The second star is simply because this establishment has a reputation for making good violins. The three missing stars are more about character, integrity, and the love of music itself. If I throw honesty into the mix, I really ought rate this shop as one star.
But such a harsh rating deserves clarity, so I will tell my tale. I entered this establishment with a violin in one hand and a ten year old girl hanging on the other hand. The girl, having never played violin, is in love with the instrument for all the beauty and happiness the instrument has inspired in her and she has determined to invest the thousands of hours required to master it. She is however, young and impulsive, so the violin in my other hand is a loaner, the best her school can provide, and it may not be a perfect instrument, but in the hands of a budding new violinist, it is the perfect tool to test the waters and determine how deep her dedication to the instrument goes. It does however need the care and attention of someone skilled enough to replace the bridge and put on a new string.
So here I stand as one of the patrons of this little shop filled with stringed instruments. My daughter is even more deeply enthralled and excited as she’s waited weeks to see this instrument come alive again. Four people stand in front of the shop, playing together. It sounds great. She squeezes my hand even tighter. She’s almost in tears of excitement as one of the players breaks away to help us.
That’s where this sweet scenario goes wrong. What I assume is an artist, takes the violin to a cluttered work table, “hmmm and hah’s” over it for a moment, then brings the violin back and states that the violin is unfixable and unplayable.
The little hand I’m holding gets a little limp. I begin to ask questions while he goes on showing me how the strings lay against the fingerboard and digging through a small box of different sized bridges. He makes measurements and attempts to demonstrate why this violin is of no value because he can’t lift the strings far enough off of the fingerboard to make it play perfectly.
I look down at my daughter and she is failing to hold back the tears. She buries her head in my shirt as she believes her school is out of violins and without a successful repair, she will not be able to take lessons.
The shopkeeper notices, and puts on a display of making one more attempt at repair before shaking his head and saying there’s no way to fix it…however, he does happen to rent violins. My instincts had already been firing off warnings, but the distinct stench of car salesmen hit my nostrils as his attempt at an upsell continued. Needless to say, I left. I took my daughter to the car and did my best to console her as she could no longer hold back her tears. Not being a violinist, I could not be sure if i had just been manipulated, or the violin truly was trash, so I took it out of the case. If it is “unfixable,” I thought, then something must be broken because even a cheap violin is designed to play, even if it is badly. Nothing was broken.
I thought through the experience in the store. He was making measurements but not holding the ruler all the way against the surfaces he was measuring. He was being dishonest, manipulating me, and trying to play my daughters heartbreak against me.
So, still not wishing to think badly of a person without knowing, I asked around. Come to find out, this guy isn’t the only violin expert in Modesto. How could he know that I know violinists? The violin is fixable. The bridges and fake measurements he was showing me were just that, fake.
His reputation for these kind of antics is well known in the community for exactly the type of experience I have just described.
In the end, the school had found funding for a couple of new violins, and one was offered to my daughter, along with a sweet promise to help her get caught up with the rest of the class when the new one arrives.
I’d drive a long way to go somewhere else. Dishonesty is dishonesty. Play straight if you want my business.
