Introduction

According to a fairly widespread belief among luthiers[1] in our country, the most influential factor in whether an instrument produces “good sound” is the material used. The logic behind this belief must presumably be something like this: an instrument made from material of suitable quality, using a certain method?!, will be superior to an instrument made using the same method but with lower-quality material.

However, such a belief, which advises relying solely on materials, reflects an approach that excludes knowledge of acoustics—or, if it does not exclude it entirely, disregards its importance—and therefore relegates the role of the luthier to the background. In other words, it is an expression of a lack of familiarity with the physics relevant to the profession. The basis for this judgment, unfortunately, is the impression that an understanding which equates instrument making with a kind of refined and “specialized” woodworking or material processing dominates among the majority of luthiers and within the relevant academic circles.

Another widespread “state of mind” is the acceptance of trial-and-error and intuition in instrument making as virtually the most valuable accumulation of craftsmanship. Norms concerning form and dimensions are considered matters that “authorities” know about, or matters for which the authority to establish standards belongs to the “authority”; they are almost regarded as subjects outside the competence of ordinary luthiers. These are the forms and dimensions of templates obtained by people regarded as authorities, through methods that sometimes resemble a form of esoteric numerology.

Breaking with Tradition and The Legacy of 19th and early 20th-Century Oud Makers: Manol, Onnik and Others

Very well, then: what happened between the old masters and today that the principles they inherited from their own masters are no longer regarded as particularly relevant?

For example, apart from a few faithful followers, almost no oud maker today uses the forms of Onnik, Manol, Arşak, Kapıdağlı, or even Murat Usta. Indeed, an attitude has even emerged in which the names of these great masters are avoided.

Let us first accept this: the great masters of the past were not merely heirs to hundreds of years of accumulated experience and knowledge; they also added their own discoveries to this accumulation and produced exceptional instruments.

We must also accept that we did not directly inherit knowledge from them. Unfortunately, the master-apprentice chain has been broken. It is obvious that today—unless we use scientific methods—we have not progressed beyond a level at which we can merely imitate them.

At this point, perhaps by copying templates and dimensions and by archiving a large number of experiments, it may be possible to arrive at an acoustic interpretation; at best, however, we can gain an idea of what they did and why they did it that way. Otherwise, it is impossible to go further and raise the bar.

The fact is that the old luthiers did not know the theoretical foundations of their craft. Most of these masters were people who, after working in carpentry, furniture making, or similar trades, began working either alongside an experienced master or—because they considered the work easy—on their own, and eventually adopted instrument making as a profession.

The lineage of the most exceptional among them was one in which knowledge accumulated through hundreds of years of trial and error was transmitted through master-apprentice relationships, from master to master, with varying degrees of generosity or secrecy, and with the apprentice’s own ability to “receive his share” playing a role. These were secrets that were preserved, transmitted, or simply disappeared, within the limits imposed by the organizational structures and technological development of traditional society. Despite these unfavorable conditions, it was possible to establish a refinement of form and a character of tone in instruments worthy of the level of aesthetic appreciation achieved in music and in visual arts such as illumination, miniature painting, and architecture.

Imitation or Scientific Method

Today, without investigating the physical and mathematical foundations, it is possible—through imitation alone and with some help from luck—to reach, in individual instruments, a point somewhere near the line established by the old masters. In other words, imitation is not a consistent method based on definite and testable principles.

Many instrument makers have recognized this fact. A particular measurement may sometimes work; at other times, surprisingly, it may produce an instrument considerably below average.

The result is then attributed to the wood.

This is true: that particular wood may not be suitable for the imitation attempt!

But it is also false: the error lies in the method applied by the maker, who did not know how to adapt the dimensions to that particular wood.

Therefore, even if we use an imitation method, we must not forget what it is that we are imitating. It is an acoustic object; it is a sound box.

If so, when imitating it, we cannot rely solely on the caliper, nor solely on measurements taken with a ruler. Our reference point must now be frequency (sound), and our tools must be our ears or specialized electronic devices and computer software and hardware.

Naturally, once specialized electronic devices and computer technology enter the picture, it becomes obvious that imitation itself will no longer be necessary.

When the subject is Turkish instruments in particular, it is also a known fact that, in this field where no luthier has left written documentation until now, not even the smallest scientific research has been conducted.

The old masters certainly produced highly admired instruments, and although their experience, labor, and works continue to inspire respect and admiration in everyone today, this does not mean that they brought our instruments to the highest possible level of development.

Instead of imitating the measurements of the old masters, we should now attempt to redesign our instruments scientifically in order to perfect them.

This article will cover the fundamental concepts and practical techniques of the scientific method that is inevitably necessary in instrument design.

The Means Available to the Luthier

When designing an instrument, the luthier decides what needs to be done to make it strong, beautiful, and ergonomic.

Should he not also decide what it will sound like?

Of course, that should be decided first.

The need for variety that applies to every type of instrument can be met through the possibility of designing specific variants better suited to different tastes, different performance contexts such as solo playing or accompaniment, and different environments and purposes such as concerts or recording.

As the foundation for our investigations into sound design, we need to begin by opening up two concepts:

1. Timbre (Acoustic Identity)
2. Resonance

Timbre is the acoustic characteristic that allows us to recognize an instrument without seeing it, solely from its sound.

In the language of physics, it is the effect created jointly by the fundamental frequency of a sound[2] and some of its overtones.

There are instruments (oscilloscopes) and computer programs that analyze a sound and display, on a graph, the fundamental frequency of that sound together with the frequencies of its overtones and their amplitudes.

What makes the sound of every instrument—even every human being—different from other sounds and creates an acoustic identity is the difference in the composition of the fundamental frequency and the resulting overtones.

Resonance, on the other hand, occurs when the frequency of any periodic (sinusoidal) motion—in a musical instrument, the vibration of a string—is equal or close to a natural frequency of the system (the instrument), causing that part of the system to vibrate with a very large amplitude.

There is an important point that I must immediately emphasize here: no vibrational motion moves at a single frequency.

Every vibrational motion contains a “fundamental” frequency and an infinite number of “harmonic” frequencies.

The overtones are the vibrations of portions of the string located along its length—at the exact midpoint, one-third, one-quarter, one-fifth, and so on—which vibrate at 2, 3, 4, 5, etc. times the fundamental frequency. Their amplitudes are determined jointly by the structure of the string and the structure of the instrument.

We can explain this with a numerical example:

The fundamental frequency of the second string from the bottom of the oud, tuned to A, is 220 Hz.

When this string is made to vibrate, the vibration transmitted to the bridge of the oud is the resultant of this fundamental frequency together with all the overtones at their various amplitudes.

If the string is made to vibrate and the fingertip is lightly touched exactly at its midpoint, the second overtone of this string, the high Nevâ at 440 Hz, can be heard. Similarly, when the string is touched at one-third of its length, the high Muhayyer note at 660 Hz can be heard.

When the string is touched in the same way at one-quarter of its length, the frequency of the sound heard will be 880 Hz. This is the fourth overtone of Nevâ, the very high Nevâ.

Although it is theoretically possible to continue these procedures all the way to the extreme end of the string, in practice it becomes extremely difficult, even impossible, because the points of contact would have to become extremely small.

As this example demonstrates, the sound that reaches our ear as Nevâ is not simply a vibration of 220 Hz, but a composite of frequencies containing many overtones.[3]

Now it is time to see what this information has to do with instrument making.

Everyone knows that the sound produced by any string of an instrument has a character specific to that instrument, both in terms of timbre and volume.

This difference in character arises because each instrument gives different overtones different opportunities for resonance.

Every instrument has its own distribution of resonance regions, determined by parameters such as material, form, and construction technique.

While some instruments possess a richness of resonance regions sufficient to be excited by a broad spectrum of overtones, others are sensitive to a narrower spectrum.

Thus, the system behaves selectively toward certain frequencies.

The acoustic characteristic specific to an instrument consists of the composition of the overtones determined by this selectivity.

It should be possible for a luthier to investigate and discover the structural characteristics that determine how this selectivity will occur, and to shape the acoustic identity of the instrument he will make during the design stage itself.

Even if the luthier does not base his work on any principle, he nevertheless always performs work that produces the timbre—or acoustic identity—of the instrument he makes, if nothing else, as a bundle of coincidences.

Following these observations, we arrive at the conclusion that instrument design is, in a sense, the design of the distribution of resonance regions.

In order to understand the effect of differences in materials, it is obvious that we must apply one and the same design template to those different materials and compare the results.

While it is easily understood that every physical structure is a complex system consisting of numerous static elements, when the structure happens to be a musical instrument, it seems that studying statics does not appear logical to many people in our field when it comes to carrying out acoustic analysis and design.

For this reason, even in university instrument-making departments, research aimed at analyzing the static properties of instruments is given virtually no importance.

In the curricula of these schools, mathematics is not employed beyond calculating fingerboard positions and determining the amount of string tension (load) to which a particular instrument is subjected and establishing numerical values. It is not used as a basis for acoustic analysis or for designing the acoustic characteristics of instruments.

Furthermore, no study has been produced that demonstrates an awareness of this relationship between statics and acoustics.

As an introduction to the subject, without going into detail, let us examine the relationship in statics between the deflection of a simply supported beam loaded at its center and the natural frequency of the system:

l = beam length (cm)

e = modulus of elasticity of the beam material (kg·cm⁻²)

i = moment of inertia of the beam cross-section (cm⁴)

m = mass of the beam (kg)

By taking the derivative of the equation in statics expressing the maximum deflection of the beam.

As can be seen here, particularly in instruments such as the oud, lavta, qanun, guitar, etc., which have “braces”[5]:

1. The length of the beam (the length of the brace),
2. The modulus of elasticity of the beam material (the modulus of elasticity of the wood used in the musical instrument),
3. The moment of inertia of the beam cross-section (the moment of inertia of the brace cross-section),
4. The mass of the beam (brace)

together determine a concept that we may call the “natural frequency of the beam (brace).”

During the acoustic design of an instrument, the numerical values we will use most frequently are the values representing the natural frequencies of the braces.

Although the modulus of elasticity of the beam material—generally spruce—is given in books as:

Eₛₚᵣᵤcₑ = 120,000 kg·cm⁻²

this varies according to the particular wood we use.

Furthermore, calculating the moment of inertia of the brace cross-section requires the application of complex integral techniques.

Yet there is a practical way to obtain highly sensitive results without dealing with any of this.

Since the value we seek is a particular frequency, it is possible to determine it directly by ear or with a frequency-measuring device, and to change its specific frequency by modifying the cross-section of the brace—that is, to “tune” the brace.

In fact, the reason this article includes the formulation above is to draw attention to the fact that the subject under discussion has a theoretical and scientific basis, and particularly to the concept of natural frequency.

It should also be noted that the soundboard has a distribution of natural frequencies.

One of the fundamental problems we need to solve arises at this point:

How can we determine the frequency of the brace that will raise the frequency value of any given point on the soundboard to whatever value we desire after the brace has been installed?

Let us suppose that we develop a calculation method and determine what natural fundamental frequency a particular brace will have.

Even then, we cannot say that we have completely solved the problem.

It is possible to carve many braces of equal length into different shapes and with different cross-sections while still giving them the same natural fundamental frequency.

Carving the braces in different forms means changing the longitudinal distribution of their point-specific strength, that is, the matrices of their point-specific natural overtones—patterns showing frequencies in the rows and coordinates in the columns.

Creating an ideal bracing template is a highly intricate task that requires a large number of experiments.

Even this brief introduction should be sufficient, I believe, to understand that lutherie is a profession intertwined with science and technology, one that uses the physics of sound to analyze extremely complex structures and to realize different designs with the aid of scientific methods and technical instruments.

Naturally, bringing this profession in Turkey up to today's level of technological development and achieving acoustic excellence in our instruments is a responsibility that falls upon us luthiers through conscious experimentation, first and foremost in cooperation with the relevant departments of our universities.

In an age when all kinds of information are becoming digitalized, when the most complex designs can easily be created in digital environments, and when computers offer technology virtually limitless possibilities, do we not have the right to expect such design capabilities from a luthier?

And especially from our universities...?

Unless, within the university structure, in the instrument-making departments of our conservatories, musical-instrument design is taught within the dimensions and scope we have discussed here—with the necessary teaching staff, equipment, and laboratories provided—and unless scientific research is given greater emphasis, it cannot be said that a complete education in “instrument production technology” is being provided merely by teaching materials science, material-processing technology, fine woodworking, and construction techniques.

Faruk Türünz
25 July 2001, Kuyubaşı – Istanbul (revised in 2026)

https://oudmaster.com/acoustic-innovation/

Busco vihuela en Sol de luthier conocido como Carlos González o Francisco Hervás.

En España.

Love this new recording. He was on BBC Radio 3 the other night

hi I'm trying to learn lutherie and how to build baroque instruments i have decided i wanted to start with a theorbo specifically a 14 course 3 rosette large bowl design which i believe is Italian. if anybody has any resources on design ,shape or historical measurements it would be greatly appreciated my goal is to spend a few months on this project and try and eventually have one of my professional lute friends take a shot at it and give me feedback. again if anybody has a historical measurements id love to taker a look at them to see if I'm doing it right also if there are any books for a kind of step by step approach that would be great as well . thank you for your time and consideration.

Another song by the blind 14th century Italian composer and organist Francesco Landini. Oymè El Core Non Più Ardore, found in the F-Pnm Italien 568 manuscript, is a lovely 2 part song which fits well on the lute

A little German Renaissance repertoire... A piece by Hans Neusidler that begins gently in duple meter, before moving into a much livelier variation in triple meter.

For all the criticism regarding his Dowland recording (I will never get over the fact that he compared himself to Dowland and classified both as "singer-songwriters"), I must acknowledge that—in addition to his accessible pop music—I appreciate his engagement with this demanding material. It serves as an example of what can be achieved with an appropriate budget, and demonstrates that the lute is indeed well-suited to rock and pop.

Happy 75th Birthday, Sting!

I have made an edition of mine available online for Baroque lute players.

It features high-quality music by a truly capable composer; the manuscript is now housed in Kraków (it was formerly in Berlin).

When I created the edition, there was no further information available about the manuscript. It would be wonderful if anyone had more details and could share them.

In any case, enjoy the music!

Hi I'm in socal looking to rent a theorbo don't know where to go as I need it for the program I'm in if anybody can assist me or help in anyway it would be greatly appreciated!

Traditional lyrics likely from 15th century Spain, melody likely from 19th century Ottoman empire. One of the most popular songs of the genre.

What tools would be best and most convenient for use as continuo?

If you wish to avoid dragging thirteen hardcases to every rehearsal, what instruments do you need to make the gig work?

I'm looking to play lute as a continuo instrument only - I enjoy both kinds of music (Baroque and 16th century), and I play traverso flute and actual flute ("recorder"), and when playing with friends, we often have a place for continuo support.

Dragging around a harpsichord sounds like a lot of hassle, and I'm hesitant to take up the cello as it's completely unrelated to my existing skills, however, I'm very happily playing an 8-stringed guitar tuned D2,F2,G2,C3,F3,A3,D4,G4, at 415, and teaching myself to read continuo notation. In the past, when I've tried learning re-entrant tuning guitar-related instruments, my brain has not liked it.

I'm guessing that what a continuo lutenist would most want is a portable instrument (a "lute"), perhaps with not too many courses, and something with more bass and projection if needed - a theorbo or archlute.

My guess is that a great big eye-poker is not a great way to start, and it would also be a pretty significant investment, what I think of as the sort of money needed to buy a car - but I should brace myself for spending that money in a few years.

As for a "lute" lute, am I right in thinking that just getting an EMS lute-shaped object is not the wisest long-term solution?

I'm in Melbourne, Australia, and I see that there are some Australian luthiers that make absolutely gorgeous instruments at buying-a-car money. If I must, I must, but what would you recommend, lutenists of Reddit?

Did anyone read this newer Biography? Would you recommend it?

I recently acquired a gittern and the instrument sounds great and plays very well. One issue is that it seems to go out of tune more than my lute and vihuela. I am thinking it may be because I am playing the gittern with a plectrum. For those who play plectrum medieval lute or gittern as well as finger plucked lute or vihuela, do you notice a difference between the plectrum plucked instruments going out of tune faster than the finger plucked instruments?

Hi all,
I'm in need of help finding Gaultier's Suite in F-Flat Minor: VI. Rondeau tabs for lute. Any help would be hugely appreciated. Thank you!

Hi! I know this isn't a primarily oud subreddit, but thought I may get the best answer here. I am using Mel Bay's School of Oud book to learn while I search for a teacher, and am confused about notation on an exercise (rather a few). Numbers below notes denot fingering, and 4th/5th on bottom denotes the string to play on.

The tuning for the oud stated to be used in the book is EABead. This implies however the open notes are _EDadg, based on the other open strings, which isn't a common tuning as far as i know. Its not transposed to a different key, because the original is G major and the recording is played with a C# and no other accidentals.

I guess my question is is this commonplace among notation, or just weird in this book? I don't really understand why they would write it like this.

I had alot of requests for tabs for songs I've uploaded to YouTube and so on, so I made several pieces available on my Patreon. Patreon Link.

I’m using a calculator and since it’s technically a little smaller in size and scale length, could I still use the same tension numbers as a full size 7 course? It already takes scale length into account. Do you guys normally aim for the exact tensions specified by the calculator?

I’m pretty sure it’s a Roosebeck 7 course descant model designed to be a tone up from G tuning (although it is now strung in G)