Story by Hannah Doyle

Photos by Cathriona Smith
Caroline was made with a purpose. Her beauty unparalleled, one look at her would leave no doubt to anyone that a true craftsman was behind her perfect features. Her world has come together in Eugene, Oregon, but her refined look and demeanor show that she is destined for bigger things. Caroline has sailed away to Ireland to fulfill the role she was made for: as Seth Kimmel’s latest upright bass. With as much time and effort he puts into each instrument, it’s only right that each receive a name.
Kimmel is a Eugene-based luthier, or string instrument maker. Kimmel builds only upright basses, an intricate and highly detailed instrument with an origin dating back to the late 15th or early 16th century. Kimmel sold his last bass in 2010 in Los Angeles for $18,000. While this price point may sound high for an instrument, upright basses can cost up to $500,000. Of such an investment, Kimmel says, “If you’re making a purchase like that you’re either a really serious [musician] . . . or you’ve fallen in love with the thing.”
Kimmel hasn’t always worked with instruments. He previously owned and operated his own construction company, working primarily on home construction and renovations. However, as an environ­mentally conscious person, Kimmel was put off by the industry’s waste-heavy practices. In construction, young trees were often cut too soon and used for only aesthetic pur­poses. “Even projects that were approached to be really green, [with] the budgetary constraints, [they] turned out to be very conventional projects.” Construction became tiresome, leading Kimmel to pursue a new path.
Kimmel and his wife Laura took a year off of work to travel and experiment with new hobbies. Kimmel wanted to learn how to play Laura’s banjo, so he put together a “canjo,” a one-stringed handle with a can attached to the end. What began as a play­ful invention sparked a continuing interest that led to his current business. In 2006, he took on the challenge of making an upright bass, an instrument he had played for three years. After researching the bass industry, he discovered that there were less than twenty bass makers in the nation. Within the narrow market, an average upright bass sells for $20,000. Seeing these figures as an opportunity, Kimmel decided there was room for him in the business and is now fully dedicated to the craft.
Kimmel spends up to $2,200 on wood for one bass. Before beginning to take on such a project, materials must be acquired, which can be the hardest part. The wood used must be cut a certain way to work for the construction of instruments. “The only pieces that work are where the grain grows across the board,” he explains. Wood for a bass is typically from the trunk of a tree, which is cut into disks. Most wood mill­ing companies cut the trees a certain way to yield different types of grain. “It’s really amazing how you can get a giant tree and there’s no basses in there,” Kimmel says with a grin, “Ideally you mill for musical instru­ments, which means you cut it up like a pie … that creates these wedge shaped pieces that are really cool for basses.”
This form is not only important for durability in structure, but also for richness and depth in tone. Being a builder first and luthier second has proved to benefit his new endeavors. Kimmel knows where to look for wood because he has friends from his construction days in the mill industry, specifically Seth Filippo of Urban Lumber in Springfield, right next to Eugene. The two have worked together recently to mill wood compatible for building instruments.
Not only is wood hard to find, but, as Kimmel explains, it’s tricky to work with: “Wood has its own nature and it will grow.” After being carved, wood is no longer sup­ported and is prone to grow in different directions, which can injure the bass-making process. Kimmel has to gauge for this growth by cutting more than needed for each piece of the bass until he attaches the pieces together. Once the pieces are dried and adequately prepared, Kimmel quickly glues them together to support each other. When working with a fragile and unpre­dictable material like wood, “You have to accept mistakes,” he says, “If you’re afraid to cut because it’s going to screw something up, you can’t get anything done.” However, constructing the basses is not the trickiest part of the project.
Kimmel sets his own prices and he has learned some valuable pricing approaches in the last few months: “Instruments are made more valuable by who is making them and who is selling them.” At first he was pricing his basses for $12,000, but he found that customers were misinterpreting the relatively low prices as a reflection of the quality of his basses. He now considers this when pricing each bass. Customers no longer assumed the quality of the basses was inferior and started seeing them as economi­cal. “The jump from $12,000 to $15,000 made my basses [go from] cheap to afford­able.” Kimmel explains that his new fee speaks to the value of the instruments for his customers, “They’re getting a very good bass for a pretty competitive price.” His pricing method is attracting buyers and pay­ing off; he sold eight basses in 2010, which is two more than his annual goal.
Since Kimmel began working as a luthier, he has earned awards for tone from the Violin Society of America and the Interna­tional Society of Bassists. Kimmel’s custom­ers now come from across the nation and around the globe. Caroline is destined for Galway, a large city in the western region of Ireland known as the country’s “cultural heart” because of the number and variety of cultural, art, and music festivals it hosts each year. Kimmel also sells through well-known dealers in major cities like New York, Los Angeles, and Seattle.
Kimmel’s shipping and packing expenses are yet another difficult and expensive part of the bass-making process. Shipping a bass from Eugene to New York runs between $500 and $600 and shipping to Ireland costs $1,500. Kimmel has to research weather conditions at the time of shipment to ensure the bass won’t go through extreme conditions and changes in climate, which cause wood to expand or shrink, prompting breakage. One way Kimmel adjusts for this is his use of a low-intensity adhesive when assembling each bass; rather than crack­ing or breaking, the basses typically come unglued along the seams. Even still, Kimmel has had his fair share of bass-breaking horror stories, but he has customer service down pat in dealing with such issues. “You need to deal with it and communicate with people immediately,” he explains. Since much of his business is hinged on word of mouth, for Kimmel, customer satisfaction cannot be over-emphasized.
It isn’t all work and no play for Kimmel. Although committing the bulk of his days to a precise and isolating craft, he spends his spare time playing Betty, a blonde-wood upright bass that he made in September of 2007. Kimmel often plays with his wife and friends, as well as a number of bands in the Eugene area, currently pledging his al­legiance to The Whiskey Chasers. The genre he plays is old-time music, “We play at the old haunts like Territorial, Sam Bond’s, Axe and Fiddle, Lucky’s, and The Granary.” Kim­mel and his band also play at local events and parties. He also has plans underway for another band, The Dirty Spoon, which would mix old-time and house music.
Not everyone can be his or her own boss and still be able to have fun hobbies on the side. “The support from my wife and the community is amazing,” Kimmel says. Being involved with a specialized craft has the added benefit of introducing him to a tight-knit society. “There’s a lot to be said for the bass community, the makers are incredibly open with information.” Sometimes they buy gears collectively in bulk for a cheaper purchase. They also swap ideas on the particular craft. Kimmel recalls a time when Daniel Hachez, a nationally-recognized bass maker, advised him to drop the fingerboard two millimeters, “I’ve done it ever since and it makes my basses so much more play­able—a totally esoteric piece of detail.”
Kimmel wouldn’t have pursued a life as a luthier if it wasn’t for his upbring­ing, which fostered his love for building and instruments. Growing up, he admired close family friends who made instruments, although none of them were able to be full-time luthiers for financial reasons. Kimmel sees what he’s doing as continuing a legacy that family and friends began when he was young. “I’ve brought their dreams to fruition by doing this,” he says. Kimmel views his situation as fortunate; he now has the means to support his family by doing what he loves. “It’s really fulfilling to play music and bring that into my life and [have] it be part of my career.”

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The Art Behind the Music