes technology powered by archaic methods (often, but not exclusively, steam) and an emphasis on hand-crafted, individually produced mechanical artifacts.

Common Elements of Steampunk
1. Steam locomotion, Airship transportation, Clockwork mechanization.
2. Fictional technologies, often based on archaic principles such as the Aether or Chaos Energy.
3. Victorian setting or sensibility. (1837 - 1901)
4. A lack of mass-produced goods and an emphasis on hand-crafting and crafts guilds. Clothing Victorian; embellishments, completely individualized.
5. Often presented as an alternate history of the real world.
6. Sometimes includes magic or fantastic elements or "science fiction."

These descriptors seem to be accurate to this observer, and are typical, but the definition never seems to tiptoe into the realm of the tension between the buttoned-up mores of the Victorian Era and the full-speed-ahead mentality of the Industrial Revolution.

But enough of this. People make Steampunk stuff, some of which houses modern things. And whether one traverses the aether by foot or airship, one should have an article or two of self protection.

Hence the above exercise, by a harmless drudge of the "assembled from other parts" world. Perhaps this is portmanteau art. The Thrombolean Dysambulator has the capacity to not only stop the heart of your assailant, but also to render her/his knees nonfunctionable. The Stygmisticator allows for confident self protection without sacrificing heft.

Dysambulator, $395 plus shipping; Stygmisticator, $275 plus shipping.

Sam Maloof Rocker, Charles Brock, and Coy, Part 1

2010-04-05T08:40:00.000-07:00

Coy is accomplished with his hands. Years of work as a building subcontractor--hands on, not a truck-and-clipboard poseur--have given him a range of experience with materials and what to do to persuade them into place. His most recent in-retirement effort has been the construction of a Long EZ Berkut (stock photo). He's a man of restless energy, and when he walked into the shop and said, "I want to build a Maloof Rocker" I knew this was not an idle inquiry.

We purchased the DVD, full size templates and ancillary book from Charles Brock and visited my local hardwood supplier Dan. It seemed like a lot of walnut for two svelte rocking chairs, but no, it's about gone and all we have left is the rockers to fabricate.

But the real story here is not about building chairs, it's about our exploration of the life and work of Sam Maloof, a most amazing human being. We have both read the coffee table book (yes, there's plenty of text!) called Sam Maloof Woodworker (published by Kodansha International, 1983) and have scoured the Web for every other tidbit we could find about him.

Brock is quick to say that building a Maloof rocker is "on every woodworker's bucket list" and he's right. I just never thought I could or would. But there's no reason a guy who builds musical instruments couldn't do it, provided he had someone like Coy, a delightful workshop companion, to nudge him into a few hours a week devoted to creating our tribute to Sam, marveling at his design and execution, and maybe even hauling away a family heirloom-to-be.

Thank you Sam, Thank you Charles, Thank you Coy.

Birth of a Barker Bass Prototype

2010-02-23T09:57:00.000-08:00

As a manufacturer/craftsman, I like what I have designed and think, in my own selfish, unwindowed world that what you need you will find in my product line.

That is stinkin' thinkin', of course. In similar foolishness, I thought the mental construct was impenetrable.

But somewhere there was a micro fissure in my narrow world, and this Poco idea broached the gap. Two days of work and we have what you see.

Bass on a mic stand.

But wait, there's more!

Already Brent commented the "body needs work." Agreed. It also needs some drastic weight loss surgery. Too much mass, even when I changed the balance point from where you see to right under the end of the fingerboard.

And maybe it would benefit from a stand with a slightly wider footprint; perhaps a three-point stance would be better.

And the 360 degree mounting is good in concept but inadequate in position-holding.

And if we want it to go three ways--vertical on the stand, horizontal on the stand, and strap-slingable to boot, then there's a keen need for a smooth back unencumbered by attachment protrusions. As Bill Cosby's Noah says back to God, "RIGHT!"

Hmmm.

This is the kind of list that makes an innovator wring his hands in poorly-disguised excitement! Clear that bench! Bring in the boxes of metal thingies that have no other label than "metal thingies"! Leave me an amp of modest but adequate horsepower! Slide pizza under the door at appropriate intervals!

And then there's the stand. The mic stand shaftresonates like crazy when this bass is played!

What are we going to do with that factoid?

The patient has ailments. The doctor is in the house. The immediate prescription is Elixir of Time.

Jazz Bass Electronics And Wanda the Terrier: A Tale of Two Barkers

2010-02-19T08:46:00.000-08:00

Several viewers of the OPB Art Beat segment about Barker Bass have noticed the cameo appearance of Wanda, the Pound Hound. She seems unaffected by the attention.

Very little in her life introduces changes, and she responds happily to routine. This would be contrary to other terriers, who are often described as "dogs who will do whatever you want them to do...whenever they decide to do it!"

When a Barker Bass reaches the "clean bench" which is the one in the office where all the electronic and stringup tasks are accomplished, it loses the individuality it had enjoyed in the initial construction processes. There, the wood is identified by some characteristic--"the one with the swirl toward the middle" or "the one with the stunning alder pattern on the back" and that nickname sticks, for a while. It may even generate special attention, particularly when Dean Mancini, our artful finisher, gets his hands on it.

On the bench, though, the instrument becomes less individual and the tasks more rote. The electronics we want to be dependable, functioning exactly the same, every time. When you roll the volume of the upper pickup just this far, you want it to sound the same as it did yesterday. Quality components and attention to detail are the guarantors here.

Wanda wants to go outdoors about 6:30am, and when she comes in, she heads straight to the food dish. If that has not been the focus of the same sort of rigorous attention that the volume and tone pots get at the shop, she gets in my way and stays there, moving adroitly but always staying face on, until I dredge the measuring cup out of the dogfood pantry and clatter the kibbles into her stainless steel platter.

The wires for the control cavity are cut according to a chart, identified by color and length, stripped, tinned (technical term for melting some solder into the strands so individual tiny wires don't stray out of their yard), and laid out for their turn to be soldered in place and coiled neatly out of the way.

When Linda and I innocently went to the Redmond Humane Society some 10 years ago, we were overwhelmed by the barking and yipping in the yard. Then we noticed this diminutive, warmly colored but excessively fozzie dog sitting quietly on her haunches and looking us right in the eye. Our hearts were toast at that point, and are still warm when she attends to us, or moans her sighs of contentment as she lies by the fireplace in the evening.

The Barker Bass does not shout its way into people's lives. They are often looking for something else when it catches their eye.

It's likely to become a constant, dependable companion. Character? Of course. Fickle, no.

Big Leaf Maple, Hawthorn, and other Wood Surprises

2010-01-15T08:59:00.000-08:00

Two wood stories whose common thread is merely time:

Some 20 years ago I cut down a tree in our front yard. It was a pest. Hawthorn, I believe, with spiky limbs (though junior varsity compared to locusts) and tiny leaves that make a mockery of raking. Son Joel and I had planted a ponderosa pine nearby, and we didn't want it to have to compete with its vexatious neighbor. I bucked a couple of 12 inch sections from the butt and painted the ends with oil based paint to insure slow drying, and squirreled them away. This December they landed in my mental lap: gifts for the kids who would remember, vaguely, the tree. I tried to turn bowls. Not successful. I ended up making Christmas tree ornaments, shown in the image.

But look closer at this amazing section: The pith--which we expect to be in the center of a tree--is right at the edge!

The annular rings are not rings, they are Cs, and they radiate from the pith and then form "thumbs" as on a mitten, and the bark turns inward and folds onto itself.
It's a mys-tree for sure.

Part Two: a trip to the hardwood yard. I can pretty much stay on a budget in a shopping situation with this exception. I was trolling through a unit of big leaf maple, cut in Oregon, and turned up these three boards. All different, all loading themselves in my truck before I knew what was happening. They will indeed show up on Barker Basses in the future. I'm not sure what model, I'm less sure when, but all three captured my eye and my heart. Budget, begone! Art reigns!

Note: those who sell me wood--Dan and Tom--know me and smile benignly when I succumb this way. I sign the ticket, eyes glazed enough they often need to point to the line. I never leave empty handed, and at the end of the month, their hands aren't empty either. If you can't sell me wood, you would do well to sell me naphtha: That's the strange solvent which, when spread on wood, makes it appear as it would under clear finish. It evaporates readily and leaves the wood unchanged. I buy it by the gallon.

Followup: Juni, Congenital Hip Dislocation, and Spica Cast

2010-01-15T08:47:00.000-08:00

After three months in the cast, Juni was set free. All seems to be progressing properly. The transition appliance, which supplies rigidity from the blue plastic form, is fulltime for a while then goes to naps and nighttime only.

Her crawling mobility is increased with the power from both feet now readily available. Her pelvis rocks left to right, much as some reptiles' do, when she gets going. She has also figured out how to pull herself up! You may recall she was doing that regularly when the dislocation issue was discovered and the cast prescribed.

Through this all, she has been a normal kid--happy sometimes, grumpy others. Her spirit is clearly resilient, and her sister Lily is obviously excited to have her playmate back in a way that permits them both to explore the world a little more aggressively than the past 90 days have allowed.

Green Plow Coffee Roasting: Pat Schmidt on the Podium

2009-12-31T08:57:00.000-08:00

You approach the orchestra prepared to lead them in creating beautiful music. Just before you lift the baton, you remember that the oboe player has a chest cold and won't be able to play the long notes like he usually does. In this hall, you recall, the bright sounds are really projected well so you must hold down the brasses, especially the trumpets. And the tympanist has broken up with her boyfriend, and she's going to be back there whomping out the painful beats of her broken heart. Use the softening gesture toward her, but remember to smile too...

It's those variables and how you respond to them that puts your performance either in the "art" category or the "cookie cutter" list.

So it is with roasting coffee. All this time I had lumped the beans with a turkey: you put it in the oven at 325 degrees, did the math and checked on it after the elapsed time and if it looked done, took it out.

Then I watched Pat roast.

So starting with the coffee, where is it from, what experience have you had with it?
Answers to those questions will drive the two principal variables, roasting temperature and time. The gas-driven flame you can see, the clock you can watch, and the beans must be looked at regularly by sliding out a little handled tube, taking a quick, analytical glance, and thrusting them back into the heated fray.

Roast time is 14 minutes, give or take. Pat packs a clipboard and records the temperature every 30 seconds, glancing at the flame, pulling the tube out and observing carefully and quickly, making adjustments to flame and air, and then it's time to record the temp again. The analogy to conducting an orchestra is physically very apt, which leads to a challenge to Brian Johnson: Film this guy and set it to music!

When the beans are done, based on human judgments of their color and the presence of tiny dots of oil (the cheerful deliverers of that exquisite fresh-roasted flavor), they make a steamy entrance into the cooling tray where chaff is blown off from the popping phase (and yes, it sounds a little like popcorn).

The graph is saved. And while it is not as exquisite as Charles Minard's famous chart it will be valuable to Pat, contributing to the consistency of his roasts, in spite of the oboe player and the tympanist.

If you can buy a bag right then, your hands will be warmed all the way home from Green Plow Coffee Roasters on 6th street in Redmond, Oregon.

Juni, Congenital Hip Dislocation, and Spica Cast

2009-12-10T09:21:00.000-08:00

A month short of her first birthday, Juni's parents discovered she had a displaced hip. It happened this way: The sisters were rasslin' and when that ended in loud noises and tears, Joe and Sarah thought perhaps Juni had injured a foot. Off to the Emergency Room for the Right Now X-ray. Good news: Nothing broken. They're on their way out of the hospital, relieved, when the X-ray tech comes up behind them and invites them back in. "I'm seeing something on the X-ray," he said. And there it was. Sarah, whose sister had CHD early on, had noticed the manifestations of this in Juni's crawling, but her concerns and observations had been discounted by the doctor.

The course of action was to relocate the ball of the femur in the socket. And then the spica cast, all under anesthesia. Wikipedia tells us a spica cast is one where there is a smaller cast branching from a larger one; hence, a wrist cast that includes a branch for the thumb would be a spica. There are subspecies of this critter, and what Juni ended up with was a one-and-a-half hip spica. One branch goes to her ankle, and on the other side it stops above the knee.

So that's the medical part. Oh, and three months is the time part, with a remove-and-replace midterm because these li'l ones just grow so fast! The parenting part: Juni was just pulling herself up to walk and this will frustrate her progress! So dad and I are busy designing machines for Juni. Joe came up with a great little table which allows her to sit comfortably--note the legs are splayed out--and do stuff with one year old toys on a tray with a lip so they're less likely to be launched (good in theory). As for our mobility aids? Well we tried, and cleverly at that, but she surprised us all: She developed her own point A to point B techniques, shown here

It's no summer festival for Juni, and it's all new for her sister Lily who is used to a playmate who doesn't tote literal pounds of plaster of paris. And Juni has discovered how, if she gets on her back, she can use sophisticated counterbalancing techniques to get her dorsal side up.

What it is from here: A window on the personality of this wonder-child who is teaching us about perseverance and spirit and acceptance.

Grandma and Grampa are proud of all four in this family.

About five weeks to go at this writing.

CinderBlue, Green Plow Coffee Shop, and, like, Beatnik Poetry

2009-11-24T15:15:00.000-08:00

He'd sit on a stool and drone on about a subject which would be the subject of several sequential sentences. Monotone was the music, eyeballs occasionally would stray from the crumpled manuscript to fasten on some object in the far distance, ignoring both the "Like, I'm into it, man!" and the mindless, wordless gaze returning to his.

Discussions on the way out would always have the word "existential" in them, and often.

That was the coffeehouse long before Starbucks. Music was usually singles, strumming an acoustic guitar in great earnestness.

Now Redmond Oregon's own Green Plow Coffee Roasters straddles those extremes with a coffeehouse that takes from Starbucks the idea of very good coffee, stirs in sustainable and eco-friendly requirements for their suppliers, and leaves behind the stainless steel and the tacky "I'm into coffee" tschotschkes. Result? Coffee that tastes good to taste and feels good to drink.

But instead of the lost-soul poet loosing his angst like a cocker spaniel doing its early morning pandiculations, Pat and Mandy have music. Like, f'r instance, oh, maybe, like CinderBlue let's say. (Be it noted: the picture of Lee Barker and his long time guitar playin' compatriot Rex Gatton was taken by Timothy Park. The image of the CinderBlue front line (and back) is from Joe Fettig. Thank you both.)

Ok, ok, it's self-serving to say that. They hired us, we did the job: Full house both times, and we didn't do any morose doggerel and we didn't do any whiny folk songs which one is required to sing with one's eyes closed, especially during the chorus.

So having linked these things up--the history of the coffee house in 1.5 paragraphs, the guilty-as-charged confession of the musician in the pictures, how come then the word "like" appeared multiple times in a sentence and that annoying affectation is back, loud and strong? Is it the coffee house that's the carrier of the virus?

Knowing Pat and Mandy, I think not. They're just enjoying providing the place for coffee, community and conversation, and when that list is expanded to include music, it's, like, way cool. The coolest man. So far plowed out, man. I mean, you know, it's like whoa.

Humility, Arrogance and the Barker Bass

2009-11-13T07:31:00.001-08:00

Frank Lloyd Wright said there came a time in his life when he had a choice, and he chose "honest arrogance over humility." Most would grant him this, based solely on his architectural work. It was of his time yet beyond it in its timelessness.

In 2003 Linda and I journeyed to Portland, Oregon (125 miles away) and were gifted with delightful accommodations downtown courtesy of our son, Joel. That night we caught the Max light rail out to the Rose Quarter for a Yanni concert. Big room. Lots of people. Big orchestra, big sound.

Yanni prides himself on the internationalness of his musicians, and that would include bassist Hussain Jiffry from Sri Lanka. We had met him months prior, and in fact spent some time that afternoon with him in Portland. Now we were in his musical presence and he was playing a five string fretless Barker Bass.

After the concert, we walked back to the Max stop, delighting in the crisp fall weather. I was quiet; Linda commented on that. "Hummph," I probably responded. She stopped me, got in front of me, grabbed my sleeves at the biceps and shook me firmly: "Don't you get it?" she said, lips firm, "An instrument you made was just played by a world class bass player in front of thousands of people...and that is happening in cities across America and Canada. Don't you get it? You made that bass with your own hands!"

Humility is a thick crust to break.

The Dodge brothers, early 20th century creators of the car later called the Dodge, were a quiet and surly pair. In the apocryphal story a man walks into their dingy garage and asks, "What's so good about this Dodge Brothers automobile?" to which one sibling snapped, "Ask the man who owns one!" And went back to his wrench.

Einstein knew how fragile his work was. "No amount of experimentation can ever prove me right; a single experiment can prove me wrong."

Comments from the web from Ed Goode, whose custom Barker Bass has been chronicled in prior posts to this blog:

"The quality of construction is perfect, but those of us that play Barker Basses have come to expect the highest quality. This bass does not disappoint in any way! Flawless, and I truly mean that in its most literal sense .... not a blemish to be found on her.

"...in the several hours I have played it at home it lives up to exactly what you'd expect from a Barker. Great sustain, deep lower end and a clear, well-defined tone on the C string."

I can hear the words but sometimes I can't internalize them. Other days, yes. Today.

Dag Hammerskjold: "Never, 'for the sake of peace and quiet,' deny your own experience or convictions."

That is a very nice bass, Mr. Goode. Very nice. My hands to yours; play it in good health.

High Desert Swap Meet, Part 5: The Unusual Things Which Followed Me Home

2009-10-30T08:45:00.000-07:00

Of course I spent some money. This is most definitely a Hunt and Gather expedition, and to return home to the cave without something of a trophy nature would be counter-masculine.

The small brass hinged Object of Great Mystery captivated me from the first view, but I put it down and walked on by. And I came back, and back again, like a persistent cell phone salesperson. I finally dredged up the lucre, and now I own the conundrum. What the heck is it? John Grey was proud enough of this design to have his name and--we thank you John--his profession cast into each and every one. But precisely what it did in that craft is beyond me. Your questions and theories are welcome, and there are a few more detail photos available if you desire them via email.

The second purchase had no mystery about it--a prop blade is a prop blade. Come to think of it, there was but one, so you might ponder where the sibling or siblings are. But no matter. Leaning up against a table, it presents a casual but not engaging presence.

Stand it on its hub, however, and it becomes instant art, 42 vertical inches of organic, graceful surfaces poised to slice the negative space, and that is what made this aluminum piece no kin to the brass: I was not leaving that booth without owning the blade.

It is on a table in the living room. The long term plan is for its own pedestal, either tabletop or floor, and therein would be some machinery which will cause it to rotate, slowly and randomly.

Years ago a musician friend here purchased a Paddi Moyer sculpture titled "Rain." It was essentially a bronze of a male Native American's head, but it was solidly in the category of art. He mounted it on a turning table in his living room, and as you rotated it, it would evoke different emotions. That experience taught me that three dimensional art benefits from various points of view.

The motor seems like a fun alternative to the slightly impractical pedestal-in-the-center-of-the-living room scenario.

The semi permanent home of the brass fur designer widget has not been determined at this writing. Perhaps John Grey will read this post and comment.

Ed Goode's Six String Stellartone Barker Bass Project

2009-10-22T08:03:00.000-07:00

We have no English word equivalent to the German "schadenfreude" (taking joy at others' troubles). Likewise we have no word for looking backwards and taking pleasure in what you did to get to where you are.

There are three parts to the joy of this project. First has been the association with Ed, the client, who is a bassist out of New Jersey. You can see some wonderful images of him playing on that site, as well as a detailed chronicle of the progress of this project.

The second look-forward-to-every-day part was the newness of the concept. What if, Linda and I had wondered, someone sent me a bass (guitar) that he or she liked, and I converted it to a Barker--same electronics, same neck, just the upright playing position and all the benefits that offers.

Obviously cosmic forces intersected: Ed's desire to move beyond his 5 string Barker to a 6, along with our interest in giving this process a try. The newness, the headscratching, the 3am insights, the doubling back to make sure that the next forward step was as unencumbered as possible--all these dispense oodles of endorphins from head to hands.

And the third part was getting a glimpse into the world of extended range basses. I know some players: Stew McKinsey and Gregory Bruce Campbell and Edo Castro, for example, and Fred Bolton of McMinnville, Oregon, who makes basses for the likes of these guys.

The thinking here led me into questions relative to, "when does a scooter become a motorcycle" and "when are heavy hors d'oeuvres actually a meal." It would seem that adding a 5th string to the long-accepted four of the bass was ok. Adding overdrive doesn't change the carness of a car.

But adding a sixth required not only a different player approach to the instrument but also new nomenclature. "Six String Bass" approaches the "Fourth Trimester" category. So now we have ERB: Extended Range Bass. Fair enough. And I'm honored to have been let through the gate and onto the range as an ex officio observer. I can't claim a place in the luthier's corral yet, but my boots prove I've been close.

Looking back, I embrace the three joys of the process. Nominations for a word to express that are welcomed!

High Desert Swap Meet Redmond Oregon part 4: Rat Rods and the Pendulum of Style

2009-10-12T10:51:00.000-07:00

The beginning of hot rods, 1950: make it faster. The next step: make it original.

If you were in the first group, you spent your time under the hood. In those days, if you were dealing with an inline 6, you could actually stand on the garage floor, butt against the inside of a front fender, and be up close and personal with valves, carburetion and the conducting of high amperage spurts of electrical energy.

Second group? You know sandpaper, you know mallets and dollies, Bondo, primer, more sanding, masking, masked up, and the ultimate joy of wheeling her out into the sun for the first real look. You would see a part on an Oldsmobile and imagine how it could be blended into your Ford, and then go home and by golly do it.

I was a-fringe of all this my high school years, never having the resources for my own vehicle but enjoying riding shotgun with Jan, and Hank, and Ken.

The 90 weight lube and lacquer thinner didn't make it to my bloodstream but I did follow hotroddom through the years as a casual observer.

When they got to jacking up one side of a car at a car show and sliding a mirror under it to show the virginal perfection there, they lost me. It wasn't about go, it wasn't about how it looked to the girls as we cruised by and it ceased to be about clever adaptations of truck parts to car or converting three taillights on one side to sequential performance. Instead it was the manifestation of an obsessive compulsive disorder applied to the connections between shock absorbers and axles and the absolute perversity of chrome run amok.

Enter the Rat Rod. As I have drifted ever closer to the outward marge of the periphery I have not been able to chronicle the pendulum hitting Side Dead Center with a clang and subsequently breeding, on the antipode, the Rat Rod.

Functional, clearly done with a budget, joyously free, untouched by any kind of perfectionism and unequivocally devoted to the absolute independence of the creator, these machines are singing their siren song on a specific frequency. At last: hot rodding accessible to Everyman.

The images show several of them from the Swap Meet of September 2009, Redmond Oregon. I celebrate their existence, their presence, their uniqueness and sometimes, idly, wonder just how much money and how much welding it might take to get on board.

Cayford's Barker Bass: Graphtech Ghost, Stellartone Tonestyler Upgrades, Part 1

2009-10-07T08:30:00.000-07:00

Some owners of the Barker Bass have described the tone as "more of everything." One argument might be to keep it pure: "No fads or fancy stuff" as one advertiser used to say. The other argument is, why not make it better? To start with something that good and add enhancements might just be an exponential improvement. That was Cayford's line of thought as we pondered the possibility of adding the Graphtech Ghost which is a set of peizo pickups individually contacting each string via saddles in the Graphtech bridge, stock on the Barker B1 four. Why not, then, add the Graphtech Acousticphonic preamp? All it would take is a little room in the electronics bay and a battery case somewhere on board--and that is an easy assignment on a Barker.

This peizo process requires some excavation below the bridge, noted in the photos above. These tiny, individual wires are routed to the electronics cavity and joined on a summing board, thence to the preamp.

The battery requirement is nine volts, but having had a bad experience with a battery failing mid-gig, I always suggest a double case with only one battery wired in so there's a fresh spare on board. Cayford agreed to that. The case goes on the back, out of sight.

Then came that almost-predictable moment: Hand on chin, thoughtful, he said, "Hmmm, as long as we're at it, why not add the Stellartone Tonestyler too?" Great idea. I'm a vocal exponent of this elegant and practical addendum to any passive bass.

This required a fourth knob now--the only external suggestion to an audience viewer that he's not playing a stock Barker B1.

Shop mission is accomplished, and the bass is back to Cayford at this writing for his installation of the electronics. We'll do a followup interview and post it down the line. Whether it's a nuanced improvement or trumpet-fanfared Innovation of the Century remains to be seen. And heard. The delight is in the team effort and the possibility of yet another way the Barker claims its place among unique electric bass instruments.

High Desert Swap Meet Redmond Oregon part 3

2009-09-23T15:16:00.001-07:00

Living in the United States between world wars and having a fascination with two and four wheel transportation: Now there's a First Wish that would be followed by a request for the genie to put away the magic bottle! One of the darling little ideas to reach fruition in the mid-teens was the Auto Red Bug. It went through some parent company changes, and existed in two distinct models: One, an electric motor harnessed to wet-cell batteries in the metal box behind, and the other, a small one-lung internal combustion plant that traveled sidesaddle with the wheel it drove--which dangled off the back like a crazy-wheel trailer of the fifties!

When, that lovely September Saturday morning in 2009, I saw this work of art in the images above, I knew what the creator had copied. It was not for sale--the vendor had just bought it himself. While it appears the dimensions are true to the original, the workmanship was clearly an exquisite one-off effort by someone who knew her or his way around a machine shop.

The power plant idea was kin to the fifth wheel noted above, but seemed more like the result of an AHA! moment when the anonymous creator spotted a Honda Trail 90.
That tall stud on the back? It just fits into a HT90 after you remove the front fork and wheel. The controls link up seamlessly, and you're on the road in your snappy little cyclecar, living the good life promised by the end of the War to end all Wars and freed from the waning days of the Edwardian era.

Knickers and Argyles. Gibson Girls. It all seems like simpler times.

High Desert Swap Meet Redmond Oregon part 2

2009-09-17T09:07:00.001-07:00

Non automotive: Plenty to see and experience. Under the heading "implied speed" consider the pedal car and the locomotive, right hand end of the table of toys.

What is it? I can't remember, but the seller had a copy of the patent there. It looks roughly like a juicer, but somewhat more industrial than we're accustomed to.

Jogger moms wouldn't do well with the perambulator. But it worked for us!

And finally, the Zenith media center. And that's the correct color--nearly as yellow as a caution light, but clearly still wood veneer. It was in such good condition that, once plugged in, it would probably get all those old radio shows like One Man's Family, The Green Hornet, Lum and Abner and Mary Backstage, Noble Wife.

High Desert Swap Meet Redmond Oregon part 1

2009-09-14T08:11:00.001-07:00

Here's the official subtitle of this annual event in Redmond: Antiques to old car parts, collectible toys to new toys. A car show of classic cars and even some cars for sale.

That's pretty good, actually, but it doesn't come close to covering it all. It's a big deal and a lot of people do a lot of work to make it happen. And when that first Saturday after Labor Day rolls around, I'm ready. Equipment: Shoes that will tolerate dewy grass for the first two hours, head covering, water, snack, backpack, and GO! Gates open at 7! Costs you nothing to get in, and you're in for, if you cover all the ground, and linger over this or that, 6 hours of joyful sampling of stuff for sale, friends to reconnect with, and stories to overhear.

When you hear these, stop and listen:

"My dad had one of these...it's the car I learned to drive..."

"I'm looking for a right front fender for a 37 Packard sedan..."

"Will that fit on a 55 Chevy?"

"What the heck is that?"

Fish stories, hard sell, dickering in the friendliest context imaginable, people puzzling over some strange object (usually not car related) that "I got at an estate sale," all here under the bluest skies and punctuated by squeaky wheels on rusty old Radio Flyer wagons that are being pulled out to the parking lot to be loaded up so the buyer can come back for more stuff.

There will be several posts here about this year's sale. For the first time I took my camera. Later you'll see the split-personality object I bought which is now in the living room, as well as an inscrutable piece of hardware, with moving parts. I'll post some images of some of the cars that were on display--not for sale--and sample the non-automotive stuff.

All that, and I never made it over to the antiques section. We'll cover that next year. Can't wait until Labor Day comes and goes.

Oh, that little Rambler convertible for sale in the picture? Someone shoehorned a serious V-8 under the hood of that little julep. It's the quintessential Saturday Drags, Sunday Drive set of wheels. Surprise!

Small Woodworking Project: Candle Holder After A Chinese Pictogram

2009-08-31T14:41:00.000-07:00

The librarian thumb-flipped the book like a magician convincing you the deck was complete. She stopped, riveted by the one-page piece titled "Candelabra from Chinese Ideograms." The sparse, high contrast black and whites of the artist's work are juxtaposed with their inspiration: Chinese characters for umbrella and home. Home was it. "Someday I'd like one of these," she said, holding the Fine Woodworking book a little sideways so he could see it.

So he tackled it, unbeknownst to her. Yes, it is a small project, per the book's subsection, but that might just be referring to real estate on the workbench, or cubic feet of shop space, or board feet of material. It's about 16 inches wide and 7 inches tall.

She was presented it yesterday, in its own storage box. He explained that the lower part, the walnut, was from some lumber given them by friends, an elderly couple, who died this year. The other was material he had been saving, though it seemed too small to be of use.

He blathered, she stared. "Beautiful, just beautiful," she would say, between his stumbling sentences.

Happy birthday, Linda, the love of my life. The words my heart speaks sometime get to my hands first, and that's often how they're best said.

One Strange Coincidence

2009-08-20T07:51:00.000-07:00

We were on our way to the coast for a weekend away, my wife and I. It was the late seventies. Both avid readers, we agreed we'd stop at the used book store in Grand Ronde, west of Salem (Oregon). 20 minutes was our contract, limit 6 books. So we stopped, shopped and grabbed.

A few hours later, comfortably established in our motel room, I pulled a chair to the window on the Pacific and opened the topmost book from my stack: The Swiss Account by Leslie Waller.

It was published in 1976, ISBN 0-385-09661-5.

By now you've peeked at the pictures. Imagine my disbelief as I read that dedication.

I wrote Mr. Wallace, care of his publisher, and received a response--from Italy. Now, as I read about his life, I know he was there on his honeymoon. The Lee Barker whom he knew was an editor, LeBaron Barker, who had been a great help to Mr. Waller and who recently had died.

And the postscript: Years later we got a thing called the World Wide Web, and it made it easy to find other Lee Barkers. And other copies of the book. When I found one of the formers, I'd send a copy of the latter. Why not?

2009-08-13T09:04:00.000-07:00

After you've created something a bit new and realized that folks more than a mile away are wanting it, the image of putting your product in a box becomes something more than a passing thought. If your creation is not an easy three dimensional shape, and if it is fragile in the slightest, the ante is upped.

Enter Rick Wilcox and Columbia Corrugated Box of Portland. Once again it's Prototype Time: Try, fail, learn. The CCB pros created the bespoke box you see here. The stand, boxed, fits in it too. The key part is the die cut foam insert into which the bass snuggles like a puppy into the new afghan folded at the end of the sofa. Everything is padded on the top by the eggcrate foam and the gig bag. Barker Basses have arrived safely in places as far flung (from Oregon, USA) as Germany, Mexico, England and Venezuela.

Enter Mark DeHart of Rock Hard Road Cases which is conveniently located in Albany, Oregon. Mark designed the blue beauty you see in the images, using the tried and true foam insert. If you're touring, by surface or by air, it's the one for hard duty.

In between these two lands the case shown in tandem with the shipping box: A lightweight but still protective version that's easier to handle than the CCB box. It's shopmade here, and is usable without wheels and an end handle, and actually smaller in dimension than the box.

It's people like Rick and Mark that enable a small company like this one to be on the map.

And that's coming from the Barker Musical Instruments Shipping Department Manager. Who also is the CEO. And the Janitor. Photographer. And, periodically, the Blogger.

Fibonacci Series, Simplicity, Green and the practicality of CD storage

2009-07-31T07:31:00.000-07:00

Some stuff one can't throw away. A year or so ago I built a desk for Kevin Kubota, the photographer and he had discovered an unusual material which he wanted included in the design. It's a quarter inch thick, a translucent plastic-like material with patterned strips of bamboo embedded, and it is an environmentally respectful product. In the design exploration we discovered that the bamboo color echoed the sapwood tone of eastern walnut. (Often the sapwood of walnut is discarded, a notion that suited neither of us.)

So, desk completed, I ended up with a few small pieces of this material, which I have been hoarding. Then came the message (oooo-eee-oooo) to build a wall cabinet for storing CDs or DVDs or both. The overarching idea was simplicity, function, and unshowy craftsmanship.

Then I remembered the diagonal-cut doors I had included in a media cabinet for clients Gary and Tricia some years ago. About seven degrees, as I recalled, with apologies to Kevin Bacon.

Here's the result. Initial sketches explored the muntins (horizontal separators of panes) being aligned or being aligned but at right angles to the slanted stiles. Neither caused any friendly dashboard lights to come on. Because the left door is smaller at the bottom than at the top--a visually disturbing element--it seemed best to raise that muntin to give the doors equal weight.

The overall dimensions were driven by the Fibonacci series: 1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,34, etc.
The math is easy--add the prior two numbers to get the next number. The implications are huge. For us with a small calculator and a ruler, we can learn that the ratio of one number to its neighbor tends to become the same as the series progresses. I think that's dumbfounding. My friend Dan, the graduate engineer, says it's reasonable.

The cabinet had no opinion, but seems to be happy at about 22 inches by about 32 inches.

On this very informative site about Fibonacci we learn that this realm is a "constantly expanding branch of number theory."

Meantime fiddling with these numbers makes a pleasantly-proportioned cabinet, would you not agree?

And yes, it is for sale, $395 plus shipping.

Addendum 8/10/09....And it is sold!

Bookmatching and Equilibrium and Ed Goode's Six String Bass

2009-07-17T07:45:00.000-07:00

Small pleasures: I will walk across the street to look closely at a car if the logos on the hubcaps line up. If I am waiting for a green arrow traffic light and the blinkers on the car in front are in synch with mine, I smile.

When the outside temperature and inside temperature aligned recently, I grabbed my camera (see image).

Bookmatching wood brings the same kind of delight to this instrument maker.

The process is simple: A board, thick enough to warrant getting sliced in two and narrow enough to fit in the larger bandsaw (7.5 inches) gets opened up to reveal mirror images. It's a traditional look on acoustic instruments, including the violin family and ranging through all the fretted instruments even into electrical ones.

How this came about is unclear but perhaps this explains: Resawing was the way to make larger boards into thinner ones (imagine apprentices working a pit saw) and, in the interest of speed, boards were arranged and glued edge to edge to make larger boards and put onto instruments. But some, by chance bookmatched, looked more interesting and pleasing than others, and thereupon became the gold standard.

Even resawn, the boards for Ed Goode's six string Barker Bass offer choices: They can be arranged A edge to A edge or B edge to B edge (see the drawn figure; select two boards for one type pattern, move over one board and look at the two boards for the alternative).

Then I look for how the pattern will appear on the body. The body's lower bout (widest portion) is the larger palette--it is not interrupted by pickups, bridge and controls. I like to see visual weight there, preferably about centered on each side.

In cabinet making, the rule for bookmatch is "cathedrals up" which means arches or arrows point vertically. Often on the Barker I look for an arrow down in the center so the long, triangular tailpiece sits roughly parallel to those lines. (You can see this illustrated in a pair of the boards in the sketch.)

It's a privilege to be making these decisions. As for Ed's bass, the rare curly fir pattern is so consistent throughout that finding a nice mirrored puff for the lower bout was the only decision required.

And that other picture, of the fence in the alley about four blocks from our house? Look closely--two are bookmatched!

Harmony and symmetry surround us, there for our delight.

Wheeler County Bluegrass Festival: Meet CinderBlue

2009-07-08T15:52:00.000-07:00

Through the graciousness of Jay Bowerman and his band, Quincy Street (of Bend, Oregon) we were invited to the Wheeler County Bluegrass Festival last week to join them on stage for a few tunes during their gospel set on Sunday morning.

This is our third time out: Meet CinderBlue: Marlene Stevens, vocals; Jeff Stevens and Rex Gatton, guitars; Lee Barker, bass.

The venue: The lawn of the county courthouse. The Friday night-Sunday event includes name bluegrass acts, a local songwriter's contest--and the song must be about Wheeler County or the county seat, Fossil itself--a gospel scramble, area acts, wonderful food vendors, a car show (across town--two blocks away, that is) and the most attentive, relaxed and delightful crowd you could dream up. Bluegrass, unlike many genres, is multigenerational and it fosters that unashamedly. We had a great time.

Takeaway observations: (A) By far most bassplayers at this event were women. Ten to one, I'd say. (B) There are frighteningly talented children--and I mean single digits in some cases--on their way up, carrying the High Harmony, Acoustic Instrument flame forward through the ages. (C) Diana, who did the sound, was the most efficient and versatile boardmaster to come along in a while. (D) My anxieties about appearing onstage with a non-doghouse bass were for naught. I was not run out of town on an electric rail, and many folks in fact commented on how good the bass sounded. And a nearly equal number had seen the piece on Oregon Public Broadcasting and enjoyed connecting the loop via hearing the bass in person.

Bottom line: We're invited back next year. We wish it were tomorrow.

The Fourth of July Parade in Redmond Oregon

2009-07-03T08:03:00.000-07:00

It started last fall when the neighbor hit a root with his aging riding mower. "I can fix it," he said, and he's a resourceful guy. "You'll never find a new shaft for a 20 year old mower," I replied, and I won that one. I was doing figure eights in the driveway when Linda came home from work that day.

Months of effort later, with significant help from my friend JD who furnished the pressure tank and the wand and inspiration, we have the Parade Entry #64

Shooting water was always at the core of the endeavor. Shooting it surreptitiously came later.

The water exits the wand at about 7' from the ground, a few degrees from vertical, meaning it is heading forward. It goes up to about 16 feet then returns to ground about 21 feet downrange.

I can drive the tractor at walking speed, extend my hands sideways, palms up, in an, "I'm totally innocent" sort of gesture and nudge the trigger with my left shoulder and someone may get wet. If I go much faster than walking speed, I get wet, running into my own bullets as it were. Either outcome is good for a laugh.

It will be 90 degrees for the parade. I expect a hero ribbon, but it's more likely a certificate that says "participant."

Total cash outlay for the project--less than $100, including the $50 to get the busted mower in the first place.

My friend Chris has taken his tractor-type mower and made it into a 9 foot long dragster. Photos of that one later.

Time to line up. And try to find a place that's not behind the mounted posse. Or a float with a lot of water-soluble crepe paper.

"...Booked out and bound to go..."

2009-06-22T14:53:00.000-07:00

Big Bill Broonzy: "I got the keys to the highway, booked out and bound to go..."

Mike in Westminster, Maryland purchased a Barker Bass and it set out on the journey last week.

But before that, well, here's your behind the scenes peek. Though the inventoried basses hang in a pretty clean room, it's not perfect. Dust, like a desperate pilot, always finds a place to land. (You can get a feel for this room, including the photo corner, on this Oregon Art Beat segment from Oregon Public Broadcasting.) So first, cleaning. Compressed air first, microfiber cloth next.

Then to the bench for setup as if it were just assembled: Neck relief, string height, string spacing, string radius, pickup height, tuning, intonation and checking for the proper amount of Barker Mojo Fluid.

From there, back to the SemiClean Room for playing, double checking the feel of everything, noting the balance of string tone, and snugging down the Mojo Fluid Dipstick.

Wrapping is a little more involved than you might think, with protective foam between the strings and fingerboard, new, clean plastic sleeve over the whole instrument, custom cut foam blocking (the same foam insert in the custom box accommodates all three sizes of Barker body, provided this little added block is right) and then inserting the stand and bag set in the box, making sure the owner's manual is in there along with the wrench for string height adjustment.

Once all that is done and double checked, the final strapping goes on. It's ready to

"...leave here runnin', 'cause walkin' is most too slow."

It's a triumphant, top-o'-the-world feeling to have brought this instrument from nothing to something, attempting to instill in it my ideas about quality and beauty and joy, hoping that will be reflected through the hands of the new owner and into the ears of those who hear her or him play it.

Mike, welcome to the Barker family. She'll be at your door soon.

The Math of Dirt

2009-06-08T08:37:00.000-07:00

The long range plan: Replace the lawn between the sidewalk and the street--sometimes called "the parking" or "the terrace"--with pavers.

The motivation: conserve water and reduce mowing.

The steps so far:

1. ad on Craigslist: "free sod--you cut, you load, you haul." A young couple answered, did a great job.

However. That sod--50 years old--had grown tall with years of accumulated normal thatch decomposing and, in effect, creating soil. Setting the sodcutter at its greatest depth still left the remaining soil about even with the sidewalk and the curb.

"You've got a lot of dirt there, Lee," was the common comment from Those Who Know.

We enlisted the help of Rex (guitar player and contractor) and his wife Sharon and grandson Chance, and JD, manager of his rentals and owner of a stunning home which he built by himself up in the Ochoco mountains. And among JD's credentials, maybe the topmost: He owns a tractor with a bucket. Add Linda and me, and you've got the crew portrait.

The soil to be removed measured thus: 3 inches (depth of paver) by 588 square feet. If one focuses on the inches, it doesn't look like much. But what you have is 147 cubic feet, which is nearly 5 1/2 cubic yards--a small dump truck full.

It wasn't all tractor--shovels, landscape rakes, buckets of rocks up to large grapefruit size (and two marbles and a few shards of a flowerpot).

Little barbecue in the middle of the day.

JD dumped the surplus soil over the fence in the back yard, raw material for Linda's dreams of berms and plantings.

I can't grasp the work it would have taken to get it there by wheelbarrow.

By 5 o'clock the paver area was raked free of rocks and roots and screeded to depth. Amazing.

Now it gets easier.

Love your friends.

Cleared For Takeoff

2009-05-28T07:27:00.000-07:00

The presence of a few twigs on the front porch coincided with the breezy part of spring, during which the local elms give up detritus stored through the winter when things are just not attended to by the Branch Manager.

Then we realized the robins were back. Likely it's the same pair that tried this last year and then, experiencing our coming and going and violating their construction zone, moved twenty feet west to the identical light fixture on the front of the garage. We enjoyed their courtship and shared effort in the construction. That fixture being lower allowed us to easily hold a camera up and snap the eggs, the hatch, the supersonic growth and the eventual launches.

This year, the garage was not attractive to the birds so we blocked off the front door and let Mother Nature nurture.

One half an eggshell appeared on the lawn. We feared the starlings had raided. But Linda's artfully held camera revealed at least 4 hatchlings. Now they're ready to go, all five of them! The image above was taken just before writing this on Thursday May 28. The alpha baby was wanting to do some demo flapping for the photographer, but a watchful parent dived at me. I found myself encouraged to get the heck away.

When I head home for lunch today I expect to see one or two gone. Not that I'm an expert on birds. Or on kids.

But I recall Peter Guy's first day, first grade, as I watched him walk away from me, down the sidewalk.

I remember saying goodbye to Joel, dormitory Freshman, after we unloaded his stuff at Southern Oregon University in Ashland. LiAndra shoehorned into her little red car, off to Iowa. Joe and Sarah, married and gone to fashion their own life and family.

All of them fledged and flew.

"Empty nest" is apt. A little sad, a little prideful, a moment in life when you hear that otherwise inaudible click and know that things have changed at this very moment.

Linda and I will enjoy reclaiming the use of the front door and our mailman will appreciate free access to the mailbox. Life will return to normal.

I just wish those little birds would send a postcard every now and then. Living mostly in a two dimensional world, we could learn from those who live in three.

Friday morning postscript #1: Alpha Baby Robin popped from the nest last evening and spent at least an hour hopping around the yard. Parents were always within sight, sometimes on the ground, sometimes perched above. At dark we lost track of both.

This morning, four still left in the next, enjoying the roominess. Parents still bringing groceries at an exhausting pace.

Monday Morning postscript: By Saturday evening all 5 were gone. Linda and I were fortunate to see flight #1 of Gamma Robin, from the nest, straight line to the Ponderosa, about 20' as the, er, robin flies. The parents stayed attentive throughout the major exodus, not only keeping track of the boots on the ground but also the in-training class still doing wing-flapping calisthenics in the gradually uncrowded nest.

I've added an image of one of the adolescents, could be Gamma, or Delta, or even Epsilon. Instinctively, when they're on the ground, they stay around cover, as this one was, close to the flower bed. From the back they look pretty drab, but on the front the speckled breast is charming. I had no luck getting close enough for that kind of shot. Besides, one could only imagine the hullaballoo over publishing such an image.

We're enjoying using the front door again, but a little sad that the drama is over.

Introduction to the Ed Goode Six String Barker Project

2009-05-20T09:15:00.000-07:00

He bought his Barker Bass used, so I never really got to know him until his writings--terse, direct, entertaining, well spoken--showed up on the Barker Bass forum and elsewhere, always with kind and enthusiastic tidbits about his relationship with this vertical bass. I started paying attention to Ed Goode

Then the hammer. He wanted a six string. He is one of an elite crew, the Extended Range Bassists, who have used the bass as a vehicle to explore not only new sonic territory but to challenge conventions of building the very instrument. Stew McKinsey comes to mind, as do others such as Gregory Bruce Campbell.

One of the builders who consistently rises to the top in this realm is fellow Oregonian Fred Bolton who consistently pushes himself and his designs into admirable results.

So with a confluence of gently unrelenting pressure from Ed and inspiration from players and builders, I figured out a way that I could sidle into this genre of instrument without a full-on retooling away from the heart and soul of the company--the four and five string Barker basses.

Ed leapt at the opportunity, which required him to furnish me with a 6 string bass guitar of his liking. From that, to reduce the process to a mere line, I have the components to produce exactly what he is looking for: The Good Stuff of a Barker with Much More String!

In the images above you'll see the very rare wood which will grace the front of this bass: quilted fir. I had just a few boards to select from, and this one wins because of consistency of pattern and color match. Both sides are shown. The board will be resawn and bookmatched for the front of the bass. Also note how the colors in the fir bring out the reds and browns in the rosewood fingerboard.

From time to time I'll bring you up to date here on this process, which will be interwoven with another effort in the shop which, in a sense, heads quite the other direction but is driven by enthusiasm equal to that of Ed. Soon you'll meet Craig.

Without these two bassists, this could have been Just Another Summer.

Trashformations, Part Last

2009-05-01T08:06:00.000-07:00

This is 60% of the products of 5 years participation. Missing are the wood tower which blew over after several years in the front yard, and the whirligig on massive bearings, driven by wind onto family size pizza pans (sold to a neighbor).

What you see here are Java Jeeves, the coffee butler; Her Royal Bugness, Queen Noreen; and this year's piece, One Thing Leads To Another. All are installed at the Redmond Oregon Public Library.

If you have any comments, know they're always welcome. If you have questions about any of these works, fire away. I like to answer.

I try to keep the subject matter moving on this blog, but since Trashformations is really about Earth Day and all that, it seemed right to, ahem, reuse the topic a couple of times.

New stuff next week. Though it may be made from old stuff....

Trashformations, Part 2

2009-04-27T08:19:00.000-07:00

These images are scant reflections of the sanguine spirit that prevailed that weekend at Pakit Liquidators in Bend, Oregon. (See previous post for more background.)

Captions for the snapshots: The big bird was created by two lady welders--it's not often you get to use those two words in tandem--and they were a constant joy. We laughed about hiding the tape measure. "NO MEASURING!" they'd say if they happened to walk by. I'd occasionally visit them as a tape measure cop, seeing if they were packing any Stanley heat. They were just having a blast, making the sparks fly.

One of the larger scale projects was the boat, built by Dave. The arcs are from garage door rails--aha, you say, now you recognize them!--and the rest, just Pakit flotsam and jetsam. Mechanical types know that the side flanges of these rails often have bearings built in, and he used two of them and threaded a propeller shaft right on through. The low angle of the sun here tells the tale: He's about done with this. It was a startlingly graceful creation.

My effort is shown, sun likewise low, and the busy background makes discernment of the elements difficult. In the next post I'll put up a formal portrait of the finished product.

Completing something like this is a game of stages, sort of like Beethoven's 4th symphony. (I know, that's a stretch. Just listen to the last movement. It will bring you to a new level of understanding of the final hesitant steps of this endeavor.)

After two weeks of display at the Old Mill District in Bend, the more mobile projects were displayed at the weekend Earth Day celebration downtown.

Once I got "One Thing Leads To Another" back to the shop, it was difficult to ignore the sirens' keening wail. I occasionally had to pry myself away from bass work and pull out a few drawers of Stuff and Fasteners and, much like the archetypal al fresco artist, lean back and hold out a vertical screwdriver and squint past it at the "canvas." Never knew why they do that, but I tried it and I felt very official. Then I'd say, "What the heck" and bolt something on.

Next post: Portrait of the done work.

Trashformations, Part 1

2009-04-10T10:33:00.000-07:00

Pat owns this fabulous store of reclaimed items in Bend, Oregon. Pat is concerned about the earth. Pat acts on his beliefs.

Once a year he hosts Trashformations. Local artists, anybody really, sign up for $25 and sign a release and, for 2 days, create art from the else of our culture. Some weld, some glue, some bolt, some frap. This year marks the tenth anniversary. I'm a five year veteran.

The time of year--April--can be challenging and chilly (see image of the hot tub) but it's designed to coincide with Earth Week, during which the final products are displayed. Better said, a show is mounted.

Buffalo Folsom is the coordinator of the event, and he and Pat make sure the welders have juice, the hot tub has fuel (see topmost image), and there's hot coffee and stuff to put on the barbecue for a hot sandwich anytime you want it. The creative energy in the air is palpable.

Again this year it was a delightful weekend. A future post will include more images. For now, we'll just set the scene: the center image is after turf has been established, tools unpacked and some material is accumulating. The lower image, embarrassingly out of sequence, is 7am Saturday morning.

Ladies and Gentlemen! Start your Art!

Dad's Basement Workshop and Sixth Grade Science

2009-03-19T07:31:00.000-07:00

It was in the basement, and it was where things got fixed. Window screens were made there. Baby food jars whose lids had been nailed to the underside of a shelf contained tacks and brads and staples. And there were cigar boxes with labels like "rope, light wire" and "small bolts." That was over half a century ago.

The family workshop, kid accessible, is a rarity these days.

When Mrs. T at a local private school began to appreciate that she had students who had no opportunity to work with their hands in the world of mechanical things, she asked me if I could help. Together we concocted this little series of science classtimes centered around "attaching things." The ostensible goal was to create a sculpture out of found objects. In fact, the kids were getting their hands on screws and bolts, adhesives from epoxy to polyurethanes and--the coolest of all--pop rivets! If you're going to use those things, you'll need to know about some tools, too.

I heard myself sounding like Norm on New Yankee: "Before we get started, let's talk about safety..."

I supplied the boxes of stuff--note the closeup of the sculpture in progress--and trays of fasteners and gobs of glue.

There was 100% interest on the part of the kids. Like bringing water to the thirsty, I brought stuff and they figured out how to use it. Smiles and intense questions were reward enough.

Many people I know volunteer at schools more than I do. But if you're not one of those, consider teachers' jobs right now, and the distractions that conspire to keep them from doing the best they can to prepare these future citizens, craftspeople, innovators, parents, for a life far more complicated than we can imagine.

Take your craft, your art, your skill, your experience into the office at your closest school and find out where you can fit in. An hour a week!

To be fair, it may take more than one try to find the age group you're wired for. But once you do, you'll be stuck to this service like you'd fallen into a large vat of epoxy, lag bolts, wood clamps, lock washers, phillips head screws, and, yes, pop rivets.

Take Your Barker Bass Dancing Tonight!

2009-03-13T09:45:00.000-07:00

Terpsichore. Not a word we get to use in casual conversation often enough. From the Muse by the same name, the one who inspires dance. You probably know where this is heading: Matt Dancing

Here is simplicity overlaid with logistical complexity beyond imagining by someone who has two weeks of vacation a year. But if you used to have two weeks and now have no job, these few minutes could be good medicine.

The Barker Bass, from the point of view of the creator, your writer, can tend to be seen in the shadow of a sacrosanctity that would not allow humor.

But there are days when humor is not only the best medicine but also the only bottle in the medicine chest.

Hence these optional endpin addenda (which are indeed for sale) and may be just the right touch for that certain gig.

Installation requires the removal of the rubber tip (it's glued on but can be forced off) and the temporary insertion of a pilot shaft which is a permanent part of the accessory.

Accessorize your bass! Adornment! It's subtler than a rubber chicken, more environmentally friendly than a string of flashing Yule lights, and more easily removed than Nascar stickers!

Above all, take a moment to dance with Matt. Good for your head, your heart and your soul and everything in between.

Overtones to Ringers and Clangers

2009-03-03T14:58:00.000-08:00

Grandpas are honored at the neighborhood thrift store on Tuesdays--half price if you're over 55. So the pot lids you see in the image were south of $2.50. Punch a few holes just so, thread some weedwhacker line, install a horizontal beam to the windmill tower, and, voila! oops, silence!

Well, you've got to bore and smush some golf balls on a couple of dowels.

Voila! Still silent. Something missing.

Add one granddaughter, Maya by name, and the symphony begins! It was chilly and almost dark, so we just got the first movement (allegro) in when dinner was announced.

Maya continued next morning, in the fresh snow.

The other image is the current grandkid array: Lily, Maya, and Bjorn. (Missing is Juniper, three months, not interested much in looking out a window at grandma's camera.) The three spent that day at Cline Falls Ranch where they proved that grandma's delight in goats is indeed a genetic thing. And then there's the wallaroo...

Ringers, Clangers and Tailors

2009-01-30T09:02:00.000-08:00

In the 1998 movie "Bad Manners" (David Strathairn, Bonnie Bedelia, Saul Rubinek and Caroleen Feeney), a musicology professor finds, from a computer-generated collection of random tones, a clear quotation of Martin Luther's hymn melody "Ein' Feste Burg." That's not the story, but a small platform from which we shall leap to bell ringing in England. Ignore the vertiginous transition!

Legend has it that Dorothy Sayers (author of the Lord Peter Wimsey novels) wrote 'The Nine Tailors" after coming across a brochure backgrounding change ringing in England's churches--the practice of making music by following prescribed patterns to ring various bells, each controlled by an individual at the rope.

This sounds easy until you consider the size of the bells and the anticipation required to get things moving in advance of the clapper actually contacting the bell.

The tradition is rich and deep, and continues to this day. It all seems to hark back to an initial printed work by a man name Troyte, whose name is far from forgotten among those who study and practice this arcane art.

The 8 bells in the tower at Fenchurch St. Paul are in fact salient to the Sayers story; the Nine Tailors refers to a sequential ring of one bell--Tailor Paul, the tenor bell, and the largest there--announcing the death of a parisioner. Tailor Paul, according to the novel, is a 41 cwt (over two tons I think that would mean) bell tuned to C. Paul's companion bells have intriguing names, some cast, as Paul, by John Tailor in 1887: Gaude, Sabaoth, Dimity, Jubilee, John, Jericho, and Batty Thomas.

Seen through a wide angle lens, music came to and has remained, in large part, not a random product. But does that automatically exclude random tones, never repeated, from the realm of music?

The photos above are from my back yard. Parts came from junk shops and thrift stores. The tubular, tranditional wind chimes were made to formulas found on the web. The longest tube is 40 inches.

The "cymbals" are former diamond saw blades, 18" in diameter. The welded rings which "play" them are some kind of fine steel; they ring beautifully when struck.

The large chrome chime, with three clappers, is an aluminum planter, 19 inches tall, 18 in diameter. It shall forever be known as Tailor Paul.

They ding gently in the smallest breeze. When gusts cataract through our east-west back yard, it's metallic anarchy. And strangely musical to my ears! Random patterns, never repeated, joyfully chaotic but so pleasant that invariably smiles result.

I have not yet heard a snippet of "A Mighty Fortress..." and I have not intentionally gone out and struck Tailor Paul nine times, following with one strike for every year of the deceased's life.

But it is music, found, and it makes a life richer.

Find some music of your own today. Let it lead you somewhere new.

Eight Minutes and Four Seconds of Fame

2009-01-12T08:54:00.000-08:00

Oregon Public Broadcasting (Television): Oregon Art Beat. Each week the two hosts, KC Cowan and Jeff Douglas, profile three artists from our state. Last week was our turn. The clip lacks the hosts' introduction, but KC appears in the shop segment. And Wanda, our pound hound, does a little backside cameo.

Tell us what you learned, and didn't. Comments always appreciated.

Barker Bass on Oregon Art Beat

From Treachery to Triumph

2009-01-07T09:01:00.000-08:00

Do you know the song "Perfidia"? Its whole tale is told in Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perfidia

Note the last line, indicating it was used in the off-Broadway show "Forever Plaid." In rehearsing for that show (as bassist) I saw, for the first time, lyrics I had hummed to through many recordings (though I'd forgotten The Ventures) on the Wiki list. And I had never got it.

I somehow linked it with "Poinciana", (The Song of the Tree) which can be played with the same slow latin beat. Both tunes exist in instrumental and vocal versions, and both, to belabor a point, start with the letter P and aren't words of everyday use in my world.

The opening:
To you, my heart cries out "Perfidia," for I found you, the love of my life, in somebody else's arms.

Pretty good so far--the singer calls the object of his/her affection by name (I thought) and is obviously crowing about the theft from another.

But things are going a little sideways now:

Your eyes are echoing "Perfidia", forgetful of our promise of love, you're sharing another's charms...

Our singer gets reflective through the bridge:

With a sad lament my dreams have faded like a broken melody; while the gods of love
look down and laugh and what romantic fools we mortals be...

And turns resolute:

And now, I know my love was not for you, and so I'll take it back with a sigh,
Perfidious one, goodbye!

Perfidious one? Well, "perfidia" is Spanish for "treachery." You can take it from there. Perfidia is not a name at all!

Shallowly, I thought it was a song of love. Well it is, but it has a surprise ending.

Hear a snippet, bridge to close, here:
http://www.mtishows.com/show_detail.asp?showid=000152

And I have a new word to try to use 7 times today.

Ginner Gets an Upgrade

2008-12-29T14:08:00.000-08:00

The new purple abalone knobs came from Qparts (q-parts.com) with the express intention of doing a quick and subtle upgrade to #99, Ginner, described in an earlier post.

The knobs are labeled "black" but I knew that it was not the coal black, but the silver black they were describing, and that matches exactly the tuning machines on Ginner.

But alas the knobs were too big, too much girth.

Tim, my business neighbor, guitar player and laser genius, took a look at my quandary and said, "Brass, sure, I can do that!" and in about 20 minutes he had all three turned down on his little mill (see illustration). That shoulder allows the knobs to fit into the counterbore that is one of the hallmarks of our design.

I took a picture precisely 1/3 through the installation so you can see the difference between the two knob designs.

It is reasonable to explore the possibility that the new ones do not protrude enough for rapid deployment. I'll know in a week or two. Because of the Stellartone retrofit, the pot shafts middle and lower are shorter, so the knobs sit down in the counterbores a bit more than the stock knobs, which are taller to boot. As a result, the top pot has to be lowered in the cavity a little bit--requiring an extra nut and washer. If your B1 is stock, it will need three extra nuts and washers (which I can furnish for you).

Meantime I am feeling like a 50's kid (and I am one) that just got a new set of hubcaps for his '51 Shoebox Ford DeLuxe Coupe with torched springs in front and Fingerhut seat covers. (I don't have one.)

One note if you choose to go this way: the knobs are packaged individually. Of my three, one was in perfect condition but the other two were abraded on the abalone surface. They had a dull, not shiny look. I noticed this too late, and rather than return them I had to fix them. About a half hour with Micro-Mesh abrasives and a little water, and all three shine like the sun off a just-thawed pond on a late winter morning.

In retrospect, it's just a little gift I gave myself. Excuse me, I've got to go write a thank you note now...

Dignity

2008-12-19T09:30:00.001-08:00

It started with a regular citizen who knew our town had a fairly new city commission charged with placing art in public places and all that surrounds that.

At the outset, that commission spent nearly a year creating its own policies and procedures and then set itself to its mission: enhancing the lives of Redmond citizens via the addition of art that all can share.

The first two works can be seen at www.gregcongleton.com . Click on "installations" and then eagle and the cowboy. They're called "Air Traffic Control" and "Western Swing." Greg is a longtime friend--his family and mine were in the same babysitting coop nearly 30 years ago--and his art is powerful on a number of levels. Enjoy a tour of Greg's work.

A few weeks ago, in a lovely ceremony on a warm early winter day, a crowd gathered to unveil the art commission's latest triumph: a bronze called "Dignity." Pictures attached.

Rodd Ambroson grew up in our town. His journey to art is beautifully written on his web site: http://www.roddambroson.com/index.html where you can see the range of his work.

Back to the citizen mentioned at the beginning of this: Bob Vancil was aware of Rodd's work and suggested it to a member of the commission. From that beginning came the reality of this expressive artistic statement gracing the entrance to the Redmond Chamber of Commerce and Economic Development offices. It could be your first impression of Redmond.

In his remarks at the unveiling, Rodd said she reminds us to "dress up, show up, and do the next right thing." Let it be an inspiration to us to find our own road to dignity. Wonderful things will happen and all will benefit.

Stellartone Tonestyler Revisited, and Hello to Ginner

2008-12-12T08:11:00.000-08:00

Back in October, 28th to be precise, I said "in a week" I'd post pictures of this bass. It's been a long week, but here they are. #99. Called "Ginner."

Since completing this assembly and setup, I have played this bass twice weekly at church.

Something's new there: Little post-its on my music that say things like B-4 or M-0 or N-1.
They're reminders to roll to the bridge or neck pickup or the center detent which is both. This is the middle knob.

The lower knob is the Tonestyler. The numbers in my top secret alphanumeric code refer to clicks from the most bass position, which would correspond to "off" on a volume knob. (The top knob is a master volume.)

The amp stays set the same, no preamp fiddling, no foot pedals, just click and go. Sounds sort of like some kind of kitchen floor cleaning gizmo, but it's not. It's an astounding upgrade to a Barker Bass.

A word about Ginner. I had targeted that bass to be my own from the beginning. There was a flaw in the body--not easy to find, but I knew where it was. It couldn't go out the door as a typical representative of the marque, so it stayed around, its future marked boldly: "For Lee."

One year at NAMM we met some delightful men from China who were vending instrument hardware. They were our neighbors across the aisle. We became friends, and they were intrigued with the Barker Bass. On our last day there, they insisted I take a set of their tuning machines. I graciously accepted, out of a sense of diplomacy as well as professional curiosity about less expensive instrument hardware. The machines went into the same figurative drawer as the marked body.

And there was that endpin that Rod, my welder (really, that's his name) missed--the plate a little askew from the shaft.

And Stew at Nordstrand had been gently reminding me that he thought a set of split coils would sound really good in a Barker. I bit on that one. More in the drawer.

And there was this orphan neck. It was not quite "right" but I knew that I could make it work for me.

It looked like an ideal platform for testing the Stellartone.

In fact, I could test the Tonestyler on any Barker B1--it leaves no marks or scars--but I was convinced, from Will Witt's experience with his B1-5 and my playing the Brio here, that this was going to be right down my teacup.

I like it a lot. Ginner will be around a long time.

She's named after my mother, who died in mid October. Mom survived the Depression by getting by. She was a saver: "You never know when you might need one of these..." She was genius at making do. She would appreciate that I built in her honor not a perfect, top-o'-the-line bass, but one characterized by the triumph of using what's at hand. #99. Unique. Of humble origins. Stands tall.

Unretouched Photos

2008-12-10T08:42:00.000-08:00

December 9, 2008: I stepped out the shop door last night, headed home, stepped back in and grabbed my camera. Enough said.

Words And Their Intrinsic Artisticossity

2008-12-02T09:21:00.000-08:00

That's a Wordle. I did it here: http://www.wordle.net/ It's Linda's fault, she's the one who put me on to pasting a block of text and then tweaking it to make it art. I selected stuff from the Jaguar Amplifiers web site. How does it strike you? Does it stand on its own art feet? Does it additionally pull you into to some ideas, some concepts, that speak not to the other, but to the original object of the text?

I love words. I got that from my dad, who was born the son of a printer, became one himself, working for years both full time and part time as a Linotype operator in the days of pots of hot lead. That alone would not necessarily facilitate the leap to wordsmithing, so perhaps his dad, who did considerable writing, fostered the passion.

(I must inject this: In the latest Wireless catalog, the vendor of cuteness to the Public Broadcasting Fans of the World, there's a shirt that reads, "I'm a Wordsmith, which is like Blacksmith, only without the tools and fire and stuff.")

I have always enjoyed the attempt to find the right words, and the music in them, but I never spent much time ogling letters in combination. Linda, however, the Mrs. Barker of Barker Musical Instruments, is a self taught graphic artist who gets excited about typefaces.

She created the B logo for the Barker Bass, and is responsible for much of our print stuff.

Now I can't write something without wondering what typeface ought to be used. And I admire the results when someone else nails it.

Henry Clift is the powerhouse behind Jaguar Amplifiers. He's the persistent type, with the 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration ratio hardwired into his genes. He starts with an idea and proceeds doggedly until it is realized.

You can read the story on the Jaguar Amplification web site, http://www.jaguaramplification.com/index.html

I like the way his bass amp sounds. My oh my. And I like the way those typefaces look.
And on top of that, his story is Wordle-Worthy.

(To see that Wordle in a bigly way, just click on it!)

Gregg Juke and the Mighty Web Site

2008-11-26T11:02:00.000-08:00

It's got rhythm: Gregg Juke and the Mighty No-Stars. Start tapping your foot in a strong 4, and say those words. Bah Bop a da BoP ah BaDah. It's practically the whole song.

Last week on American Routes on public radio, Nick Spitzer did a long piece on the Meters, a funk band from New Orleans. One of the good stories was of their trip in their Mercury station wagon (just right, huh?) when the motor sucked two pistons but kept running and produced, for these four opportunistic, creative players, a beat that they converted to a song. My visual image is their lurching down the highway, a 2-laner, of course, smoke chuffing from the back of this faded yellow land barge, and hands on both sides out the window, thumping on the roof (Mercuries resonate particularly well in my imagination)in complex time.

Since then I've been sensitive to rhythmic opportunities, but in the end I come back to words.

Words like "full disclosure." Joel Thomas is a bass player who endorses the Barker Bass. He is the bassist in Gregg Juke and the Mighty No-Stars. And that's how I got to their newly-minted web site.

It's a dandy. In fact, as I was reading through it, I kept noting how well it was written. This was puzzling in its uniqueness, given what we often encounter in the way of words at band sites. The No-Stars paragraphs have panache. They fit the photos.

Though they don't put it up in a banner, I think there's a mission statement in the text, thoughtfully woven. Again I am wondering about the quality of the writing when I come across the part about Gregg Juke being a published writer. And we know he likes to read, and it's not just comic books, though he has the platinum self esteem to include them in his list.

And back to the photos. Ok, I give them a 7 for the ultra quaintness of the brick building with the creaky wooden staircase, but I'm up to a 10 for the messages on the faces. These are guys you'd invite to your table between their sets at your family reunion. (Provided Melvin wasn't there; he always tells the same trucker and accountant jokes. I get the feeling these guys have heard them all, too.)

There's something else on this site I have never seen before. They honor the subs. My observation is that most bands kinda mumble names when there's somebody new sitting in because Leon had the epizootic and couldn't get off the sofa. Not these guys. They put their pictures right up there, practically giving them equal billing, honoring them for what they are: heroes of the first water, willing to head to the front lines and see action when they're needed.

See what I mean? This is a site of sites.

Spend a little time.

Ponder that painting on the bricks. How'd they do that?

Now I think they owe me a T-shirt. Size L. I'll pay the postage. I didn't say all that much nice, and besides it's all true, nearly.

I'm headed back there to listen to some blooz: mightynostars.com

A Mercury Station Wagon is about all they need. Faded yellow if you can.

What's At The Center Of Good?

2008-11-18T14:20:00.000-08:00

"Passion," Cyndi said. I hadn't seen her for maybe months, and we go way back. I hadn't really asked a question directly. We just crossed trails in the produce section at the grocery store Saturday and so we stopped to chat. She was talking about managing her office and inspiring her staff, and she kept coming back to the word.

I wouldn't have thought of the word when I was looking about for a company to do the Barker Bass website, 5 or 6 years back. I just knew I wanted it to look good.

Just like every neighborhood seems to have a guy with a Sears tablesaw in the middle of his garage which he refers to as his "cabinet shop", so does every extended family have someone who "has done a whole lot of web sites and he/she could do yours, and fast too!" Right. And they do it in their spare time, no doubt. If you pursue this line of thought, I'll guarantee you'll find a bunch of not so good sites and many broken hearts before you're done looking.

If you have not been to the Barker site, you can get a flavor of it by looking at the header here. More? www.barkerbass.com

Turn down your subwoofer, ignore the flash, and look around like you had just been ushered into a garden. It's beauty everywhere, at least that's how I see it. And I don't say that because it's mine, I say that because the man behind it, Ian Blackie, envisioned the colors first, passionately, and has done the work since. We talked about palette before we had prepared a word of text or talked about taglines or discussed what I wanted the site to do.

Ian comes from printing. Sounds odd, doesn't it. You'd think a good web designer would come from techie stuff, from flash and html and the eerie Land of Codes. If I had it to do again--not likely--I'd look for someone with an eye for color. It all seems to start from there, and if there's passion at the center of good, there can be only one outcome.

Even now, after years, if I am imagining an addition to a page, we'll talk about the colors and how we want it to tie together and where we want the first impressions to land.

That might seem odd for a site that's about an instrument that makes music, but it's not. Our concern is about first impressions.

I get a lot of compliments on the site. They're usually in the superlative, and have never been followed with a conditional or exception. I'm remiss in not passing these sweeping words of praise on to Ian, who is at

http://www.adwebcommunications.com/index.php

His passion shows in his work and we shouldn't let that slip by. We need passion at the center of good more than ever.

My Shadow is Bigger

2008-11-12T08:11:00.000-08:00

"I see how your instruments sound so good--it's because of what you put into them, with your hands. Can a factory, where everything is controlled and precise, get the same quality, along with consistency?"

That's not the kind of question I can answer (though I stumbled at it, hands in front of face), nor is it the kind of question I expected from a high school kid who spent the afternoon with me in the shop and the office.

His name is Brandon, and boy howdy can he ask questions. Good ones.

It wasn't a random matchup. When he was asked by his job shadow advisor where he'd like to spend a few real-world hours, he said, in humor, "at a guitar maker's shop." He didn't know there was such a place, but the advisor did, and the connection was made. An afternoon seemed to me like an easy enough contribution. Meantime Brandon had prepared his resume (and, yes, there were jobs other than ones with the word "pizza" in them) and a portfolio of his interests and abilities.

He is a musician, and though it wasn't written there, I'll tell you he is gifted. He writes, he plays guitar, drums and bass, and he hears stuff. And, it seems, he hears it in layers he can unpack so others can recreate his ideas in ensemble.

It's clear that he loves music and instruments and all that surrounds that. He also likes innovation and problem-solving. We had lots to talk about. I had plenty of listening to do. I think my plateful of learning that day was bigger than his.

If we, at any age, think back to how we learned about the workplace, how we act in it, and how it eventually became demystified for us, we might even go out and look for opportunities like the one that stumbled through my phone--a chance to host a high school student for half a day and answer some questions and ask some, too. It's a very good thing to do.

You might be the one hitting the bouncing base hit that allows the 18 year old runner to advance to third, poised to score her or his first real job on an intentional career path.

Rolling From Interest to Passion

2008-11-06T07:44:00.000-08:00

Cooper is 5 years old and lives next door to us. "Is that an easel?" he asked as I was unloading one of Linda's one day. "Yep," I responded, pausing to gauge his interest. It was there. "Artists use them to hold their work while they're painting or drawing," was my See Spot Run description.

He turned nonchalant, bouncing his basketball. "I have an easel too. I use it every day. I'm going to be a professional illustrator when I grow up." I realized I was the one who was about to get the learning.

Cooper has a passion. Early. But some of us start with interest which might not go anywhere.

That would be my case with astronomy. Interest. If I see an interesting volume at a used book sale, I might buy it, might not. Might read it, might not. But I would read it with interest.

Linda and I met Will Witt some years ago at a BassQuake in the Bay Area. He was with his cousin, who is a demonstrative, enthusiastic musician who took to the Barker Bass right away. He ooohed and aaaahd and played it and backed away from it to view it from all angles. Will hung back.

As I write this today Will leaves California, with his Barker Bass, to play in Papua, New Guinea and eventually to Singapore. And doubtless some other places. The band is called Kokua, which means "to help or assist" in Hawaiian.

Will's interest in the Barker Bass, seemingly slow blooming at first, has turned to a passion.

He took bass lessons from Doug Mancini, another Barker player, in Santa Cruz.

In recent years he has grabbed every opportunity to play all sorts of music with lots of different musicians at a wide variety of venues.

He has become an anchorman in our NAMM booth, ready with the invitation to play, helpful with the explanation of the notions behind the design of the bass, and eager to demonstrate how easy it is to play.

And he hands out postcards. One year, after Gene Simmons had stopped by the booth with his son and a film crew, we were all standing around stunned while Will trekked off down the aisle and handed some Barker postcards to Mr. Simmons. That's passion.

It was Will who took the time a year ago to drive to the Barker Headquarters in Central Oregon to help us conceive and, humbly, to star in, some YouTube videos. And it was all his original music.

This is the young man who was hanging back while his effusive cousin took the spotlight.

When you meet Will you get a sense that his passions are deep and that, in his life, they will lead his decisionmaking.

We are grateful that part of his passion is expressed through his playing a Barker.

It's likely that Cooper will indeed become an illustrator, and that he will be as good in his calling as Will is in his. It is a privilege to be present to watch them both.

Followup on the Stellartone Tonestyler Newness

2008-10-28T10:22:00.000-07:00

Last night at home I spent over an hour on the B1 with the new setup: Nordstrand split coil pickups, with the electronic configuration shown in the image on the previous post. Top pot is volume, the center pot is a blend. Roll it clear one way, get the neck pickup, clear the other way, get the bridge pickup, and stop at the center detent and you get both 100%.

Here's the cool thing: volume remains constant through that movement. My oh my. And no hum.

Bottom pot is the Tonestyler, part #506, especially for bass.

The first thing I noticed was the fullness of tone. If you own a Barker Bass, particularly a B1, you know fullness of tone. I heard more yet. Sort of like discovering fourth gear when you're doing 90 in third (not that I've ever done that, of course, ahemmmm).

Now about the Tonestyler itself, the bottommost pot. It has detents, a most wonderful addition to this sort of thing. Rather than look down to see where the set screw is on the knob, or trust your muscle memory to move the pot just like you did last time, only in reverse direction, you just need to count the clicks!

The sounds I personally prefer are those on the bass side of things, and in running through a bunch of show tunes with a CD I was moving from full bass or one click past that in the ballads to up about 4 clicks for eighth and sixteenth note parts where I wanted more definition and a little more cut-through.

You'll find your sweet spot, or rather sweet spots somewhere along that delicious 16 click spectrum, and the gem of all this is that you can go back and get that exact sound whenever you need to.

And what a sound. Oh shut up, I heard someone over my shoulder say. Ok, ok, I'll not go back to that.

I'll just Thank Don Campbell and his company, Stellartone, for offering something with real substance to the electric players of the world. The Barker Beanie is off to you, Don!

www.stellartone.com

In the next week I'll get some pictures of this bass, #99. Actually, she doesn't look any different from her siblings. Disguised. Stealth Barker. Beware.

Perhaps she'll go trick-or-treating with me. I'll dress up like an old guy who likes to make tall basses.

Relentless Innovation vs. Let It Be

2008-10-23T05:40:00.000-07:00

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

If that bromide had been extant when Leo Fender's Precision Bass had been accepted by the world, how little we'd have now. For sure, we wouldn't have the Jazz Bass. The idea of not one, but two pickups! Wow!

The initial decision at Barker Musical Instruments to use the traditional, single coil Jazz Bass electronic array was a conscious one: It represents a known, it is versatile enough to respond to an array of tonal demands from players of many different schools, and it just looks, well, right.

The later decision to add the Precision Bass configuration in the lower cost (well, we like to say, "more accessible" but this time I'm not going to) Brio model was partly to honor Leo's groundbreaking instrument and partly to offer a choice. Both layouts have their passionate adherents.

Will you see more of this movement toward complexity from Barker Musical Instruments? Well, on my watch, you probably won't see anything approaching the image above on the right. (The gentle pejorative is "knob farm" but in fact there are wonderful bassists, especially the extended range players like Stew McKinsey (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stew_McKinsey) and Gregory Bruce Campbell (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gregory_Bruce_Campbell), whose breadth of musical ability and imagination respond to options way beyond what we mere mortals can grasp.)

Still I attempt to remain open to subtle improvements that can combine with the inherent and unique sonic virtues of the Barker Bass--tone and sustain, mainly--to lead the player's hands to discover something new, exciting and useful.

The image on the left is the underbelly of an exciting option to the Barker Bass. I have mentioned with some anticipation the Stellartone Tonestyler. Now, thanks to Don Campbell from that company, I have combined it with a slightly different wiring scheme that changes the Jazz configuration from volume, volume, tone to volume, pickup blend (with center detent), Stellartone. The first one off the bench, tuned and plugged in, gave me goose bumples from note 1.

It is an outstanding improvement. In time, the parts and schematic will be available on the Barker site (www.barkerbass.com) for retrofit and it will also be possible to order this configuration on an otherwise stock B1 four or five string.

The Stellartone Tonestyler also brings new shades and sweep of tone to the Brio, in a simple replacement of the tone pot.

Like your Barker as it is? Let it be.

Want a little more? We can do that.

Persistence

2008-10-15T07:43:00.000-07:00

"Virginia, you must not sing. Do not ever sing." That was her stepmother, the piano teacher. The little girl looked down at her ragged shoes, looked up, and when it was clear there was no more to be heard, turned and walked quietly away.

She didn't sing. But when her daughter was old enough for band, somehow the family came up with a clarinet. There wasn't a lot to do in that little Montana town, so the daughter got good enough on that clarinet to get some college scholarship money.

She could sing, too. That, went the story, came from her dad, but that conclusion was reached in the absence of what she might have gained, both genetically and experientially, from her mother.

Her son, two years junior, sought the trumpet. Those were the guys who got to stand up and play solos, after all. What's not to like about trumpet? But through a couple of strange twists, he ended up lugging an old, silver, dented Eb upright tuba home.

Practice sounds in that small house couldn't have been anything close to enjoyable.

He, too, excelled on his instrument. No solos, but plenty of encouragement at home. And eventually at one college, after auditioning, heard, "I'll match any scholarship you get offered anywhere else." He landed at a different school for other reasons, where the tuba contributed four years of scholarship money.

The third child, somewhat later, is a singer like her sister, and took to the guitar, mostly as self accompaniment. She, too, would talk of the encouragement.

Virginia was proud of her kids, but never prouder than they were of her when, as a widow who had scarcely ever had a job, she went to business school, graduated at the head of her class, and took a position as a medical secretary. She eventually retired from that office.

Things looked good. She had purchased a house on her own and her three children were grown and gone and making their way in the world.

"You have two choices, Virginia," the doctor said. "Either stay here in Montana and die or go to Seattle and take a course of experimental treatment. Aplastic anemia is fatal."

She opted for the experiment. That was 1981. In the course of the treatment she was getting one or two blood transfusions a week. When that series was completed, she moved near her son. No one knew how long she'd live...a few days? a month? six weeks? six months? It's the stuff you don't talk about. When the subject comes up, you look down at your shoes, look back up, and walk away.

She lived to get to know and love her five grandchildren and four greatgranchildren. Plus two stepgrandchildren and three greatgrandchildren from them.

All these kids are growing up knowing the power of encouragement that she modeled. All will know her story, of conquering a fatal disease and living not days, not weeks, but 27 more years.

Virginia Barker died October 14, 2008 at age 90. She was preceded in death by her husband, Brentwood Barker, in 1968. She is survived by her daughters, Bernie and Cathy, and her son, Lee.

Anatomy of a Part

2008-10-07T08:44:00.000-07:00

This might be boh-ring. I'll try for scalpel-like editing and terse sentences.

It was clear in the early aesthetic evolution of the Barker Bass that something needed to happen in the center of the lower bout. The tailpiece was the logical reference to the vaguely ancestral orchestral bass.

At the same time I had imagined a bass with extra long strings that went through a custom bridge and then were gathered near the top of the tailpiece, just as orchestral bass strings attach there.

That concept was a failure for a number of reasons, the most compelling of which was the bother of the longer strings. I wanted owners to be able to access the delightfully wide range of available standard length electric bass strings in order to plumb the depths of the sonic possibilities of the Barker body. (terse sentence score: -14)

Another downside of this string-gathering idea was the necessity to remove the tailpiece to change strings. Not attractive, as were the screws to allow that.

So along with the upside of the sleek tailpiece came the challenge of attaching it in such a way that, while the fasteners were invisible, the tailpiece itself could still be removed in the prelude to a refinish job sometime downstream.

It took a while. I keep a gallery of failures on my wall, silent sentinels reminding me of ways not to make a Barker Bass. They are indeed my friends, and the idea of relegating them to the dumpster was repugnant.

Poring over unlikely catalogs of fasteners finally yielded the answer: A "semi-permanent" (their words) two piece attachment device which, though inexpensive on a per each basis, required considerable development in the preparation of the mating surfaces and the eventual development of a purpose-built machine dedicated just to inserting the part into the tailpiece. (terse sentence score: -21)

The machine is named after Jim Erickson, longtime co-member of the Dry Canyon Philharmonick, who was helping me in the shop at the time. I will subsequently take a picture of the machine and back-post it on the blog (translation: the camera is at home).

Violin family instruments typically and traditionally have ebony tailpieces which match the ebony fingerboard and provide a nice visual completion of that strong central line. I preferred not to use ebony for the tailpiece and save that highly valued wood for fingerboards, its highest and best use.

The next deep challenge of the tailpiece was to make it look so much like ebony there would never be a question whether it actually was. Again, over time, the solution was developed to a measurable degree beyond my highest expectations. (TSS: -9)

Most think it's ebony. You are now on the inside! Maybe it was worth the unterse sentences!

Thus ends this brief exposition on the history and development of the tailpiece, a visual component of the Barker Bass unique to the B1 series. How it got there is still cloaked in a little mystery, but somewhat less than when you started this boh-ring post.

Not bad, eh?

I know, I can do better.

Escape to Beauty

2008-09-30T09:12:00.000-07:00

The point is to get away from it, right? Take a vacation, go to someplace different, get your mind reoccupied. And, for the most part, my journey to Washington DC with Joel Barker accomplished that.

Except, that is, for today's two illustrations, both from the National Museum of Art. Consider first the image with the columns. The person there is actual. That make's those marble beauties tall. Awe inspired, I looked up a long time before I looked down. It was then that I saw the beauty: In the base. I suspect few focus there, but the curves, the taper, the proportions all I thought were inspirational.

Second, a sculpture in a corner. There's something delightful in looking at the representation of a scene with kids and there's no adult there saying "don't!".
But more than that, here's a budding bass player! Note the date--about 1776.

Too many strings for a player of my ilk, but an Adam Nitti or a Stew Mckenzie or a Gregory Bruce Campbell would be playing that thang raht now.

So, base, bass, it's a channel I can't turn off in my head, and being surrounded those few hours by that art may indeed have some subtle effect on some small part of the Barker Bass one day. Design is never done. And that's good.

Four Days in the Capital of the United States

2008-09-24T10:00:00.000-07:00

It was a gift from Joel Barker: Let's go to DC!

We spent four days there under perfect skies, among skimpy crowds, spreading our time from the sublime (The Lincoln Memorial) to the delightful (A Smithsonian exhibit chronicling Jim Henson's work and the life of the Muppets). All recommended. Only the most calcified heart would not be moved by the power and simplicity of the Viet Nam War Memorial. Only the most disinterested citizen would not recommit to more involvement in the life and health of the the country after seeing the Magna Carta, the Declaration of Independence, and the Constitution in the National Archives.

The atmospheric space devoted to the Wright Brothers and their accomplishments (Smithsonian Air and Space Museum) shows not only the separate and distinct personalities of the siblings but also their exquisite work as bicycle makers and their intentional, scientific approach to unlocking the secrets of flight. Anyone interested in developing something better from something less can benefit from a study of the Wrights.

Inscribed on one wall of the Lincoln Memorial is, of course, the Gettysburg Address, long held as a stunning example of writing. On the opposite wall is the text of his second inaugural address. Less known, just as compelling. The man could write, and he could write from his personal pain through his love of his country.

Seeing these sorts of things is a remarkably inexpensive project, once you're there. We walked. Everywhere. If you'd rather not do that but don't care for the bus route, you can take a Segway tour. All the Smithsonian is free admission; likewise the National Gallery of Art, the Archives, and the Museum of Natural History. (The latter received heavy lobbying from the dinosaur interests, evidently. They're everywhere!)

More specifics about the bass allusions in the next post, next week.

For now, start looking for bargain fares.

(note: I just discovered you can click on the images to get a closer view. The Segways are worth it.)

The Silver Lining

2008-09-17T10:03:00.000-07:00

"It's the economy" is to contemporary conversation as the Stanley Do-All is to the homeowner's toolbox.

What's to learn every day is how we're all affected, worldwide, and in that way connected more than we were aware even just yesterday.

Yet there are those who thrive. My neighbor to the Barker Musical Instruments brick and mortar sells supplies to auto body shops. That industry seems plenty busy, what with folks hanging onto the older car, maybe fixing it up a bit, rather than signing off on some 30k rolling stock with payments that ramble into the future like a restless cosmic cowboy.

It is not a truism that entertainment is doomed in a down economy. Extreme example: during the depression, the movie business thrived. It was the escape value, of course, but isn't that what entertainment is?

I have stumbled across an entertainment, mostly local to France, which offers us musicians hope.

It's called Les Joutes. Roughly translated, "The Jousts." But not ahorseback, no, this is on boats. Sometimes rowed, sometimes outboardmotored, these graceful craft have a platform high astern where the jouster--in status and limited skillset, think Sumo Wrestler--stands adored. And, as you can easily imagine, the boats approach each other and the jousters, armed with blunted lance and a shield patterned after a cafeteria tray with dividers to keep the green beans out of the meatloaf, attempt to encourage the opponent's imminent interface with the water below. Great fun.

And pageantry. And color. And music! Live music!

And, according to the article I read (Sebastian Rotella, LA Times), "...It is a point of pride that no one, except the musicians, makes money off jousting."

Hey! There it is!

Having provided this cheerful piece of news, I'm signing off for a week. Look for the next post downstream...

Hand Made, Hand Played

2008-09-15T15:25:00.000-07:00

The arrival of the UPS driver is not an unpleasant thing, it's just a routine thing. And while it interrupts the task flow of a one-person day, it often produces some latent peace because now you have the 500k pots, or the peculiar fasteners, or some expected shipment of something important.

Often those boxes come from AllParts, a Texas business which furnishes many of the small hardware parts on Barker Basses. Their warehouse is Houston, so my mind of late has been focused on my favorite rep there, Sean, and how he and his colleagues are faring through the aftermath of Ike. I will report when I hear from them.

Today's visit by the driver was completely unexpected--a small box, book shaped. Just a catalog, I thought, but I didn't recognize the return address: Sterling Publishing.

You may know that marque better as Lark Books. Inside was the latest, Hand Made, Hand Played: The Art and Craft of Contemporary Guitars by Robert Shaw.

Mr. Shaw had contacted me over two years ago and I had furnished him some stuff--image files the size of the Grand Tetons, and text to go with--and had heard nothing else. I checked a couple times and emails got returned, so I presumed the project had been shelved.

But no!

There's a Barker Bass, page 375. The first bass entries are Fender, two pages, followed by Barker and some Bs but then the alphabetization theory falls apart.

I have had the honor of meeting some of the folks behind some of these best o' breed beauties--like David Minnieweather of Portland, Oregon and Skip Fantry of Knuckle Guitar Works in Seattle.

When you compare the number of basses in the book to the guitars, it ups the honor of being included. I am humbled.

The book would be a delight for anyone interested in instruments, pushing the limits of craftsmanship, or just beauty in form, wood and texture. And then there's art.

In the latter category, just in the bass section, my vote goes to the Goldbass by Claudio Pagelli of Scharans, Switzerland. In miniature, it would make a stunning pendant worn by that woman in the little black dress.

I could find no mention of this fresh-off-the-press book on the Lark website, so perhaps this is pre-publication. But it's not too early to be thinking about seasonal gifts, and asking after it at Barnes and Noble or your local independent bookseller.

And keep an eye out for the UPS driver. You never know...

Standing in the Shadows of....Los Angeles? Todd?

2008-09-10T08:20:00.000-07:00

"Standing in the Shadows of Motown" should be required viewing for all aspiring musicians. It's a documentary of a unique time in the recording business, but much of what you see will resonate as UME (Universal Musician Experience). It's about earning a living. And it's a movie that mentors.

Tuesday September 9 on NPR's Day to Day program I heard a four minute story about a documentary film that we may likely not be able to see. Too bad: It's about top west coast jazz players who--no surprise--earned a living.

Here's the link to the story:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=94415433

We hear Carol Kaye, the pioneering California-based Fender bassist of that era, talking about the bass line she played on "Good Vibrations" of Beach Boys fame.

In his book "Bass Heroes", Brian Mulhern begins her chapter this way: "In the beginning, there was Carol Kaye."

I was fortunate to meet her several years ago. She is the paragon of the gracious musician, listening well and freely sharing of her experience. At the time she was keeping up active online conversations with bassists who had questions.

As musicians, we are fortunate to be able to connect with brothers and sisters who not only earn their living as musicians, but also are kind and generous enough to allow us access to their stories and their knowledge.

Todd Johnson reigns as the best example of this type of young player. Much of his time and energy go into producing educational materials for bassists--and it is very good stuff--and yet he is also right there in the trenches, "earning a living." When he is not on the road, he is one busy local player. And clinician. And then--in his spare time, heh heh--he is expanding the role of the bass with his revolutionary 6-string chordal approach. He must take vitamins regularly.
http://www.toddjohnsonmusic.com/

Mentors--film, radio, dvd, clinic--we thank you for your gifts.

For now, giving up the Ghost

2008-09-08T09:28:00.000-07:00

Friday witnessed a moment of clarity regarding my ongoing year long dance with the Graph Tech Ghost setup with the peizo pickups in the bridge.

I decided not to work on that for now. This is in spite of a finished body with all the necessary routing and prep work, including a special on-the-back dual battery case area.

The New Plan: Finish Leo's setup (this week) and then, as time allows, finish the ghostly B1 fretted four with Nordstrand J-bass pickups and the new Stellartone rig with a pan pot. I need to know how this is going to work, and the sooner the better. There is not a lot of time for tinkering at the present, so I want the projects to be focused and current.

There was considerable relief at this decision. That says enough.

Meantime, we are left with the question, "what happens with a peizo installed in a Barker?" If you can help, I think you'd have a lot of instant friends hanging on your every word of assessment once your project was completed.

I take comfort in the truth that an awful lot of "uprightness" can be achieved on the Barker with string choice and right hand finger finesse.

The Brio I've been playing regularly, with flatwounds, had a very woody quality to it. I did not go the next step--black tapewounds--but I think that would have brought more. I was happy with the combination of attack and mwah from that setup so I did not want to run to third base and then have to trot back to second. I just can't be that nonchalant.

I'm not even good at knocking the mud off my cleats.

Pins on the Map

2008-09-03T08:38:00.000-07:00

This last weekend I drove solo north to Seattle to help my sister and brother-in-law pack up stuff and pretty up their house as they prepare to move to Montana. Seattle can be a baffling place to drive, but I made it straight to their house--on Magnolia--with the help of a map courtesy Google.

Leo Goff's post on the forum mentions that there are now two Barker Basses in his town, Eads, Tennessee. And there will be three when I get his custom fretless four done. If I don't hear it by the end of the day, at least I'll have seen a needle bounce and know that there are excitable electrons on board.

Early in the life of Barker Musical Instruments I knew--by memory--where all the basses were, and I could even come close on what serial number was where. That moved into a time with too many to recall so I bought a map.

It's a US map, and a big 'un, 32 x 48 inches. I didn't really need it that big, I just like maps.

(If you share that quirk, check out www.ravenmaps.com and take a look at your state. Or your country. These people have taken maps to a level that enables you to convince your significant other that you have a piece of art that deserves to go right here, hanging on this wall!)

My US map in the office is more pedestrian than a Raven (I have those at home) and it's mounted on bulletin board material (burlap covered Homasote to be specific) so I can push pins into it with impunity.

Then came Germany. And Japan. And England. And Venezuela. So, shucks, I needed yet another map!

These are humbling things for me to look at.

The heartless business analyst would take a quick glance at the US map and say, "You're obviously not selling many in the Midwest! You've got to figure out a way to make the Barker attractive to those Norwegian Bachelor Farmers, and to the catfish noodlers of Oklahoma! A squiggly line from North Dakota to Arkansas wouldn't bump into a single pin!"

I, on the other hand, look at all the other pins and I think of the interesting bass players I have spoken to and, in many cases, met, and I feel just plain grateful.

Maps can help you get where you're going. Don't leave for Seattle without one.

And they can remind you where you've been.

Sale Bass Details and Mike Huckabee explainer

2008-08-27T10:19:00.000-07:00

The details on the basses on sale:

Brio #12, fretted four, in lovely blue. List $2595; Street $1995. Sale: $1595

Brio #13, lined fretless four, java. LIst $2595; Street $2195. Sale: $1755

B1 #89, fretted four, dark walnut. List $3795; Street $2895. Sale: $2355

Price includes stand, stand bag and gig bag.

And--get this--shipping is FREE in the USA!

(International buyers will receive a $75 credit)

Now is a very good time to step up to one of these Barkers--it's fair to say you'll not see prices this low again.

Pay by credit card (MC or Visa) or Paypal. toll free: 888.899.8302

Now on to Mike Huckabee. The Governor of Arkansas will be in Central Oregon for the High Desert Men's Summit on September 13. He is the keynote speaker, and is also scheduled to play bass on a few tunes.

Bassist for the specially selected all-star local band is Craig Brown, who will be playing a Barker B1 5 string fretted for the two days of the event. Mike will be sitting in for Craig. So likely Mike will play a bass guitar (he usually plays a four string) but he will see and hear the Barker there.

The Barker shop (factory and office) is about a mile from the event.

Now it is my job, as creator, luthier, promoter and general Idea Guy to figure out how to get to the point where stopping at Barker Bass is a Must Do for the Governor of Arkansas.

Your ideas and input are graciously invited!

Stealth info about Barkers On Sale

2008-08-25T10:55:00.000-07:00

On our morning walk today Linda and I decided to put three Barker Basses on sale. What do you think, "end of summer" or "back to school" or "fall cleanup"?

We haven't worked out all the details yet, but here are the three that will be marked down:

A blue four string fretted Brio, a java four string lined fretless Brio, and a B1 fretted four.

And in addition to the markdown price, your choice will be shipped FREE in the US. That's about a $100 savings.

As always, this includes stand, stand bag and gig bag.

If you're out of the US, we'll help on the shipping.

This is the first public mention of the sale. It's just our way of saying thanks for reading the Blog.

I'm off to work on the finer points of the sale, and do some direct email marketing to folks who have expressed an interest in owning a Barker recently.

In the meantime, here's a wretched teaser: The next post, later this week, will include a substantive mention of Mike Huckabee on Bass.

It would appear that I've seen too many melodramas where, as the act ends, the lovely Prudence is lashed to the railroad tracks and the evil Mr. DeMummery has vowed to get the deed to her land and Milton Sanguine, who could solve all this in just a few minutes, is busy studying for his accounting exam. Delmar Bravelung, living alone in his mountain cabin where he restores riparian areas along the virgin rivers, has just realized that he must make his way to town to buy more Krusteaz Pancake Mix. Will he ride his Schwinn on the railroad right of way? Or will he walk the short way, leading his loyal llama on the dangerous trails crudely cut through the loose shale of Mount Crabapple?

Allow me to introduce...

2008-08-21T08:50:00.000-07:00

That's folly, of course. If you're here, you know what Barker Bass is all about. So now we have a blog, a window into our company and, at times, into the scattershot thought processes of the owner.

I welcome your comments, your insights and your questions.

I will post twice a week, usually Monday then Wednesday or Thursday.

Today's shop project is to get three B1 basses in sequence for final assembly and stringup. One is Leo Goff's custom four string fretless (www.leogoff.net), notable for some aesthetic things as well as a little different electronic setup (more about that as we go along), and one will be, at least for a while, one of my players. It has the Graphtech Ghost bridge with peizo pickups, and I want to be with that option for a while so I can build an informed opinion about it. I may also tinker with some other things on that bass, provided they don't muddle one another up.

In creating testbeds there is an efficiency temptation to try several things at once. The result might be a flashy prototype but fuzzy information from the new ideas.

The music in my head today came from the Stolen Sweets (www.stolensweets.com) who played the penultimate Music On the Green concert in Redmond last night. It's that tight harmony, lots of rhythm guitar, slightly swooping yet ratatat music of the 30's. It was so very well done, and the bass player was a Gibraltar back there, and the arrangements were so varied, intricate and clever, that the time went by way too fast. It was in that somewhat rare category where the art of music becomes an illusion in time (like a painting may become an illusion in space) and we were there but not there. It was good to experience that with Linda (Barker) and Rex (Gatton) our guitar player friend and colleague of many years.

And rain threatened. The crowd, however, was bumbershot in preparation. Bumbershooted. Umbrellized. And on went the show.