I’LL HAVE to admit I was politely dubious the day Tom Blackshear mentioned that he intended to become a world-class luthier. I had just completed a year’s stint assisting San Antonio luthier Graydon Buss (now deceased) in the reconstruction of my damaged Miguel Rodriguez concert guitar (in truth I was more a gopher than assistant – my job mainly consisted of keeping Gradon company while he fixed my guitar) and I’d observed at first hand what kind of skills it takes to build a great guitar. Although Tom was a pretty serious enthusiast, it didn’t seem likely that he could even come close to something like that. Besides, I’d seen enough ho-hum guitars to last a lifetime.

Nonetheless, as we sat in Graydon’s kitchen and Tom shared his dream with us, I smiled indulgently and kept my skepticisms to myself. Sure, Tom, of course you’ll do it. Sure…

That conversation took place a little over 20 years ago. Recently, I thought about it as I drove home from Tom’s house where I had spent the afternoon playing one of his recent experiments – a classical guitar based on a 1973 Jose’ Romanillos pattern. I like to think I’m a pretty discriminating critic, but that guitar was wonderfully fine; while not at all stridulous, it possessed a firm, luminous quality that was very musical . The guitar was at once an impressive demonstration of Romanillos’ perspective while it also exemplified ideas I had long identified as characteristic of Tom’s work. No mere imitator of other people’s labor, Tom was simply pushing his own personal envelope in a new direction.

Blackshear’s interest in guitars stemmed from a fascination with flamenco music. Admittedly a pretty recondite pursuit for a sun-baked Texas kid, flamenco nevertheless fired his soul like nothing else, and in time Tom found his way to Dallas flamenco guitarist and teacher Eddie Freeman. Study with Freeman (who was also a luthier) served to introduce him to the basics of flamenco as well as showing him what good guitars were like. A trip to Spain in the   mid-1960’s cemented his interest. While there he was befriended by flamenco players, enthusiasts, and luthiers alike who were no doubt intrigued by the young Texan who so loved their music.

Spain provided Tom with the best guitar he could afford, - a veritable icon of the times – an inexpensive Conde Hermanos ‘student model’ flamenco guitar. Although the bargain-priced Condes were pretty basic guitars, they were also pretty good. Even more important, Tom found inspiration in their unadorned, workmanlike construction. Looked at with a little imagination, they didn’t seem that far from something a person with reasonable woodworking skills could emulate. With no more preparation than this, Tom decided to try his hand at guitar making. The decision changed his life.

Tom’s early guitar making efforts showed promise. He found that while he could make credible, workmanlike guitars, they clearly were not good enough to meet the standards he had set for himself. Like many aspiring luthiers he had a definite idea of what he wanted, but he hadn’t yet mastered the elusive intricacies of his craft which would allow him to work with predictable consistency.

Carefully noting what worked for him and what didn’t, Tom spent a couple of decades exploring the complexities of guitar construction. Working in virtual isolation, his inspirations were the designs of the world’s great luthiers. In time, the messages contained in those designs spoke to him with increasing clarity, finally becoming so familiar that he could both demonstrate and combine their individual characteristics to produce instruments that were instantly familiar, yet uniquely his own.

Although Blackshear’s guitars now speak with their own authoritative voice, a keen observe will detect his respect for the traditional luthiers’ canon.One of the first things I notice when I pick up one of Tom’s guitars is his attention to detail . While it is customary to expect superb workmanship in a real concert guitar, this does not always happen, even with guitars of exceptional or historic quality. The excellence of Tom’s woodworking is easily seen because he likes to finish his guitars with clear French polish – backs, sides and tops. (This is in contrast with sprayed-on polyurethane or lacquer finishes which, although durable, are also useful in hiding a less than faultless assembly). Combine this with an understated rosette, a classically simple head design, and you have a guitar of subdued, almost astringent, elegance.

The upright probity of his material design stands in stark contrast to the way his instruments perform. Whether classical or flamenco, Tom Blackshear purely and simply builds noisy guitars. They contain not a hint of the euphonious, piano-oriented sound preferred by various Madrid schools and other luthiers.

I had this confirmed for me a few days ago when I played one of Tom’s latest designs – a classical guitar more in keeping with what he customarily builds. In contrast with the sweetness of Tom’s Romanillos influenced design, this guitar had a definite bite. Everything about the instrument said ‘southern Spain’. Close your eyes and it’s all there: the sharp attack and slightly nasal quality of the trebles, the characteristic hollowness and sustain of the basses, the fine overall balance. All combined to produce a guitar with a sparkling airiness as dry as good Amontillado sherry.

I’m admittedly a hopeless romantic when it comes to guitars like this. They represent a sort of quintessential amalgam of the several truly great guitars I’ve been fortunate enough to play. Obviously, however, this kind of intensity isn’t going to fit everybody’s concept of a perfect guitar. Still and all, if arresting character is what you like, then you are apt to really like a Blackshear. On the other hand if some guitars are a bit too raucous for your taste, a Blackshear is probably going to appear downright uncivil. I don’t think Tom would have it any other way.