Tailpieces

For my old friend, Edgar… early tailpiece inlay

Aloha! and welcome to my humble ranting post , ‘Musical Musings’ by your host, Raven J. Ravary

Today I have decided to discuss some of the important factors that go into the planning and construction of an important component of any archtop instrument, the Tailpiece.The tailpiece is almost always the anchor of the strings, and the method of attachment to the heel block of the instrument. You can see their use throughout the string section of the orchestra, on the Bass, viola, the violin, on guitars, mandolins, and on a few ukuleles. Usually made of wood or metal, they live out a low profile, highly important life, caught between the strings and the endpin.

Unlike a traditional guitar, the archtop guitar does not anchor the strings to the bridge, but to the tailpiece. The strings push the bridge down onto the soundboard. Typically, an archtop’s bridge is not even glued down, string pressure and some breakover angle is all that is needed. The tailpiece itself is made of two basic parts; the uphill end being devoted to the attachment of the strings, and the lower unit, whose purpose is to hold back that string pressure and to anchor it solidly to the body. I think it was a fine invention when first used, probably several hundred years ago, and is still used today because it solves a very unique problem, and it does a great job doing it.

Metal Tailpiece by James , in Silver

Maybe the best, cleanest, most streamlined version of a tailpiece that I can think of , is the modern mandolin metal tailpiece; cast , not stamped… Those stamped models have their place, but not on the top shelf. Some of the best are so clean, neat and tidy; it is just amazing. Not a gram heavier than they need to be, and a simple attachment to the base with a few half inch screws, and Bam!, you have an excellent way to hold back 140 pounds of mandolin string pressure. The looped ends of the strings easily get set deeply into perfectly shaped metal lobes for quick and solid installation, and are then further covered by small rubber gaskets to eliminate unwanted vibration before the cover closes to show a glowing silver or gold faceplate, complete with engraving. Wow! And from a builder’s perspective, all I have to do is lay down a couple hundred dollars, choose a color and where to set the screws. Simply Splendid! Really, the solution could not be better.

When I make a tailpiece out of wood, it’s going to take a lot more time. And planning. That is because there is at least one part of that wonderful mandolin tailpiece that wouldn’t work for everyone… they come only in one width, and that is not necessarily the same width as the string spread on your custom ukulele. The mandolin setup is such that you file decent little string slots into the saddle to hold all of the strings in position, especially the outer ones, but the tailpiece is usually not as wide. It would be a Tailpiece maker’s nightmare to have several widths to manufacture. So they compromise at the best average, and leave the custom work to guys like me.

For me, I choose to have string spread decided by the tailpiece, not by string slots at the saddle. I had trouble with that a few times early on and if it costs me a half of a gram of weight to use a slightly wider blank to accommodate the string spread, I am all for it. On a floating bridge, I have found that deep slots and string pressure can move the bridge around a small amount, and that’s not a good thing. As a general observation, the width of the fretboard at the Neck/ Body Union ( 14th fret?) will be about the same as string spread at the saddle. So I have a good idea of the width needed before I begin manufacture. Always use a wider blank than what is needed, and thicker, and longer… this is how I do it.

I can thank experience for the steps I take when making a tailpiece. I have made a lot of them, and many times have I drawn out precise diagrams while I did so, , saving them for posterity, and writing several papers to myself to refresh my memory the next time that I had to make one. I generally begin at the base, because all those precise string holes mean nothing if you have no anchor to set them against. It starts with an endpin. Either a wooden endpin like you see on violin family bodies, or an endpin jack, as you would find on most of my electric, amplified capable creations. And it has to be on the centerline of the instrument… great care goes into the choice of location for the endpin. Next consideration is the cable that is the true interface between the two, and they are made in a few sizes. I use the 6 and 7/8th inch model on most of my Tenors, Baritones, and Octave mandolins, a larger one for my guitars, and a teeny little violin cable made of nylon for my Concert ukes. The cable is made up of several strands of steel wire and coated with a plastic sleeve. Each model is severely limited by it’s length. As you wrap it around your endpin and twist it firmly over the heel block and into it’s planned position, it is quickly obvious that the tough part has just begun.

Fortunately for me, it is familiar territory. I mark Centerline all different ways on my blank (too big, wide, and long) and plan on those cables coming in from the base about halfway in the middle of the blank, spread about a half inch wide, same as the endpin. They will enter just below the equator, back from the end, leaving the upper portion of the blank carvable (later) with some wood about 3/4 inch long extending to the rear when done. This will be the lowest point on the finished instrument, extending past the soundboard, and is decorative; my personal way of doing things. I choose a good drill size, hold the blank in a vise, and freehand drill the first cable hole, about 1/4 in. plus to one side of center, as deep as I think the cable needs to penetrate… plus that 3/4 that I plan to remove next. When drilled, I stick a dowel into that hole to help me line up the other and freehand drill that one also, being careful to keep them about a half inch apart. I then remove that bottom 3/4, all the way to the cable hole top. I now have a visual line delineating the base from the top (it will become the equator as we progress…). The base is for strength, the top is for pretty. The base will do the work, the top has to only be smooth and rounded… it might as well be pretty.

A Plumeria flower made of Cocobolo hides the working parts underneath; this particular base is minimal

The height of that base, at that place, sets your Breakover angle. Breakover angle is that which the strings endure as they change direction at the saddle, heading to the tailpiece. That angle cannot be more important. It is the cornerstone of the instrument’s geometry. Outside of Action! and playability, it is likely the single most critical factor determining power, projection, tone, and a variety of other factors. It can be controlled, however, and the height of that base between the extremes, from minimal to max, is the way to get it done. Too much angle, and the soundboard could be overpowered in time. Too little, and the instrument never develops to it’s potential… it’s running on three cylinders. The geometry between that base height, the bridge height, the Action!, the neck angle cut, and the strings all come together here. It has to be very well thought out and not every combination is a winner. That brings us back to that wonderful, modern mando tailpiece. It has no height adjustment. It is set. You have to get the other parameters correct on a mandolin. No last second angle changes like you get with wood. If I minimize the height of the base, my breakover angle is steeper. I could also make the base rise a whole inch off of the deck, decreasing breakover.

Those cables have threaded ends that accept little brass nuts, and you have to guess where your cable nut terminating wall will be; where the nuts will stop against a wall, with a few threads showing. It’s easy to make the wall too close to the cable exit holes you made first, and that runs the cable nuts well onto the cable, sometimes too long. It can be challenging to guess where to start carving the underside of the blank for the recess that houses the cable nuts but at some point you grab the Dremel tool with the 1/4 inch barrel and dig in, creating a recess, and the wall, at the same time. Then you go through a dry run and install the cable around the endpin and into the exit holes to see if the cable nuts tighten down correctly, inside the recess. Not likely! The recess is never big enough, or deep enough, or the wall is not flat or straight, or vertical enough. But whatever you do… don’t make it wider than it needs to be. Keep that recess to a minimum.

The recess also is now home to the string mounts, as you pivot from thinking about the cables to thinking about the strings. The strings can be terminated here in a variety of ways. The simplest is to be tied at the opposite wall to the cable nuts, coming through the wall from the front side. A figure eight knot… a fisherman’s… but knots tend to break more easily than what I call wraps. For me, a wrap is similar to a classical guitar bridge tie off. It takes a bit of thought to prepare a smooth flowing area for the strings to wrap around, but I have not broken a string since I began to make them this way. Sometimes, the recess has an open lid, and you can change the strings more easily, on others I choose to make the visible parts more carvable, so the downside could be that it can be hard to access the strings when there is full tension.

Her nickname was ‘Lightning’

Just like at the rear portion of the tailpiece, where I left some wood to carve, and to hide the cable entry, I like to do the same above the strings at the upper and front portion. And for the same reason. Also, when I make a ledge there for drilling, it helps keep things square and the measurements for string spacing is more straightforward. You have to remember to keep your centerlines fresh each time you want to remove some mass, up until the string hole placement gets decided and the drilling done, then it’s time to be creative on the visible top. Below deck gets pruned back to a minimum… all you need are a sturdy wall at the right place for the cable nuts, a base that contacts the corner of the heel block at a good angle to the bridge, and the strings coming into the top. Any excess can be removed.

The top of the tailpiece is a place to make a statement. There are hundreds of ways to decorate it. From inlay to marquetry to fine woodworking, it is great opportunity to add form to function. It is important to keep it smooth and rounded; the player’s wrist will go over it thousands of times each session. From the tops of the strings and cables, everything above is fair game. I usually carve an equator into the center section… the lower hemisphere is smaller, the upper is much larger. From start to finish, it can take several hours to make a good tailpiece. And then you add the inlay and the finish sanding. With practice they can be made very compact, and very beautiful. From pre- made metal to more traditional wood and a cable, the basics of tailpieces are the same; the joy is in the design and construction. There are few limitations to the imagination.

I hope you enjoyed my ramblings from a luthier’s perspective on the many facets of the humble tailpiece. And can appreciate that what looks plain and ordinary actually takes a lot of planning and careful execution to attain. Maybe you will find yourself needing a tailpiece custom made some day, and you will be ready to step right up and give it a try… just make sure to use a very good blank worthy of the effort. I remember making a very intricate and absolutely beautiful Tenor ukulele tailpiece out of a softer wood. Once. Aloha, and Best Wishes, Raven J. Ravary