In fact, building guitars wasn't at all Markku Henneken's original aim in life. He did play the guitar, but he was planning to become a photographer when he happened to hear of an instrument maker's school in a small town in the southwest of Finland. It was a three-year training course, and Henneken went through the first year dubiously (theme: building simple folk instruments) and was bored in the second (electric instruments). But in the third course (archtop electric guitars) some enjoyment was there, because it has more to do with real craftsmanship with wood: “Although I'd enjoyed it at school, I'd never thought of earning a living with anything like that - in Finland, the land of the timber industry, woodwork doesn't have a good image: it usually means an industrial, highly mechanized occupation.”

Henneken's enjoyment of his training increased again in the next course (flattop acoustic guitar), where fine handwork in wood had more influence on the tone. But he really caught the bug in the most ambitious, final course: building an acoustic archtop not only made an unexpected impression on him, but also exceeded all expectations in terms of the result: “Mine came out so well - nearly everybody fell in love with it! And I also found that it sounded rather like a Benedetto...”. Bob Benedetto's guitars still set the standard for Markku; in his workshop stands the book in which the high priest of the modern archtop guitar shows in detail how to build a dream instrument - although Markku self-confidently modified the dimensions even in his first attempt, resulting in the typical, more bulbous shape of his guitars. His approach to setting up shop on his own was careful: “Here in Finland, that's considered fairly risky, and when it's something so specialized like making guitars, as fatal: the poor location, the lack of customers - with only five million Finns...”

The Henneken archtops appeared as it were from nowhere at the Osnabrück Open Strings Festival in May 1998 - in colours of Caribbean saturation and joy, a garish stain on the landscape for the purists. "But that was the only criticism," remembers the luthier. “At least the wild colours brought the people to us, but it was the ones in conventional tones that the customers picked up.”

Even so, the flamboyant appearance was more than just an advertising gimmick. For one thing, Markku Henneken is inspired by “The Blue Guitar”, a legendary book for archtop lovers, and that was one reason why he painted his first one bottle green. But it wasn't so much the look of the blue archtop project as the new developments in detail which appealed to the young Finn's spirit most: “I'm always afraid that archtop development could come to a self-satisfied standstill and then appear fossilized.”

The instrument sales in 1998 in Osnabrück paid for the hotel and the journey home - afterwards, many observers were sure that the relaxed outsider would soon disappear from the scene. But this rather hippy-like young man has always been underestimated - his ability to get by on little; his down-to-earthness as well as his deep love a nature behind the Monty Python humour, and his tenacity (“Building archtop guitars at the end of the world is a challenge as well”) were overlooked just as much as the composure, discipline and seriousness that this lanky, long-haired guy brings to his work. In the meantime the excellent value for money of Henneken Archtops has been recognized by some astonished competitors, and Markku himself can assess his perspectives calmly and clearly “There is growing worldwide recognition of the fact that a guitar that's been handmade in a small workshop and tailored to the individual wishes of the customer is fundamentally better able to fulfill the requirements than a factory-made guitar." 

It's not Markku Henneken's intention to criticize the big guitar companies: “Investment in computerized shaping machines, for example, is only worthwhile for mass production. And this in turn can only be economical if you want to produce thousands of identical guitars. The guitars produced in this way are absolutely OK and maybe perfect from the technical point of view. But there are so many variables in a guitar that could be individually tailored for a particular customer, so that for a customer with more individual requirements the mass-produced instruments are just 'OK', and so - for him - not 'perfect'. In short: large companies serve the average customer, individual luthiers serve the more individual customers.”

He sees his own work in the guitar high-end just as soberly. Anyone watching Markku building an archtop will see no secret tricks - and if they ask, they'll receive the astonishing answer: “Building guitars is a schizophrenic activity. In order to be successful, you have to acquire the image of a miracle worker. But essentially there are no miracles, no tricks, no secrets. In fact it's just a question of rather boring, step-by-step, patient, very exact hard work, which in turn requires good and unspectacular preparation.” Markku's suitability for this is confirmed, as it were through the back door, by his mother-in-law, who has just converted a former school to an inn: she wouldn't even let him make a staircase - with his exactness he'd need half a year just to cut the wood to size. And it's precisely for the discovery of this exactness that Markku needs the distraction-free peacefulness at the end of the world. On a Saturday evening he drives 150 km through the hilly landscape of of forests, rocks and lakes, in an indescribable light, to one of the more than 50 jazz festivals in the Finnish summer, to bring the new archtop to a young guitarist, who immediately uses it for a live show and doesn't want to put it down again. Markku sees his basis in such close relationships with his customers: “It's the guitarist himself who makes the miracles. But an instrument can motivate him through its playability and tone. And to really be inspired when playing, he must have a love affair with the instrument. And a luthier can see to that. He can give the customer exactly what he wants - a tailor-made lover.”

In practice these thoughts are confirmed convincingly. Henneken Archtops are available in six standard models - Karelia (acoustic basic model), Finlandia (an electric with a thinner body), Evolution (with oval sound hole), Concerto (nylon string), Orchestra (a 12-string) and Royale (the flagship: a top-class acoustic-electric archtop for 3300 Euro, wonderful to play and with an absolutely impressive acoustic tone). But it's rare for a standard model to leave the workshop (which Markku Henneken rarely got out of in winter 2000/2001, even on public holidays - because, amongst other things, the Frankfurt Music Show was coming up). Nearly every Henneken is a custom built, and since in these circumstances any kind of automatic routine has little chance of getting established, there's a corresponding delay in the realization of the vast number of ideas for the further development of the archtop that Markku says he has at the back of his mind.

Henneken Archtops wants to present something unexpected at every show. He has already astonished with the nylon string archtop, which jazzers are just beginning to discover, and with a 12-string archtop, which at least in his workshop sounds no worse than the excellent 12-strings of the virtuosi - and must still have further potential. A 7-string that should appear in early 2001 is eagerly awaited - in fact, this author confesses freely that he's already obsessed with it. Or is that just because of the light of the Finland summer?