During a few years’ experience of making singing musical tubes in one piece, which means without sawing a didgeridoo in two and gluing the parts together, one question has been repeated countless times from different people whenever we talk about our work. After they are told about the chiseling part of the process, there is a moment of silence with an unbelieving spark in their eyes, after which the words get out:

How on earth can you possibly chisel 2 meters deep in a narrow piece of wood?

And I can answer, after watching Du chiseling various didgeridoos hours and hours, that there is something amazing about it: that it is impossible, yet doable with style and ease. If there is one job that Du is perfect for, it is chiseling.

After the first hole has been drilled or carved out and glued together, Du’s final magic work starts. If I ask him at the beginning of his work, while he just curiously looks into the didgeridoo from the lower opening, what he wants to make of it, he will probably say that there is no way to know that. He will just ask the unknown hidden creature inside the log to kindly show itself during the process. But that is not absolutely true.

I have come to know that he can somehow feel the bore in this still piece of wood with his whole body. And the more he is chiseling the more he remembers this internal empty form of a future didgeridoo and connects with it. If he feels that the shape inside is unbalanced, he is unable to find peace in himself until the instrument’s shape is found. And when he later talks about it, I get the feeling that he has been inside, like a small termite eating the flesh of a eucalyptus tree somewhere in the wilderness.

But instead of teeth, Du is armed with self-made razor-sharp super-long chisels, changing them constantly, guiding the tools with huge precision somewhere deep in the dark, his muscles working like crazy, his body getting warmer and warmer. Every now and then, he turns the instrument and checks the sound. In an instant, he feels if the music creature has arrived or more work is needed. And sometimes it happens that the creature is not coming out. I hear him wondering if it is there at all.

Maybe it has escaped with the last move?

Maybe it flew out at the very beginning?

But there is no need to ask these questions at all. Dubravko just needs to do his dance a little more, with no delay, and all of a sudden it will happen. He will blow into the didgeridoo and I will know from his smile that the creature is now tamed! It fills the room with the drone

I would even go as far as to say the magic of Duende lies in chiseling – this strange remote-controlled blind skill. The beautiful sound could not be discovered without chiseling. It would stop somewhere in the middle, not yet fully grown. The perfected chiseling technique opens up all the possibilities of trials and forms.

-written by Danka-