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Precious cases
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Ruphus
Posts: 3782
Joined: Nov. 18 2010
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 Precious cases
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One of the opportunites that I still regret to have not grabbed was a truely stunning Gibson 12-stringer, offered to me for peanuts long ago.
That things wasn´t just the best playable and sounding steeler I ever came accross, but just its case alone seemed to have been manufacturered with more dediation than average instruments out there.
Covered with leather, equipped with solid locks, a smooth handle, and its lid opening like a queen´s casket.
I wonder whether there exist boutique manufacturers / shops that would be offering thelike for guitars / flamenco guitars still these days.
From the searches on the internet that I made, it looks as if such productions would have faded away internationally.
Sure, these days with all that common upcharge, such would very likely turn out too expensive, but I´m curious to see anyway.
Have you heard of such anywhere / got a link?
Thanks,
Ruphus
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REPORT THIS POST AS INAPPROPRIATE |
Date Nov. 13 2011 15:36:59
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Richard Jernigan
Posts: 3431
Joined: Jan. 20 2004
From: Austin, Texas USA
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RE: Precious cases (in reply to Ruphus)
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Sometime in the early 1970s my guitar playing buddy Pat H. and I saw a magnificent case at the Mexico City workshop of Juan Pimentel Ramirez, the great luthier.
The case was covered in thick tan saddle leather. It was carved and stamped in the Aztec floral patterns one sees in firearms holsters in the southwest USA. The locks and hinges were solid metal, presumably brass, polished and gold plated. Besides an aroma of saddle leather, the case exuded an air of the highest quality.
The owner was there to pick up his guitar. Pimentel had done a little work on it. Pat audibly admired the case. The owner proudly opened it, showing the green crushed velvet interior, and a highly decorated Pimentel guitar of the first class. Pat asked where the owner had acquired the case.
Pimentel called for one of his assistants to supply a scrap of paper. The case owner noted down an address in the Colonia Independencia, not far from the hotel where Pat and I were staying, near the huge Buenavista train station.
The next day we hired a knowledgeable cabbie and set out in search of the case maker. The cabbie, despite decades of experience, said the address was unfamiliar, but not to worry, he would ask directions.
After more than an hour of criss-crossing the Independencia neighborhood, following doubtful suggestions, or just questing, the cabbie threw up his hands, shrugged expressively, and admitted defeat. Pat was crestfallen. Just at that moment a detachment of the Mexico City Police marched down the sidewalk, under the command of their corporal. He was putting them out on their beats in pairs, picking up the cops coming off shift.
The azules, named for their blue uniforms that distinguished them from the granadero riot police and the tamarindo motorcycle cops, had a formidable reputation. Young, fit, with white sidewall haircuts and spotless uniforms, swinging big clubs, they were known for vicious cruelty and sadism. If something bad happened, you wanted to be gone before the azules showed up, no matter which side of the law you were on.
Pat said, "Ask the azules for the address." The cabbie quietly, but terminally refused to have anything to do with them. Pat appealed to me, knowing I would have to avoid the appearance of cowardice.
I got out of the cab and approached the corporal. He surveyed me with disdain, until he glanced at my handmade boots and read me for what i was: a prosperous tourist dressed down for a dicey neighborhood. The corporal snapped off a salute, and said, "A sus órdenes, señor."
I stated my business. He responded with detailed directions, accompanied by sweeping gestures. I thanked him and returned to the cab.
"Well?" said Pat, grinning in anticipation.
"He doesn't know."
"He doesn't know? What the hell do you mean? I saw him giving you directions for five minutes!"
"Right. Still, he doesn't know."
"!!!???"
"Look Pat, you and Jeanie have lived in Mexico City. You know how people will give you directions when they have no idea what you're talking about, or how they'll say, 'Just a little further' when you're totally lost."
"Yeah, but he's a cop."
"And he couldn't afford to look stupid in front of his troops."
"How can you be so sure he doesn't know?"
"I just know, that's all."
The cabbie understood far more English than he had let on at first. More than once he glanced at me in the mirror, rolled his eyes slightly and gave a tiny shake of the head.
"Okay," I asked Pat, "do you want to follow his directions?"
"Sure."
After another fifteen minutes of twists and turns we ended up at a huge supermarket. The cabbie asked if we were ready to go back to the hotel. It wasn't a suggestion, it was a statement of intention.
Pat talked about that case for years. I would have liked to have one myself. On my next visit to Pimentel I asked him about it. Always taciturn, the Maestro just smiled, gave a slight sake of the head, and returned to the subject of ordering guitars.
RNJ
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REPORT THIS POST AS INAPPROPRIATE |
Date Nov. 14 2011 1:20:07
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Ruphus
Posts: 3782
Joined: Nov. 18 2010
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RE: Precious cases (in reply to Ricardo)
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Thank you, Ricardo!
These already look better than common specimens, and I bookmarked the site.
However, they still belong to the more practical / protecting design class for carrying around, while I would like to see cases with focus on eye candy and craftmanship for use at home / only short and safe trips.
Thank you for clarifying, Charles!
It must be telling about taxes in GB, which seem to be even heftier than in Germany.
Nice story, Richard.
( I´ve been waiting for dizzy Hemingway, sitting at a small coffee table outside a mini café, waving at you homemates to come over and share a tequilla with him.)
Your Mexican event shows that we are after the same thing.
If you as a wealthy voyager havn´t been succesful with finding such ( already back then!) than it must be a sign for how rare and exclusive thelike production must be today.
If I had been in your place, besides, I wouldn´t have let go that easily / friendly pested sen. Ramirez until he either admitted to not know or hopefully started digging out the phone no. / address. ( When about relevant contents, the finer etiquette goes out the window;  hehe )
Weird anyway, how he wouldn´t take the chance to have his guitars grafted with such cases / at least offer the choice to his customers.
Ruphus
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REPORT THIS POST AS INAPPROPRIATE |
Date Nov. 14 2011 9:50:41
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