“Can I help you?” The middle-aged Chinese man asked.
“Yeah. Do you have any handmade classical guitars?” I responded, anxious to cut to the chase.
I was at Ranking Sports, a sports store cum music store located at Bras Basah Complex. The store’s highly contrasting inventory made it an oddity of sorts. But I had been purchasing strings from them for years and I knew that they carried a decent range of classical guitars.
I was waiting for SMa to photocopy some notes for me. I was told to return in half an hour. I knew that testing guitars would be the best way for me to kill time.
The man led me to the back.
“What kind of price range do you have?” I asked
“From $1100 onwards,” he replied.
“That’s too low. My current guitar cost $2000.”
I was referring to my teaching guitar, an Asturias Standard. I did not want to tell him that my primary instrument, a Menkevich La Donna, originally retailed at $7500.
“Our top model is $5000” he said as he moved some guitars around, searching for the correct guitar case.
I placed my black sling bag and an empty SMa folder on the floor, as I sat on a musician’s seat.
“Here it is,” he said as he pulled out a noticeably larger-than-normal classical guitar.
“Why is it so big?” I enquired with a furrowed brow, “Isn’t that a bass guitar?”
My last remark was less of a question and more of a statement. I was previously an assistant conductor to Alex Abisheganaden, the man who pioneered Niibori instruments in Singapore. I was also the person who was in-charge of purchasing Niibori instruments for Ngee Ann Polytechnic Strings. I knew what a bass guitar looked like.
“Oh yeah,” the man replied, somewhat embarrassed. He returned the instrument to its case and continued his search.
“Here it is,” he said again as he pulled out another case.
“This is the Esteve Adalid, their top model.” He said as he handed me the instrument.
I took a look at the construction before I tuned it. It was very pretty and cleanly constructed. Unfortunately, the tuners looked to be Rubner tuners. I hate Rubner tuners. I think they look awful.
I started with my warm-up standards, a chromatic scale and some technical drills before playing my warm-up piece, Canarios by Gaspar Sanz. Playability was decent. There was nothing remarkable about the playability.
After the piece I peered inside the sound hole. It appeared to be made in 2006.
I played El Marabino by Antonio Lauro next. I love that piece. The strings sounded slightly ‘dead’. I was not impressed thus far.
Finally, I decided to play a recent favorite of mine, Gran Vals by Tarrega. I sometimes refer to it as the ‘Nokia Song’ since Nokia blatantly stole 4 bars from the Gran Vals to use as their trademark ringtone.
As I played, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a young man in a long-sleeved shirt and pants walking towards the store. He entered and watched as I played.
Though I dislike having people watch me when I test a guitar, it’s something I’ve grown accustom to. After visiting the Kohno factory during the winter and testing guitars in front of Masaki Sakurai with my hands nearly frozen, I wasn’t shaken easily anymore.
I loss myself in the music and built up to a climax before definitively ending the piece.
“Wow that sounds great,” the new comer remarked to me.
“It’s okay,” I replied, decidedly less impressed about the guitar’s performance and my own. The man looked to be in his twenties. He was wearing a shirt and tie. He was probably an office worker on his break.
The sales person seemed excited now.
“It retails for $5500, but we can give you around 10% off so it’ll be $4800.” He said.
“I’ll think about it,“ I said as I returned the guitar to him. My notes were probably printed by now. Besides, I also had to go to Takashimaya and get my glasses fixed.
