Berlin’s Oberlin

Ian McWilliams explains how he set up a summer violin making workshop near the German capital, in the hope that other luthiers might be inspired to do the same

Lutherie

The assembled luthiers have an in tense discussion xxx on bass-bar measurements, density and placement

In 2020, during the first of the many Covid-19 lockdowns, a plan began to form in my head. For a long time I had thought there should be an event for violin makers in Europe to compare with the intensive two-week Oberlin Summer Workshops in the US. Taking place every June, the workshop brings 60 makers from all over the world to Oberlin, Ohio, to share ideas and work on various projects. Would it be possible to create something similar over here?

Lying 50 miles west of Berlin, the historic city of Brandenburg an der Havel was once the centre and most important city in the region until the Reformation, though it now has only 70,000 inhabitants. I give you this brief history because it helps explain why the town is lucky enough to have so many beautiful churches. A few have been renovated as exhibition spaces and conference venues, which was one reason why I thought this would be an ideal location for a violin and bow making workshop. Brandenburg is small, with not too many distractions, but large enough to have everything we need – even some (very important) freshly brewed coffee. Because of its proximity to Berlin, we benefit from all the transport links there. After a few early consultations with colleagues I could see there was enough interest to test this European social experiment.

WITH LARGER GROUPS THERE’S ALWAYS NEW INFORMATION COMING IN EACH YEAR

We were in lockdown when I started the planning, only allowed out to buy food while vaccines seemed like a far-off dream. I originally planned for 18 participants assuming we would all need a two-metre space around us for social distancing, given the pandemic rules at the time.

My first choice of venue was a 14th-century merchant’s house, which turned out to be too small once we had factored in the workbenches and social distancing. The city council, which had quickly come on board with the project, suggested St Johannis Kirche (St John’s Church) which turned out to be much better in the long term – even though when I first saw it a decade ago, it had a tin roof, no windows and no back wall. This was down to the area around the church having been bombed by the Allies towards the end of World War II. Since then, the church has undergone a renovation with federal funding, part of the conditions being that the space be available, free of charge, for pop-up art exhibitions, workshops and cultural events.

Now a cultural centre, the town’s St Johannis Kirche made a perfect venue

ALL PHOTOS IAN MCWILLIAMS

We were also given access to a small conference centre just a five-minute walk from the church, with a large kitchen, seating/eating area, courtyard and rooms that sleep up to 35. We were lucky that the city proved so supportive right from the start, contributing a lot of positive ideas and feedback. Part of our arrangement with the city is that our project has to benefit the citizens of Brandenburg. This is why towards the end of the week we have an open workshop for the public to come and see what’s happening on their doorstep, and the event ends with a brilliant concert in the evening for all comers.

Isent an email to around 70 violin makers in February 2021, hoping we’d get 18 people together. After four hours there was such a positive response I expanded it to 24. I decided to make it first come first serve, but this creates its own problems and may need to change in the future. There is an amazing community of like-minded violin makers in the Berlin area, who came to Brandenburg at different times in the spring and summer of 2021 to build all the workbenches, which can all be flat-packed and stored from year to year.

Lasting seven days, the first year’s event was an inspirational experience for all of us. As with the Oberlin workshops, I invited participants to give presentations on whatever they’d been working on recently. So we had lectures involving the history of Dutch violin making, using LED lighting to tan wood and dry varnish, and on building sound absorbers into the area of your workshop where people try out instruments. We also had demonstrations on using an old clamping system (using metal blocks called ‘dogs’) to glue the fronts and backs together, and how to fit whalebone for Dutch purfling. We also arranged blind sound tests with both violins and violas.

One key part of the project, inherited from Oberlin, was that food was prepared by different members each night. We set up teams of four or five on the first evening, with everyone finding a way to help out. This always seems to turn into a bit of a competition, the result being some amazing meals for us all! The dynamic of a larger group of people creates a unique atmosphere for sharing ideas even while cooking. With larger groups there’s always new information coming into the group each year, though it only works if everyone comes to the workshop with the idea of sharing. Some of the evenings saw people at the bench working past midnight, while some retired slightly earlier to play music together.

On the last morning of the first year we had a group discussion which was pleasantly positive. It was decided we’d build another 8 workbenches to have 32 participants next time: 28 violin makers and 4 bow makers. I thought that the first year lacked the input of bow makers, such a key part of our profession. There was also a lot of interest in making it longer, so we extended it to 8 days. Finally, after the workshop was over, we decided that if we wanted to do it again we’d have to create a registered charity (Verein in German) so that we could write invoices and have our own bank account. The next eight months saw a lot of emailing and Zooming, culminating in the Verein having a board of directors (Simon Eberl, Andreas Hampel and myself ) and an overall schedule: the Workshop is planned to run every year, for eight days at the end of August, for professional makers. I hope our experience might also encourage other makers to think about setting up similar events in their own areas: with such a committed, dedicated group of people, perhaps we might have a network of summer workshops across the world in just a few years’ time!