Why the Swedish Clavichord?

Written for the newsletter of the Finnish Clavichord Society

Why the Swedish clavichord? And why would someone on the west coast of North America find the Swedish clavichord of more than passing interest?

In 1982 I moved to the San Francisco area to work for a harpsichord maker. It didn't take long to make the acquaintance of Bjarne Dahl, a man well known here for his work in early piano restoration. Upon my first visit to his workshop, in a pile of instruments awaiting restoration, something distinctly different caught my eye. It was obviously a clavichord, and a large one at that. I was informed that it was a Swedish clavichord from about 1743, by someone named Philip Jacob Specken, who I had never heard of. Bjarne had acquired it in the '60s, finding it in an antique store in Copenhagen. Though in bad physical condition, several features immediately captivated me. It was un-fretted with a range of only C-d''', but it was one of the largest clavichords I had seen, certainly much larger than a Hubert I had built some years before that was fretted with a larger range (C-g'''). The soundboard area on the clavichord was huge, and the grain direction was on the diagonal rather than parallel to the front. What could this be about?! Not long after this the Eva Helenius-Öberg book came out, and I came into a copy along with the drawing of another Specken clavichord published by the Musikmuseet. I knew that I had to make an instrument based on Specken, and find out what this soundboard design produced, so totally different from even Specken's German origin.

My version of the Specken produced pretty much what I expected, and lived up to concepts I had gleaned from the Öberg book. The principles laid down in the eighteenth century by the Vetenskapsakademie seem quite sound and are borne out in practice. The diagonal soundboard, with bridge and ribs crossing nearly perpendicular to the grain direction creates a strong, simple and compliant acoustical structure. It aids greatly in counteracting the force exerted by the relatively long afterlength between bridge and wrestpins. It is quite dynamic, and tuning stability is amazingly good. Where would these principles lead in an instrument the size of a Lindholm-Söderström?!

The Lindholm-Söderström design confirms all of the strengths demonstrated by the earlier design, and goes further in tonal and mechanical refinement. In the area of mechanical refinement I cite the Swedish rack. This system yields as quiet an action as I have encountered in any keyboard instrument, and the obvious benefits to a clavichord action require no elaboration. In the area of tonal refinement, I am still absorbing the wonders of what it is capable of. I will go as far as to say that these late Swedish clavichords are the most dynamic and the most musically versatile clavichords I have encountered. I have heard everything played on them from Dowland to Debussy, and like a chameleon, they fall into and feel at home in everything they encounter. They are capable of amazing clarity and nuance. The unwrapped bass strings in conjunction with the 4' provide a powerful bottom without overpowering the ensemble, even the extreme treble. The long afterlength is one of the Swedish clavichords' masterful features. Particularly in soft passages, it creates an illusion of sustain it would not have in a traditional German design. The bridge profile is the perfect compromise in achieving sustain, power, dynamic range, and clarity. These late instruments have a lot of timber in them. They have astounding tuning stability without compromising musical qualities. I made two Lindholm-Söderström instruments in California. One is in Massachusetts, the other is in Japan. Both were tuned in early June in Massachusetts. It is reported that both are still in quite usable tune!

For myself, there is no doubt about the excellence of the Swedish clavichord as it survived into the 19th century. Their musical qualities more than justify their great size, and I truly hope they are coming into their own with the recognition they deserve.


Andrew Lagerquist

November, 2001
Berkeley, California