From the South West Airlines cargo section we headed over the Bay Bridge to the Ifshin Shop in El Cerrito, where we had a list of about 15 cellos to try. Coming from the parking lot one can enjoy the violin-shaped impressions in the concrete of_ the sidewalk. We entered a spacious and airy shop with kinetic iron sculptures of a violinist and a conductor in the entry. We were shown into a large green-carpeted room where, hanging from hooks near the walls, there must have been 60 cellos. Our handler pulled down those on our list, answered a few questions, then closed the door and discretely left us on our own. We had decided on a screening technique. I would play the same passage on each cello, demonstrating the important lower register of the cello. The upper register can often be improved by adjustment and string choice, but the lower can't, so that is the first place to screen. Rebecca would listen and give thumbs up or down. We started with an instrument that we knew had been part of a quartet that won the "sound" prize at the last VSA competition, made by Haide Lin, the master maker in the shop we were in. We compared each pair of cellos, sometimes rejecting the worse immediately, sometimes doing more extended comparison with Rebecca playing and me listening. We found ourselves reaching for all sorts of adjectives to try to verbalize different sound qualities in our comparisons, i.e. dark, bright, pointed or wedge-shaped, incomplete, round, smooth, coarse, brown, silvery etc. In spite of this verbalization we found it very difficult to really remember sound for more than a moment. We were also struck with the surprising difference in judgement of player versus listener. After a couple hours it appeared the only competitor to the Lin was probably the ugliest cello I have ever seen. The varnish of the top was an opaque irregular greyish brown with blotches and runny streaks like it had been used as a bar top for years, but it had a warm rich bass like an old instrument and better than any we had played that morning. It had no label other than "Mirecourt" (France) stamped inside, but it was obviously rather old. Unfortunately, or fortunately, we admitted, since we were anxious to reject this ugly duckling, the A string had a screechy mid-range. We asked one of the repair shop people to try to improve this, which they did with little result. The Lin was the winner, but we wished it had the "more round" sound of this older cello in the bass. We knew we needed a head to head comparison with the Whedbee, so I gave them my credit card info, signed a free trial agreement, and we headed with the Lin cello back to San Francisco. On the way Rebecca brought up an understandable regret about this cello. The maker, Haide Lin, years ago set up a strting instrument factory in Guanzhou, China, that turns out remarkably handsome and good sounding instruments for the price (about half that of this hand made cello) that are marketed under the label "Jay Haide." If Rebecca told other players she had bought a "Haide Lin" they might say (in confusion), "Oh yes, my friend has one of those. Those Chinese are doing great things, aren't they?" A regrettable confusion, compounded by the fact that this hand-made American prize winning cello is finished in much the same style as the factory ones.
Here is one to see: Jay Haide amazingly good factory cello Here is the one we liked: Haide Lin American hand made cello
Back at Donny's and Kurt's there was quickly no question that Donny's Whedbee won over Lin. It had that "dark, warm, round" sound we had been looking for, that Rebecca had been atuned to in Grubaugh's wonderful cellos. We asked Donny if we could leave Lin cello with him for security and take his Whedbee, our current champion, to the next round of comparisons the following day. He agreed.
Our final shop was well known to me, since the owner, Roland Feller, is a master repairman, the first choice of many Norther California players for difficult repairs, appraisals, expert opinion etc. It is located in a "low-rent" Divisadero district, with controlled and video monitored entry via a steel door. I had not been there in years, so I was shocked when I came to the top of the stairs. There were so many cello cases lined up all over that it looked like the famous underground terracotta warriors in China. Rebecca later said it looked a home in TV show she had seen about compulsive horders, but in this case the occupants were not compulsive, just overwhelmed and way, way, way behind on their work. When I quipped to Mrs Feller, who greeted us, that, "Your cellos are proliferating. Do they multiply at night?" she did not laugh. Even though the shop was closed mornings, except for those with special appointments like us, so Roland could get his work done, his wife already seemed a little enervated. Behind her on a shelf were six or eight large Rolodex's where she looked me up. No computers here! There was room for only one person at a time to pass by the front counter due to the crush of cello cases, all of which, she said, contained cellos. I commented on the obvious need for space (not to mention an assistant craftsman and reorganization). She said, "It would kill us to move."
We were shown into a smallish room encircled by phalanxes of cellos standing in wooden box supports. We were told where to start and where to end. I played in the near end of the room while Rebecca sat as far away as possible by the window to get some distance for the sound. Using our now familiar screening technique we were actually disappointed that the first 15 or so cellos seemed to be no competition for "our" Whedbee. There were some acoustically engineered German cellos with big but unfocused sound. All the modern italian instruments were the same shiny reddish-orange, smooth like a new car fender, with a kind of bright "boxy" sound. Finally we came upon some serious competition in 3 or 4 American cellos, one of which was a newer Whedbee, the others makers that Rebecca had seriously considered but rejected in Albuquerque. Rebecca was very happy for this circumstance, since she had expressed some doubt about the validity of the earlier search she had carried out entirely from the player perspective. This gave her a chance to evaluate these makers as a listener. After much critical playing back and forth it came down to Whedbee vs. Whedbee. The newer Whedbee clearly had a bigger sound, but we preferred the warmth and velvety finesse of Donny's cello, especially in the higher registers, where it was wonderful. We had a clear winner, no doubt! We left very excited about that, grateful to the Fellers for opening up especially for us, but saddened to see them stuck in such a challenging work environment.
Here is one to see: Jay Haide amazingly good factory cello Here is the one we liked: Haide Lin American hand made cello
Back at Donny's and Kurt's there was quickly no question that Donny's Whedbee won over Lin. It had that "dark, warm, round" sound we had been looking for, that Rebecca had been atuned to in Grubaugh's wonderful cellos. We asked Donny if we could leave Lin cello with him for security and take his Whedbee, our current champion, to the next round of comparisons the following day. He agreed.
Our final shop was well known to me, since the owner, Roland Feller, is a master repairman, the first choice of many Norther California players for difficult repairs, appraisals, expert opinion etc. It is located in a "low-rent" Divisadero district, with controlled and video monitored entry via a steel door. I had not been there in years, so I was shocked when I came to the top of the stairs. There were so many cello cases lined up all over that it looked like the famous underground terracotta warriors in China. Rebecca later said it looked a home in TV show she had seen about compulsive horders, but in this case the occupants were not compulsive, just overwhelmed and way, way, way behind on their work. When I quipped to Mrs Feller, who greeted us, that, "Your cellos are proliferating. Do they multiply at night?" she did not laugh. Even though the shop was closed mornings, except for those with special appointments like us, so Roland could get his work done, his wife already seemed a little enervated. Behind her on a shelf were six or eight large Rolodex's where she looked me up. No computers here! There was room for only one person at a time to pass by the front counter due to the crush of cello cases, all of which, she said, contained cellos. I commented on the obvious need for space (not to mention an assistant craftsman and reorganization). She said, "It would kill us to move."
We were shown into a smallish room encircled by phalanxes of cellos standing in wooden box supports. We were told where to start and where to end. I played in the near end of the room while Rebecca sat as far away as possible by the window to get some distance for the sound. Using our now familiar screening technique we were actually disappointed that the first 15 or so cellos seemed to be no competition for "our" Whedbee. There were some acoustically engineered German cellos with big but unfocused sound. All the modern italian instruments were the same shiny reddish-orange, smooth like a new car fender, with a kind of bright "boxy" sound. Finally we came upon some serious competition in 3 or 4 American cellos, one of which was a newer Whedbee, the others makers that Rebecca had seriously considered but rejected in Albuquerque. Rebecca was very happy for this circumstance, since she had expressed some doubt about the validity of the earlier search she had carried out entirely from the player perspective. This gave her a chance to evaluate these makers as a listener. After much critical playing back and forth it came down to Whedbee vs. Whedbee. The newer Whedbee clearly had a bigger sound, but we preferred the warmth and velvety finesse of Donny's cello, especially in the higher registers, where it was wonderful. We had a clear winner, no doubt! We left very excited about that, grateful to the Fellers for opening up especially for us, but saddened to see them stuck in such a challenging work environment.
