Hinge Unhinged. Lumix M4/3 14mm

Today’s Blip is one of a pair of brass strap hinges I made for a musical instrument many years ago.
Back in 1983, brimming over with youthful – and naïve - enthusiasm to become a harpsichord maker, and juiced by the effects described by Dunning and Kruger, I built a copy of an Italian virginal.  This was a rectangular box-like instrument with the keyboard projecting from one of the long sides.  The design was based upon the research of the late, great Frank Hubbard, doyen of the 20th century harpsichord revival, and in whose workshop I later became an apprentice. 
Since I was living in South Africa at the time, I wanted to echo the aesthetic of the vernacular furniture made there during the 17th through 19th centuries, and much reproduced in more recent years.  The strap hinges were copied from the kind used on 18th century armoires.  This furniture utilizes two indigenous woods:  So-called “Stinkwood”, - Ocotea bullata, a dark brown wood similar in appearance to walnut -, and Yellow Wood, - Podocarpus Latifolius, a pale straw-colored wood -.  Regrettably, both of these magnificent tree species have been logged almost to the point of extinction.  This makes the wood difficult to source, and very expensive, especially the Stinkwood.  In South Africa it became popular to substitute a Brazilian hardwood, Imbuya - Phoebe porosa -.  Back then, in the ‘80s, it was easy to source, and that’s what I used for the virginal.  Today it comes with a hefty price tag, also logged within an inch of extinction.
Jump to Boston, 2020.  The virginal followed me when I emigrated here 37 years ago.  It still made a sound when the keys were pressed, but it suffered from the poor craftsmanship which originally created it, neglect, and the vagaries of a workshop that leaked badly when the winter wind howled from a particular direction.  This was not an instrument to resurrect and painstakingly restore.  Despite having found a lumber merchant in the U.S. who actually stocks Yellow Wood and Stinkwood, the price was eye-watering.  I decided it was time to “recycle” the virginal.  The Germans have a word for those early works of a craftsperson:  Jugendsünden - the sins of youth -, works from humble beginnings which were a starting point, but should disappear from the world to avoid embarrassment.
I had originally intended just to save the Imbuya from the lid and case sides, but as the work progressed, I decided to recycle much of the framing also, and to use all of it in the construction of a new cabinet and drawers in the Cape Dutch tradition described above.  My previous Blip shows the concept sketch.  This will be a fitting memorial to my earlier work; a retrospection, and there will be more Blips as the project progresses.