[photography] Europe 2009 - Monday 20 April

Several years ago I found a small listing in a travel magazine about a German family whose home is also a workshop for making bows for stringed instruments like violins and cellos. I recognized the location of the workshop as a small village very near where my German friends live. I cut out the article and saved it in my “one day I’ll go here” box, a wooden secretary I keep on my dresser. This year I found the listing and resolved finally to visit.

The family’s name is Grünke and they live near Bubenreuth. Any fears I had that the workshop no longer existed were dispelled when I found their web site at www. gruenke-bows.de. In only German it tells the story of the father, who began learning how to make bows around 1945 after the war. He has been perfecting his craft ever since. He’s also brought his two sons into the act, so the three of them work together.

I brought a printout of the web site to my German friend Hilde and asked if we might be able to visit so I could take some pictures. She gave them a call for me, bless her! I’m not sure I could have pulled off the phone call in German. She spoke to one of the sons at length and I could hear her explain that “the American friend” was just curious and that I didn’t want anything at all from them except photos for myself. There seemed to be a little suspicion about my motivation. Hilde finally came back to tell me that we had an appointment on Monday, April 20 between 3 and 5 p.m.

They apparently are very busy. I’m always encouraged when an art-related business is doing well. In fact, several local Florida artists I know are doing quite well despite the economic downturn we’ve heard so much about. It makes me wonder how bad it could possibly be when artists are thriving!

The day to visit the bowmaker arrived and we set out with my directions from the Internet and spoken ones from the son on the phone. It was about a 30-minute drive and I will be forever grateful for my friends to have taken me there.

It seems the family had recently moved into a new location, though it was in the same village. We drove through the beautiful German countryside on mostly rural roads til we came to the village. We had only a slight delay when we lost our way but stopped to ask directions and were back on track immediately.

We pulled up outside a brand-spanking new home in a new housing development on the outskirts of the village. Except for the steep pitch of the roof and the difference in landscape flora, it could have been a new development in Florida.

Hilde and I rang the bell and were greeted by a young man about 30 who turned out to be the son she’d spoken to on the phone. He was wearing a long leather apron and ushered us into a back room where the workshop was located.

I almost gasped when I saw that their workbenches were situated right at each of the windows, giving me the perfect lighting I’d dreamed of for these photos! I was introduced to the father who looked to be about 60 but had to be much older than that, given his history. He was very self-conscious and totally mystified as to why I wanted to take his picture. He was a delight to speak with, though, and I thanked heaven that I could speak German with him. It really put him at ease and we had a great time as I got the shot I wanted:


Herr Grünke

I took a couple dozen photos, mostly digital, but some black-and-white film ones that I can’t wait to see!

Herr Grünke told me that the bows are made from a reddish wood called pernambuco which only grows in South America and which is in danger of disappearing altogether, what with the deforestation going on in Brazil. In fact, he has begun a program, in conjunction with some other organizations and individuals, to ensure that pernambuco is propagated and protected for the industry. It’s called the International Pernambuco Conservation Initiative, or IPCI.

I took pictures of stacks and stacks of bows in their rough-hewn form before the work begins and all along their journey to becoming finished instruments. The process of making them begins with applying fire to the wood from a small Bunsen burner and also includes much sanding. Herr Grünke’s workbench had a vacuum mechanism to take the dust out of the air so that their lungs wouldn’t suffer.


Bundles of unfinished pernambuco bows

The next workstation was where the bowstrings were added. “Strings” is a misnomer because the bow is actually made from horsetail hair. The second son was adding the hairs when we were there. The son that met us at the door was at a third workbench putting the finishing touches on the bows.


One son adds the horsehair


The other son finishes the bows

As I was shooting pictures and talking to the father, I overheard the sons asking Hilde over and over again why I wanted to photograph them. She explained that I love Europe and am also into everything from cooking to photography to winemaking to Osterbrunnen. They finally seemed more or less satisfied with that. What I originally took for suspicion, though, I realized was actually true wonderment that anyone would want to come and see what they do. And they were clueless as to how the original listing had appeared in the travel magazine.

I could have stayed another couple of hours but we left after about 40 minutes or so. They truly were that busy; they had bundles upon bundles of bows in a raw state ready to be made into shiny, polished music-makers.

Before I left I asked for an email address to send some pictures to. In addition to that, I also received a small booklet about the pernambuco preservation program. You can find information about that at www.ipci-usa.org.

My friend Kurt Lee's moral of this story:
This family can be applauded for their wonderful craftsmanship! They may take a "bow"…

Stay tuned for adventures in the Czech Republic!

Karren Doll Tolliver
Photography web site:
www.komnatachista.com
Online shop:
www.komnatachista.etsy.com
Facebook ID: Karren D. Tolliver
Twitter ID: KomnataChista

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