Sitting in the Ramirez ’showroom’ in 1967, scrutinizing the new guitar I had just bought, I asked the Jefe what sort of spruce the top was. I could see the sides were Brazilian rosewood and the fingerboard was ebony and the neck he had said was cedar, which astonished me but it was Cedro de Cuba, not the Canadian kind. He looked at it and summoned one of the guys from the benches in back who glanced at it and said it was North African Juniper. Silence, then gales of laughter ensued. Probably, if there were such a thing as North African Juniper, it would have taken a lot of splicing to come up with one guitar top.

A head popped through a doorway and counted heads. As we finish the payments and such, a big tray of food came through from the back of the restaurant next door and was plunked on the table in the ’showroom’. Since I’d made the error of arriving in the morning when the work was done rather than in the evening when they were open for business, I was there and thus to be fed. As lunch wound down, a beat up guitar came down from the wall and songs were sung and tables tapped on and I realized it would soon be my turn. Earlier I’d played some basic classical stuff testing guitars but that seemed out of place so I played something like the Girl From Ipanema. They were underwhelmed and muttered something about ‘Portuguesa’ and someone said ‘toca algo de la musica de su pais.’ Not having any Canadian canoeing songs in my repertoire I played some Doc Watson style ragtime thing and their eyes were glued to the guitar. Play another; another. I realized that Chet Atkins was as far from their playing as Sabicas is to ours. When they found out I was from Canada they proudly showed me how the cedar tops on their professional model were from Western Canada, and now they knew how folks there played the guitar.

Cypress

Spanish cypress is the defining wood of the flamenco guitar. It comes in two flavors, Spanish and Italian, both of which grow in Spain. Since the wood is probably more dependent upon growing conditions than which variety it is, it has now become common to see it referred to as Mediterranean cypress and it could come from anywhere in that orbit. Most of what I use is Italian; at least the guy I buy it from is Italian.

Although I am no authority on the subject, it is part of the culture to put graveyards down near the riverbanks – an understandable final resting place in a hot country – and shade them with cypress trees. I have a hunch the casket makers used the wood and probably the guitarmakers used the offcuts. The trees grew rapidly near the water and I can see how the sense of playing a guitar nourished by the ancestors may have had cultural significance. Maybe the first guitarmakers were the casket makers using scraps in slack periods.

That said, the wood is hard for a softwood and soft for a hardwood and thus can be both reflector and sympathetic resonator. With not much mass to restrain it the bracing and tuning of a cypress back is perhaps more critical than that of a classic as it is inherently more lively. It is perhaps this interplay between top and light and lively back which gives the characteristic honk to a good flamenco guitar.

Other varieties of cypress can be used; Mexican cypress is redder and very good. Monterey cypress is somewhat variable but apart from lacking the distinctive camphor smell of Mediterranean it is functionally equal. Port Orford cedar and Alaska Yellow cedar are cousins; quite aromatic and light, they both are gaining favor. As of this writing I am still able to get sufficient quantities of the Spanish but it is increasingly becoming a challenge.

Spruce

It’s hard to make a case for my going far afield for spruce when I can see them out my window here. I’ve used all sorts and variations of spruce over the years and found that where it comes from is not nearly as critical as how it grew and how it was milled. While some customers may be fussy as to their guitar having spruce from Europe, the actual wood can be pretty hard to identify. That said, most of my spruce comes through Italy.

Cedar

I haven’t made a cedar top guitar in decades.

Ebony

The standard wood for fingerboards, it is now getting really hard to find quartersawn. A flatsawn fingerboard will never be stable which is why they never were cut that way until recently when the supply of large trees dropped off. There are other species that make fine fretboards but they lack one quality – they’re not black.

Spanish Cedar

This is the standard neckwood in Spain and also used for bracing and lining and general interior work. It smells like a cigar box because that is what they make cigar boxes from. It has many magical properties and adds its part to the bouquet of the guitar. It grows fast and is usually available, although no longer cheap.

Indian Rosewood

Since the demise of Brazilian rosewood, this is the standard wood for classics and for the negra flamenco guitar. It isn’t fun to work with but it certainly performs well. Judiciously braced it can make a pretty vibrant body. I’ve heard that Indian rosewood was more expensive in Spain than Brazilian a century ago. Wood snobs get all fussed about which it is, but I wouldn’t want to participate in any blindfold testing claiming I can hear the difference.

Maple

The standard wood for violins, it has never been a big part of Spanish guitar building. Being imported from the north it was an expensive wood and hard to get. The sound is bright, refined and elegant. I’ve made some fine guitars with it but it lacks a defining character, which can be a plus if you want a neutral and accurate sound.

Pear

I’m a big fan of pearwood. The Madrid maker Paulino Bernabe was a high profile proponent of it so I’m not alone in using it. It has the good qualities of maple but a more open and woody sound and a sort of maple syrup color. It works well if you’re skilled and careful and finishes easily. The wood is steamed to evenly distribute the color and stabilize it as its main use is in in endgrain blocks for woodcuts. I’ve seen guitars made from it dating from the 1890 era. Stradivarius made violins with it and others used it for cellos. A friend had a Testore cello from about 1750 of pear and it had the characteristic warm, fat, rich sound. It sounds like it looks. Aurally edible.