I can’t help but reminisce about my visit to the Sam Ash music store in Midtown Manhattan. The energy within the store was nothing short of magical. However, nothing in the store jazzed me up more that the repair shop within the store’s hidden areas. It was a place where talented people repair and build stuff. That’s ultimately what it all comes down to for me: I love to build and repair things. While I can’t say I like doing either under pressure, I love going through the building and repairing process because of the intensity of the emotions associated with it.
Building stuff exudes a creative energy that flows through every conversation. I felt it when I was photographing the shop: I could actually hear a father pleading with the tech to fix his daughter’s violin, as it’s her most prized possession. In my mind, the daughter held her father’s hand with tears welling up in her eyes, her head nodding slowly.
The repair dude, for his part, recognizes the violin’s need and scans the instrument. If it were me, I’d want to comfort the little girl and remove her tears. I’d know the only way to do that would be to ix the violin and get it back into her hands, asap.
The tools and parts reflect the potential to heal. Regardless of the little girl’s skill, every tool, piece of wood, and miscellaneous violin parts would bring music’s magic back into her home and into the hearts that reside in it.
There may be some anger and frustration as the repair eats time. The tech may have estimated too short a time and the father would probably become frustrated with how long the repair takes. Again, if I were the tech, I would feel the pressure that the father’s emotion causes. But I would also understand the source is his little girl’s hopes and dreams. However, those of us who build and repair stuff know that almost nothing ever goes as planned. There’s always a chance that things will take longer to do.
In the end, though, the little girl will be back practicing her études and all the negative emotion will fade away. But the repair shop remains. Its potential will be ready for the next person who needs her instrument in working order. There is subtle heroism and creative energy in the shop. No one but those of who have a similar shop would truly understand its magic. But it’s there and I carry that magic every day.
