Twenty years after the beginning of my career as a luthier, I began to ask myself a simple question: What is the meaning of my work?

The opportunity to reflect concretely on the subject was given to me during the guitar festival of the “A. Segovia” Academy in Pordenone in the autumn of 2024. I was invited to present a lecture on lutherie with a free theme. From this invitation was born the lecture entitled “The Meaning of the Luthier in the Age of Artificial Intelligence,” which I later presented at the Piedmontese Academy of Lutherie and during the FVG International Music Meeting in Sacile.

Hoping to share with you another opportunity for reflection, I invite you to read and, if you wish, comment on what I have written. Thank you.

THE MEANING

What is the meaning of the luthier’s craft? In this era of artificial “intelligence,” we almost find ourselves having to justify our human existence, as creatures limited and prone to error and slowness. Contemporary society and the homo occidentalis are constantly driven by the pursuit of performance, efficiency, infallibility, and, why not, with a certain desire for immortality. So why persist in perpetuating this extremely limited human species?

Reading On the Meaning of Life by Vito Mancuso, theologian and philosopher, led me to investigate the nature of my craft by considering the Italian word “Senso” in its three meanings: significance, sensation, and direction.

SIGNIFICANCE

Why do we continue to build handcrafted objects when industry can produce functional items at reduced costs? What is the meaning of these artifacts and this profession?

“Viva fui in silvis, sum dura occisa securi, dum vixi tacui, mortua dulce cano.”
(I lived alive in the woods, I was felled by the hard axe, while I lived I was silent, dead I sweetly sing.)

This Latin phrase was inscribed under soundboards or carved on the surface of some Renaissance instruments. In a few essential and poetic words, it expresses the destiny of wood which, silent in life, finds its voice only after artisanal transformation. For this reason, even today some luthiers renew this tradition as a gesture of memory and gratitude toward the material that will become sound.

Lutherie cannot exist without matter, and the search for wood represents the starting point of inspiration. When wood is chosen and worked with respect, lutherie becomes a rite of passage: the material is transformed while continuing to “live” in the voice of the instrument. Thus the ancient motto is not just a poetic quotation, but the synthesis of an ethic of care that unites nature, human beings, and music.

But is the luthier an artisan or an artist? The reflection on the role of the luthier spans centuries of intellectual history, and its starting point can be found in semantics, beginning with the Greek concept of téchné: an organized knowledge, a creative ability that unites technical skill and a spiritual dimension. In Latin, ars indicated any activity requiring learning, and the artifex was both craftsman and creator of symbolic works.

Dante was the first to use the term “artist” in Il Convivio, connecting artistic ability and sublime execution to the beauty of creation and nature. The eighteenth- and nineteenth-century separation between the “fine arts” and mechanical arts redefined art as creativity born of inspiration and meant to be contemplated for pure aesthetic pleasure, while craftsmanship was considered a utilitarian practice, mere operativity.

This distinction, however, loses rigidity in lutherie. The luthier moves in a hybrid territory: shaping matter like an artisan, but giving form to an idea like an artist. His creation is not a serial product, but a unique, unrepeatable object, the result of aesthetic sensitivity, technical knowledge, and personal experience. The musical instrument is born from a generative act of thought, from a creative idea before it is born from a manual gesture.

Every historical innovation—from Stradivari’s B-form to the guitars of Torres, Ramírez, or Dammann—shows how lutherie is a creative field in which ideas shake tradition, just as in the figurative arts. The instrument reveals the vision of its maker and becomes a witness to both material and immaterial culture.

Lutherie also belongs to living cultural heritage: a transmitted knowledge characterized by regional traditions (Cremonese, Bolognese, Venetian, Neapolitan schools) and by a complexity that requires the eye of both the builder and the scholar or critic. Building an instrument means choosing materials, knowing history, designing a timbre, and dialoguing with the musician. It is a process in which technique and inspiration coincide. For this reason, when form and sound achieve an unrepeatable unity, the instrument truly becomes a work of art.

SENSATION

What happens when we encounter a handcrafted musical instrument? What atmosphere surrounds the person who builds it and the one who plays it? The answer does not concern sound alone, but the ensemble of sensations, emotions, and perceptions that arise from the encounter between artisan, musician, and object.

An illuminating key to interpretation comes from the theory of atmosphere elaborated by the philosopher Gernot Böhme: every object or environment emanates an emotional quality that deeply influences those who perceive it. From this perspective, a handmade instrument is not a simple technical artifact, but a generator of atmosphere, imbued with the intention, gesture, and vision of the luthier.

Think of the emotion aroused by a Stradivari violin or a Torres guitar: even before sound, these instruments emanate an aura that inspires respect and wonder. It is the echo of a history, a name, a skill that has crossed time and continues to vibrate in the gaze of those who observe it.

The musician, too, when playing an instrument built specifically for them, enters a deeper perceptive dimension: they immerse themselves in an atmosphere that the luthier has helped to create, establishing an invisible dialogue that goes beyond the technical plane. The guitar thus becomes a reciprocal extension, a point of contact between two sensitivities meeting in sound.

Neuroscience confirms that interacting with artistic objects activates brain areas related to emotion, reward, and empathy. Playing a handcrafted instrument, endowed with history and intention, generates more intense responses than playing an industrial instrument. Here an “aesthetic placebo effect” also comes into play: expectations, beliefs, and narratives influence sound and tactile perception, making the experience richer and more personal.

The philosopher Tonino Griffero speaks of the “atmospheric weight” of things: every object possesses an aura that determines its sensible presence. In the case of lutherie, this aura also includes imperfection—not as a defect, but as a human trace that adds authenticity and emotional depth. The luthier’s workshop thus becomes a space dense with atmosphere: a place where wood, tools, and hands create a shared narrative destined to expand when the instrument enters the musician’s life.

Every guitar, therefore, is not only a sonic object, but a medium of relationship. Its atmosphere evolves over time: it changes on stages, in hours of practice, in the hands of those who play it. It stratifies, grows richer, becomes history. And perhaps it is precisely this emotional stratification, even more than acoustic measurements, that makes a handcrafted instrument unique and unrepeatable.

DIRECTION

The construction of musical instruments is linked to the needs of composers, musicians, and the development of music. But the paths differ considerably from one instrument family to another. In the case of bowed strings, it is easy to notice how characteristics, models, and dimensions stabilized in the nineteenth century.

In the classical guitar, however, experimentation and the search for new models and technologies are still ongoing. Old certainties are often dismantled in favor of new attempts to create more powerful and efficient instruments. True, history and time eventually filter out frivolous or overly daring experiments, returning to more sensible, rational, and consolidated constructive concepts. Variations, therefore, follow not only pragmatic needs but extend into the domains of design, art, and messages that are more or less explicit.

In recent editions of REG (Roma Expo Guitars), an exhibition that has marked a decisive growth in the Italian classical-guitar lutherie scene, the trend among many luthiers has been to go beyond the guitar as an object and enrich the musical instrument with concepts that make it truly unique. The idea originated when the organizers invited exhibiting luthiers to build a Limited Edition guitar specifically for the show. From this initiative emerged new stimuli, countless ideas, and a new way of seeing and conceiving the guitar.

One can imagine a Philippe Daverio strolling among the exhibition tables and encountering Klimt’s paintings in Silvia Zanchi’s rosette, or the geometries and colors of Sonia Delaunay faithfully reproduced in Enrico Bottelli’s guitar. Continuing with artistic citations, one can look inside the “Sibilla,” the guitar by Fabio Zontini, and find a detail of the Sistine Chapel painted across the entire interior surface. The floor seen on a trip to Marrakesh becomes the pattern of Daniele Marrabello’s rosette, while Marco Lijoi transfers his passion for astronomy into a constellation framing the soundhole.

Equally noteworthy is the homage that Giacomo Guadagna pays to his Sicily. At first glance one might think of pop art, but the reference is actually to the colors of Sicilian majolica, which arrive at the stability of a traditional rosette segment after passing through a confusion originating from an off-topic point alien to the previous colors. That point represents the Capaci massacre, generating death and chaos and standing in contrast to the art and beauty of music: masterful, Guadagna!

The author of these words, instead, has dedicated his entire production to Venice and Italy, representing the bifora of the Doge’s Palace in the rosette, and evoking in the Ducale Aurea series the vaults of Saint Mark’s and the Basilica della Salute with its Panagia Mesopanditissa, as symbols of past and present pandemics and wars.

The examples mentioned go beyond the guitar as a useful object. The guitar is not complete without the guitarist; it becomes a musical instrument only when a musician plays it—before that, it exists only in potential. Thus every deviation from structural and musical elements serves to create that added value which makes the guitar unique and kindred to its future owner.

Predicting the future is an arduous task, especially in this global and hyper-technological era. It is not easy to foresee the direction lutherie will take; whether musicians will maintain the need to seek the human in their instrument or whether, for budget or convenience, they will turn to mass-produced guitars at a medium-low price point. As in other niche and high-quality markets, added value must be sought in uniqueness, quality, and creative ideas.

Thus necessity is the key point. As long as human beings have intimate necessities and spiritual needs, as well as imagination to go beyond the concrete, they will seek the human, that which is alive. The algorithm, the computer (our modern golems), have no needs of their own but respond to the needs posed by humans, as explained in the beautiful essay by philosopher Maurizio Ferraris, La pelle, in which he clarifies the differences between human intelligence and what is erroneously called “artificial” intelligence, which is nothing more than an extended and expanding memory.

CONCLUSION

In conclusion, as a hoped-for return from chaos to origin, I would like to close with a sentence that is not meant to represent an ending, but a direction to follow, a sensitivity to refine, and a reason to continue using our hands to build and to play:

“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”
“Beauty is truth, truth is beauty, that is what you know of the world and all you need to know.”
Ode on a Grecian Urn — John Keats

Marco Maguolo, Luthier
Favaro Veneto, 25 November 2025

NOTES

Vito Mancuso reflects on the relationship between interiority, meaning, and the spiritual quality of experiences, concepts applicable to the perception of the atmosphere generated by a musical instrument (Mancuso, 2007, 2016, 2019).

Gernot Böhme develops the aesthetic concept of “atmosphere” as a perceptual quality that emerges between subject and environment, going beyond the aesthetic object itself (Böhme, 2010; 2017).

Tonino Griffero expands the theory of atmospheres by introducing “quasi-things” and the role of shared emotional space (Griffero, 2010, 2016).

Heidegger’s idea of Dasein helps clarify the existential relationship between the individual and the surrounding world (Heidegger, 1927/2006).

Wolf Wondratschek’s narrative (2016) offers a poetic parallel on the “life” of handcrafted instruments through the story of a cello.

Neuroscience confirms that interaction with objects of strong aesthetic value activates brain areas associated with emotion, empathy, and reward (Gallese & Freedberg, 2007; Ramachandran & Hirstein, 1999).

Documentation and research by the Italian Lutherie Association provide technical and cultural context useful for understanding contemporary lutherie practices (ALI, n.d.).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Böhme, G. (2010). Atmosfere. Estetica come nuova teoria della percezione. Marinotti.
Böhme, G. (2017). The aesthetics of atmospheres. Routledge.
Gallese, V., & Freedberg, D. (2007). Mirror and canonical neurons and the neural basis of empathy and aesthetics.Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 11(5), 197–203.
Griffero, T. (2017). Atmosferologia. Estetica degli spazi emozionali. Mimesis.
Heidegger, M. (2006). Essere e tempo (Trad. it.). Longanesi. (Opera originale pubblicata nel 1927).
Mancuso, Vito. A proposito del senso della vita. Garzanti, 2021.
Ramachandran, V. S., & Hirstein, W. (1999). The science of art: A neurological theory of aesthetic experience. Journal of Consciousness Studies, 6(6–7), 15–51.
Wondratschek, W. (2005). Mara. Autobiografia di un violoncello. Ed. Ponte alle Grazie.
Liuteria, Musica, Cultura. Organo ufficiale dell’Associazione Liutaria Italiana (A.L.I.), vari articoli di: Anna Lucia Maramotti Politi, Gio Batta Morassi, Alberto Bernini, Deborah Bottani, Alexis Legrosdidier.
Ferraris, Maurizio. La pelle. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2025.
Keats, John. “Ode on a Grecian Urn.” In The Complete Poems, edited by John Barnard, 344–45. Penguin Classics, 2014.
Sacconi, Simone Fernando. The Secrets of Stradivari. Cremona: Libreria del Convento, 1979.