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<\/a>I spoke to Monteleone from his Long Island workshop as a new documentary about him called The Chisels Are Calling<\/a><\/em> was about to make its way onto DVD. Shown on display, in progress, and in the hands of players like Julian Lage, Ben Harper, the late Woody Mann, and others, the film showcases Monteleone\u2019s approach to lutherie in which, as Mark Knopfler says, \u201cEvery piece of [the guitar] is a work of art.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The title of your documentary emphasizes the word chisels. Are you still building everything by hand?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m sort of an old-fashioned guy [laughs<\/em>]. I build by hand mostly, and the machinery that I use is fairly simple and straightforward\u2014nothing terribly exotic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What made you decide to build a guitar in the first place? <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n In 1958 or \u201959, I was about ten when I first starting hearing guitars on the radio. I was already a piano student; I\u2019ve been one of those all my life. But rock \u2019n\u2019 roll was on my list. I began to desire a few different kinds of guitars\u2014Fenders and Gibson Les Pauls. There was this hit called \u201cSleepwalk\u201d by Santo & Johnny. I looked at the album cover and saw that triple-neck steel guitar, and that would be the first project I tried to build\u2014a copy of that guitar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So you started with something easy\u2014a triple neck?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Yeah. But I never finished it because I got distracted by other guitars. I wanted to have a Martin D-28, but it was too expensive, as was the D-18. So I would go to local music stores looking for similar guitars so that I could try to memorize their forms and copy them. That became my mission. By the time I was 14, I started to build a mahogany dreadnought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n How did you learn? Were there books at the time?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Somewhere along the way, I found a drawing that I traced to make a template. One day my dad drove me into New York City, to H.L. Wild, where you could find wood to build instruments. I collected the materials to try and build this thing. The only book I could find was How to Make a Spanish Guitar<\/em> by A.P. Sharpe, about classical, not steel-string, construction. But I understood the difference and would make up modifications along the way, starting with the form, the body outline, and then the bracing. I figured it out and copied the D-18 as best as I could. I still have that guitar today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n How long did it take you to complete it once you got the materials?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n When I built that first guitar, I laid out the frets according to a formula that I got on the first day I bought my materials, on how to lay out the frets mathematically. I did that the best I could using the vernier measuring system to the nearest one thousandth of an inch. After I\u2019d finished the whole thing, it always had this intonation problem. So I figured, \u201cOne day I\u2019ll try and fix this.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Meanwhile, a couple of years float by, and I\u2019m already building another guitar, Number Two, so Number One never really gets the full attention that it should have. It sat around for about 50 years. I took off the neck because it needed a reset, and thought, \u201cThat neck was never really any good anyway.\u201d Finally, last year, I got the thing out and said, \u201cToday is the day\u2014I\u2019m the guy who built this guitar! Why can\u2019t I build another neck for it?\u201d And that\u2019s exactly what I did, in a bolt-on style. It came out beautifully, and for the first time, I was able to play that guitar in tune and enjoy what it really sounds like. It brought a tear to my eye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So your first guitar was a mahogany dreadnought. What came next?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n By 1965, I managed to buy a secondhand D-18, so I was able to access all the information I needed to make that second guitar, which was an Indian rosewood dreadnought. I built it on the kitchen table in my first apartment, and I still have that guitar, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Did you or others perform with your early guitars? <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n During my college years, I was playing quite a bit. Every week there seemed to be some kind of gig. I had a partner; we called ourselves John and John. My college was in Missouri, so we performed in that area, in Iowa, Nebraska, and Kansas. We even made a demo that I had on tape that was sitting around for years. I recently digitized it, and I even put it on vinyl [laughs<\/em>].<\/p>\n\n\n\n When did you decide that you wanted to build guitars for living?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n After I got out of college, I was working for my father\u2019s pattern making business when I heard about Mandolin Brothers<\/a>. [See a shop visit to the legendary New York store, which has since closed, in the May 2011 issue<\/a>. \u2014ed.<\/em>] The owners were guests on a radio show. I called the next day and arranged a trip to go in there to see some mandolins. I told them [owners Stan Jay and Hap Kuffner] I had built some guitars and they said they would like to see them. Their business was just getting started at the time; they didn\u2019t have a repairperson, so they saw my work and offered me the job. <\/p>\n\n\n\n That was the very beginning of any idea of making a career of repairing instruments, let alone building them. Right off the bat, I was building replica [Gibson] Mastertone banjo necks, five-string necks, for converting tenors into fives. Along with that I was getting some Martins for neck resets, crack repairs, etc. Then the parade of instruments crossing my workbench just elevated. I got to see so many interesting, fascinating instruments. My university was right there on my workbench.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Was there an instrument that sent you in a new direction? Or was it more about compiling ideas and influences and putting them into the mixer?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n I was beginning to see quite a variety of instruments, from good to bad and in between. So I was able to examine and evaluate them quite easily. Some beautiful specimens would come in. It wouldn\u2019t be unusual for me to see original Martin D-45s, OM-45s, OM-28s, and other 1930s instruments. Some wonderful Gibsons also came through that contributed to that educational experience. It was a serendipitous moment to gather all that input. I was also beginning to see some Lloyd Loar [signed] mandolins [those made by Gibson between 1922 and 1924] that I could examine quite easily, and I learned a lot from that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When did you start building for others?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n At the time, Loar mandolins were beginning to get so expensive that the average musician couldn\u2019t afford them, so I saw an opportunity to make replicas at a much more affordable price. Mandolin Brothers was my exclusive agent for these mandolins, which I called M-5s. They were notated on the interior as replicas, but I think the first eight even said Gibson on the headstock. Then I was testing the field out there, making some mandolins with my name, and they were accepted. From that point on, I never put Gibson on any of my instruments. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Did building mandolins influence your guitar designs?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Sure. It played a part in my understanding of tone, the tonal balances within the instrument itself. I have to go back to the first archtop guitar I ever saw, a D\u2019Angelico New Yorker, when I was 12 years old. It was brand-new\u2014the guy had just taken delivery of it. When he opened the case, the lacquer just wafted out of it to my face. It was unbelievable, a beautiful blonde cutaway. <\/p>\n\n\n\n That image stayed with me for many years until I was beginning to work on some D\u2019Angelicos at Mandolin Brothers. That would play into my understanding about the tonality, balance, and response of these guitars\u2014not only that, but also the potential uses of the archtop. I was beginning to have a broad mix of musicians come through my shop\u2014jazzers as well as fingerstyle and bluegrass players\u2014who were looking for more sensitive, user-friendly, adaptive, and tonally balanced instruments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Can you elaborate on that?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n By the 1980s, I was beginning to see a more intimate approach, with players gravitating toward early [Gibson] L-5s from the late \u201920s and early \u201930s. Those L-5s are smaller bodied, 16-inch, and were being used by some of my friends who were playing fingerstyle or open-tunings-style, Chet Atkins\u2013style, or blues. They were looking for a more versatile instrument\u2014not just a \u201cchunk-chunk\u201d or strumming type of guitar, an orchestral instrument.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At the same time, the conditions were changing for the professional musician\u2014cabarets, Broadway, live gigs, and the recording industry\u2014all of that was changing. And so starting in the late \u201980s, you began to see a real movement into a more intimate, solo style of home recording for guitarists.<\/p>\n\n\n\n How did these different factors influence your design philosophy?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n A few different things come to mind. One is tradition. Back in the 1960s and \u201970s, musicians expected to see certain things in the way guitars and mandolins looked and sounded. The idea of an individual luthier coming on the scene was something new and yet to be proven. You were up against traditional values. For the individual luthier to challenge that, they would have to prove themselves. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I always understood that my instruments were going to have to sing for their supper, so there\u2019s been a real obligation to have them be fully functional, desirable, and inspiring instruments for musicians to play. I\u2019ve always based my guitars on this very simple foundation on which I can build something that has individuality. As an independent luthier, I\u2019ve never wanted to be repetitive and build the same instrument over and over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/a><\/a><\/a><\/a><\/a><\/a>