Strings
Attached
“You’re one in a
million” is a catchy song title and also a tired pick-up line. But
Gilles de
Nčve is literally that, or to be more precise, one in five
million. Sonja Fransisca meets the guitar maker in
Bandung.
Gilles de Nčve is a
luthier, one who masters the ins and outs of stringed
instruments. At most there are only 50 people with such skills in
Indonesia,
where street musicians at every junction strum to entertain the
masses and Rhoma Irama, one of the biggest stars of the 1980s, was
known as Satria Bergitar (the guitar-playing knight).
It started as a
necessity fueled by the allure of the Beatles and Rolling Stones and
his love of working with wood. It was difficult for left-handed de
Nčve to find a guitar, especially in 1969. He went to Oen Peng Hok,
a guitar-maker in the Kopo neighborhood. Back then the instrument
cost Rp 12,000 and took a month to make.
De Nčve, then 14,
came every day to watch his first guitar take shape. Eleven years
later Hok would supervise him in making his first electric guitar.
It was the start of
something.
His friends started
to ask him to fix their guitars and he set up a small workshop at
his home in downtime from his job as an architect after graduating
from the Bandung Institute of Technology.
“What’s great about
Gilles is that he never stops learning,” says Aria Baron Suprayogi,
more famously known simply as Baron, the name adopted by his band.
The former guitarist of the ‘90s hit maker Gigi gets his guitars
fixed at de Nčve’s Asian Guitar Lab.
“He’s responsible
with his work. If it’s not right, he’ll fix it again.”
Born of a Dutch mom
and a French father residing in Indonesia, his proficiency in Dutch
and English helped him learn from books in those languages the
techniques and mechanics of stringed instruments. ‘
“This is my
playground. I get to play guitar all the time,” de Nčve, 52, says in
his living room in the West Java capital. Guitars of various shapes
hang on the wall and a stream of customers comes in for advice. Next
door is the workshop, where six workers measure, saw, smoothen and
spray-paint the instruments.
It was a giant step
for de Nčve when he left his architecture practice to focus on his
guitar workshop in 2000. “It’s challenging. It’s an adrenaline
rush,” he says.
Repair and
maintenance, with clients including Dewa bassist Yuke and Peter Pan
guitarist Uki, are still the bulk of his business. Custom orders and
modifications account for only a third of the work, although de Nčve
would like it to be more.
Musicians ask for
custom-made guitars for two reasons: either to experiment with new
sounds or to design their own version of a perfect guitar for the
perfect occasion. “It’s like finding the right dress to go to
parties for women,” he says.
That would
translate into quite an expensive dress. As most spare parts still
have to be imported, a high-quality guitar costs Rp 10 million
(about US$1,000) and takes at least a month to make. A low or
mid-quality guitar doesn’t exist.
De Nčve is not
averse to experimentation. He has 14 guitars, 11 of which are his
own creations. Now he is looking to reinvent himself in playing the
electric guitar, his starting point in developing the instruments.
For three years he has stopped listening to his personal heroes,
including Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page and Hank Marvin of The Shadows.
He’s looking to
make a recording that’s uniquely his own, his take on what music
should be.
“You should never
be afraid to try. Curiosity has to be provided for,” he says. And so
the artisan keeps finding himself in every piece that he creates.
