
In the winter of 89/90, I spent about three months in the town of Paracho, Mexico. Located in the mountains of the state of Michoacan--about a six hour bus ride west of Mexico City--Paracho may be the only place in the world where a whole town's economy is based on building guitars. Looking down main street, one sees guitar store after guitar store, and countless luthiers work in independent shops as well as in a couple of larger factories. While it is true that a lot of the instruments made in Paracho are of relatively low quality (but they're also ridiculously cheap...), there is an emerging knowledge of the professional-level guitars that are also being built. Marc Silber, the Berkeley Instrument Exchange (Montalvo), and Kenny Hill are among a few of the folks who are importing some of these instruments into the US and are helping these instruments gain acceptance with players.
I was in Paracho as part of my undergraduate studies at World College West. I lived and worked with a luthier named Salvador Caro Zalapa, and during this time we built a flamenca negra guitar together. I also helped Salvador with some other guitars that he was building during this period, primarily inexpensive student guitars that he builds in batches of six. The guitar turned out to be my main instrument for several years, and I used it for the live recording of "Freight & Salvage Improv" on my album "On My Way."
The most fascinating aspect of how most luthiers in Paracho work is their lack of tools and their complete sense of following their instincts. Salvador's main tool is his "Cuchillo," a large knife that he uses for just about any step of the building process that involves cutting or carving. While he has a primitive (actually quite a scary rig of electrical wires hooked up to a metal pipe...) side bending iron, he doesn't use molds, and barely touches his templates during this process. I don't think we ever measured anything. Crucial things like bridge placement are done using a number of strings with knots indicating a certain length in them. Some steps of the way we didn't do in Salvador's shop. Since he doesn't own any power tools, we sent the guitar out to another shop that specializes in such things for having the body routed for the binding and to cut the slots into the headstock. Salvador also doesn't finish his guitars, and sends them to a shop with a spray booth instead.
Although the top of the guitar looks like cedar due to its stain, it is actually made from Canadian spruce. The back and sides are highly figured "Palo Escrito," also known as Mexican Rosewood. The fingerboard and bridge are Brazilian Rosewood, and the neck is some kind of cedar. Good tuning machines are scarce in Mexico, so I installed Schallers soon after returning to the US. The guitar has also been through several pickups, and now wears a few battle scars. Since I realized how sentimentally attached to the thing I am, I have sort of retired it since going back to Paracho a couple of years ago and buying a Juan Huipe Flamenco. The Huipe has turned out to be a great gig guitar, and I don't worry about something happening to it.
The following pictures will walk you through the basic building process. I don't have every exact step of the way documented, but they should give an idea of how things are done in Paracho. If you have any questions about Paracho, please e-mail me, and I'd love to share whatever information I have.