GOOD VIBRATIONS
At Teifi Harps in Wales, we discover the superb craftmanship behind this majestic melody maker
D ebt collectors following ancient Welsh law could snatch everything from the impoverished except their yew pail, plume and harp. “I can easily believe that’s still true,” says Ros Robinson of Teifi Harps in Ceredigion. It might sound unlikely, but the harp is entwined with the region’s cultural history. Welsh medieval poets plucked away while praising royalty, and the Welsh triple harp became so popular in the 18th century that every town would have a player. And somewhere in all this, the harp gained its status as the country’s national instrument.
Yet, until recently, there was only one harp maker left in Wales. Teifi Harps was started in 2004 by Allan Shiers, who had trained under John Weston Thomas, a local carpenter credited with reclaiming the tradition. The company, set up as a not-for-profit community enterprise in a Victorian schoolhouse, became the place for hand-finished harps. Allan made, played and gave every moment to the instrument, but in 2016, then in his sixties, he wanted to step back. He asked Ros Robinson, a local primary school teacher, to help out answering phones.
“I fell in love with the place and got more involved than I intended,” says Ros, now managing director. “I’m not the kind of person who can watch and do nothing, so I made the business more efficient. Then I learned to make a harp because I don’t like not knowing how things work and I learnt to play, too.” Ros, who had never played an instrument before, now runs Teifi, but Allan is still around: “He was in yesterday to see if we needed anything. It keeps that continuity.”
MELODY MAKERS
Teifi Harps makes three models: the Siff Saff, a 34-string, 8kg Celtic lever harp for beginners; the Telor, a 34-string, 10kg Celtic lever harp favoured among folk harpists; and the Eos, a 36-string, 15kg concert gauge-lever harp, developed with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales, for professionals. The Siff Saff, at 110cm tall, is the most popular; the Telor, at 120cm, shows off the makers’ craftsmanship; while the sound from the 130cm Eos, “the Rolls-royce of harps”, rivals pedal harps seen on stage.
The intricate making process can be split into stages, each with its own challenges. The quality of Teifi’s harps rests on the wood it sources from an English woodyard, which can involve a bit of a hunt. “It’s getting harder and harder to find the size and quality of planks we need,” Ros says. “Our harps should last a lifetime, so we have to be really careful.” Teifi uses western red cedar for its
PREVIOUS PAGE Ros Robinson THIS PAGE AND OPPOSITE Teifi Harps employs a team of local staff who work by hand. While retaining the area’s harp-making tradition, they endeavour to improve the construction and sound of the instrument
soundboards (the plank the strings hang from). When plucked, the string drives energy into the soundboard, which then vibrates. Cedar produces warm, mellow tones. Tom and Mark J, the woodworkers, look for uniform grain and regularity in the rings, as ears of all musical ability will detect inconsistency when the harp is played. They also consider the load: the wood must be able to withstand the tension of the strings tugging on the neck of the harp (the top). The load on the Telor is half a tonne; the load on the Eos is over a tonne or a sixth of an elephant.
Other parts, including the soundbox (the wood closest to the harp, supporting the soundboard), the column (the opposite pillar), the neck and the shoulder (the corner of wood between the neck and soundboard), may be made of black walnut, cherry, ash or beech, depending on preference and supply. Ash is becoming increasingly scarce because of ash dieback. Fortunately, Bob, the engineer, is working on making an entire harp out of carbon fibre.
The planks then need to be prepared. Tom and Mark J test their moisture content and slide them into a kiln on a low heat to dry out. They expect this to take a fortnight or a month – but sometimes it’s longer. “We’ve had some western red cedar in the kiln for three months that’s just about ready,” Ros says. Dry planks are given to Bob, a former boat-builder, for rough-cutting on a big computerised machine. “It has a will all of its own,” Ros says. “It’s incredibly precise, but temperamental.” Tom and Mark J then come along to shape and sand the parts to perfection to prepare them for the spray booth, where Mark S, the technician, applies layers of lacquer. Once dry, he assembles the parts using Teifi’s own tuning and bridge pins, made by Bob, and fixes the strings.
The harp might look nearly ready, but the wood must now be left to settle. When it is strung, pressure pulls the neck down and the soundboard up, the wood taking a while to adjust. Only once it has stopped moving can the levers – the metal devices at the top of each string, which harpists alter to produce naturals, sharps and flats – be put on. The levers, which are made by Bob and Sarah, the trainee technician, are Teifi’s real pride. “They’re quite a complicated piece of engineering,” Ros says, “and they are objects of beauty.” Harpists praise how smooth and quiet they are in action, lending themselves to ‘bent’ notes in jazz and blues. After this, the harp must rest again for another week or so as the wood does more adjusting. “Mark S is a perfectionist,” Ros says. “Harps must sound exactly right.
It’s a nightmare, but you need someone like that.”
Finally, the harp can be played but, for some, it looks naked: lots of people like their harps decorated. Christine Sheath, a local artist who works with Teifi, is often asked to paint or burn butterflies or vines onto the soundboard.
“Harps are quite complicated pieces of engineering but are also things of beauty”
NEW STRINGS ATTACHED
Teifi Harps makes about 120 harps a year. An order for a Telor or Eos is usually fulfilled within six months; a Siff Saff, which involves a simpler process, could be ready in six weeks. “I send people pictures as their harp is made,” Ros says. “It always gets to a stage where they think it’s finished, and I have to tell them it has to sit with us while the wood settles.” (This happens both before and after the lever stage.) Meanwhile, the harpist has to bond virtually with their instrument, anticipation building until it can sit in their living room. Once home, they can develop a real attachment. Harpists, says Ros, often develop an intimacy with their instrument because of how they’re played. “The Welsh word is cwtch [meaning cuddle] – when you play the harp, you’re almost embracing it.” Some people name theirs; a recent customer called hers ‘Marguerite’.
Teifi’s greatest issue is demand. “When we got back after lockdown last year, we had a huge influx of orders,” Ros says. People who had been put off playing because they couldn’t find a teacher or didn’t want to cart around 8kg of wood considered virtual lessons as so much of their lives had moved online. Others realised that playing an instrument could be a comfort if they couldn’t go out much.
Harp-making, which faces competition from cheap, massproduced imports, is still on the Heritage Craft Association’s endangered list, but there are notes of optimism. Last autumn, Wales welcomed its second maker, Derwent Harps, from Derbyshire, who make smaller starter instruments. “We’re not competing,” Ros says. “Having another harp-maker nearby makes the area a destination. We’re finally reviving our heritage.”