Historic al Lute ConstructionRobert Lundberg

with photographt b) ' Robert Lundberg and Jonathon Peterson

Copyright 2002, Guild of American Luthiers

rsBN 0-9626447-4-9

First printing March 2001

The Guild of American Luthiersis a nonprofit educational organization founded in 1971

The following GAL staff members and consultantsmade significant contributions to the production of this book:

qndy Burton, Bon Henderson, Deb OlsenTim Olsen, Jon Peterson, Dale Phillips

Layout design by Jonathon Peterson

Section One title page photoshows a lute soundboard by Pietro Railich, Venice, ca.1600,

Brussels Museum of Musical Instruments, #1569.Photo by Robert Lundberg.

Section Two title page photo shows Robert Lundberg cawing a rosettePhoto by Jonathon Peterson.

Printed in USA by Thomson-Shore on acid-free paper.

Uontents

In Tìrne with the Universe. an interview with Robert Lundberg ...................... xtll

Section One: The Erlangen Lectures

Section Tko: Practicum

Practicum Six: Completing the Bowl and Fitting the Neck ....................... 130

Practicum Seven: Fitting the Belly and Planing the Neck..... .................... 136

Practicum Eight: Shaping, Veneering, and Attaching the Neck ...............1,42

Pract icum Ten: Instal l ing the Points and Fingerboard . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .162

Practicum Eleven: Installing

Practicum Seventeen: Finishing the Belly and Neck ............278

Practicum Eighteen: Installing the Nut, Frets, and Strings......... ..............226

Appendices

Foreword

I cennruTloN oF INSTRUMENT MAKERS has grown up with rhe

A Guild of American Luthiers, and hundreds of volunteer authorsI I have supported our experiment in information exchange. We haveover three thousand members in about forty countries and publish what wefeel to be theworld's foremost lutherie magazine,American Lutheie. We areproud of, and grateful for, the successes the Guild has achieved, and firmlybelieve our greatest accomplishments are yet ahead of us.

This book, and the Guild's many other publications, are evidence that theexperiment is working, and working at the highest level. Robert Lundbergcontributed the treasure-trove of material in this book to the GAL, as well asmany other articles and convention lectures, because he believed in theGuild's basic idea: that a free exchange of information among instrumentmakers is good for everyone, and a good thing intrinsically.

Bob Lundberg passed away during the production of this book. We wish toacknowledge the contribution to this project, undervery difficultcircumstances, of Bob's wife Linda Toenniessen and his daughters Branwynand Tàbitha Lundberg. Theirwork in researching materials in Bob's referencelibrary, and their enthusiastic support of the Guild's efforts to complete thepublication of this book, are greatly appreciated.

Bob's friend and associate Douglas Smith was a valued collaborator in thefinal months of the project, answering scores of detailed questions that wewould otherwise have referred to Bob. His book A History of the Lute fromAntiquity to the Renaissance isbeing published by the Lute Society of Americaat about the same time as this volume.

GAL stalwart member Lawrence Lundy gave valuable assistance in thematter of the Venetian inch, and luthiers Gùnter Mark, Jess Wells, CliveTitmuss, and Michael Yeats helped us wrestle with the unresolved issue of theunveneered neck. Clndy Burton, along with her partner Jeffrey Elliott,contributed time, effort, and energy far in excess of her official duties as aGAL Contributing Editor.

Due to the unusual nature of the book's organization, with the greatmajority of the material being in the form of photos and captions, we haveopted not to provide a single, traditional index. Instead, we have indexed theHistorical section in the normal manner, and provided a summary of thePracticum section. The summary should prove useful not only in gaining anoverview of the building sequence, but also in quickly locating the detailedinformation on any particular phase of the construction process.

It can be a shock to turn page234 and realize that the book has suddenlyended. There is so much more that could be said, but it will not be. RobertLundberg's passing was like that. We will have to content ourselves withbeing grateful for the gift he has left us, however much we may wish tocontinue the conversation.

\ l l

PrefaceHIS BOOK BEGAN as an agreement between

the GAL and luthier and scholar RobertLundberg to publish the lectures which Bob

had been presenting in his annual historical luteconstruction seminar, the Erlangen Lautenbaukurs,named for the German city inwhich they took place.The textwas transcribed from tape, edited, hammeredout, and arrangedwith Bob's photographs and drawings.The series appeared in five consecutive issues ofAmerican Lutherie magazine in 1987 and 1988'

In the Lautenbaukurs, five historical lectures werepresented over the course of a week, and were followedbv a oracticum - a lute-buildine intensive in which theparticipants, with Bob's help. applied the informationgiven in the lectures to build their own instruments.

Tim Olsen, the Guild's founder and editor, discussedwith Bob the possibility of presenting a photo essay inthe magazine in lieu of the practicum, perhaps two orthree articles. Tim put a camera in my hands and askedif I would like to take pictures of Bob building lutes, forwhich I am eternally grateful. Besides parenthood, itwasthe best job I have ever had. I had to learn to use acamera, so I did it on the job. For years I had wanted tomeet Bob and see how he accomplished his marvellouswork. What you see in my photographs is the eye of anintensely interested student attempting to see exactlyhow he accomplished each operation.

Over the next five years we spent scores of hoursphotographing his procedures, and in the process webecame fast friends. It was amazing the amount of workhe could accomplish over the course of a day. He neverseemed hurried. I never saw a misplaced chisel, knife,or saw cut. He didn't fuss. You simply do this, and thenyou do this. "That's good enough," he'd say, and thenmove on. He was so organized. It all looked so easy. Itwas all so excellent.

When I brought the first shots back to the office itwas immediately clear that the length of our practicumseries had been severely underestimated. Neither wenor Bob had any idea how long it would take to do athorough job, but the materialwas just too good for usto pass up, and he was more than willing despite theinevitable inconveniences that preparing for and doingphoto shoots, writing and editing text, advising onlayout, and answering endless questions imposed uponhis time. As he said in an endnote to the fourteenth andfinal episode in 1994, "I'm not sure that we would haveundertaken this project had we known that it would runfor sevenyears, nineteen episodes, 700 photographs,and some 70,000words. Wow!"

Over the course of the series it became obvious to allof us that this information needed to be collected into asingle volume. It has taken most of seven years sincethe publication of the final practicum episode inAmeican Lutherie to realize that goal.

Bob died of cancer in March 2001. He was fifn -nr oyears old, and had fought and won bouts with cancertwice before in his too-short lifetime. He had justrecovered from the second of those battles when anunrelated, extremely aggressive tumor was discovered.Despite the best efforts of his doctors and his enormouswill to live, he was gone in a few months.

We were working together on this book right upuntil the end, and most of the inconsistencies whichwere contained in the original magazine articles hadbeen addressed before he died, but there are a fewwhichremain. I have sought and received help in these areasfrom other people, but, with very few exceptions, wehave decided not to modify Bob's original text. Thereare, therefore, a few issueswhich deserve some mention.I will address them in the order in which they appear inthe text.

The first is the names of the different sizes ofinstruments in the Renaissance lute family (p. 8). Afterour original publication of Bob's presentation of theselute-family instruments, he changed his opinion of howthey should be classified. His initial designations forthese instruments, both in the magazine and in hisinstrument catalog (p.249),were (smallest to largest)descant, alto, tenor, bass, and octave bass. He asked usto change the names in the captions and table to readsmall octave, descant, alto, tenor, and bass. I askedBob's friend and fellow lute historian Douglas Smithabout this. Doug translated the Fugger lute-collectioninventory to which Bob refers in relation to lute-familyinstruments and their designations on p. 10. He saidthatwhile he preferred Bob's original designations,nobody has decisively figured out exactlywhichsurviving instruments correspond to each of the sevensizes that Praetorius mentions (pp. 8, 10), and thatDoug confirmed in the Fugger inventory names; that is,there is an open debate about the string lengths and thenames to attach to them. Bob's new designations causedme to scratch my head when compared with theclassifications in the Fugger inventory, but he alwayshad sound arguments for his opinions, and his model forthe proportionality of the instruments based onPraetorius'model stands, regardless of what the varioussizes of lutes are called.

The next issue concerns the Venetian inch (V"), theunit of measurement which Bob deduced was used byearly lute makers in Venice and Padua. He comparedthe proportions of their instruments and analyzed themin the light of sound assumptions about the practicaland efficient methods which are typically employed bycraftsmen at the workbench. Acareful reader will notethat although Bob refers to measurements in Venetianinches from the beginning, the closest he comes todefining a precise metric equivalent is on p. 57, where hesavs. "1" Venetian is about 27.4wtvr." If one does the

math where he has given metric equivalents the resultsvarywithin a range of just over 1mu. I asked Bob aboutthis. He said that any discrepancies are well withinworking parameters, being within a few tenths of amillimeter for the most part, and that if one was focusingon the discrepancies theywere missing the point: theconsistency in the evidence of the use of this measurementand its easily and practically divisible fractions speakdirectly of the way in which the ancient makers worked,and is evidence of their attitudes toward proportionality,practicality, and harmony. There is no way to know forcertain the exact metric equivalent since all we can seeare the results of work done using a measuring systemhundreds ofyears ago, not the ruler itself.

The third issue is that of the various spellings of thenames of the ancient makers. Here I will just say thatthey are inconsistent, and will refer the reader to thelist of Ancient Lute Makers onp.245, and to theaccompanying Note on Spellings onp.256. Again, weare indebted to Doug Smith for his research andexpertise in this area.

There are a few inconsistencies in the Practicum aswell. The first is that the formwhich Bob makes inPracticum One is small and smooth, while the one heuses in Parcticum Two is large and faceted. These facetsare critical in the rib-fitting process which Bobdemonstrated for us. He makes no mention of the smallform's lack of facets, nor does he give any informationon laying out and cutting facets on a form. The problemwasn't noticed until it was too late to ask.

As previously mentioned, the practicum episodes inthe magazinewere developed aswewent along. Theoriginal intention was to take one instrument tocompletion, but as the scale of the project grew, realityintervened and we eventually photographed work onfour different instruments. Some procedureswerephotographed out of order simply because that was thework that Bob was doing when I showed up at his door.He was a working luthier, and his workflow could notalways be interrupted for our convenience. In themagazine presentation we simply wrote around theseirregularities, or in some instanceswe staged operationsfor the sake of the camera.

When it came time to reformat the magazine articlesas chapters for this book, Bob gave me a list of the orderin which he wanted the various procedures presented,reflecting the order in which he usually constructed hisinstruments. We have rearranged the practicumepisodes to reflect his wishes, but because we did notoriginally photograph and publish the information inthis order there are some irregularities. Most are minor.For instance, on p. 1-06, Bob is shown demonstrating theproper shape of a bass bar by comparing it with theshape of the outline of a completed lute bowl, but we donot show the bowl being taken off of the form andcompleted until three chapters later. In another case,while the prepping and finishing of the bowl isdemonstrated in Practicum Fourteen, and Bob routinelyfinished lute bodies before attaching the pegbox, inPracticum Fifteen a pegbox is shown being glued to an

x

instrument which still has its half-binding taped in placewhile glue is drying. (Thiswas one of those stagedoperations.) In a third instance, Bob shows how apegbox is completelyveneered before it is glued to theneck in Practicum Twelve, but the veneer on the end ofthe pegbox is missing in Practicum Sixteen, when thepegs are being fit. This was rectified sometime beforethis neck and pegboxwere finished in PracticumSeventeen.

But the thorniest of the unresolved issues in thePracticum is that of the carving ofunveneered necks.After photographing work on a large ebony instrumentwith a veneered neck for six episodes (eight in thisbook's format), when I came toBob's shop tophotographthe gluing of the soundboard he was working on a mapleinstrument with an unshaped neck block permanentlyattached. In the text he said that he would laterdescribe how the shaping of this neck was to beaccomplished, but he never did. How Bob shaped andperfected surfaces is not a mystery - he demonstrateshis methods throughout the Practicum. The problem isthat we don't know how he would have held a lute witha nearly finalized body, where the only clampablesurfaces are those which need to be shaped, during neckcarving. I have talked to some of his former studentsand colleagues, but none ofthem ever saw him do it.Gùnter Mark, who attended the Lautenbaukurs in1981, said that Bob did not make a lute with anunveneered neck while he was with him, but he gave mehis notes (and editorial comments) from the coursewhich instruct one to: "put the lute face down on aworkboard coveredwith a sheet of rubber (antislipprecaution), fix the body of the lute with rubber bands(as the ones to fix the ribs during fitting), clamp theneck (whatever that means), make the cutout for thepegbox, work on the neckwith the drawknife, glue thepegbox." Other opinions on how the lute could be heldincluded: using shaped bench stops;working freehandwith the instrument held between your knees. or in yourlap and partially supported by the edge of theworkbench; shaping one sectionof the neck at a timewhile another section is held in a vise or is otherwiseclamped; temporarily gluing the neck to an underformlike was done for the shaping of a veneered neck.

That still leaves the question of when to carve theneck. The logical time would be after the half-binding isdone and the fingerboard is glued on and planed. Fromthat point on the lute could be completed as illustrated.The only difference would be that the back of anunveneered neckwould be varnished rather than oiled.

There are other small irregularities as well, but thereare going to be problems of accuracy in anywork of thiskind. We have tried to make the best presentation thatwe could of this body of information, and I am gratefulfor the partwhich I have been allowed to play in itsdevelopment. We would have made a better job of it ifBob had been here to help us finish. I only hope thatwhat we have done with his book is "qood enoush."

-Jonathon Peterson, Jqnuaw 2002

IntroductionROM THE LATE 15TH CENTURYuntil severaldecades into the 18th, almost all of the greatEuropean lute makers were German. They had

developed their craft in and around the town of Fùssen,on the River Lech in Upper Bavaria. Lech Valleyinstrument makers with the names Tieffenbrucker,Sellas, Maler, Bosch, Graill and many others eventuallyemigrated over the Alps to Italywhere they establishedworkshops in Venice, Padua,

of the l8th century was perhaps practicum portion of his annual seminar, Histoicol Lute

his stature. Both built hear,y, thickly-proportioned lutesusing the principles of modern classical guitar making,and consequently one has to play them much like oneplays the modern classical guitar. The primarypublished information on lute making in Germany was achapter in the book on guitar making byFranz Jahnel,which referred (erroneously) to historical practicesalthough his information and instructions had nothing

to do with the legendaryGerman lute-building traditionof the Renaissance andBaroque. Thesemakersapparently simply applied theirguitar-making knowledge to aninstrument whose shape theylearned from pictures andperhaps a cursory examinationof museum lutes. Or they didnot believe the evidence of theireyes and hands, that old luteswere very light because thethicknesses of the soundboard,ribs, and so forth were very thin.There used to be a popularconception that the wood inthese instruments had dried outand shrunk over the centuries.Odd that the wood in other oldartifacts did not exhibit thisproperty.

Suffice it to say that most20th-century lutes made beforeabout 1970, not only inGermany, were in terms of theirconstruction principles morerelated to the 2oth-centuryclassical guitar than the 16th-century lute. The curiosity of

young English and American luthiers who madepilgrimages to English and Continental musical-instrument museums to examine carefully the old lutesis directly responsible for reconstructing the body ofconstructional principles necessary to reestablish theancient historical lute-making tradition. Theygenerously shared their observations and ideas witheach other and with players who soon began to demandmore historically-based lutes.

One of the first and most influential luthier-scholarswas Robert Lundberg, who in 1974 published an article,SLrteenth and Seventeenth Century Lute Making,intheJournal of the Lute Society of America. This landmarkstudywas the product of his trips to museums in London.Vienna, Brussels, The Hague, Nuremberg, and elsewhere.where he examined and measured over seventyinstruments. I had the privilege of tampering with that

Thomas Edlinger of Prague, aviolin makerwho rebuilt oldItalian-German Renaissance lutes in the Baroque style(with more strings and consequent new, wider necks,pegboxes, and bridges). Afew makers, like JohannChristian Hoffmann of Nuremberg, or Joachim Tielkein Hamburg, still made lutes from scratch. But after themiddle of the century the lute was scarcely played anymore, so the tradition and knowledge of making them -

which extended many centuries back beyond theirgenesis in Fùssen to Italy and ultimately the Near East- s imply wenl lo sleep.

The first lute I ever played was one I borrowed fromthe University of Washington's School of Music when Iwas a student there. It was made by Hans Jordan ofMarkneukirchen, Saxony, who was then (in the early1970s) the most renowned German lute maker of the20th century. The guitar maker Hermann Hauser, whoalso made a few lutes, was the only German luthier near

Construction, in Erlangen, Gennanl' This book is baseduoon the maîeial presented in îhose seminars

article editorially before it was published, and soon metBob. I have valued him as a close friend ever since.

When I went to Munich on a postdoctoral fellowshioin 1977 | began to meet lutenists there. Two who wereinstrumental in the genesis of the Erlangen lute makingcoursewere Gerhard Sóhne and Sepp Hornsteiner.Gerhardwas then a student of mathematics andGermanics, but he had aspirations to lutherie instead ofan academic career. I perceived in him a penetratingintellect and great enthusiasm for lutes, but he wasfrustrated by the total lack of resources for learninghistorically-authentic lute making. How ironic thatMunich is only about 100xrra from its cradle in Fùssen.

On a social outing with Sepp I was introduced toDieter Kirsch, professor of guitar and lute at theWùrzburg Hochschule fùr Musik. Dieterwas alsointerested in making lutes, though for him it was ahobby. I told him about Bob's instruments and hishistorical knowledge, and the idea to invite Bob to give aseminar was born. We were not sure if we could coverthe costs, but decided to risk it. Dieter advertised in aguitar publication, and happily, more than enoughstudents signed up. Dieter handled the administrativedetails, and arranged for the course to be held in thesummer of 1978 at the Erlangen Musikinstitut.

I remember the atmosphere amongst the students,some of them experienced lute and guitar makersalready, as quite convivial. It radiated from the teacher.In Germany, an instrument maker typically guarded histrade secrets closely, and ofcourse he therefore learnednone from his colleagues. I recall that the students wereinitially slack-jawed as Bob revealed trade secret aftertrade secret to them: how to perform this or that sort ofoperation to achieve a historically authentic result,where were the sources of proper wood, and so forth. Itwas infectious. They perceived the benefits and beganto open up amongst themselves.

The course was so successful that it was repeated inexpanded form which included a practicum until 1988.All told, some 230 students were exposed to the basicprinciples of building Renaissance and Baroque lutes byBob Lundberg, and quite a few of them are now amongthe most prominent lute makers on the Continent.

Gerhard Sóhne later spent a few months with Bob asan apprentice in Portland, but he now considers that hemakes lutes completely differently, though stillaccording to historical principles, which Bob stressed inhis courses. He and the others had learned enough tobecome independent, which is the greatest gift anyteacher can give his students.

However, Robert Lundberg's ultimate gift to theEuropeans went beyond this. After its slumber of over200 years, he returned the great German lute makingtradition of the Renaissance and Baroque to its source.With this book Bob now passes that lute makingtradition to the whole world.

xlt

- DouglasAlton Smith, March 1999

In Tirne with the [Jniverse

Roben Lundberg, in his shop in 1987, doing some minor adjustmentsto an ebony and ivory chitarone which he had recently completed.

OBERT LUNDBERGwoTks in a tiny room justoff the kitchen of an averase sort of house in anold, tree-lined neighborhood in Portland, Oregon.

There are none of the usual marks of a luthier's lair: dust,solvent smells, or clutter. The house has a Japanesebareness. No shavings strew the floor, but one thing iscertain: The gerbils in this home nest in the best!

Lundberg has had his ups and downs during his career as aprolific lute maker, a leading exponent of the authenticlute revival, and a respected scholar, lecturer, conservator,and restoration expert. As with many of us, his devotion tothe craft has had its personal costs. Yet it strikes oneimmediately that, far from being jaded by his experience, heis bursting with enthusiasm for lutherie. With delight andconviction he shares discoveries relating to methods of workand the social and musical forces that shaped the golden ageof the lute. This enduring joy springs from his attitude thatthe goal of lutherie is not the perfection of instruments, butthe perfection of the luthier.

As we spoke of the need for instrument makers to adoptthe attitude of the Renaissance and Barooue makers that amaster's quick and sure work is good enough and need notbe a task of belabored and picky technical perfection, acustomer arrived with Lundberg's latest instrument, achitarrone resplendent in ebony and ivory. Clearly, thiswas wrought by human hand, not laser beams. Thespontaneity of the "Knot of Ironardo" nicely complementedthe variation and splotchiness of the slightly figured andundyed ebony. Andwhen the smiling owner strapped onthe five-foot-long instrument, at once elegant andbizarre,the music completed the concept exactly. The sound wasneither loud nor showy, but rich, cool, and clear. Here wasan instrument on precisely a human scale, integrated andsatisfli ing in every aspect.

Robert Lundberg's work is excellent and inspiring. Butmore than that. it is sood enoush.

You have said thatyou have chosen lutheie as a physicaldiscipline for self-realization and personal improvement. Doyou see this as a traditional outlook?

Yes, certainly. The old lute makers had a cosmologicalapproach to life and therefore to building. These makersfelt that for their instruments to sound well, they had to bein tune, in harmony, with the universe. This appreciationof the interrelatedness of things was a basic motivation forthem to use the geometrical models and numerologicalrelationships that they did.

Did the ancient makers have such a tough row to hoe asmodem makers do? It seems like the luthier is an odd manout in our culture.

They did have a somewhat easier road thanwe. Theywere living, working, and selling instruments within anunbroken tradition. Therefore. standards of master

xllt

craftsmanship were very well established. In my ownwork I have never pursued perfection, but rather I havepursued excellence, which I think is an attainable goal.Our society, on the other hand, has adopted, withoutmuch thought, a mechanized standard of perfection.This industrial per{ection is mile after mile of finish withthe same index of refraction, but this holds little interestfor an obsewerwith any sophistication.

I continue to pursue this goal of making myworkgood enough. The master worker makes a knife cut, hedoes it once, and it is good enough. There is a criticalmass in any artistic endeavor, a critical number ofinstruments someone will build before they get beyondthe nuts and bolts of it and do master quality work.These masterworks don't begin all at once, but beginwith one here and there, and slowly more and moreuntil one constantlyproduces them. I've made about480 instruments and I haven't reached this point ofconsistency yet. But I think I might have if I had startedearlier on this concept ofbeing good enough, ratherthan trying to compete with a mechanized standard.

Five or sixyears ago I stopped using sandpaper tofinish my instruments and started using only scrapers.My first several customers after this change were a bitgrumpybecause the surfacewas not as smooth anduniform as their formica counter tops.

But how didthese lutes compare with the antiques?

Still far too belabored. For instance, the flats on thesides of antique pegs are most often cut quicklywith aflat chisel very often showing marks from chips in theedge. The pegs were turned using a marking gauge; theones that happened to be big went to the big end of thepegbox, the little ones went on the little end. It wasgood enough. These little variations, while intended toprovide continuity, can add real excitement, elegance,andmovement.

The goal now is towork quickly and let it go the first time?

This has always been the goal, but now I've decidedthat there are quirks and idiosyncrasies that I am willingto accept. I am finding that this is creating much morecontinuity in mywork, and letting it be less uptight. Inthis same vein, there is no reason to be snobbish aboutselecting materials. The old makersweren't. Theybasically used local woods which were "good enough."

Did luthiers centuries ago need the same determinationto g,o against the social grain that they do today?

I'm not sure. Craftwork then was, of course, therule, not the exception, not a fad, and therefore luthierswere more accepted as hand workers. It was more of anaccepted craft. However the social standing then wasquite low. I do have a facsimile of a book calledDasStandebuch by Jost Amann, from 1568 Germany. TheStàndebuch shows all of society arranged in order ofstatus; the first page shows God, and it goes on downthe line through clergy, royalty, goldsmiths, tapestrymakers, and the like. Instrument makers are a page or twoabove the musicians, who are the last people in the book.

xiv

Rag pickers and beggars are ahead of instrument makers instatus! Beggars at least are honest, you see. The author ofthis bookprobablyhad a tidyplace for himself reserved init, but I don't think this was an isolated view. In general,instrument users/musicians were an expendable group.

Between the decline of lute making in the 18th centuryand the recent revival, was there any interest in the lutewhatever? Was there anything to connect the lute-makingtradition?

No, nothing whatever. There are a few folkinstruments derived from the lute which have survived,such as the Swedish theorbo which was used until thiscentury, and the German Waldlaute which is derivedfrom the 18th century mandora, having the body of alute and the neck and tuning of the guitar. And thereare those which predate the lute that are still in use,such as the Cobza and the oud. But the rich lute-making tradition was entirely forgotten.

If the lute lay in such neglect for so long what is so specinlabout ourtime that we want to recover it?

I think our music is in crisis. "Popular" music, whichwas previously not so differentiated from "serious" music,is free and easy enough that it has periods of developmentrather than getting into crisis. But our art music, or"serious" music, is currentlyfindingweakpublic support,and people have a lot of problems with the way modernmusic has developed. This has led to new interest inearly music, and consequently in early instruments.

As a result of this interest, many different tonecolors thatwere lost have been remembered. People inRenaissance times were obsessed with color in anything,but tone color particularly. They had several differentfamilies of reed instruments that we find practicallvindistinguishable in tone. They were going for nuancesof tone that we are unprepared to appreciate.

Is lute making likely to see new development, or will itgo on to ever more closely recapitulate the past?

This depends on whether early music, bringing luteplayng and lute making alongwith it, becomes amovement, or remains a fad. If it remains a fad, I don'tthink that much of real developmental significance willcome out of it, excepting a new sort of tonal pleasureand some studyof history.

Might it relapse into qnother centuriesJong peiod ofobscurity?

It is very possible. There is now an unprecedentedinterest in many aspects of our history, but this hashappened in the past. For instance, the Renaissance,which we appreciate as such a time of innovation, wasan attempt by the Italians to imitate and recreate theirconcept of the ancient Greek culture. They pursued iton all levels, including music. There is very little newunder the sun. I could easily imagine that in the nextfiftyyears lutes will again go unplayed.

- Tim Olsen, December 1987

Section One:The Erlangen Lectures

Photographs by Robert Lundberge-ycept os nored

Dav One: An OverviewHE INSTRUMENTS of the lutefamilv were made and played inEuronean countries for over 500

vears. During this time the instrumentsunderuent manv changes bothstructural and stvlistic, and differingmusical and tonal demandswere madeon thenr Then. as now, the bestinstrLlmcnts. r'alued both for their toneancl a: u orks of art, were playedcontinuouslv. and their structures wereuptlatccì tc'r permit the realization ofcurrcnt music. Today it is, therefore,l l l ( ì \ l C()mmon tO f ind Survivinghisttrrical lutes greatly altered from theiroriginal condition.

For example, a lute by Laux Malerrr hich began life in Bologna as a(r-course Renaissance lute in 1520 couldhave been changed to a 7-course lutelate in the 1500s, taken to Paris in the1620s and converted into a 10-courselute with a string length much longerthan it originally had, converted in the1640s into an 11-course Baroque lutefbr the new tunings, and ended up inCopenhagen in the 1730s as a 13-courseBaroque lute or perhaps even a theorbo.Another example might be an 11-courselute built by Martin Hoffmann inLeipzig in 1680 which could have beentaken to Prague in the 1720s to beenlarged into a 13-course lute, andended up in Vienna in the 1780s with anewvery narrow and longer guitar neckwith metal frets, strung with six(sometimes seven or eight) courses andplayed as a mandora or gallichone.

In order to gain an appreciation ofthe complexities involved in sorting outthe evidence ofthese changes thatwefind in extant historical lutes, which areheld in collections scattered around thenorld, and at the same time obtain somecriteria for identification, we must beginbv looking at a little history of the lutein Europe. Thiswill help us to establish arouqh time frame for the main changes insrvles in lute making together with someof the musical reasons for thesechanges.

It is, however, impossible todelineate really exact dates, for thedevelopment of the lute was a gradualprocess with seldom less than fifty years

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overlap during each major transition. And, of course, mostdevelopments were adapted by the various geomusical areas withvarying rapidity or even not at all! We must continually resist our nativeimpulses to tidy up, lump together, and generalize.

In spite of these cautions, please accept the following time periods aspractical divisions in the structural development of the lute during the15th, 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries:

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Pre-RenaissanceRenaissanceLateRenaissanceTiansitionBaroque

up to 14901490 to 15501550 to 16201620 to 16601660 ro 1750

The European lute developed from the Arabical'ud,which was most probably introduced by the returningcrusaders in the 12th and 13th centuries. The Arabicname al 'ud means literally, "with wood," and is one ofthose interesting etymological instances in which thename of the feature that differentiated it from itspredecessor became, in fact, its name.

The earliest form of a/ 'udhad a stretched skin topquite like the gourd banjo. Probably in the 7th centuryla half-wooden belly was fitted. The upper part of thesoundboard was wood and had a soundhole or rosette,while the lower half remained skin with the strings stillpassing over the bridge and fastening to the end of thebody. Then, in the lateTth or early Sth century, we canread in Arabic literature of this new instrument called"with wood." They had made the belly entirely of wood !Adding two more soundholes lower on the belly andfastening the strings to the bridge produced the classicalform of a/ 'ad which we find still used in Arabic landstoday. This is also the form of the instrument as itwas introduced into 13th-century Europe. AllEuropean geomuscial areas subsequently adopted thisArabic name for their own lute: the Spanish usedlatLd,th e French /uth, the German laute , and the Italian lautoor liuto.

The motivating reason for this major structuralchange from a skin top to a wooden belly was acoustical.It greatly increased the sustain of the instrument, aswell as the effectiveness of the bass courses, therebyadding significantly to the drama of musical expression

possible. Stylistic changes resulting in a similardramatic effect are observable in Persian/Arabic poett'rof the time.

Pre-RenaissanceSince no 15th-century lutes are known to survive, we

will take the drawing onp.2 as representative of theearliest structural information which we will examinehere. It is from a Dutch manuscript circa 1450 by HenriArnault of Zwolle which gives basic proportions andconstruction details of a lute, as well as those of aharpsichord, an organ, and other instruments.

While the outline, rosette position and size, andbarring locations are somewhat similar to later lutes, theproportions of the body to the neck are not. Arnaultgives instructions that the neck must be as long as thebody is wide, which, in his drawing, it is not. However,we are given a note, written along the neck, which tellsus that indeed the neck is too short because the paperwas not long enough! Acomplete translation andcomments can be found in Ian Hatwood's article, 'A

Fifteenth Century Lute Design" in The Lute 2,1960.Alute with similar outline and proportions can be

seen below in a painting of angel musicians circa7410by Hans Memling. One might think that the necks ofthese Pre-Renaissance lutes are too long. Howevet,consider that the music which was played on them witha plectrum was basically a single line without manychords, and that a long neck facilitates quick shifts tohish oositions.

Pre-Renaissance detail from o painting o.f angel musicians by Hans Memling, cct 1470

Photo 1. Pre'Renaissance 6-course lute by Georg Gerle, Innsbruck, 9a 1580, probably built as a replica of a Pre-Renaissance instrument. Att original.Kunsthistoisches Museum, Vienna. #A3 5.

Photo l shows a 6-course lute by Georg Gerle madein Innsbruck about 1580, which was probably built as areplica of an antique. Built for a Royal Collection ofCuriosities, it is thought to illustrate what they felt theearlier instruments looked like. I do asree that theGerle is a fairly good example of a lute circa 1480.

Arnault has left us instructions to construct his luteoutline geometrically using three radii. As we see in thediagram by Henri Arnault (p. 2), he directs us to draw acircle for the lower part of the body of the size we wishthe lute to be and then, opening the compass to thediameter of the circle just drawn, to draw the arcs whichcun,e towards the neck. He then recommends a muchsmaller radius to form the neck end of the body. Thisconstruction produces an outline (Fig. 1, p. 5) which, ifthe last radius at the neck end is omitted and the largearcs are extended to terminate at the neck, is nearlyidentical to the lute pictured in the painting by Memling(p. 3). This is a very simple outline described with tworadii of proportional lengths. The main flawwithArnault's instructions is that he is clearlv offerins us an

L

after-the-fact descriptive process. Typical of anamateurish point of view, he focuses on the lute's body,while practically ignoring the primary relationship oftuning/string length to body length,rbody width.

The primary motivation for the continuing use ofgeometry in the construction concepts used by the lutemakers came in part from their deep culturalpreoccupation with proportion, symbolism, andharmony. This preoccupation was the culmination ofnearly 2000 years ofphilosophical discourse relating tothe nature of the universe and man's place in a worldwithin that universe. The Greek philosopherPythagoras (580-500 e.c.) described a universe whereinthe planets were ruled by consonant musical proportionswhich should produce a concordant sound -',Music ofthe Spheres." Plato (421-347 n.c.) added ametaphysical level to this concept by saying, that whilePythagoras was content in merely understanding theuniverse through numbers, man's position in the worldshould be to emulate this universal order throughproportion, thence to harmony.

Development of the Lute Outline

Figure 1. Pre-Renaissance,ca. 1450, based onArnault de Zwolle.

Figure 3. Late Renaissance. ca1 550- 1 650, built by Dieffopruchar,

Venere. Harton.

Figure 4. Transition Archlute,ca 1620-1650, built by

Sellas, Railich.

Figure 5. Baroque, ca1650-1750, built byTielke, Hoffmann.

Figure 2. Renarssance,ca .1490-1550;

"Pearl Mold," built by Maler, Frei,Boss, Unverdorben

These two ideaswere later restated and augmentedbr.the Roman philosopher Boethius (480-524 a.l.) inhis treatise, De institutione musicq. Boethius designatedt h re e categorie s of music'. Mus ic q Mundana, the musictrf the spheres or universe; Musica Humana, the harmonyrrhich rules man, which, though differing in magnitude,ir one and the same as the harmony which rules theuniverse; andMusica Instrumentalls, the audible orman-made music. These categories were so widely.rccepted that practically all Medieval and Renaissancemusic treatises mention them.

Boethius thought that Musica Instrumentalis shouldhe an imitation of Musica Mundana and that the basis forrhiswas tobe found in mathematical proportionbased onhthagoreannumbers. Menwere to imitate the universein their works, or at least be guided by the same principles.The cosmological models, based on this Harmony of theSpheres, were fundamental to Renaissance thought.-\chitects, such as Pacioli in hisDe Divina Proporrione,refer continually to the beauty created by consonant

proportions. Painters divided their canvases into grids ofharmonious proportions. It will be no surprise, then, if Isuggest that the lute makers truly believed that in orderfor their instruments to sound well and be harmoniousthey needed to be in tune with the universe.

At this point there came a change in the musical styleof lute playing. Composer and musical theorist Tinctoris,writing circa 1.487, mentions that especially in Germany,there is a way of playing monophonic/polyphonic musicwith lutes. But, he says, instead of using a group of threeto five separate lutes, one person plays all the differentvoices on a single instrument! This required, of course,an instrument that could be plucked with the fingers. Asthe earlier lutes were probably comparatively hear,y andthick, they sounded quite goodwhen playedwith aplectrum; but when plucked with the fingers they didn'trespond so well. In response to this need for a bettersound for finger-style playing, but also to keep a tonequality that wasn't too different, a new form of lute wasdevelooed.

Photo 2. Renaissance lute by Hans Frei, Bologna, ca'1520,belly are oiginal; the neck, pegbox, and bidge, ca

RenaissancePhoto 2 is our example of the second period of the

Renaissance lute. This photograph shows a lute bodyand belly (the neck, pegbox, and bridge are 17th-centuryreplacements) made in Bologna by Hans Frei circa 1520'With its long, narrower shape and a hard material forthe back (in this case maple, but ash, fruitwood, andsometimes rosewood, ebony, or ivorywere also used),this lute, when played with the fingers, has a very brightand quick tone, much like the Gerle type when it isplayed with a plectrum. Other makers in this periodinclude Laux Maler also working in Bologna, MarxUnverdorben in Venice, and Laux Boss in Schongau.

Describing the outline of the Renaissance lute is asimple step from the construction inspired by Arnault(Fig. 2, p. 5). Given the length of the outline, an arcwith this length as its radius is drawn describing thelower end of the outline. A shorter unitJength radiuscarries the outline around and up nearly to the widestpoint of the outline where again a longer unit-length

6

ahered to ll-course Baroque configtration. The body and1630. Kunsthistoisches Museum, Vienna, #C31.

radius takes up to complete the outline to a point atwhat will be the neck end of the body. Three radii areemployed, which are sometimes found to haveproportional unit-lengths.

As the technique of finger playing the lute developedand became more prominent, lutenists began to think ofhaving instruments which could more subtly reflect themannerisms of court and current music. Thus, the"quality" of an instrument's tone became an evengreater factor to instrument builders. While the tone ofthe lutes by Frei et al. was bright and quick, it also wasrather dry and somewhat lacking in refinement and acertain elegance.

Late RenaissanceThe next development of the lute is illustrated in

Photo 3 by a Dieffopruchar lute. This fuller-bodiedstyle of instrument is typical of our third period,1550- 1620, and this example was built in 1612. TheseLate Renaissance lutes have the "refinement" that

Photo 3. Late Renaissance lute by Magno Dieffopruchar, Venice, 1612 The body, belly, and neck are oiginaL It has 7courses now, but the oiginal number of courses is in question Museo Civico, Bologna, #1753.

lutenists were looking for in tone while maintaining agood deal of "color." The solo sound of this lute style ismore interesting than that of the previous styles, duealso in part to the use of yewwood for the bodies. Yewrrood's unique nature of being heavy and at the same time\ ery resonant adds warmth and power to this refined tone.Magno Dieffopruchar and Leonardo Tiefenbrucker (seenote on spelling of names, p. 245)worked in Venice, andin Paduawe find Michielle Harton and numerousinstruments signed Wendelio Venere, which was thelabel or trademark for a close association of masters,pupils, and assistants of German descent.

Another variation of this style of lute, which began abit later and lasted longer, has the same full outline buthas a very flattened back, giving the same basic tonequality but with much more projection. These flattened-back instruments were used particularly for bass lutesand also for theorbos.

In our third periodwe find the outline developmentagain quite simple, but so conceived as to increase the

soundboard area (Fig. 3, p. 5). Beginning as before witha determined body length, an arc is drawn giving thelower end of the outline. The proportioned width isdetermined, and the lower, nearly quarter-circle arc isdrawn. The only change, other than the basic width-to-length ratio, comes in the upper portion of the outlinewhich joins the neck. Instead of this upper part being aradius, we now find that it is an ellipse. I won't give anyspecific formulae for finding the center points for theseellipses, circles, and arcs. I don't think there is aproportional standard that fits completely, althoughthere are some consistencies.

At the same time a few lutes were being built ofthe earlier "Frei" shape. Almost all of theseinstruments maintainèd a hard material for the back,usually rosewood, ebony, ivory, or snakewood. Therole of these lutes seems to have been to keep abrighter tone, perhaps for playing the music of theearlier period or as a different tone color inensembles.

The RenaissancFigure 6

LUle names Tun ings Pythagoreanproportions

Pythagoreantuning proport ions

small octave lute

descant lute

alto lute

tenor lute

bass lute

d "

a

s

d'

2:3

3:4

1sY,V"

20%v"

23%V"

27Y.V"

2:3

3:4

d"

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d'33V"

Small octave 7-course lute by WendelioVenere, ca. 1600 The sting length is14cM (1512V"). The bridge may not beoiginal. Kunsthistoisches Museum,Vienna, #C39.

8

Descant 7-course lute by Wendelio Venere, I 592.The sting length is 58.1cM t 20t tV' l. The pegs arenot oiginal. Accademia Filarmonica, Bolo4na, nonumber. Photo by Grant Tomlinson.

Alfo lute by Wendelio Venere, l5B2 which oiginalty hatlseven cours?:: now it has five. The sning lengh is 6ó.7( \lt23t tV' t. All parrs are oiginol, bur rlie neik hot beennatrowed slightly and the pègbox shotfened to hold onltl0 pegs. Kunsrhisroischet Museum, Vienna, #C36.

: Lute Family

î.rttr .\-coLffse lute by Michielle Hafton, 1599. The sting length is'.

. tr t27t,tzV"). The neck, pegbox, pegs, front block, and bidget ,-..t\tron reconstructions based on a bass lute in the same

, .::orr hv the same maker (shown); Gennanisches NationalV - .i,rr. .'tluremherg. #114156.

Bass 9-course lure by Michielle Hafton, 1602. ,The rting length is 93.7ctt(33V ). which is a little longer than the 31lzV" (89.scM) it should be,perhaps because it was intended to be tuned a tone lower in c' . The stingholes in the bridge have been plugged and redilled twice in recent years;Gennanisches National Museum, Nuremherc, #M114

We should not think of the lute as a singleinstrument, as the piano or classical guitar, but rather,as an entire family of instruments. Most Renaissancemusical instruments were built in sets or families. Theinventory made in 1566 of the collection of musicalinstruments belonging to Raymond Fugger, a memberof the Augsburg banking family, lists 141 lutes, nearlytwo-thirds of which are specified as belonging to a set(accordo), usually of three or four instruments. Many ofthe lutes in the inventory are characterized as one ofseven specific sizes: octave lute, small descant, descant,chamber or alto lute, tenor, bass, and contra bass.

We can find further information on the LateRenaissance lute family and a confirmation of the sizeslisted in the inventory above by referring to the writingsof the German musical scholar and composer, MichaelPraetorius. In 1619 he published volume two of hisSyn t agma Musicum called de Oryanographia. Praetoriushas long been recognized as an accurate and reliablesource for information on Late Renaissance musicalinstruments. In fact, reconstructions of some windinstruments rely solely on his informafion. IndeOryanographla we find names for seven members of thelute family listed together with their nominal tunings.As can be seen from the chart (Fig. 6, p. 8) the namesfor the different sizes of Praetorius'lute family confirmthose from the Fugger inventory written fifty yearsearlier.

The nominal tunings of the chantrelle for the fivesizes of lutes most commonly played are listed in thechart (Fig. 6, p. 8). In the chart we can also see thePythagorean relationships for these tunings. Pythagorashad discovered, while experimenting with themonochord, that the consonant intervals of the Greekmusical system correspond exactly to the divisions onthe string by the smallest whole integers, 1,2,3, and 4.The ratio of 1:2 is the diapason or octave. The octavelute should have a string length half as long as the bass.The ratio 2:3 is the diapente or fifth, the descanf is2/zthe string length of the alto. The ratio of 3:4 is thediatessaron or fourth. The octave hrteis3/q the lensthof the descant, which in turn is 3/q the length of thetenor. Also, the alto \Íe is 3/+ the length of the bass.

Theatrum Instrumentorum, found in the back ofPraetorius' de Organographia, is a fascinating andquite unique set of woodcuts depicting some of theinstruments mentioned in the text. What makes theseplates so unique is that they were very carefully drawn,cut, and printed with the intention that they could bescaled. In this way we can know rather precisely thefull-size measured sizes of the instruments in theplates.

In Renaissance Europe almost every major city orprincipality had its own unique unit length. So we don'tgo off on the wrong foot, as it were, Praetorius has evengiven us a full-sized engraving of a ruler indicating sixinches of his measuring unit, the New Brunswick foot.In order to make consideration of the sample ruler asconvenient as possible in comparing the scaled drawingsto full-size instruments. and vice versa. Praetorius has

10

had the inches on this printed ruler subdivided in aninteresting manner. The first inch is one whole unit,the second inch is divided in two halves, the third inch isin three thirds, the fourth into four fourths, and so on.The scales provided with each plate are subdividedalternately into fourths and twelfths.

Unit length measurement systems were not alwaysarbitrary. In theirworkshops, the lute makers inGalileo's Padua used an anthropometric measure, thefoot, which was divided into 12 inches; each inch wasfurther subdivided info l2lines. This inch is a uniquemeasure which seems to have been used only by makersof musical instruments. Because the Paduan luthierswere originally trained in Venice, but more importantly,because the fundamentals of their design systems weredeveloped there, and for lack of any other identifiablename or reference, I have chosen to call this instrumentmaker's metrological unit the Venetian inch (V").

From the illustrations which accompany the lutefamily articles we can take scaled measurements to serveas a guide in selecting historical instruments for thePraetorian lute family. With the help of the scale at thebottom of the page we find that the string length of the9-course alto lute tuned in e' is26r/zNew Brunswickinches or about 22r/+V" (63éu).

By selecting historical Late Renaissance lutes whichare in original condition and using their $rthagoreanrelationships as a guide, we can reconstruct the LateRenaissance lute family. In comparing these lutes toPraetorius' alto we can assign them their contemporarynames and thereby know their nominal tunings. On p. 8we see examples of the five most popular members ofthe Late Renaissance lute family. These instrumentswere all made in Padua, and all of these, excepting thealto, which is dated 1582,were made exactly during thetime Galileo was resident there.

(89.5cu) it should be, perhaps because it was intendedto be tuned a tone lower in c'. In the chart (Fig. 6, p. 8)we can see the Pythagorean relationships between theselutes.

TransitionBeginning about 1600 and lasting until nearly 1680

we find the period of greatest diversity in lute shapes,sizes (i.e., string lengths), neck and pegboxarrangements, and particularly in number of courses.

Very few lutes still exist from this period incomparison with the periods both preceding andfollowing. I believe that the construction of theorbosand the conversions of older lutes, rather than new luteconstruction, probably occupied the lute makers of theperiod. In general one finds a lower caliber of handworkand a decline in aesthetic judgement. Many, indeedmost, of the principles of lute making established during

XVI

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*:#,#:i'ilr"j]1,)7,?íîiiTi;,i::#:,?L:"3!;::.;{^T#::'the previous 200 years were put aside and forgotten. modified tunings, and seemed to prefer rebuilding earlyWhen new instruments begin being built again in Renaissance instrumentswith thefu longer shapes andquantity (around 1680), they are conceived and brighter tones (Hans Frei lute, Photo 2,p.6).constructed with completely different principles and no The Dutch were playing rounder, medium-string-uaditionalconcepts. length lutes of nine or ten courses (and sometimes eleven),

Each geomusical area seems to have had a strong using both the "old" and "new" tunings. The English wereinfluence in the development of the instrument within still playing mostly B- and 9-course Renaissance-style musicthat sphere. The French were experimenting with in the old tuning, but by the 1650s were playing mostly inl0- and L L-course lutes with longer string lengths and the "new" tunings with various styles of lutes.

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The Italians were adding courses to their normal,shorter-string-length instruments and coming up witharchlutes with twelve or fourteen courses, half of whichwere carried on a pegbox prolongation similar to thetheorbo. The archlute became of such importance thatin Italy after circa 1640 when the "liuto" is mentioned, onecan assume that what we call an archlute was indicated.The anonymous archlute (Photo 4) is a typical instrumentwith a shaded yew wood multirib bowl and an elegantivory and ebonyveneered neck and pegbox extension.

With the addition of six or more bass courses, thesmall bodies of their normal alto and tenor lutes would

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Photo 1. Archlute with twelve courses.by anonymous Venetian, ca. 1630, school of Mafteo Sellas The betly is a replacementThe Brussels Museum of Mr.tsical Instruments, #5ll

have sounded quite dull, being very over tensioned by somany strings. To compensate for this, the bodies werewidened. As theywere not likewise lengthened, theyassumed avery "round" shape, and indeed these shapescan be described as exactly like the former in outline butwith a wedge placed between the outline pattern and thebody centerline, as shown in Fig. a (p 5).

The one lute-family instrument being built duringthis period is the theorbo. First built late in the 16thcentury, these instruments were used mostly forcontinuo. The large theorbo by Matteo Sellas (photo 5)is a wonderful example in original condition.

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Photo 5. Theorbo (chitarone) v,ith Jòurreen coLtr.\et by l[atteo Sellas, Venice, 1630 The stinglengths ore 7L,751clt: conryletell,oigirtul.Thc Bntssels Xlttsewtt of l:lttstcal htstrtrntertts, #255

Photo 6. Theorbo with fòu,-teen courses b,- Matteo Sellas, Venice, ca.1639. The string lengths are 61133CM; completely oiginal.Museo Civico, Bologna, #1748

Photo 7. Baroque by Magno Dieffopruchar, Venice, ca. 1600, which was built as a Renaissance lute and altered to a í3-course Baroque lute byThomas Edlinger in Prague, 1728. The neck, pegbox, and bidge are by Edlinger. Kunsthistoisches Museum, Vienna (on loan).

The small theorbo, also by Matteo Sellas (Photo 6) doesshow that the "lute family" idea still persisted. Bothhave shaded yewwood multirib bowls and ebony andivory neck and extension decoration similar to thearchlute shown in Photo a (p.12).

The archlute and theorbo are very similar inconstruction and design, but can be distinguished by thefact that the theorbo has eight basses which are single-string courses and which are about twice the length ofthe 6-fretted double- or single-string courses and aretuned with the first and usually the second courses downan octave. The archlute. on the other hand. has double-string bass courses which are usually only half again aslong as the 6-, '7 -,8-, or 9-fretted double-string courses.The archlute is tuned in the "old" or "standard"Renaissance tuning, larger ones for g'and smaller for a/.

BaroqueBeginning circa 1680 we see new lutes built in

quantity. By and large they have shapes akin to theearly Renaissance period (Maler, Frei et al.) which wereverywell known from the great number of conversionsof the previous period. An instrument by Tielke has thesame shape as one by Unverdorben, only again with awedge added to the center, which in these cases addedboth length and width (Fig. 5, p. 5).

The instrument by Magno Dieffopruchar shown inPhoto 7 is a rebuilt Renaissance lute. Built circa 1600,itwas last modified into a 13-course BaroqueconfigurationinTT2S in Prague by Thomas Edlinger,according to the labels within the instrument. Thiswide-bodied, flat-backed lute is very typical of the sort ofRenaissance lutes selected for modification intoBarooue lutes. These rebuilt Renaissance lutes account

15

photo 8. Baroque by Martin Holfmann, Leipzig, 1692, which was built as an ll-course lute, convefted to a 13-course theorboed- Baroque lute wiiit pegbox prolongation. Germanisches National Museum, Nuremberg, #M1215'

Photo 9. Baroque completely oiginal IL-course lute by J.C. HoJfmann, Leipzig, 1716Brussels Museum of Musical Instruments, #1559

:\,r ne arly two-thirds of the instruments extant in[ì.rroque configuration. They have a strident but:rtincd tone, and are particularlywell suited to l8th-Jcnturv lute music.

\lartin Hoffmann built the lute depicted in Photo 8rn 1692 as an 11-course instrument. It was laterntrtlified, probably in the 1720s, into a 13-courser:li(rrboed Baroque lute with eight lengthened bass

courses in an attempt to achieve a stronger sound in thebass range needed for continuo playing. Very few ofthese theorboed Baroque lutes exist today.

The 7716 J.C. Hoffmann Baroque lute pictured inPhoto t has an outline very similar to the Laux Maler,but is wider and longer. This shape persistedthroughout the last period until the lute was built nomore.

l'7