RETAIL THERAPY

As a general rule, luthiers tend to be better at making instruments than making friends. Violin maker Korinthia A. Klein gives some hints and tips on good customer relations – both for the people entering the workshop and for those running it

Saturday morning at Korinthian Violins in Milwaukee, WI, US

Luthiers, sadly, are not famous for their friendliness or tact when it comes to working with the public. The kind of personality that enjoys tedious work with hand tools and loves hours alone at a workbench is not generally the same type of person who likes engaging with lots of people.

I recently had the privilege of speaking at the Violin Society of America’s 2023 convention on a topic that doesn’t get the kind of attention it should: healthy customer relations in a violin shop.

In this article, I thought it might also be helpful to look from the other perspective and give the clients a guide on how to navigate a violin shop more effectively, since good customer relations really is a two-way street. Let’s start by talking about customers, since they outnumber luthiers by a large margin.

A typical violin shop deals with many kinds of customers, including professional musicians, music teachers, students, parents of students, non-musicians shopping on behalf of a player they know, and sometimes just people who want to come in and tell stories about how someone they love once played the cello. This is a wide range of people asking for a luthier’s time.

There are also many kinds of violin shops. Some are large, where the luthiers are essentially out of sight and don’t have to deal with the public directly. But many are small enough for you to wind up speaking face to face to the person who does the benchwork. In my shop I am alone (with some help from my husband or an occasional assistant), and nearly all the customer interaction is with me.

The first thing for visitors to know is that lutherie is not a ‘dying art’. I understand that the average person doesn’t know a lot of luthiers but, trust me, there are more violin makers alive today than there have ever been. I know hundreds. But not a month goes by without someone marvelling to me about my ‘dying art’ and wondering how I stay in business.

OUR ART ISN’T DYING. NOT EVEN CLOSE. SO BE RESPECTFUL OF A LUTHIER’S TIME

I think this is important to note because I get the impression from many people that they can’t imagine I’m busy. Most music teachers know better because they see first-hand how many players are out there with instruments needing repairs, and the average musician understands that as well. But I deal with about as many nonmusicians as I do players, and because this world is foreign to them, they don’t understand what my workload is like. Usually that engenders a sense of wonder when they look around my shop, but at other times, people behave as if I should simply be grateful for their business and expect what they need to be dealt with immediately. But our art isn’t dying. Not even close. So be respectful of a luthier’s time.

Korinthia A. Klein with customer Mark Fulton

ALL PHOTOS KORINTHIA A. KLEIN

Always assume luthiers are busy and they want to get back to work. That doesn’t mean you can’t ask questions if you are curious (please do, as we want you to learn), but if a luthier looks like they are trying to lead you to the door, maybe don’t launch into another story about grandma and her cello. We like those stories, we really do, but we don’t always have time for them on certain days. If we have time for you to elaborate, we’ll ask you to tell us more.

Keep in mind that we can get grumpy if we’re pulled away from the bench too often. The more time we spend talking to people, the less time we have to do our work. I’m sorry that many luthiers seem rude or impatient and I’m not excusing that behaviour, but please understand that it can be hard for people doing technical work to switch gears quickly into a mode that appears more friendly.

If a luthier works by appointment, please be on time or update them if something has changed. I have to make decisions about how to use my day, and there are some projects I can’t start if I know I am going to be interrupted. For instance, if I am rehairing a bow, I can’t do the step where I wet the hair unless I know I can continue to the next few steps in quick succession. If someone is half an hour late for an appointment without informing me, I can’t risk beginning that process, and that can greatly disrupt my workflow.

Remember that many luthiers tend to be more attuned to the technical aspects of their craft than the emotional reactions of their clients. We are used to seeing instruments in various levels of deconstruction, and may forget that seeing a beloved violin with its bridge down is distressing to a player. Rather than seeing it as insensitivity, you can view it as evidence that you can have confidence in a luthier who takes such situations in their stride.

Be willing to own up to mistakes. ‘It was like that when I opened the case’ is a phrase luthiers hear too often, and it doesn’t help anything. Embarrassment is understandable when instruments get damaged, but honesty is appreciated. Parents in particular can be over-protective of their children by denying certain behaviours, but in many instances we can see what damage was intentional and what was an accident. Bad behaviour needs to be owned up to and corrected, and accidents can happen to anyone.

Please do not bother luthiers at home, or argue about their hours. That should be obvious, but you would likely be shocked at how often I’ve dealt with customers who have overstepped certain boundaries. I once had a client call me at home very early on a Sunday morning needing to return a rental cello before they left town, and when I mentioned I’m not in the shop on Sundays, they said not to worry, they were outside my house! I had to scramble to get dressed and meet them at the door. I also had someone get very angry with me about why he couldn’t pick something up on a Sunday, and assuming (incorrectly) that I lived in the apartment above the shop, said, ‘How hard is it just to come downstairs?’ I do make a lot of accommodations for clients, and I’m happy to pick up and drop off bows from fellow players at rehearsals I’m attending and the like, but don’t encroach on a luthier’s personal space and time unless invited.

If the work a luthier does on your instrument leaves you unhappy, consider giving them the chance to make it right. We’re only human and we want you to love your instrument. Don’t be afraid to speak up. But as with any customer service, if a shop is not the right fit for you, find another.

Imay get in trouble for this one, but in many cases people should take the opinion of their teacher, in terms of repairs, with a grain of salt. Teachers are unfairly put in a position of being assumed to be an expert on instruments, not just on how to play them. I can say from personal experience as someone who majored in music and taught for years before doing repair work, that players and teachers know relatively little about how their instruments are constructed or function. And that’s fine! I drive but don’t pretend to know much about the mechanics of my car.

There is a lot of information passed down from teacher to student and from player to player that is well-meaning, but incomplete or inaccurate. Please trust when you are in a violin shop that the luthier knows more about what’s going on with your instrument than someone not trained in that work. It’s not being disloyal to a teacher to go with the advice of a luthier if it differs from the first suggestion you heard.

And lastly, I want to address the fact that the face of lutherie is, thankfully, changing. Not enough, but some. Which means if you expect to see an older white man behind the bench, and instead you find yourself face to face with a person of colour, or a woman, or a member of the LGBTQ+ community, please pay them the same respect you would to the luthier you were assuming you’d see.

IN MANY INSTANCES WE CAN SEE WHAT DAMAGE WAS INTENTIONAL AND WHAT WAS AN ACCIDENT

A number of happy customers at Korinthia A. Klein’s shop

Korinthia makes a small adjustment while customers play

The majority of people who come into my shop accept that I am the expert without issue. But I regularly meet customers who cannot quite get over that I am a woman doing this work, to the point where one man not long ago actually looked over my shoulder at my husband at his computer, and said, ‘So, how often do you have to bite your tongue not to interrupt her with your thoughts while she’s talking to customers?’ To which my husband responded instantly: ‘Never. She’s the luthier.’ I had just spent a long time going over three instruments with this man and he was trusting me to do a lot of work on them, so it was really disheartening to realise that, to him, I still didn’t quite make the cut because I was not what he had pictured.

Trust that the shop hired the staff they did for a reason. Don’t ask for ‘a man’ if the luthier trying to help you is a woman. Don’t assume a luthier who looks young knows less than one who looks older.

Don’t assume a person who is black, or gay, or anything you didn’t expect, is not the luthier. A whole up-and-coming crop of diverse lutherie students would appreciate it more than you know.

Oh, and always check if we returned your mute if we changed your strings. We unintentionally steal mutes all the time.

Korinthian Violins has been operating since 2008

ALL PHOTOS KORINTHIA A. KLEIN

Now I want to talk to the luthiers! Frankly, on the whole, we have earned our reputation for inadequate customer relations. The average customer assumes luthiers to be rude, and we should be embarrassed by that and willing to change.

I understand that the kind of person who enjoys tedious work with hand tools and loves hours alone at a workbench, is not generally the same kind of person who likes engaging with lots of people. I happen to be someone who enjoys both, so maybe I can suggest some better ways to approach customers which will benefit everyone in a violin shop.

Always remember that the average customer feels vulnerable when they step inside your door. You are the expert, and that’s intimidating. Some people will challenge you out of insecurity.

Some people are eager to be guided. Try to meet them where they are, in order to help them get what they need. I find if I remember to look at things from the point of view of the customer, and need to make them feel cared for and safe, that goes a long way in helping me choose my words.

Remember to be kind about their instrument, or at least check their amount of sentimental investment in it before speaking your mind. I ask a lot of questions before I share any opinions. You can speak more freely about a terrible instrument if they found it in an alley on the way to your shop, than if it was handed to them by their mother on her deathbed. You might think you are just making basic observations about a violin, but for many people it’s like you are criticising their child, so be nice.

Adjusting a violin peg

Managing people’s expectations at the outset helps avoid many problems. When I evaluate an instrument for repairs in front of someone, I note everything down and include a price range for certain repairs, explaining that some things are timed work. But I always caution customers that many instruments are like opening a can of worms, and I don’t know what I will find until I can take a closer look on my bench. If I come across something alarming, I will stop and contact them so we can reassess. This is important in case I missed something like a soundpost crack that I didn’t notice while I was distracted with talking, and not looking under the best light.

I also ask for a price cap, so if whatever additional things I find can be fixed while staying under that cap, I can have permission to go ahead and fix them without having to stop work until we discuss it.

Ask before you do any retouch if the customer is sentimental about any dings. Every once in a while there is something like scratches grandpa made on a rib in third grade, which mean more to a player than having the varnish look new again.

If something breaks on your watch, you need to make it right. Mistakes happen, and a sincere apology goes a long way. The average customer wants to treat you kindly as well, and they appreciate honesty. I once had a very nice frog simply crumble in my hands when I took out the slide, and I felt awful. I researched options before I called the client, since the frog restoration was outside of my comfort zone. I found someone willing to repair it and told the player I would foot the bill. He was perfectly happy with that solution. It was not my fault, but it happened on my bench, so I had to assume the responsibility. It’s frustrating when things like that happen, but imagine the shoe on the other foot and make decisions based on how you would want to be treated if you were in your customer’s place.

If you simply treat people respectfully, most interactions go fine. But what about when they don’t? Our first instinct is to get defensive or take it personally, which makes it about ourselves. Customers need it to be about them. The exception is public reviews. Then you need to make sure what you write is aimed at future customers, not necessarily the specific one with the grievance.

In all cases, you do yourself and your business the greatest service by stopping to figure out how any unpleasant interaction could have been avoided, and create a new policy designed with the prevention of that problem in mind. If someone is angry, you need to hear them out. Most people simply want to be heard.

The best piece of advice I can give for when someone is really upset is to focus on what you can learn from the encounter. If you can find a way to be grateful rather than offended, you’re on a better track than if you simply react.

MISTAKES HAPPEN, AND A SINCERE APOLOGY GOES A LONG WAY. THE AVERAGE CUSTOMER APPRECIATES HONESTY

Saying, ‘Thank you for pointing out this problem to me. I can’t fix what I don’t know about,’ helps frame things better for both parties and can lead to a real conversation about solutions, rather than staying stuck in an uncomfortable situation. Once people feel heard and appreciated, they can calm down and actually listen. When a tailgut fails, we may see it as a quick fix, and want to explain the technical details. But from the customer’s point of view, their violin exploded and it’s traumatic. That needs to be acknowledged before you can move on to anything else.

Outside Korinthia A. Klein’s shop in Milwaukee, WI, US

ALL PHOTOS KORINTHIA A. KLEIN

SHORT-TERM PROFITS CAN’T COMPARE TO THE LONG-TERM VALUE OF A CUSTOMER WHO FEELS TREATED WELL

Very few people have actually yelled at me in my shop, but part of that is because I learnt early what to do. It’s important to remember that when customers make mistakes they are often embarrassed, and different people deal with that by expressing everything from remorse to anger.

Early on I had an upsetting interaction with a woman who returned a rental viola that her daughter had scratched up pretty badly. I pointed it out (as I usually do, mostly to alert people to bad habits so they can correct them in the future) and she took it as a slight about her child, and possibly her parenting. She screamed at me that I’d sent the instrument out that way. I denied it, which was not what she wanted to hear. The whole thing was unpleasant, but this interaction resulted in our implementing a policy of photographing each renter with their instrument before they take it from the shop. The moment of acknowledgement on both sides that the instrument was in excellent condition when it was put into their care has made a big improvement in how those instruments get treated. I’ve also never had a repeat argument of ‘it was like that when you gave it to me.’ We all know I have proof it was not. No more arguments. And because something positive came out of that encounter, I can let it go and not stew over it.

Never say the first thing you’re thinking. And if someone writes to you in anger, never reply with the first email or text you write. Put down what you want to say, then leave it alone for a few minutes, delete it and try again. Again, don’t get defensive and don’t take it personally.

Earlier this year I got an angry email from a new renter. We had missed that the previous person to use the instrument had left a photocopy of their contract – including all their credit card information – in the outer pocket of the case. She was irate and wanted to cease all business with us. After deleting my first response, I thanked her for bringing this our attention, and said that we can’t fix what we don’t know about. I told her we would do whatever she wanted as soon as she wished, no argument. However, if she would consider letting me earn back her trust, I could assure her that such a thing had never happened before in 15 years of doing business.

She decided she’d overreacted, and wanted to keep the violin because her child really liked it. She also suggested we have people take a picture of the contract with their phones rather than make a copy, and that’s now what we do. The mistake helped create a better policy.

It’s worth the price of a free replacement string, or a new rosin, or a return without judgement, to keep people happy. Short-term profits can’t compare to the long-term value of a customer who feels treated well in your shop.

And finally, I always keep chocolate violins (right) on hand. Giving someone a chocolate violin goes a long way to brighten their outlook if, say, they had to make an extra trip to your shop because you accidentally stole their mute while changing their strings.