Maybe I should just stop watching YouTube.
On the one hand, I learn a lot.
On the other hand, I often learn just enough to get myself into trouble.
Such is the case with re-hairing a couple of violin bows.
The technology of the fiddle bow hasn’t changed in a couple of centuries.
What could possibly go wrong?
From no-skill repair to high-skill repair in 4.2 seconds.
I’m only writing this up because this repair has had an unexpected work-flow. Surely almost nobody has an interest in the detail of bow-rehairing.
In theory, this is a straightforward disassembly-and-reassembly repair. Like plumbing, say.
Like plumbing, I need to replace an absolutely standardized wear-and-tear part. In this case, it’s the hank of horsehair that that runs the length of the bow. Like plumbing, the assembly that holds it together is just friction-fit. It’s designed to come apart and be put back together.
So, again in theory, anybody who can follow directions and has some manual dexterity should be able to do it.
Cue maniacal laughter.
Source: Free Evil Laughter Sound Effects!
I’m used to repairs going wrong. That’s just the way things work. Typically, that means a bit of extra time, maybe an extra part or two. Broadly speaking, you end up having to do more of what you set out to do in the first place.
Not this time, which is the odd part. This time, a couple of itty-bitty details mean that I now need a couple of skill sets that I don’t have. First, precision woodworking. I need to carve little teeny blocks of wood to extremely fine tolerances. That’s to replace a part that had to be removed destructively because it was glued in place in one of the bows. Second, precision leatherwork. To replace an unusably-worn grip on the second bow.
Stradivari: The Renaissance genius who introduced the self-tapping sheet metal screw and friction tape to the art of violin-making.
Source: Encyclopedia Britannica
OK, that’s obviously a joke. A first-class renaissance luthier would have put a fiddle together using wood screws. Obviously. Not sheet metal.
Anyway, there was a clearly defined point where this repair had run off the rails. And that’s when I found myself driving a self-tapping screw into the tip of the bow, trying to dislodge the wooden wedge that had been glued into place there.
My wife insists that, to avoid undue anxiety among those who cherish fine musical instruments, I must reveal that the screwed bow is a cheap piece o’ crap. I have a very nice wooden bow that I am also rehairing. But I had the good sense to start on the $35 Fiberglas bow that I bought, once upon a time, to put off rehairing the good bow. Said cheapness probably explaining why the wooden wedges are glued into place, in my Fiberglas bow.
Strangely enough, this is not — repeat not — a stupid thing to do. Not necessarily, anyway. The bow hair is held in with wooden wedges. They are supposed to be friction-fit. No glue, just precision woodwork. But morons have been gluing those wedges into place for a long time. Standard instructions for bow rehairing say that if you run across one that’s been glued in, you may engage in the destructive removal of that wooden wedge by any plausible means.
Problem is, now I need the skills to carve and fit a tiny little new wedge. It’s maybe a quarter-inch in its largest dimension. It’s an irregular trapezoidal shape, with a hollow carved in the bottom. Make it too big, and you’ll split the tip of the bow. Make it too small, and the horsehair will come out, likely at an inopportune time.
How much do you want to bet that I end up gluing the new one in place?
The other skill I need, that I don’t have, is for fine leatherwork. I need to fit a new “grip” on one of the bows. It’s just a thin piece of leather, wrapped around the stick of the bow to give you something grippy to hold onto. I’ve now seen videos of that being done, and I’m pretty sure I lack the skills. For sure, I lack the patience.
So it’s looking like this particular bow is going to get a grip make out of friction tape. Works on baseball bats and hammer handles. No reason why it wouldn’t work here.
But it ain’t right. Ain’t even close to doing this right.
What will I go through merely to avoid humiliation?
In the end, that’s what this boils down to. What started out to be a simple dissassembly-reassembly repair has turned into a moral dilemma. Am I willing to put in the time, to do a half-baked repair, just to avoid abasing myself in front of the local music store clerk?
If, at the start, I had simply handed the bows off to my local music shop, they’d have arranged to have both bows re-haired and repaired. The total would have been under $200.
Even now, after I’ve taken the bows apart, I could probably still just hand them the pieces, and they’d arrange to have them fixed.
But the price has gone up. Now it’ll cost me around $200. Plus a fair degree of humiliation. Because I’m now the knucklehead who thought he could re-hair a bow, but failed.
So what’s it going to be? Swallow my pride, and get these repaired correctly? Or invest time, money, and effort at finishing my half-assed repair, just so I can avoid having to admit making a mistake?
Not even close. I’m off to Home Depot to pick up a quarter-inch-thick basswood poplar plank. Just Close enough to the right material for making minature wooden wedges.
