Carving a ‘Hill-style’ saddle

Care and accuracy are needed to make a two-piece ebony saddle – in this case for cello

Makers reveal their special techniques

Ona stringed instrument, the saddle is the wood at the base of the spruce top that protects the spruce from the downward pressure of the tailgut. On classic Baroque instruments, saddles were sometimes not inset as far as they are today, on a modern set-up – in fact, the mortises often didn’t even cut through the purfling. That doesn’t leave much gluing surface to hold the saddle in place. Baroque saddles were therefore often made from one piece of wood, glued over or mortised into the lower rib.

When the Hill shop in London replaced these original saddles on many classic instruments, they did it with two pieces: one that was a modern saddle mortised into the top, and another that was glued on to the lower rib. The use of two pieces makes the saddle easier to fit and, also facilitates removal of the top. In this article I describe how I carve and fit my Hill saddles, and I have a few tricks that can apply to carving regular saddles as well.

I love making Hill-style saddles on my instruments. It’s a neat way to dress up an area of the body that doesn’t usually get a lot of attention, and they are fun to carve.

Finding the centre of the spruce top 2a 2b

1 I start by making the mortise in the top for the upper portion of the saddle. I find the centre and lay out the mortise around that point. The exact size of the mortise is not crucial, but you don’t want it to be too large on a new instrument. For my cellos, I make them 10mm deep by 56mm wide, while for violins I make the mortise 35mm wide and take the depth to the inside edge of the purfling.

A jig for the saddle

Using the jig

2 One of my favourite saddle tools is this jig I made. It has cork on the bottom and a square cutout the size of my saddles. The square sides of the jig support my chisel and keep the sides of the mortise flat and square. It makes it very easy to get a perfectly sized mortise efficiently. I think sometimes violin makers can get enamoured with doing things freehand because we are skilled enough to do it that way, but sometimes the right jig just makes everything easier.

3a Planing the ebony

3b A white pencil is used to mark the ebony

3 I prepare a rectangular block of ebony that is the height of my finished saddle and 0.25mm narrower than my mortise. The gaps at the ends prevent saddle cracks later on. These gaps are small enough not to be noticeable, and will eventually be filled in with patina. I mark the piece to match the overhang of the top plate and shape the ebony flush to the outline with a sander (3a).

Using a white pencil, I mark the height of the channel and edge, the width of the central plateau, and one-third of the way back from the leading edge of the saddle (3b). I prefer a somewhat narrow plateau, but you can leave it wider. It just has to be wide enough to accommodate the tailgut.

4a Carving the curves round the plateau

4b How the saddle looks so far

4 I plane the front bevel down to my line, and carve down the curves on either side of the plateau with a knife (4a). The bevel gives me an idea of when to stop on the inner line, and I check frequently to make sure the ebony doesn’t get shorter than the edge. I need to bring it right to the same level as the top without going under.

Then I roughly shape the curved back of the saddle, remembering to leave the lower edge sharp at this point to fit to the lower piece (4b).

5a Making the second half of the saddle

5b

ALL PHOTOS MICHAEL DORAN

5 Next, I pick a matching piece of ebony and make the lower curved piece. I find that the lower part looks best when it’s just a little shorter than the top saddle because it ends up looking slightly taller once it’s in place.

I mark out a nice parabolic curve that is flattish on the sides and round in the middle. I have a little template that’s about the right shape. I like to leave it much thicker than the final thickness, so I have something to hold on to during the fitting process.

6a The varnish is removed

6b Adding chalk to the wood

6c Using the spindle sander

6 I put the lower piece in place on the cello and scribe a line in the varnish around it. The varnish has to be removed under where the saddle will be or the glue won’t stick (6a).

I like to chalk-fit the lower piece to the rib with a spindle sander (6b&c). It keeps everything square and goes pretty quickly. Sometimes I’ll finish the fitting with a scraper or small file.

Checking the gap

7 Once rib, I check the seam between the upper and lower piece. If both pieces are planed flat, it will essentially be invisible. Then I trim the lower piece closer to size and glue both pieces in place with thin hide glue. I put a feeler gauge in, next to the uppe the lower piece is fitting nicely to the piece, to check if the gap is even on both sides.

8a Using an incannel gouge

8b Shaping with a file

8 When saddle. I like to use a small incannel gouge to take away some of the extra wood on the lower piece (8a). I want a curved shape on the lower piece the glue is dry, I finish shaping the with a sweep at the end. I finish with files (8b). The hardest part is not hitting the varnished edge, and there’s inevitably a little touch-up needed.

An organic, flowing shape

9 There are many styles of saddles. I like mine to have a n underlying organic, flowing shape with rounded edges. The only flat plane is the leading bevel, and even there I round the corner so it’s not too sharp. It’s a delicate balance – if you round everything too much, it can lose its shape.

10a Finishing with French polish

The finished saddle

10 Once the shape is finished, I sand and polish everything through the grits down to 1000 gri t sandpaper. I like to finish with some rubbed-in linseed oil, a dollop of French polish (10a), and a little wax paste to fill any open pores and give a bit of shine to the ebony.