Sunday, August 9, 2020

You Say, "Mbira," I Say, "Kalimba..."

I've loved the sound of mbiras since I first heard them.  I mentioned this fact once to a friend who had a small one in his office and he later surprised me with one as a gift; I keep it on my table of favorite instruments in my studio.  Building one from a kit seemed like an obvious choice for getting my feet wet in instrument making, so when one came on sale last month, I didn't blink.  Here's the finished piece:

Front/top.


Back.


Right side.

I learned in researching for this post that "mbira" is a broader class of instruments of which "kalimba" is a particular type; this kit is, as far as I can tell, properly a kalimba.  I'm happy with the way it turned out.  Most important, of course, is the sound, which is lovely; the folks who designed it seem to know what they're doing.  The shellac finish came out well enough.  It's not terribly robust, which I knew, but I like what it did to the wood (hard to see in detail in these pix) and I'm looking forward to seeing how it ages; critically, it seems not to interfere with the sound, which was my primary criterion.  

(A brief search online reveals a wide and enthusiastic debate about what finishes are best for musical instruments with wooden resonators.  Polymerized varnishes like one finds on tables or basketball court floors are tough as nails but that property actually mutes vibrations.  Lacquer is common on pianos and electric guitars for its relative strength and ease of application with the right equipment, but that equipment is expensive and lacquer itself is nasty toxic.  Oils like tung or linseed are lovely but terribly slow to cure and I'm unsure of their acoustic effects -- and no one seems to use them on musical instruments.  The varnish used on violins is based on tree sap and has ingredients that can cost hundreds of dollars an ounce, and I'm no Antontio Stradivari anyway.  On the other hand, shellac is made of inexpensive, natural, non-toxic ingredients, can be layered to a lovely finish and dries rapidly; it is used by many luthiers for classical guitars, so it has demonstrated acceptable acoustic properties.  As I said, it's not terribly strong, but these are musical instruments, not pub bars or gym floors, so I think that's an acceptable downside.  And that's why I settled on shellac.)

There were, as is always the case with new projects, a few things that didn't go as I had hoped, the most noteworthy of these is the mark:  I had planned -- and, indeed, attempted -- to affix a paper label with my logo, the date, and instrument number (this is #2 after the bowed clock chime) inside the soundbox, viewable through the soundhole.  Unfortunately, my method for securing it failed and the label came off after the instrument was nearly complete.  Further experiments will be made.  

I learned quite a bit on this kit, identifying whole categories of things I didn't know that I didn't know.  On the whole, though, it was a very validating experience:  there was no question in my mind that I was (and remain) very ignorant on the subject of musical instrument design and building, but it turned out I knew more than I thought and was able to apply much of it to the discoveries of what I didn't know.  I'm very excited about this work and am looking forward to new, future experiments.  (A bowed psaltery is next in line!)

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