A Path From Mean Streets
By Gerald Jackson
The son of an amateur photographer father and a mother who sang jazz in a big-band, Jol Dantzig’s artistic path was set early in life. His parent’s third floor apartment on Chicago’s North side provided inspiration daily. Dantzig’s childhood was spent surrounded by images, music and a home full of tools—an eclectic mix of art and 1950s technology. “My father had a wide collection of influences,” Dantzig says. “He was a musician and an artist, but he loved to build stuff. We had a makeshift workshop on our back porch landing where I learned how to use tools. His biggest joy was taking me to sports car races and explaining how the cars worked.” The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree—Dantzig’s mother was a reader of literature who cherished books and music. “We never talked about the kind of stuff our neighbors were interested in,” Dantzig says of his decidedly working-class neighborhood. “But I sure learned about the other stuff on the street.”
Dantzig’s entrepreneurial life began at age twelve when he began production of fabricated slot-car chassis for sale at local hobby stores. Increasing sales provided him with the motivation (and the cash) to create tooling and fixtures for production—a talent called upon throughout his career. Model-making skills such as airbrush and fine assembly came naturally to Dantzig. In school he excelled at mechanical drawing, art and photography. This was a time when schools still had auto shop classes and Dantzig pursued this as well. His love of motorsports led to competition karting and later in life, sports car racing—no great surprise.
A parallel thread in Dantzig’s early years was music, and in grade school his parents signed him up for violin lessons. Painfully shy, he found playing an instrument gave him a way to speak through music. “I literally learned how to fight to protect that violin from tough kids,” Dantzig recalls. “When they saw I wouldn’t back down, they left me alone.” Soon after, Dantzig was captivated by another sound—electric rock guitar. “I begged my parents to get me one,” he remembers. “My dad finally caved in.” It was a time when the “electric” guitar was becoming a badge of honor, and it provided a way to fit into the social fabric of his teenage years. “It was loud, fast and sexy, I was hooked” Dantzig says. He had truly found his calling.
Concurrently, Dantzig’s need for speed combined with mechanical curiosity led to modifying his musical equipment. At an age when most kids were picking up the guitar for the first time, Dantzig was taking his apart. Dantzig remembers it fondly. “I’ll fix your guitar,” he’d tell friends. “I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was sure I’d figure it out—and I did.” His growing expertise in demand, he established a sound-system and amplifier rental and repair company—all by the age of nineteen. “I loved the music and the gear,” Dantzig recalls of those early days. “I never drew a line between my interests.”
After high school Dantzig attended the School of the Art Institute in Chicago where he studied photography and design. “It was easy to burn the candle at both ends back then,” he says. “Most of my business was evenings and weekends.” As time went on, Dantzig played regionally as a professional musician. “My connections through my sound business landed me work as a bassist, and that in turn helped find more clients for my rental company.” Dantzig viewed the expression of emotion through music, visual arts and the wrenching on equipment as completely and seamlessly connected. This philosophy and combination of skills would continue to prove useful.
In the early 1970s Dantzig parlayed his knowledge of musical instruments into the business of buying, trading and selling used guitars—fixing and restoring as necessary. A chance meeting with fellow traders Craig Hendee and Paul Hamer led to Dantzig becoming their partner in Northern Prairie Music, one of the country’s first shops selling “vintage” instruments to collectors and rock’s top musicians. “Hendee was a ruthless wheeler-dealer, Dantzig recounts. “We learned the ropes watching this guy, but I was more interested in the guitars.” Eventually, Hendee’s interest waned and he moved on, essentially leaving the fledgling business to Dantzig and Hamer.
During this time Dantzig’s repair skills were honed further by repairman and mentor, John Montgomery. “Monty was a crusty old salt,” Dantzig says fondly. “He worked alone in his basement, smoking and drinking bourbon, but he sure knew his stuff.” Montgomery spent time showing Dantzig secrets of instrument repair—bonding on their mutual love of tools and handcraft. Dantzig says of those days. “I knew that if I just shut up and listened, he’d teach me more than if I tried to prove how much I knew.” This collaboration was a fruitful situation as it would prove to be the basis for a new chapter in both of their lives.
By 1973 Dantzig convinced Montgomery to help him build a custom bass—effectively launching Dantzig’s career as a guitar designer and builder. The interest generated by the bass did not go unnoticed by Dantzig. “The other musicians I met would always ask me about that bass,” Dantzig recalls with a laugh. “They humored me about my music, but I could tell the bass was a hit.” From this experience, Dantzig convinced his partners—Hamer, Montgomery and apprentice James Walker—to include instrument construction in their repertoire of services at Northern Prairie Music. “I thought that making guitars was the way to go,” he says. “When you just sell other people’s stuff—well, anybody can do that.” The decision to pursue building was made, and the new company was dubbed Hamer Guitars. Dantzig recalls this decision with humor today. “I thought it was a good name for a guitar,” Dantzig recalls. “If I had known better, I would have seen the obvious and suggested something that reflected the whole band instead of the front man.” As it was, Hamer Guitars became one of the first “boutique” electric guitar companies—popularizing the boutique guitar concept as an alternative to vintage instruments.
As the company experienced growing pains, the young entrepreneurs couldn’t come to a consensus on what direction to take, resulting in a series of personnel shakeups. “One partner was intent on building inexpensive private-label instruments for a big box store,” Dantzig says with a laugh today. “Had we gone ahead it might have generated some revenue, but I knew it was brand suicide.” It proved to be a pivotal point for the company. “I wasn’t in it for the money,” he continues. “I could have walked away then.” After fifteen hard years, the remaining partners sold the business in 1988 to music giant Kaman Music, and Dantzig was retained as Director of Design.
After five years, in 1993, Dantzig decided to relocate to northern California to start the Dantzig Design Group, a design and concept development firm. “I’d had enough drama,” he recalls. “I needed perspective. Things were finally going pretty well, so it seemed like a really good time to shove off.” With Dantzig’s departure there were no original founders left; for many of the Hamer faithful, the dream was over.
In California, Dantzig’s clients included publishers like Jossey-Bass and Time Warner, as well as musical instrument companies Mesa Boogie, Nady Systems, Ovation, Gretsch, Gibson and EMG Pickups. Keeping in the spirit of “do what you love,” Dantzig expanded his company to include motorsports and automotive clients Racer’s Group, Oakley, Marin Motorsports and Porsche North America. California was good for Dantzig, and though his business struggled initially, things began to pick up after a few years. “I loved it there,” he says of Marin County. “I thought of it as my home, where I’d stay forever.” But, it wasn’t to be.
In 1997, Dantzig was contracted by Kaman to engineer Hamer’s move to New Hartford, Connecticut in order to consolidate operations with their other music companies. Dantzig’s task included the logistics of moving and the design of a new workspace as well as the restructuring of the product line. “I figured I’d be there about six to twelve months,” Dantzig says. “It was a tougher job than I’d bargained for.” Slowly, Dantzig went about rebuilding the Hamer product. By 2007 the reconfigured shop had reached an all-time high custom-order mark. Record orders of high-dollar guitars pointed to a rosy future for the reborn brand. Despite doubt at the parent company, Hamer was finally reclaiming its glory. But once again, change was on the horizon.
Dantzig remained as Director of Design and facilities manager until Kaman was acquired by Fender Musical Instruments in 2008. During this time Dantzig studied “lean” manufacturing under the tutelage of world renowned Kaizen practitioners Yoshihisa Doi and Hajime Oba. Dantzig was involved with initiatives for three Fender manufacturing facilities including Ensenada, Mexico and the Custom Shop in Corona, California. “It was an unbelievable learning experience,” Dantzig recounts. “Something I couldn’t have paid for.” But soon, the corporate life became too constraining. “I was reminded that as great as the people can be, large organizations have a life of their own.” Once again, Dantzig found the opportunity to move on.
After leaving Fender in early 2010 Dantzig formed Jol Dantzig Guitar Design in order to continue with his unique vision for musical instrument design and construction. In an ironic twist of fate, Dantzig is back to hands-on building, and says that it feels good to be in charge of his own destiny again. Even though the game is much the same, Dantzig sees it as a reward as much as anything. “Now my name is on the headstock,” Dantzig says with the enthusiasm of a twenty-year-old. “It just feels like I’ve walked through a door onto a brand new path.”
