Sara: How are you, Paul? Busy, I imagine ...
Paul: Yes, quite busy. I’m working on a cello at the moment. It’s been a bit of a juggling act—I had to pause another project so I could meet some end-of year deadlines. But I’m used to it; violin making is all about balancing precision, time, and creativity.
Sara: I can only imagine! Well, I’ve put together some questions I would love to ask you, so let’s dive right in. Can you tell me what first drew you to violin making, and when did it all begin?
Paul: It goes back to when I was about 15 or 16. I remember watching a TV program about a violin maker, and it completely captured my imagination. There was something about the combination of craftsmanship, history, and music that felt deeply meaningful. By the time the program ended, I had this strong sense that I’d found my calling. It wasn’t just an interest—it was a conviction. I knew it was something I had to pursue.
Sara: That’s such a wonderful story—almost poetic! The calling of one’s path is something almost impossible to ignore. Do you remember the first instrument you worked on?
Paul: Oh, absolutely. It was a Viola d’Amore, and I started it while I was still at violin-making school. I didn’t actually finish that particular instrument, but I learned so much in the process.
Sara: How long did it take you to go from discovering violin making to actually starting?
Paul: I had to finish school first, but I didn’t waste any time. During school holidays, I visited violin makers and tried my hand at some basic tasks. It was exciting to get that hands-on experience so early—it felt like I was stepping into a tradition that stretched back centuries. Once I finished school at 18, I joined the Newark School of Violin Making. From the moment I started there, I knew I’d found my place. The combination of artistry, history, and technical skill was exactly what I’d been looking for.
Sara: That’s amazing, how many instruments have you made since then?
Paul: In the last decade, I’d say around 80. Before that, probably close to 100. Each one feels like its own journey. You’re not just making an object - you’re creating something that will connect with musicians and audiences for decades, maybe even centuries. It’s humbling to think about.
Sara: When you’re crafting an instrument, what’s your top priority in terms of quality and playability?
Paul: It all starts with choosing the right model, particularly if the instrument is being made for a specific musician. Every detail matters, so I think a lot about how the instrument will interact with their playing style and the kind of sound they’re looking for. Once the model is decided, the process becomes about balance … selecting the perfect wood, shaping the arching, determining the thicknesses. These aren’t just technical decisions; they’re artistic ones. Then, of course, there’s the varnish, which ties everything together visually and tonally. Each step is about creating harmony so that the instrument not only looks beautiful but feels alive in the hands of the musician.
Sara: That level of detail is incredible. Speaking of specifics, how do you approach creating a Bench Inspiration, like the one you worked on with Yamen Saadi?
Paul: Creating a bench-inspired instrument is a fascinating process. It starts with a lot of research - studying photos, scans, and, if possible, examining the original instrument in person. The goal isn’t to copy it but to understand its essence. Every instrument has its own personality, shaped by its maker’s choices and the passage of time. When I’m working on a bench inspiration, I try to internalize those unique details—the way the arching flows, the subtle asymmetries, the wear patterns, the texture of the varnish, the spirit of that particular instrument. The process also involves antiquing, which is where the artistry really shines. Antiquing isn’t just about making the instrument look old; it’s about capturing the temperature of the original. Every scratch, every subtle change in the varnish tells a story, and those details help bring the instrument to life. At the same time, I need to make sure the instrument will perform beautifully for modern musicians. It’s a delicate balance between staying true to the inspiration and crafting something that feels fresh and vibrant.
Sara: Are all Antonio Stradivari instruments made the same way, or do they vary?
Paul: They definitely vary. Stradivari followed the Cremonese system, which provided a strong foundation, but his style evolved significantly over his career. You can see it in the arching, the edges, even the varnish.
Sara: How long does that preparation process of a Stradivari usually take?
Paul: If the instrument is documented in detail—if there are scans, photographs, and measurements—it can take just a few days to feel fully familiar with a particular instrument. But with less-documented instruments, like some late-period Stradivari, it can take much longer. Those instruments often have subtleties that reveal themselves slowly. I spend a lot of time studying the design until I feel like I’ve absorbed it completely. Different from his Golden Period, the late ones have their own unique character. Each period reflects his response to the needs of musicians and the aesthetics of the time.
Sara: Let’s talk about Yamen’s violin. What stood out to you about that instrument?
Paul: Yamen’s violin is a remarkable example. Made by Antonio Stradivari in Cremona 1734, known as the Lord Amherst of Hackney, ex Fritz Kreisler. What makes it particularly unique is the wood of the back - it was cut differently than what’s typically used for violins. That choice affects both its appearance and its sound. The tone it produces is softer and rounder, which is unusual for a violin, but incredibly beautiful. Stradivari occasionally used this type of wood for his violas and cellos, but it’s rare to see it on a violin. It’s a stunning instrument with a lot of character, and an incredibly plentiful coating of the finest rich red varnish.
Sara: When making a bench-inspired instrument, do you replicate flaws as well?
Paul: If the “flaw” is integral to the instrument’s sound, then yes, absolutely. For example, Yamen’s Stradivari has uneven arching, which gives it a unique tonal character. Those kinds of imperfections often add personality to an instrument. Rather than seeing them as mistakes, I view them as part of the instrument’s story—and as long as they enhance the sound, they’re worth preserving.
Sara: What would you say is the most challenging part of crafting an instrument?
Paul: The two biggest challenges are varnish and sound. Varnishing is delicate work—every step, from preparing the wood to applying the ground and the color, requires absolute precision. A single misstep can ruin the entire appearance. Sound, on the other hand, is both a science and an art. The way the wood vibrates depends on so many factors—arching, thickness, setup. You’re constantly making decisions based on intuition, experience, and experimentation. It’s what makes this craft so demanding and so rewarding.
Sara: How many steps are involved in the entire process?
Paul: I could name around seven major phases:
1—Studying the model and preparing templates.
2—Building the instrument in white—this includes carving the wood and assembling the pieces.
3—Finishing the violin in white and applying a ground color to prepare for varnishing.
4—Varnishing, which is the riskiest and most delicate stage.
5—Antiquing to capture the spirit of the original instrument.
6—Setting up the bridge and sound post.
7—Making fine adjustments to the sound, in collaboration with the musician.
Sara: That’s such an intricate process. It must be so rewarding to hear the finished instrument being played. How did Yamen react to his violin?
Paul: (Laughing) ... I think he was absolutely thrilled. Hearing him play it for the first time was an incredible moment. The sound closely matches the original, and it was amazing to see how deeply he connected with it. When I heard it being played in Berlin, it was overwhelming in the best way. Moments like that make all the effort worthwhile.
Sara: I can imagine! Could I ask you, from your perspective about the differences between Antonio Stradivari and Giuseppe Guarneri del Gesù?
Paul: When comparing violins by Stradivari and del Gesù, their diffences can be analyzed in three key areas: craftsmanship, sound, and varnish.
Craftsmanship and Models: Both experimented a lot with their designs. Stradivari was incredibly consistent in quality throughout his 60-year career, even in his later years when he likely wasn’t doing much himself but maintained strict control. Del Gesù, on the other hand, started as a highly skilled woodworker, but after 1735 or so, his craftsmanship noticeably declined. I don’t believe it was just due to rushing or carelessness—I’ve tried working quickly myself, and it doesn’t explain the drop in quality. There’s speculation he might have been ill or facing other issues.
Sound: Stradivari violins tend to have a brighter sound, though I’ve noticed they got a bit darker toward the end of his life. Del Gesù violins are famous for their deep sound, particularly their strong G-string. His later instruments seem designed to emphasize this, with flatter arching and thicker wood, like in the Paganini “Canone” violin. I think these choices were deliberate compensations for his evolving model.
Varnish: The varnish they used was similar—likely bought from a local apothecary. However, Stradivari’s instruments show much more complexity in how the wood reflects light, which I believe comes from how he prepared the wood. Del Gesù's varnishing system is simpler, but the differences aren’t in the varnish itself, just the techniques.
Sara: Thank you so much for your time and sharing all of this. It’s fascinating to learn about your process.
Paul: Sara, now a question to you, as the representative of Stretton: What is the Stretton Society’s vision and approach to violin making in modern times?
Sara: For the Stretton Society, contributing to the legacy of violin making is super interesting and a became an important mission. In my conversations with Stephan (Co-Founder and Chairman of Stretton) I recognized how driven he is by the idea of a contemporary contribution to this craft. Instruments by Jean-Baptiste Vuillaume, for instance, are remarkable time capsules, offering a 19th-century maker’s perspective on a Stradivari and del Gesù. They reflect how these iconic instruments were regarded in his time and how their legacy continues to evolve. Stretton’s goal is to leave a lasting mark on violin making today and beyond. Working with an exceptional luthier like you, Paul, is a true privilege to us. By creating instruments that embody the essence of 18th-century masterpieces while incorporating your unique artistic vision, we ensure that this rich tradition is both preserved and reimagined for the future with instruments crafted to inspire and bring lots of joy to generations of musicians.
Paul: Why is it important for Stretton to engage with contemporary violin making, and what are the different reasons behind this involvement?
Sara: For Stretton, it’s a cause to give back to the musical community by making the spirit instruments by Antonio Stradivari, Giuseppe Guarneri del Gesù and other great makers, through our Bench Inspirations, accessible to fine musicians who might not have the financial means or support to play the originals. It’s about fostering inclusivity and breaking down barriers and exclusivity, ensuring that the magic of instruments by these important makers can be shared with a broader community of musicians. The goal is to “democratize” these rare treasures, offering a chance for artists to thrive and create, even if it’s in an abstract way.
Paul: Thank you for your thoughtful questions... and answers!—it’s been a pleasure to talk to you, about Stretton and about the work I love.