Frequently Asked Questions

How much do your guitars cost?
The simplest start around $3400.00 and rise from there, based on material choices, difficulty of build, etc.

Do you take custom orders?
As a rule, no.  Occasionally I’ll open up my queue for a custom, but I have found over the years that my workflow is immeasurably better when I don’t.  Perhaps someday when my kids are older, and I’m willing to stay up until 1:00 am working to meet a deadline, that will change.  For now, good luck!

Where do you sell your guitars?
Here on my website, and sometimes at Reverb.  

You don’t sell at other online ‘stores,’ or any brick and mortar places?
No.  My reasons for this have nothing to do with money and everything to do with remaining as independent, small, and free from advertising, as possible.  

Every time I check, they’re sold out.  How do I get one?
The best thing to do is get on my mailing list.  I’ll send out an email a week before I plan to list the next batch, with the day and time I plan to go live, with images and information about the forthcoming batch.  You peruse what I’ve made and if something grabs you, you buy it when the time comes. 

I see images of you building acoustics; why don’t those appear for sale?
The answer here is not simple, but I’ll be brief.  In short, while I love the process of making nylon string guitars, and especially flamencos, as a tool I prefer electric guitars.  It also has to do with workflow; I find it quite difficult to switch back and forth.  At some point in the future, I may list nylon string guitars as well, but for now things are loud. 

How often do you list and how many per batch?
I try to list one batch a month; more and I’m rushing, less and I’m struggling to stay afloat in this not-so-lucrative business.  I build on average three guitars/basses a month.  Sometimes fewer, sometimes more.  It really depends on what I decide to build (level of difficulty = time spent), and how busy the other parts of my life are.  Sometimes my kids get colds and it keeps me out of the shop longer than I’d like.  Sometimes the weather is too good to miss out on a long bike ride.  Sometimes the weather is so cold that my heat won’t turn on in the shop, so I sit inside and read.  There is just as much art in this work as there is science, and nearly as much unpredictability as there is certainty. 

What?
Guitars are complicated objects, both a tool and a work of art.  Building them requires a good deal of precise measurement, a lot of skill, and years of practice.  But there’s something else; there is something ineffable and mysterious about musical instruments.  No matter how many times I put a maple neck with a rosewood fingerboard on a swamp ash body, I will never be able to predict the exact results.  Anyone who tells you they can is lying.  There are too many variables.  We luthiers can get close, and can certainly work to achieve consistency, but aside from making sure that they are well built, I can offer no promises about how one guitar will sound.  It’s a beautiful thing really, once you embrace it.

Do you make basses?
Yes.  I love making basses and I’m so thrilled to finally have a few good ones that I can play with people, and use for recording.  I despise heavy basses, so all of mine are very light.  I try to list one every other month. They all have four strings. Period.

Do you build chambered guitars?
Yes.  I believe there is an important balance between resonance, weight, and how those factors influence sound.  I have certain numbers for which I strive, and I find myself chambering instruments more often than not.  I do not chamber basses however, as they tend to sound too thin, airy, and hollow to my ears. Chambering doesn’t mean better though; it really depends on each individual instrument.  

Do all of your chambered instruments have f holes?
No.  F holes are about 97% aesthetic.  I love them, I cut them by hand, and they do add an air of elegance to a guitar, but they also increase fragility.  Every now and then, I make one because I feel like it.

Tell me about your shapes. Does shape effect sound?
I have built many different shapes over the years, some derivative and some my own, as much as that is possible. I designed a small body for a friend that follows the lineage of a Fender Mustang, altered in ways that I believe make the shape more ergonomic. I still build those occasionally; they’re good for folks smaller in stature, or just those who like a small bodied electric. I’ve built a jumbo, to see how it would sit in the lap. I love it, and kept it for myself, but wouldn’t recommend it for anyone under about 6’2”. I made my own shape, which is what I always wanted a Telecaster to be. I still make those now and then too. But my favorite, and the ones that you’ll see for sale most often, are my versions of an offset waist guitar, not unlike a Jazzmaster. I make one that is optimized for a 25” scale and another for a 25.5”. While they are definitely their own, they will feel quite familiar in the hands of anyone drawn to that shape. I build two basses, one derived from the classic Fender Jazz Bass, though altered in ways to be well balanced and, I believe, more comfortable, and another derivative of the limited Telecaster Bass. I believe that shape does effect sound, but it is down near the very bottom of the list. You should pick based on the shape that you prefer in hand, as the difference imparted will likely be less than you can hear. The great Paco de Lucia said that he could hear the difference in tuning peg material, but you’re not Paco. No offense.

Where did you learn how to build guitars?
Though it shouldn’t be, this is a tricky question… 

The simplest answer is that I began leaning basic woodworking skills from my furniture-maker friend Steven Tiller.  Then I learned a bit more from my violin maker friend, David Prentice.  Then I did an apprenticeship with, and eventually became an employee of, Trevor Healy.  Then I did two years of one-on -one classes with Bill Cumpiano who literally wrote the book.  Somewhere in there I went to guitar building school at The Whetstone School of Lutherie in Vermont.  Really though, I learned most of I know from Trevor.  He is a master, and he held me to a remarkably high standard.  He’s a damn good guitar player too.  

Part II
The more complicated answer, is that I believe handmade instruments are an embodiment of their maker.  They are, in some way, inescapable extensions of the builder him/herself/themself.  And while they are tools, they have their own sonic identity.  To that end, we builders must pay close attention with our ears as well as our eyes and our hands.  For what is music without listening?  I studied improvisation in graduate school with the late Pauline Oliveros, who taught me more about listening than anyone or anything I’ve ever encountered.  Years of performing with Pauline taught me about the present moment, in ways that I did not previously understand.  I learn a good deal about listening from my children and from cycling and from karate, but at the core is Pauline’s work with Deep Listening.  It is this practice of attentiveness and of being present, that I believe extends into my instruments.  It may not be a measurable, quantifiable, element, but its there for sure.

Why no pick guards?
Do I really need to contribute to the consumption of plastic in the world?  I like pick guards just as much as the next builder or player, but I can’t wrap my head around buying sheets of plastic with a “made in Korea” sticker on them.  I’m troubled by the process which begins with extracting oil to make the plastic that is in everything from stretchy jeans to the packaging they come in. Those materials travel from processing plant to factory to container ship, to eventually land on my front porch. I love the way they look, but I just can’t do it any longer. Every small action adds up doesn’t it? Someday I’ll try to source salvaged material, but for now they’ll be naked.  Yes, there are images of guitars with pick guards on the site, but I used up all that plastic long ago.  

Do you make your own necks?
Yes.  Nothing that I build is CNC’d.  I know and respect builders who use CNC for their guitars, and some of them make exceptional instruments, but it just doesn’t suit my personality.  I do everything by hand with the help of a few old power tools made in the 1960’s, and a few made in the 21st century.  I’d throw out the machines if it wouldn’t take me forever to finish without them.  I ordered a small batch of CNC’d necks about six years ago.  While the necks were fine, I prefer the ones that I make.  CNC’d fingerboards are always too thin and they never sand them enough.  They just didn’t feel as comfortable. Unnecessary as it may be, I like to sand mine up to 800 grit so that they’re super smooth and glassy when you get it.  It also allows me the ability to use whatever woods I want, and to be more selective about grain, fret markers, etc.  I always felt weird not being able to pick the wood and do all of the work myself.  I had to push the CNC folks really hard to get just what I wanted, and sometimes they were late or slow or made mistakes.  Plus, carving necks is my favorite part of the entire process.  Should I give that up just to make more guitars each month?

What woods do you use and do you have favorites?
At this point, I have used more woods than I can count. I have settled on some favorites, and it’s fairly predictable. For bodies, I like Alder, Swamp Ash and Mahogany best. But I’ve made some guitars that I loved with 200 year old, reclaimed pine, fresh pine that was oozing sap, and a whole bunch with exotic hardwood tops. I don’t see myself using exotic woods in the future; these days I prefer wood that isn’t too fancy looking and I am deeply concerned with forestry practices. I only buy sustainable wood which is FSC certified, and I use reclaimed and/or local lumber when I can. Necks are more difficult because I really need the best and straightest grained wood that I can find. My favorite neck wood by a fair margin is maple, followed closely by mahogany. That said, the neck on one of my favorite guitars that I’ve made was Walnut. Guitars, like any instrument, are the sum of their parts and each small or large thing contributes to the sound. I work to pair my necks with my bodies so that they are well balanced, considering both tonality and weight.

Do you have an Instagram or Facebook account?
Yes, you can find my Instagram here, though I hardly ever post. In the words of Jim Harrison, “The danger of civilization, of course, is that you will piss away your life on nonsense.”   I can’t help but recommend: Reclaiming Conversation by Sherry Turkle, Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts by Jaron Lanier, and the work of Neil Postman, and Morris Berman…..it’s a slippery slope. All recent and future images on my Instagram are shot with my old, Nikon Fm3a. 

You use Nitrocullulose Lacquer right?
No.  I use a combination of acrylic paint (the same stuff you could grab at your local art store) and a water-based, low-VOC acryllic finish, made in The United States.  Every now and then I use some oil varnish, but I haven’t done that for a while.  I won’t tell you more than that; finish is the one secret that every woodworker I know holds as close to their heart as possible.  But I will say this: while I wear a mask when I apply finish, if my wife walks in my shop two minutes after I’m done, she can’t smell anything; and she has a good nose.  It’s about as harmless a finish as I could find aside from Tung Oil or Shellac.  Tung Oil is a remarkable substance that smells wonderful and is loved by furniture makers for good reason, but it leaves an electric guitar a bit under-finished.  Shellac is almost perfect.  Violin makers, flamenco and classical builders, etc. often use a process called French Polish, whereby the luthier builds up coats of Shellac, mixed in alcohol.  The alcohol evaporates and the shellac remains.  French Polish is a wonderful instrument finish, but it’s water soluble, which means it’s sweat soluble too.  If you get any moisture on your guitar, it turns white and milky.  A small risk on a flamenco guitar, but not an electric.  

I do not use Nitrocullulose Lacquer because it is a known carcinogen and I will not put myself in the position of inhaling those vapors.   And nor should you ask/expect your luthier to do it.  In my opinion, no one should be using it, especially at a time when we are tumbling into the midst of environmental crisis.  And it off-gasses for a long, long, time.   Nitrocellulose lacquer was used to paint cars in the 1950’s and was thus adopted by the electric guitar industry.  The primary reasons that Nitro is a desirable finish for guitars are as follows:

 1. It can an be applied fairly thin (‘fairly’ being the operative word).

2. It is quite shiny after buffing, and shiny has reigned king in the guitar world for many decades, also borrowed from the automotive industry.

3. It is durable.

4. It dries fast and hard.

Having used Nitro a few times in the long distant past, I can state with certainty that my finish is considerably thinner.  This is a good thing, as it allows the instrument to vibrate more freely.  I can’t speak to the durability of my finish after 50-60 years (yet) but I’m not worried.  My fence is still holding up fine outside with no finish at all, after fifteen New England winters.  

And here’s what I really don’t understand: why go through the deep and meaningful work to build a guitar by hand, only to make it look just like the guitar that came out of the factory in China?  I’d rather my guitar be more like an old violin.  Trust me…my guitars look great; like they’re proud of being made by hand.  They’re shiny enough, they’re more durable than they need to be, and they have a bit of Wabi Sabi and some of my soul in them, sort of like a painting.  I don’t spray my finishes (another plus for the earth) but instead, apply them by hand with a rag, which lends them more character than most.  Think Japanese pottery; something one of a kind, as they should be. I think you’ll be happy.

Do you buff them to a high sheen?
No.  I wet sand and rub them with felt (by hand) until they look and feel great, even with their little, humanistic imperfections.

And while we’re on the topic…
There is no such thing as a new, good, cheap guitar.  You might find a cheap old guitar that’s good or even an old crappy one that you love (some of my favorite guitars are old crappy ones) but there are no new guitars, worth much attention that are cheap.  When you buy a $700.00 guitar from one of the big corporations, it is still a $3000.00 guitar; its just that someone else is sharing that cost with you.  While you’re paying $700.00, someone has to pay the other $2300.00.  Most of the time, it is a person being paid very poorly for their time in an Asian or Mexican factory.

More to say from the soapbox?
As a matter of fact, yes.  Here’s what has confused me for many years: musician/band X is making music that lies squarely in the heart of counterculture.  Maybe it’s “free-jazz” (a term I feel odd about) or punk rock, or free improvisation or noise, or anything not definable as Corporate…

And yet they’re playing an instrument made in a big factory, by a giant corporation.  To those of us who shop in food coops, and belong to CSA’s, and do what we can to support our local economies, shouldn’t that extend to our music?  Fifteen years ago, I realized that I should apply this logic to everything in my life.  It’s hard sometimes, when I could go to Target and get a cheap shirt, or Home Depot for a cheaper drill, but I don’t do it.  I’d rather have fewer things, of better quality, that support local businesses.  And I think its time that we all do the same with the instruments that we play.  It just feels right to see Nels Cline (Wilco, etc.) and Ian Mackaye (The Evens, Fugazi, Minor Threat, etc…) playing a handmade guitar.  Of equal importance, is the fact that without buying handmade instruments, this craft will die. Matthew Crawford wrote an excellent treatise about this general principle titled Shop Class as Soulcraft which I recommend with enthusiasm. If you don’t buy one from me, please support a luthier somewhere.

Handmade | Wabi Sabi | Etc.
The first handamde guitar I played was an old Sobrinos de Esteso flamenco, owned by my teacher, Jorge Strunz.  The feel of the the irregularity of the sides moved me. It was imperfect and handmade in a way that helped me feel connected to the person who built it. As I ran my hands over the side, it was a bit wobbly. I now understand why, having built flamenco guitars, and it has to do with letting the wood bend and shape in a way that is graceful, without forcing it into a rigid structure using forms and templates. In this way, what could be referred to as the Spanish traditional method, each instrument is slightly different. While I do use templates, I allow for slight differences among my guitars, which I believe helps them to feel and sound very alive.

I also don’t want my instruments to be too precious; which is why you see stickers on the guitar that I made for myself. As we all know, instruments become an extension of the person who plays them, and I want you to make what I build feel like it is yours, fully and completely. I want you to develop a relationship with your instrument. To this end, I want my instruments to remain unafraid that they are handmade, and capable of fully embracing their irregularity and personality. If they were all exactly the same, then I might as well invest in some CNC machines.

Do they come with a case?
I ship all of my guitars in a Mono Vertigo gig bag; they are by far my favorite.  If, after purchasing you would like something else, send me a note and we can select; you’ll have to pay the difference if there is one.

I saw some video/heard the twelve-string that you made.  Will you be listing one of those soon?  
No.  Probably never. 

I saw some video/heard the guitar with the Tele bridge and trapeze that you made.  Will you be listing one of those soon?
No.  Probably never. 

I saw some video/heard the guitar with the scoop neck like a banjo.  Will you be listing one of those soon?
No.  Probably never.

Why?
Those answers only come out at dusk over a cold beer.  

How do you decide what to build each month?
Whimsy. I try to generate as much variety as I can muster, but I tend to stick to the things I like most, things I trust, and things that I can come closer to predicting.  I don’t pay any attention to demand, I just build what I want to build.  I operate mostly on intuition and instinct in most areas of my life. “Do not fear the karate practitioner with 10,000 kicks; fear instead the practitioner with one kick, practiced 10,000 times.”

What pickups do you use?
40% of my guitars use Creamery Pickups.  The other 60% use Lollar Pickups.  I think that both are equal, but there are tonal properties that I prefer in certain Creamery or certain Lollar pickups.  I select based on sounds I am trying to accentuate in each instrument.  You can’t go wrong with either.

I assume you play guitar?
Yes.  There is a bit of video on this site, and you may further peruse my musical wanderings at Jefferson Pitcher dot com.

Hardware
I use a variety of hardware including Callaham, Glendale, Rutters, Mastery, and custom made, steel toggle plates.  Cavity covers are stained wood, though I used plastic in the past.  I have a few tuners that I prefer and I use a variety; they’ll be good ones.  For bass, I like Hipshot the best, though for a variety of reasons I sometimes use Gotoh or Schaller. If I had the skills, I’d make my own hardware and pickups too. Alas, there is only so much time.

Bolt on vs. Set (glued) neck.
I’ve played many versions of both, loved and disliked guitars of each design, and have, after many years of relative indecision, settled on a preference: Bolt on.  I feel that neck attachment is fairly low on the list of tonal effectors, so my decision is based more in functionality/durability than anything else.  Simply, bolt on necks can be taken off MUCH more easily if they need to be replaced and are more durable if the guitar falls over.  Those things are enough to convince me.  If you took two guitars that were identical aside from neck attachment, I doubt you’d be able to hear a difference.

What’s up with the lines on that one headstock?
Years ago, a friend called and asked me if I wanted some reclaimed maple that had begun it’s life as the racquetball court floor at Stanford University. YES! The wood arrived, glued together in thin strips like you see in the photo. The lines are the result of sub-par joinery. If you look at the other images on the site where two pieces of wood are joined, you’ll see that the line itself is nearly invisible. When I joint things myself, I make sure that everything is perfect. Structurally, that neck is just fine, and given that I used to ride the Samtrans bus down to Stanford University to skateboard outside the athletic complex during my teen years, the visual aberration was well worth the provenance.

What about scale length?
I believe that scale length has an enormous impact on the sound and feel of an instrument. I do not, however, hold to the idea that a guitar with a Telecaster bridge needs ferrules and a 25.5” scale. My favorite “Telecaster” that I’ve built had a 25” scale with a top loader bridge. Of my two favorite “Jazzmaster” style guitars I’ve built, one had a 25” scale and the other 25.5”. Did they sound, play, and feel different? Absolutely. Assuming that you’ve played the three primary electric guitar scale lengths, (24.75, 25, 25.5) the most common adjectives and your experience will likely ring true with mine. But, honestly, there are just too many variables to say that one scale length always sounds _________. Among my favorite instruments that I’ve ever made is a 24” scale guitar, and a 22” scale guitar. Both necks felt too small and tight for my 6’ stature, but they sounded incredible, and neither sounded quite like I would have expected. I build 95% of my instruments with 25 or 25.5 as I find them to be the most versatile. 

Why can I feel the grain?
No pore filler.  I like to feel the grain and I suspect that you will too.  Sometimes, when I’m holding my guitar and not playing, I like to just feel the wood; the way that Ferdinand the bull, liked to just sit and smell the flowers. I believe in process, and that process and end result are intrinsically linked.  Pore filler just doesn’t feel right to me anymore. I want my guitars to feel like wood.

Do you ever take apprentices or hire anyone?
At present, my children are my apprentices and my employees; it seems like a good way for them to earn some weekly spending money, and I love teaching them. Someday when they both move out, leaving my heart crushed and withering in the sun like a worm drying out on hot pavement, I may be willing to take someone on, but that’s a good ten years off. Thank god.

If you have any further questions, feel free to send a note.