Mosaic

 

When we found the location for opening our violin store in 2008, one of the many things I loved about it was the large windows. They are perfect for setting up displays to be seen from the street and sidewalk, and they provide a lovely view from my bench throughout the day. There is so much window space that I felt we could afford to block some with a Rubik's Cube mosaic if I ever built one.

A cube mosaic is simply using the individual squares of color on the front face of a Rubik's Cube as pixels in a larger image. There are programs available online where you can upload a picture into a pixel-generator based on your cube colors, and it will give you image options complete with a breakdown of a dozen cubes at a time for easy assembly. 

Pattern breakdown on my laptop

 

Assembly in the box-frame

Finished image (design by Aden Weisser)

I'm not a speed-cuber, but I'm fast enough at solving individual cube faces that my mosaic of 480 cubes only takes me a few hours to do. I find it relaxing, and the people in the neighborhood seem to enjoy the changing display.

I had been looking at that space in the window and wanting to put a cube mosaic in it for more than fifteen years before I finally just did it. At first as a young business, that seemed like a ridiculous expense to invest in. Even in bulk, speed cubes (which don't have stickers, and look cleaner for use in an art piece) were going to cost money I didn't feel I could justify spending when there were supplies to buy and rent to pay. Plus I wasn't quite sure how to construct a secure frame for it, and to top it off I generally have a lot going on with little free time to spare.

But my schedule has gotten simpler as my children have grown. The last kid in the house even does most of the cooking, so I'm not saddled with shopping for and making dinner nowadays. Last year it hit me that buying a ton of cubes was never going to be a reasonable sounding expense, and I should just do it. I imagined how stupid I would feel on my deathbed wondering why I never did this thing that in the grand scheme wasn't that big an expense at all.

Because why are we here? What are we doing? Life is short and there's lots to try before we go. One of those things I wanted to try was that mosaic, so why wait?

I started by ordering 240 bulk speed cubes. I experimented with a pattern on the living room floor, and the kids and I decided it was too small. As extravagant as owning 240 cubes sounded, we could make better images by doubling that number. Beyond that seemed too unwieldy for the space and harder to make time to switch out with any frequency. 480 it was.

I ordered a second batch of cubes, accidentally got sticker cubes, sent those back, got new speed cubes, but the colors didn't match the first set, so they let me send back the original batch, and I got a new set of cubes from the same factory batch as the set I kept. So that was a lot. And now I feel silly about having an issue with the slight color difference, because as the cubes have been in the window many colors have faded and they don't match each other now anyway. At some point I will have to probably refresh them with paint.

mismatched

 

I've enjoyed coming up with new designs, usually derived from photographing things inside the shop.

The first one I did was of a scroll I had recently carved. I really like how the mosaic images look from across the street. It's fascinating how our brains fill in necessary details.

 

I tend to change the mosaic on average about once a month, depending on how much time I have. There is an ebb and flow to repair work where sometimes there is a break or everything is drying in clamps for a while, and I can just sit while waiting for deliveries or appointments. It's nice to settle in by the window and solve cubes.

 

I've even done holiday themed images, like putting up a picture of my Cell-O-Lantern, or Peeps.

 

Peeps!

The box/frame is a big piece of thin plywood (I didn't want it to be too heavy) with a wood border just deep enough to hold the cubes. It's resting on a dolly with wheels I can lock, and that can also be tipped into a horizontal position if I ever want to lay out all the cubes as if they are on a table. Originally I planned to put some kind of grippy backing in the box to help secure the cubes, but gravity turned out to be enough. The small lean of the box is sufficient to make the cubes stay in place. The dolly also allows me to rotate the box toward me to work on it, and then easily turn it to face the window when the image is done.

Box construction took up all my floor space

Bonus that the dolly wheels are a fun color!

 

It always looks like more off the board

I'm lucky that I like my job very much, and I won't be someone who regrets having spent so much time at it. If I couldn't make a living at what I do, I would find a job that allowed me to do violin work as a hobby. I don't mind being defined by my particular job, because it sums up a great deal of who I am and strive to be. My work is creative and practical, it's about helping others and creating beauty, and I feel connected to both the past and the future keeping a tradition alive in my own corner of the world.

When people ask why there are Rubik's Cubes in my violin store, the answer is because I like them. The store is me. It reflects what I like and who I am, from the violins to the cubes to the sparkle cello to the pride flags to the Mold-A-Ramas to the Escher floor puzzle to the rocks from Lake Michigan to my dog in the window. There are pictures of my kids, my husband by my side, and now there is also a cube mosaic.

I am many things that make a whole. We all are. Life is a mosaic, and together we form something larger than ourselves. I'm grateful every day that each person who can does their small part to keep our lives running. If we're doing our little piece well, it eases someone's burden and brightens the world a tiny bit more. Sometimes that means simply being who we are authentically, and doing the things we like and not putting them off.

I like that doing something that makes me happy can also bring passersby a little joy. 

Time for a bit of lutherie techno-babble

I've been working on three instruments. I started them more than two years ago, but building time is hard to come by on an average day. When I really need to make progress, I wind up doing most of my work between midnight and 2 a.m. I've been putting in a lot of those late nights recently because aside from needing to get these instruments into the (very patient) players' hands, there is a convention with a competition coming up in November that I would like to have an instrument for. If I can reach a point where I can start varnishing before the middle of October, I think I'll make it.

I share what I do online, both on Facebook and Instagram. I like answering questions for people who know little if anything about the process, and comparing notes and techniques with fellow luthiers who may do some steps differently. I make a point to stop and take a picture when I'm at a stage that would be visually interesting, but I don't share everything.

Among the things I don't tend to share are certain setbacks or mistakes. Not really because I'm embarrassed—mistakes happen and are often a good learning/teaching opportunity—but because the kinds of things that come up would take too long to explain, and I don't have a lot of time to spare. There are also sometimes things I have to ponder and make decisions about that are equally hard to explain succinctly. So I thought I might take a moment to lay out an example of that kind of problem here.

The most recent step I've been working on is graduating my back plates. I get the arching—the curvature of the outside of the plate—finished first, and then the scooping out of the inside of the plate is done with a combination of goals in mind.

As with most steps in violin making, I start with the largest possible tool, and work my way down to tools that remove smaller amounts of wood as the process becomes more refined. In the case of graduating, I start with large arching gouges, then move down to finger planes, and finally to scrapers.

 

 

I wrap my fingertips but I still got a small blister this round

 

So the factors involved that inform what wood I move from where and how much are: Thickness forming certain symmetrical patterns, tap tones related to the final pitches created on the top plate, flexibility, and weight. 

I have some basic patterns I learned in school that I form by measuring in from the edges of the plate to areas known as the break points and stop, as well as a "thin spot" that parallels the outline, the center, and some transition places. I check the thickness of the plate at these points with a set of calipers, and keep adjusting until I have the symmetry I want and the measurements I'm looking for. The school patterns are a starting point. I have a few ways of flexing the plate in my hands to see if it feels right, and if it's too stiff, I keep removing wood until I like it better.

I also start checking tap tones. There are two I'm interested in: One where you hold the plate at the thin spot along the upper bass bout and tap where the soundpost will eventually go, and one where you hold it in that soundpost area and tap a lower edge. I hum the pitches I hear into a tuner (currently using a link on my laptop) and note the pitches. Ideally, I want that first tap tone to be within a whole step of the octave tap tones I got when graduating my top plate, and the second tap tone to be a third, fourth, or fifth away from the first. My teacher's mantra about this, however, was "Don't hang on tap tones." They are the least important of the factors I'm trying to achieve, but still of interest, and if I can manipulate them to where I want, I do.

The final thing is weight (measured in grams) which I'm rather new to. We didn't discuss weight as a factor in school, but I suspect it generally falls in line when you accomplish the first three things. I discovered in discussions with luthiers over the past few years how many prioritize weight in the graduating process. The weight to aim for varies based on density and quality of the wood, but there is still a range that is useful to know.

Viola plate telling me how much more wood to remove

Now with all of those factors laid out, here's how my graduating went this round. 

The Amati model violin that I'm making for my daughter ended up 4g heavier than I wanted, but I like the flexibility. The tap tones were confusing. The top plate was a clear F, but the soundpost tap on the back alternated in my ear between sounding like an F# (yay!) or a C# (boo!). I know there are overtones, and both pitches are probably present, but I feel better when I get one clear pitch. I really didn't want to go thinner anywhere. I was pushing it with my measurements because I wanted to bring it into the better weight range, but I decided since the flexibility was there, I'm not going to worry about the last bit of weight. I can't drop below certain numbers without compromising structural integrity. Here's a picture of the plate held up in front of my bench light so you can appreciate how thin it is.

The viola I managed to get down to a weight I'm happy with, and good flexibility. The tap tones I think are okay, but the top was the one this time where the pitches were confusing, so it was hard to know what to match to. The graduation was definitely on the thin side, but that's where it apparently needed to be in order to flex properly.

The Guarneri model violin as of this writing I am still pondering a bit. I'm scared to take it any thinner, but I still don't like the way it's flexing, and the weight is almost 10g too heavy. The tap tones are great, but I'll probably have to sacrifice those to trying to make the plate less stiff. But I have no idea where to take the weight from right now. I may switch to tuning my bass bars for a while and come back to it.

Part of what makes violin making interesting is that it's never the exact same process twice, and there are always ways to improve your skills. Occasionally a step will go perfectly, and there is certainly satisfaction in that. But most of the time there is problem solving to do, and new circumstances to try and hone your abilities. 

I think often about my mom describing how as an artist, when she used to work almost exclusively in watercolors, that the day a painting came out exactly as she had imagined it and there were no surprises, it inspired her to move on to a new medium. Craft is about replicating things cleanly. Art is about exploring something new. The beauty in violin making is working in that crossroads, where you are creating a tool that needs to work properly, and also making it uniquely your own.

Each new instrument gives me the chance to try and improve upon what I've done before. I can't wait to hear how these latest instruments sound. And I already have ideas for the next batch.

Updates, Fall 2023

Does anyone else feel like everything has been in crazy crunch mode this fall? More than usual? Because I am honestly getting a bit overwhelmed and not seeing a lot of relief ahead.

My Aunt Lila went into hospice and died last month. Both my uncles had surgery this month. I played a funeral for the mother of a friend. All of those events have left me to ponder a bit about which relationships we tend to and which we don't and why.

My only Halloween update is that Mona made a costume that she wore while handing out candy at the tattoo shop, and it made one child cry! Apparently several small kids were scared, which made her feel both bad and good at the same time.

And there is only one cake to share this birthday season. Quinn wanted to be surprised, and I wasn't going to be around in time to make her cake, so I came up with a concept, bought all the supplies, then turned it over to Mona. Quinn turned 17 on the 17th, so since it was her golden birthday, we wanted the most golden cake possible. My original concept was to make two cakes in the shape of a one and a seven, and just go crazy with the decorations. Mona had a different idea, and it was amazing to behold, but not wildly edible.

The reason I couldn't make Quinn's cake myself this year was that I was in Baltimore to give a joint presentation at the Violin Society of America convention. I teamed up with my friend Robyn Sullivan and we did a talk called "Interpersonal Mistake Management." It essentially boiled down to the fact that luthiers are famously sort of rude in their shops, so I made suggestions about how we can do better when working with customers, and Robyn addressed how luthiers can do better working with one another in a shared space. I didn't think I'd be able to attend in person because I had a scheduling conflict with a rehearsal and a concert, but Robyn was kind enough to do all the airport pick-up and drop-off driving, as well as put me up in her hotel room down the street from the convention.

The whole thing was so much fun! When I think back to my first couple of VSA conventions, and how intimidating I found all of it and how alone I felt, this was a whole different experience. I got to meet--in person!--many people from my Women In Lutherie group whom I've only interacted with online before. There were people excited to meet me! And I was excited to meet them! My book (My Violin Needs Help!) was for sale in the vendor room at the International Violin table, and I got to sign copies. I bought so many good tools (including a small saw that doomed my carry-on bag to checked status when I got back to the airport), and met people from suppliers I buy from. I got fed lunch both days I was there (one was for the annual Women's Luncheon, and one was a lunch for vendors and speakers). I caught up with old friends and made new ones. Not to mention the fun of playing pick up ensembles in the new instrument room. We had enough violists to do the third Brandenburg Concerto with all three viola parts! What a great time. Plus hanging out in a hotel with Robyn was good, because with her it's always the perfect combination of quiet chill time and talk too much time.

Getting ready for our talk as people start filing in!

On top of it all, our talk went really well. People really enjoyed the whole presentation, and thought the topic was long overdue. We've been invited by Strad magazine to turn it into a pair of articles, so if you read luthier trade magazines, keep an eye out for that!

I left not only feeling like I belonged, but that I could have an impact. I'm confident that if I applied to do another talk in the future that they would welcome it. That's not a place I expected to reach. How cool is that?

The Pumpkin Pavilion was fun as usual. Carving day was cold and rainy, so I didn't contribute as much as usual, but I loved going to the park with Mona.

Work in the store has been insanely busy. So much so that I haven't had any time to work on my own instruments at home. I can't rehair bows until midnight and then hope to carve scrolls, so I need to make time somewhere and get back in my home shop. People are waiting for those instruments! Which is wonderful, but a lot of pressure sometimes when my schedule is packed.

At least one thing is getting accomplished that I don't actually have to do myself. We've been having some landscaping work done. Finally. When we bought our house about 13 years ago, we did make a few weak attempts to occasionally plant flowers here and there, but for the most part, we were lucky to simply keep up with getting the lawn mowed. (And about half the time our next door neighbor went and did chunks of it for us when she was done with hers. Because Julie is the best neighbor ever.) We only have so many resources, and it's made sense to fix things inside the house first, which left the outside sadly neglected. But this was the year to do something!

After replacing the deteriorating deck last summer, we needed to finish the back yard with paving stones and grass to pull it all together into a usable space. This summer we did that, and then decided to extend the paving stones around the rest of the house. We had lots of yard that was always just mud and weeds, and now we have clear paths that are a big improvement. We have a new extended retaining wall that I love! Far better than the blocks that were starting to fall into the driveway and sidewalk. The last bit (that should be done in the next week or so) is to have stairs installed on a bit of hill that everyone insists on walking up. No one who parks in front of the house wants to walk down to the corner to use the steps there, they want to make a straight line to the door, and that slope is usually a muddy mess. Steps! Very excited to have steps. And the landscaper promises to come back in the spring and plant things that I shouldn't have to do much with. So all of that has been nice, because even as I'm behind on everything, every once in a while I glance out the window and see work happening and can feel happy there is progress somewhere.

The music for Festival City Symphony has been challenging lately. The last concert was all Russian composers, and that's a lot of notes. There's also been some tricky things to learn for the mandolin orchestra, but it had to wait until I was done with the Russians, and now I'm buckling down on those parts.

The most jarring thing to happen recently is my mom had a fall. (At what age does it change from someone "fell" to someone "had a fall"? Because I know I am now in the "had a fall" demographic, but did that switch when I turned 50? 40? What a weird milestone.) My mom--on her birthday at the end of October no less--fell down her front steps and broke her heel, busted her glasses, and bruised up her face. Not pretty. But damn my mom is tough. She crawled back into the house and found a phone and called a friend. She had to stay a night in the hospital but is home now. I drove out and spent a few days, and tried to troubleshoot how she could manage on her own without being able to put any weight on the bad foot. Her house is all stairs, but on the second floor she's able to get from a guest room to the bathroom, closet, and her work studio using a walker. I set her up with water and snacks so she wouldn't have to venture to the first floor more than once a day to eat. My brother went out next to stay a week and help. She's doing okay, but it's frustrating for her to not be able to do everything she'd like on her own, and it's frustrating for me to be so far away.

Because of my mom's injury, we decided to take Thanksgiving to her, since she couldn't come to us and we certainly didn't want her to be alone. We bought food, made plans, and then I got Covid. It wasn't terrible. I mostly felt too hot and too cold at the same time one night, and really sniffly and tired. I went on Paxlovid right away and it cleared up my symptoms almost immediately, but I didn't test negative in time to join the group road trip. Aden came down from college and stayed a night in her sister's apartment, and my brother and nephew came over and stayed in the teaching studio, which we figured would keep them all a safe distance from me. Then everyone in my house took a Covid test the day of the drive to Detroit. I was the only one who tested positive, so Ian chose to stay home with me, and everyone else went to visit Mom. What a weird holiday, though, not knowing who was going to be where until the last minute!

It was an odd holiday, but nice. On the kids' end, I think it was good for them to do a road trip with their uncle, and spend time with relatives without us there. Aden got to make a whole Thanksgiving meal (with a little help on the side), and by all reports did a great job! My brother got to check in on Mom, but also got see how my kids interact with one another and was impressed with all of them in new ways. I know my mom loved having her son and grandkids around.

Ian's and my quiet turkey day was a throwback to before we had children, because I think it's the first time we've been alone together in our house for a couple of days in a row in over twenty years. Isn't that crazy? There's been a lot going on for a very long time. But with just Quinn living at home now, we're heading toward empty nester status soon, and it does get you looking at your partner and wondering how that will go. The rhythm of a house with kids is very different from one without. Thankfully, Ian and I had a lovely time. We grocery shopped the day before the holiday (since we'd sent all the food out of state), and that could have been awful, but we had a good time. We only picked out stuff the two of us liked, and did wacky things like buy pie instead of making it. Thanksgiving day was low key and nice and I finally tested negative. Cooking that meal is low stress when you only make it for two. We cooked everything early so we could eat it for lunch, and then again hours later for dinner. We ate off good china in front of the TV and watched a bunch of odd numbered Star Trek movies, which were terrible, and it was a blast. We walked the dog, chatted with the bird, and took a nap in the middle of the day. I loved it.

When everyone returned from Detroit, they were able to stay at the house and hang out for a morning of board games and crepes. Aden even decided to ditch her one Monday class and stay an extra night, so we got to curl up on the couch and watch the season finale to Lower Decks twice and just enjoy having her be part of our home again. 

Quinn has her first college tour coming up this weekend. That's almost too much for me to comprehend, so I will share what I think about that later once I've figured it out myself.

Domino is still cute. We've had her a bit over a year now, but it's hard to remember life without her. I love that dog. She's even a good companion on a long car trip. She traveled with me to the cottage in mid-October when I met my friends there for a girls' weekend before I shut the place down for the winter. And she was with me when I had to unexpectedly go help my mom and was good company there, too.

Domino in Detroit

I have four concerts left to play before the year is up, and I need to start thinking about Christmas, but just thinking about thinking about Christmas makes me tired.

But despite feeling like there has been a bit too much happening this fall, I've recently found myself increasingly appreciative of many mundane things. When I drove Quinn to school the other day, the traffic didn't bother me because I was really enjoying the basic act of operating a car. I love our little Nissan Leaf, and now that we have a car that I'm not scared is going to break down any minute, driving is really enjoyable. Any time after being sick, I'm aware of how amazing it is to breathe easily. I like moving without pain. I never used to bother with scarves, but I have one now that makes all the difference in walking in the cold. I enjoy the way the sunlight slants at this time of year.

And I never tire of beautiful leaves.

Korinthian Violins A B C

My new book is out! I mostly made it as a cute little gift to have in my shop, but copies are available on Amazon if anyone wants one. (And if you like it, please give it a good review!) It's a tiny paperback for $15.

For anyone who simply wants to see it, here it is! Enjoy. (And I'll type the text in case it isn't readable in the images.)

This book is dedicated to Robyn Sullivan and Carol Kraco. Both spent many years contributing their time and talents to make Korinthian Violins the place it is. They have moved on to new adventures and they are missed. We hope this book reminds them of fun days in the shop they helped run for so long.

Welcome to Korinthian Violins! We are a small violin store in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, only a couple of blocks from Lake Michigan. We think our shop is special, and we want to show you the reasons why from A to Z. (And if you are reading this in our store, see how many of these things you can spot in real life!)

A is for Armadillo. This cute little sculpture has been posing in our store practically since we opened in 2008. He was made by Detroit artist Dick Cruger.

B is for Box of Crayons. I liked this broken violin body and found a new way to use it. Sometimes repurposing things makes the world a little more interesting.

C is for Clock. This large music clock on the back wall was the first thing I made for our store. Do you know what all the music symbols on it are? (If not, find a musician to ask!)

D is for Drum. This drum came from West Africa and used to be in my parents' art gallery in Michigan until my dad passed it on to me for my music store.

E is for Escher Lizards. This floor puzzle is based on designs by M. C. Escher. Repeated interlocking patterns like these lizards are called "tessellations."

F is for Fancy Floors. Our building is over 100 years old, and still has the original tiled floors, which I think are beautiful even with the cracks.

G is for Gifts. We have lots of fun gifts, many of which were made by me, or people I know.

H is for Halloween! Korinthian Violins won a neighborhood association award for our Halloween window display in 2020, which included this Cell-O-Lantern.

I is for Intersection. Korinthian Violins is at the intersection of Rusk and Delaware Avenues.

J is for Jar of Tips. Bow tips! Sometimes people put money in the jar, which always makes me laugh since the jar is a joke.

K is for Korinthia! I love having my own violin store! People are often surprised that it's my name on the window.

L is for Lamp. We find lots of things to do with broken instruments. This cello lamp can be found in our teaching studio.

M is for Mold-A-Rama. Our family collects figures from Mold-A-Rama machines around the country. We have our own machine that makes a corythosaurus dinosaur.

N is for Novels. I like to write books! Just because people know you for doing one thing doesn't mean you can't do other things, too.

O is for Open. I like that when the case on our front door is open it means the store is open to visitors.

P is for Peeps Violin. Our family enjoys entering the Peeps art competition at the Racine Art Museum every spring. I have also had on display a Peeps orchestra, and a Peep-A-Rama machine.

Q is in Bow-Quet. We find many ways to recycle things at Korinthian Violins, like these broken bows.

R is for Rubik's Cube. I love having my very own cubes for my collection! We offer free cube solving at Korinthian Violins.

S is for Sparkle Cello. No, it doesn't play, but it's very pretty, especially in the sunlight inside our front window.

T is for Toy Box. Cellos are fragile, and many got broken when our store used to rent them, so we found some of the broken ones new uses, like this one for toys.

U is for Ukulele. I thought it would be fun to play ukulele during slow days, but our store is very busy, so it just keeps me company on my bench.

V is for Viometer. I use this tool to help measure new players to see what size violin they might need.

W is for Walking Sundae. A business in our space once sold walking sundaes and the sign is still on our side window. (That's a treat that looks like a sundae, but is made from less-melty things such as pudding and cake.)

X is for Xylophone. We have a couple of xylophones in our store, but my favorite is this one made from bamboo.

Y is for Yellow Stand. And its friends! We love having colorful stands for sale, and we put them all in rainbow order in the window every June for Pride.

Z is for Zebra. Because Z is always for zebra. Our zebra's name is Buzz, and you can hunt for him in a different spot every time you visit. (Searching for a buzz is very common in violin shops.)

Thank you for spending time with the A B Cs of Korinthian Violins! If you want to know more about our store, please visit us on our website at: korinthianviolins.com. (And much love to my husband, Ian Weisser, for being the other half of Korinthian Violins, and for showing me how to format this book.)