Baroque Beauties

Carl Dudash lives surrounded by beauty—beautiful wood, beautiful shapes, beautiful paintings done by his artist wife, Marilee, all of which combine to produce beautiful music.

For nearly 50 years the former engineer has turned his hand to creating elegant harpsichords used in private homes, colleges and concert performances around the world. “My goal is to create one harpsichord for every year I am alive. I am working on number 77,” said the 76-year-old.

His instruments have been featured prominently in Baroque musical performances in the United States and Europe and are owned by eminent area musicians such as Christine Gevert, founder of Crescendo, and Dutch keyboard artist and Berkshires resident Mariken Palmboom, who has appeared as a soloist for the Berkshire Bach Society.

Dudash did not set out to be a maker of Baroque instruments. He first saw one while studying space science and applied physics at Catholic University of America in Washington DC. “I sang in the university chorus,” he said, “and there was a harpsichord in one of the practice rooms but it was under lock and key. Until then, I was ignorant of them.”

Later while working for United Technology, he passed a co-worker’s desk and saw a picture of a harpsichord on it. “Not his wife, a harpsichord,” he said. Discussion led to the fellow lending books about harpsichords to Dudash, an avid amateur musician, and advising him to start with a kit. The kits were historically derived and offered “a quick way to learn how to make one,” Dudash said.

At the time the harpsichord had been enjoying a revival and it was not long before his instruments were drawing attention. His first was used in the Summer Music Program at Trinity College where it was played by a renowned harpsichordist who later purchased it.

“When I made my first one, I had no intention of selling them” he recalled. “Somehow others started coming for instruments. For the first few years, I made them from kits—they were really decent instruments—and I made a few for people. In the process I ran into some phenomenal musicians.”

And, while seeking an artist to paint a picture for his mother’s birthday, he also ran into the woman who would become his wife and partner in the production of the instruments. Marilee Dudash agreed to paint the picture and further, agreed to decorate the instruments he was constructing. Her elegant, often intricate, designs and paintings enhance the visual beauty of the instruments’ cases, lids and soundboards.

Their creations are designed in the styles of the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries. Dudash branched out from kits in 1985 when he created his first original instrument based on drawings of Yale’s 1640 Andreas Ruckers single manual harpsichord. “He was like the Stradivari of his time,” said Dudash. “We enlarged the range to accommodate later literature while retaining the Flemish character of the sound.”

The case was painted with a single-color exterior and complimentary interior color, with faux marbre (faux marbling) panels on case and lid. Flemish seahorse papers in the keywell, decorated lid papers with Latin mottoes and soundboard paintings.

The painting can be customized to reflect the customer’s interest. One harpsichord, dedicated to a talented young man killed in Vietnam, carries a Latin motto, that translates to, “May my music bring peace to the world,” while Dudash’s personal instrument is inscribed with the motto of Dubrovnik, Non bene pro toto libertas venditur auro (Liberty is not sold for all the gold in the world).

Marilee Dudash studied the decoration of antique instruments in museum collections in Europe and the United States. Her work includes traditional soundboard paintings, landscape paintings for lids and cases, faux marbre, chinoiserie and gold leaf or bronze powder case designs.

While Dudash bases his designs on historic principles, he is not slavish in his reproduction of early techniques. His designs incorporate changes to improve structural integrity and modifications to customize the instrument to suit the client’s wishes.

He explained that the most vulnerable part of the instrument is the point where the straight side panel meets the curved “cheek” at the front. The strings in a large harpsichord can exert up to 2,400 tons of tension, causing the instrument to want to fold in on itself. He feels free to try different solutions to keep his instruments sound.

“Some people say that you have to do it the way they did in the 13th century but what’s the point of recreating problems?” he asks. “When I got the drawings of the 1640 Ruckers harpsichord from Yale, I saw this little brace that had been added in the 18th century to keep it from folding up—so even then they were working to make them better.”

He said that one company reproduces the same kind of wire used in early instruments but he does not employ that, saying early wire made “a hissing kind of sound.” Purists may argue that that was the way Baroque music was first heard but Dudash asks, “Who’s to say they liked it that way?”

He says there is no standard for the size of a harpsichord or number of keys on the keyboard. That varied with the period in which the instrument was produced and some earlier models have been converted to allow music from later periods to be played. “There is a whole industry that has grown up rebuilding them to accommodate later literature,” he said.

While he creates keyboards—not his favorite part of construction—he draws the line at making the jacks that hold the plectra (which pluck the strings). The jacks, slim pieces of wood several inches long, are tapered from one end to the other by removing perhaps one one-thousandth of an inch of material, Dudash said. This tapering allows sufficient room for a plectrum to push the jack body away from the string. An inset tongue pivots, pushing against the angled bottom of the slot, securing the tongue for the pluck.

Traditional plectra were made of tiny pieces of crow’s quill, which was treated with olive oil to prolong its life. Modern instruments may use Delrin, a polymeric substance.

Dudash finds making jacks too tedious and instead purchases the exquisite jacks made by Norm Purdy, one of three producers in the United States. “Look at these,” he said, holding up a satiny smooth example. “There is no sanding on it. I asked him how he does it and he says he uses a plane. And look at this pin that holds the tongue—you can hardly see it. He makes hundreds of these things.”

Dudash also make clavichords which he said are quieter than harpsichords. “We built, what is in all likelihood the only upright clavichord in existence,” he said. “The idea of having the soundboard of a clavichord right there ‘in your face’ was a fascinating concept to me so I designed a clavichord to do just that.”

The instrument was introduced at the 1997 Boston Early Music Festival and Exhibition and was received with much enthusiasm. The instrument later received full soundboard paintings, a carved and gilt rose and hand-painted case decorations. It is now in a private collection.

Dudash says the demand for harpsichords is less than it was in the latter decades of the 20th century, but Number 77 already has a prospective buyer. He is working on the case, sanding it to a satiny finish while his wife is painting the soundboard. But the paint is causing him agita, being neither the color nor the texture he hoped for.

Does he ever get tired of the exacting work, which can command up to a year’s labor? “When you are standing here sanding paint and it’s not going right, it’s a dirty job,” he said. “But when you hear it played, that is special.”