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When a Gig Goes to Pieces

1/31/2017

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Sometimes seams open on a violin.  Everything could fall apart.  This hollow body of wood and glue works hard, but it’s astonishingly fragile.  Worry gripped my heart for a beat.

When I picked it up from the luthier, I was relieved.  It cost just twenty dollars. The price was so reasonable, I considered my second violin.  Uncle Brian had unearthed it at a flea market in rural Texas, a dusty relic with a forgotten past.  The patch-work of improvised parts includes a cranked gear replacing one tuning peg, a wooden spoon fashioned into a chin-rest, and an elegant scroll carved with flowers.  It’s a mess of cracks and dings, the resulting tone makes me wince.  Maybe the people at Oklahoma Strings could work their magic again.

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