Adam Birce, owner of Four Strings in Manchester
Situated inside a tiny shop in Manchester, one Richmonder carefully carves away at a wood block. He looks meticulously at each piece to ensure they fit and match before gently setting them together. From an outsider’s perspective, the work might seem simple, but it’s an intricate and often overlooked job that brings tired instruments back to life.
Adam Birce, the owner of Four Strings, restores stringed instruments. These range from priceless violins to modern cellos. But don’t confuse him for a luthier (someone who makes new instruments). Birce’s passion isn’t in adding to the stringed instrument population, but rather in restoring and appreciating what has already been crafted and loved.
Birce grew up in Lynchburg and moved to Richmond in 2003. He started playing the violin in grade school like many other kids, but he grew to truly appreciate it and was encouraged by many teachers and directors to keep performing. He played semiprofessionally out of high school and later got his degree in music at Virginia Commonwealth University as a violinist. After graduating, he landed a job selling violins — a position that soon introduced to him a new world. “As fate would have it, I was asked by my employer to learn to fix violins 15 years ago,” he says. “I soon moved off on my own to do restoration.” Since 2014, he’s been on a mission with Four Strings to provide excellent fine-instrument restoration for the commonwealth.
Violin restoration isn’t a self-taught skill. It requires constant learning and reflection. Each summer for the past decade, Birce has traveled to the Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts for up to two weeks to study under renowned violin restoration expert Hans J. Nebel. Here, students learn everything from delicate edging repair to violin identification. “A lot of the work itself is learning as you go," Birce says. "It’s a lot of problem-solving and critical thinking, like coming up with a woodworking context or color varnish matching.”
Birce’s shop is packed with hundreds of tools, including over 25 woodworking chisels, a half-dozen hand planes, and knives to cut bridges and edgings. Occasionally, Birce will use power tools, like a band saw, if a large piece of wood is needed, but he's typically working with small hand tools. He also makes his own varnish, inspired by a 1700s spirit varnish recipe that is believed to be what iconic Cremonese violin makers once used.
Birce uses tools including a woodworking chisel to restore stringed instruments.
Perhaps one of the most interesting focal points in his workshop might be the large woodpile inside. It’s a jumbled collection of 50- to 200-year-old pieces from instruments he previously restored. Most of the woods he uses are maple and spruce, which tend to be more flexible and can create a richer sound. Willow is also sometimes applied on the inside of the instrument (like corner blocks and linings) because it’s easier to acquire and more economical yet still just as durable and lightweight as spruce. Birce says that most of the willow he uses in his shop is from a cut-down tree taken from his dad’s backyard that he split around 12 years ago. He also notes that celebrated Italian violin maker Antonio Stradivari often used it as well, and Birce tries to emulate his approach.
How long a job takes depends on the piece’s condition and the client’s needs. “Most are about three to six months for major work, unless a full top-to-bottom restoration is needed, which can take even longer,” Birce explains. “I leave that up to the client if they want to commit to that.” One of his longest jobs was working on a Scottish violin from the early 1800s that had been water-damaged and slightly smashed. “I had to use every skill in my toolbox to fix it,” Birce laughingly recalls. “It was a huge job.” His most recent task was restoring a beautiful 1693 violin.
Birce’s clientele ranges from professional and amateur musicians who want the fingerboard bridge replaced or who hear a slight buzzing sound when they play to families who discover an old violin tucked away in a grandparent’s attic and want to know more about it. “I’ll usually give them a rundown like how old it is, its maker and some of its history, and then tell them what is needed,” Birce says. "Often these can be in very bad condition and aren't worth doing — but sometimes it is."
If there’s one thing to be learned from Birce’s passion, it’s that each violin is unique in its own right. He compares the fine instruments market to the fine arts market. “A lot of these instruments are fine art,” he says. “I kind of say this is a Picasso I’m playing or a Degas. I’ve worked on a few in that caliber, which is always a joy and so exciting.”
Because Birce works solely on restoration, and he strives to honor an instrument's original design and contemplate what the maker intended for that particular creation. “My job is to be invisible," Brice says. "There’s a running joke among restorationists that if we do our jobs perfectly, no one will ever know we existed.”
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