Category: lord mayors creative fellowship

There’s always been a lot of intrigue around Antonio Stradivari and his varnishing techniques. Was there a secret recipe? While there’s likely something to it, I suspect the mystique is a little overblown.

That said, the varnishing traditions of the Italian masters are absolutely worth studying for any aspiring violin maker. Whether working with oil- or spirit-based varnish, there’s a depth of knowledge—and yes, plenty of “secret ingredients”—to explore. While you can buy ready-made varnishes, making your own (at least a few times) feels like an essential part of the journey toward competence and, eventually, mastery.

Traditionally, makers guarded their methods closely. Part mystique, part self-preservation—protecting both their product and reputation in what has always been a somewhat parochial and capricious classical music world… and perhaps still is.

Why I Chose Spirit Varnish

For my own work, I’ve chosen to pursue spirit-based varnishing for a few reasons:

• My teacher’s methods are based on spirit varnish, giving me a solid foundation to build on
• Boiling oil is about as dangerous as it sounds—even for someone with a chemistry background (yes, I did experiment… just enough to know it wasn’t my rabbit hole)
• Most restoration work relies on spirit-based finishes—they dry faster and are more adaptable when working with additives
• In practice, both oil and spirit varnishes oxidise/evaporate, and the end results are often closer than purists might like to admit

Learning the Italian Way

So how does one learn authentic Italian varnishing?

I briefly considered packing up and heading to Italy (sorry kids—no dinner for a month, Dad’s off chasing varnish secrets). A more practical path emerged through the luthier community, where I came across Sophia Vettori.

Sophia is a highly regarded third-generation Italian violin maker, with instruments that command premium prices and have long waiting lists. She’s also part of a newer generation of makers who are willing to share their knowledge rather than guard it.

Her varnishing course—largely asynchronous and supported online—offers direct access to her expertise, along with a community of makers working through the same material.

The course focuses on traditional preparation methods, starting from raw ingredients, rather than pre-made mixes. That means working with pigments and resins to create your own varnish from scratch, then learning how to apply and develop finishes, including antiquing techniques. This was an important aspect for me 

It’s a blend of family recipes and modern insights gathered from her broader luthier network. This community itself is a real strength—people coming to luthiery from all directions, sharing knowledge, solving problems, and contributing to a kind of collective “hive mind.”

Sourcing Materials (from the Antipodes…)

Getting started from this corner of the world has its challenges.

Oddly enough, the modern wellness movement has been unexpectedly helpful—essential oils and resins used for incense often overlap with traditional varnish ingredients. A bit of “OOOmmm…” goes a long way.

For other materials, I’ve had to order from European suppliers, navigating the usual dance of what can and can’t be shipped internationally.

Where the Learning Happens

As I’ve worked through Sophia’s methods, I’ve started to see clear intersections with what I learned from my teacher, alongside techniques used by other luthiers I know—plus a light dusting of undergraduate chemistry.

It’s in these intersections that real learning happens.

Not just intellectually, but physically—through the hands. Feeling how materials behave, seeing how layers develop, and asking better questions of both the process and the people around me in my community. Sophia also hosts an online community, there is a great deal of expertise there and just sharing the path with others puts you in a kind of virtual workshop community of people engaged in doing the same thing..very cool.

For me the learnign process brings to mind the idea that simplicity comes from complexity. You have to wrestle with the detail before arriving at something that feels natural and refined.

Building Depth Through Practice

For now, I’m working through her grandfather’s recipes—learning through repetition, feel, and observation.

Each stage builds on the last:

• Surface preparation
• Sealing
• Building varnish layers
• Developing colour
• Highlighting and antiquing

Through this, I’m developing a much deeper understanding of colour, lustre, and depth. It’s also sharpening my eye when assessing other instruments—and already proving invaluable in repair work.

That understanding of layers—what’s happening beneath the surface—makes a real difference. It’s something I expect to deepen further as I move into formal restoration training.

Final Thoughts

Whether I’m working on a modern instrument, one of my own builds, or restoring an older piece, I now have a much deeper well of knowledge to draw from—something I hope my clients notice and appreciate down the track .

My thanks to Sophia Vettori for sharing her knowledge so generously, and for helping me further along this less-travelled road.

Other fellowship posts

• Italian Varnishing – A Journeyman’s Tale
• Journeyman on a Fellowship: Exploring European Techniques

Fiddler Dan is supported by a 2026 Creative Arts Fellowship to study European varnishing and restoration techniques. The Brisbane City Council Lord Mayor’s Creative Fellowships program makes this kind of deep, hands-on learning possible.

Further down the track, I had the opportunity to work alongside David Clark in Brisbane at Animato. A high-end cabinet maker in a previous life, he brings a wealth of knowledge about working with wood. There, I also experienced the production environment of a violin shop—repair work, workflow, and the rhythm of instruments coming across the bench—a valuable complement to traditional practice.

During this time, I also connected with others in the trade, sharing knowledge and learning from one another. Since then, I’ve been entrusted with instruments from across the community—keen amateurs, teachers, schools, and professional players alike. Somewhere in the midst of it all, a manner of expertise has begun to emerge from the sawdust.

At the same time, there’s the growing realisation that, as far as I’ve come, there is still much to learn—and ultimately, to translate into the pointy end of a chisel. I’m reminded of George Leonard’s writing in Mastery:

“Mastery is not about perfection. It’s about a process, a journey. The master is the one who stays on the path day after day, year after year.”

This is especially true in Australia, where expertise is lightly sprinkled across the country, not always easily accessible and often on the edge of retirement. One area of need that sits between my training in violin making and general repair work is restoration. Looking back at the clients I’ve had to turn away in previous years—many of whom still struggled to find someone to undertake the work in a timely manner—the gap became clear as a real need.

It’s here that I began to see where my own skills could grow to meet these unmet needs in the musical community. Developing restoration and varnishing skills in the authentic European traditions—particularly for older and higher-quality instruments—started to crystallise as the next step.

By a bit of serendipity, a friend and I were discussing the broader challenges facing the musical arts community, including the leap toward self-sustainability. I remembered that there were periodic fellowship opportunities supported by the Lord Mayor through a Creative Fellowship progrmme. I initially sought them it to pass on—but then came the lightbulb moment: why not have a go myself?

With the help of some generous supporters in the Queensland music community—people willing to articulate the need for these “old world” skills, and to vouch for my sincerity as an emerging luthier—the idea took shape.

So, thank you to long-time friend Timo Jarvela, string teacher and composer extraordinaire (with whom I once shared the front desk of a local orchestra many years ago), and to Warwick Adeney, long-time principal violinist of the Queensland Symphony Orchestra, for your letters of support.

Thanks also to the Early Music Society of Queensland—for whom I’ve worked on a number of repair/restoration projects (some waiting quite some time for the right hands)—and to National Music, a Brisbane-based music and string instrument distributor serving schools and local retailers, for backing the application and supporting my current work.

I submitted an application for a Lord Mayor’s Creative Fellowship late last year—and recently heard the good news I was awarded a creative fellowship to study “Italian varnishing and European Restoration Techniques”

Through this fellowship, I’ll be learning Italian varnishing techniques from Sofia Vettori, a third-generation Italian maker who violins are highly sought after and specialises in varnishing; together with violin restoration techniques from Iris Carr, an internationally respected restorer who  trained at Charles Beare’s in London after graduating from the famed Newark School of Violin Making (which sadly recently closed its doors to full time study).

My first steps involve assembling pigments, resins, and materials from across Europe and Italy, alongside local art suppliers—and, inevitably, a few hippy shops for oils and gums. Diving into the course material and corresponding with the tutors, I find myself drawing again on my background in science. It feels a bit like being back in an undergraduate chemistry lab.

Once again, it’s that familiar intersection of science and music, striving to do my best and enjoying the learning journey.

Anyway—it’s back to the bench to grind some more pigments…

Putting it all together would not be possible with out the support and impetus of a creative arts fellowship from the Lord Mayor of Brisbane. 

The Lord Mayor’s Creative Fellowships are an initiative of Brisbane City Council