Kelvin W. M. Scott
Violinmaker

My interest in violins began in a roundabout fashion when my father inherited an old French instrument from an Aunt who was a classical violinist in Aberdeen, Scotland. When I was five, my parents asked me to choose an instrument to learn. While my brother and sister opted for the piano, I chose the violin. Under the tutelage of what must have been very patient teachers, I went on to play until high school.

For the next few years my academic work took sway and I set the violin aside. I received degrees from Michigan State University, and, after teaching in the Las Vegas public schools for two years, from Harvard University. While living in Cambridge, I returned to the violin, finding much needed relaxation in relearning the old fingerings and bowings. The year following graduation, I moved to Scotland, living in my family's croft on a small island in the Orkneys. Of course, my aunt's old violin, made the journey back across the Atlantic, and while gales blew across the North Sea, the two of us had many opportunities to explore the lively rhythms and melodies of Scottish folk music. While I was in Scotland, I happened to meet an old man who made violins and Hardanger Fiddles on an amateur basis. From that time forward, I was consumed with the idea of violin making. I read any book on the subject that I could lay my hands on and I began accumulating wood and tools.

I decided that formal study was necessary if I was to practice violin making at an advanced level. I was fond of the Midwest and so it seemed natural to apply to the Chicago School of Violin making. At Tschu Ho Lee’s school, I received an indoctrination to the basic methods of the violin maker --the learning of patience, sureness of hand, and awareness of line.

My study of violinmaking, however, took a fortuitous turn when the prominent American maker Gregg Alf, formerly of Curtin & Alf, offered me a summer position at Alf Studios. That first summer passed quickly and an offer to stay on indefinitely was extended, so I left school early to continue working and studying at Alf Studios. The environment at Alf Studios offered limitless possibilities for learning. Gregg Alf, a passionate and thoughtful follower of the classical Italian school, generously devoted his time and effort to seeing that his two apprentices came to appreciate the oft-misunderstood aspects of both the craft and art of violin making. Out of his love of violin making, he openly shared his extensive knowledge of wood selection, woodworking, and most importantly varnish cooking and application

Eventually, I opened a small shop in Chicago, and for three years set about developing personal and historical models that would render instruments that in the hands of musicians would compete in tonal quality and visual beauty with the finest quality new and old violins. In spring of 2003, I moved my violinmaking studio to Knoxville, Tennessee and have continued to dedicate myself full-time to the making of instruments of the violin family.

I feel fortunate to be professionally involved in such an exciting discipline. My making is constantly invigorated through my contacts and conversations with players and fellow makers. With each instrument I make, I endeavor to maintain the high standards that I learned while working with Gregg Alf. I am particularly interested in forming collaborations with players in the selecting of wood from my stockpiles, the choosing of a model, and the determining of the characteristics of the varnish, whether antiqued or new. This dialogue enriches both my own knowledge of what musicians' seek in an instrument as well as the musician’s understanding of a violin he or she may one day own.

Most recently, I was gratified to win a gold medal at the 2004 Violin Society of America compention for a 16 1/4" Brecian viola.

As I am a young violin maker in the process of establishing my reputation, I am able to offer an extremely high-quality violin at a very reasonable price, but I like to let my instruments speak for themselves, and so I encourage players looking for a remarkable instrument that can match their highest expectations to contact me and begin a conversation regarding what they would like in a new violin.

 Misc. Photographs


Lazy days on the wood pile, sun-tanning with new violins. Wood for Kelvin Scott's instruments is stored in well-ventilated stacks for at least five year before it is used, and many billets have already been aging for ten years.

We are constantly adding to our wood supply, making frequent trips to Europe for the specific task of expanding the variety and quality of our store.

As many of our violins are made after specific classical models, it is of the importance to have hundreds of pieces of wood to chose among when attempting to replicate the grain and curl characteristics of the spruce and maple of the master works of the 17th and 18th centuries.



Here is a photograph of Feng Jiang, my best friend in the world of violin making and old Alf Studios benchmate, with Richard Evich, for whom we collaborated in the making of a Sanctus Seraphin copy.

The making of exacting copies of historical instruments is one area in which I specialize. It is a welcome challenge to undertake the study and making of a new model, and it is particularly enjoyable when a musician contacts me with a particular model in mind. The collaboration that follows, such as the case was with Mr. Evich, is a rich and rewarding process, yielding at is end an extraordinary instrument in both accuracy of detail and tonal achievement



Usually once a year, I like to take violin making retreats in the Orkneys in my family's croft named South Gravity.

This also affords me time to catch up on some Scottish fiddling playing with relatives.









Here I am involved in one of the less glamorous aspects of violinmaking, the stripping of willow for blocks and linings with draw knife. While the final creation of violinamkers, the finished instrument, is magnificent. Much of violinmakers day to day work is very repetitive and certainly makes me sometimes wish for the days when a violinmakers workshop would be crawling with apprentices for this type of task.

Nevertheless, even this simple task of preparing block wood is one of the first of many steps, which, when pursued with attention and diligence, in the aggregate build upon each other to create a fine violin.

 


Nose over the varnish cooker again, fusing a new batch of Baltic amber. Summer is my designated time to cook the year's varnishes. Nothing cheers a violin maker like the smell of sun-thickened linseed oil , Baltic amber, and Venetian turpentine on the air. All of my oil varnishes are faithful to classical period recipes and provide a beautiful, deep finish on both my antiqued and unantiqued instruments.




A rare photo of my faithful assistant burning the midnight oil as she studies the finer points of Del Gesu ff hole placement.

 



E-mail: info@ksviolins.com Phone: (865) 215-9967