Peter Prier never set out to populate the state with violin-makers. In 1960, when he came to Utah from Germany, he only dreamed of making instruments. For five years he worked for the man who sponsored his emigration, Wesley Pearce of Pearce Music. Then Prier opened his own shop.
It wasn't long before his dream grew. Several young men came to him, asking to learn his craft. Prier understood their longing. When he was their age, he says, he also sought "the satisfaction of the well-made things."So Prier began to plan a school. He decided to base the curriculum on what he studied in the violin-making school in Mittenwald, Germany. His students would not only learn about wood and carving and varnish but would study drawing and the history of instruments, and take music lessons and play in a school orchestra every Friday afternoon.
In 1972, Prier accepted his first three students and opened a school on Salt Lake's 200 South. At the time, his school was one of only four such schools in the world -- the others being the Mittenwald school and two Italian schools.
This morning, 27 years later, Prier sits at his bench in the shop above the Violin Making School of America. Light from a south-facing window floods the tidy room. The light in Utah is fabulous for violin-making, he says. "Moisture creates distortions." Here, in this high dry valley, he has built 214 instruments.
Last month, five more students graduated from the school. In all, Prier has produced 142 graduates who have built, during their time at his school, more than 1,100 instruments.
As for the graduates, most have long since left the state -- finding work in Europe, Asia or in large U.S. cities. However, at least a dozen Prier graduates are still around Utah, still making violins.
In short, because of Prier, this valley probably has more violin-makers per capita than any place in the world. That's Gary Vessel's guess, anyway. Vessel, who owns a shop himself, is a 1988 graduate of the Violin Making School of America. He says Utah is known, now, by people who play.
Judd Sheranian, a violinist with the Utah Symphony, quotes an even-more-famous violinist, Pinchas Zuckerman. Zuckerman calls Salt Lake "Cremona West." (Cremona, Italy, is the town where Stradivarius had a shop, a town where for centuries, the world's finest violins have been made.)
Utah's reputation will grow further next fall when Prier's 30-year-old son, Paul, starts a bow-making school. Master archetier Benoit Rolland will come from France to head the school. Paul Prier will assist Rolland. Seven students have been selected for the first class.
For local musicians like Sheranian, there is much to be said for living in close proximity to a number of internationally known violin-makers -- and soon, bow-makers. Sheranian bought his last violin from John Young, a Prier graduate. Its sound, Sheranian says, is better than the valuable antique he was using before.
Sheranian also bought his son a violin made in Peter Prier's school. Violins made as student projects don't have the maker's name inside -- so they won't attain great value. Still, they can be a good buy for a young violinist, he says.
During their course of study, which takes from three to four years (depending on how much the student likes to ski) students make six to eight violins, a viola and a cello. They donate their first and last products to the school.
But school is only the first step, points out Vessel. New graduates must go on to learn repair. So many good instruments have been ruined by improper repair, Vessel notes. After he graduated, he worked in a shop in Germany, then one in Seattle -- before coming back to Salt Lake to set up his own shop.
It's a small world for Utah violin-makers. Sometimes, too small. There's a lot of competition here, the makers all agree.
Fortunately, he has been able to create a niche for himself, Vessel says. His latest specialty is reproductions of antique instruments. He also does repair, and 50 percent to 70 percent of his yearly income comes from being a musical instrument dealer.
In fact, he says, everyone who opens a violin-making shop soon becomes a dealer -- because customers want you to take their current violin as a trade-in. A violin-maker ends up appraising and reselling.
Most Utah violin-makers buy and sell instruments -- their own and others' -- all over the country. They could, in theory, live anywhere. (In fact, one local violin-maker, Paul Hart, recently moved to Mt. Pleasant, Sanpete County.)
That's why, in one sense, it doesn't matter how many violin-makers live on the Wasatch Front. They can do business long distance. In another sense, close proximity can be difficult. Vessel says he and Peter Prier are no longer friendly, since a disagreement about a repair made by someone in Peter Prier's shop.
Peter Prier says he's careful to never say anything negative about former students. When customers ask his opinion of his former students' work, Peter Prier explains what to look for when buying. For a fee, Peter Prier will evaluate a given instrument. His philosophy: "Let the customer decide."
Students who enroll in the bow-making school will sign a noncompetitive clause, promising not to open a shop within a 100-mile radius for at least five years after they graduate. Paul is smarter than he was, Peter Prier says. When Peter Prier wrote a noncompetitive clause for the violin-making school, he only asked for a two-year grace period.
If Peter Prier doesn't criticize his former-students-turned-competitors, he also doesn't fear them. "Many of them are very fine. I give them credit. But I have more knowledge than the other guys because I've been around longer."
Peter Prier's violins sell for $12,000 to $14,000, which is above the mid-price for a modern, hand-made violin. His violas and cellos sell for more.
Now, at 57, Peter Prier finds he is still drawn to the craft. As the years go by, he cares less for the "moving paper around," the business administration. Anyway, his shop and school are running well, he says. His son is training to take over.
He recently told his staff to treat him as if he were on sabbatical. He'll teach some classes when school opens again, in the fall. But he wants to spend the summer at his workbench.
Peter Prier's shop manager, Conrad Dunn, says Peter Prier could make six or more instruments a year, if he worked full-time. But Peter Prier avoids talk of numbers. "There is a caution about numbered instruments. It can become a hurried execution. I'd rather say, 'When I am satisfied with an instrument, my customer is usually satisfied.' "
There's a waiting list for Peter Prier's hand-made violins, violas or cellos. So he feels compelled to be at his bench. It is also where he's happiest.
Now, nearly 40 years after he came to Utah, Peter Prier says he still doesn't speak English as well as he'd like. Talking about his craft, he grows impatient with the limits of language. He says the way he communicates best with the world is to make violins.