When I met Maury Rutch at Boro Park in Nazreth PA, at the first Martinfest, I knew immediately we would become fast friends. He had a Martin OM-28V with Jackson Browne’s autograph written with a Sharpie on the inside of the Indian rosewood back. And when he took his turn at the little open mic, he sang a lovely song written for his wife, who had given him the guitar as a present.
When he started his business a couple of years later, he asked me to perform at the grand opening of Maury’s Music, where I put on an unofficial clinic, demonstrating various Martin guitars and talking about how they differed. Afterwords I was approached and complimented by another future good friend, Tim Teel, Director of Instrument Design at C. F. Martin. And I have been paying visits to each of them ever since, grateful for the opportunity to try out so many new and delightful guitars, and share the results with all of you.
Once among the worlds’ greatest guitar shops, Mandolin Brothers in New York City may soon be shutting its doors forever.
A buyer is sought for the storied institution known as a “dream fulfillment center.”
After the death of founder Stan Jay in October 2014, the younger generation has taken on efforts to revitalize the venerable shop in Staten Island, where George Harrison wandered in one day to buy a ukulele some twenty years after Joni Mitchell wrote a song about buying a mandolin there. But Stan told me hers was actually a mandocello.
Unfortunately, neither of Stan’s children nor his widow have the expertise in fine fretted instruments that Stan did. And with the economy far from recovered, they have come to the conclusion that Mandolin Brothers will have to cease operations unless they can find someone to buy the business.
I know that Rudy Pensa of that other NYC institution, Rudy’s Music, had paid the family a visit recently. I assumed it was concerning just such a purchase, either of the entire business, or some of their existing stock should they close their doors. It would difficult to find a better, more passionate guitar man as Rudy, who not only sells guitars but builds them for world-class players like Mark Knopfler.
But it would be better yet if there was a way to keep this musical ark afloat. The first public notice of the the issues facing the Jay family appeared at the Mandolin Cafe website in October and a print article appeared in the November 2 issue of Crain’s New York Business publicly announcing the goal of finding a buyer.
The cultural fabric of New York City is constantly changing with the only surety being nothing lasts forever, except dreams and memories. Mandolin Brothers fulfilled many of the former and created many more of the other.
I can only wish for Bea Jay and her children Eric and Alison to have all their hard work pay off for them. But regardless of the outcome, Stan’s legacy remains in the hearts and hands of musicians the world over, even if his very special shop is retired to history.
Stan Jay, founder of Mandolin Brothers on Staten Island, died today after a long fight with a rare form of Lymphoma. He was 71.
A long time friend of mine, and of countless lovers of fine stringed instruments, Stan was a radiant being who accurately proclaimed the focus of his life’s work as a “dream fulfillment center.” He will be missed forever.
It is very sad news. Stan had recently been moved from the hospital to a nursing home and reports from the family seemed encouraging. So I had hoped for the best.
He spent his life making people very, very happy. And many of them were musicians who went out and made countless others very, very happy.
I was unaware of Stan’s life had come to an end, as I attended the gala benefit dinner for the New York Youth Symphony this evening in Manhattan.
The Jazz orchestra arm of the organization performed before and after dinner. The guitarist for this night of big band jazz was playing a Gibson with a double cutaway, a 336, but maybe a 335. Stan would have known at first sight.
As ever it was inspiring to hear such amazing music from teenagers who are yet years away from the full potential that shall be revealed in their adult careers. And it is of some comfort to know that the future of great music is in such good, capable hands, now that one who so dedicated themselves to music is no longer here to play his part and the gift of music as he had with all those grateful recipients of his time, enthusiasm, wisdom and talents.
I bought my first new guitar from Stan Jay. And the most recent guitar that I bought from a shop, a custom Martin OM, was also sold to me by Stan.
The guitar I grew up playing was given to me by my brother. It was an Asian knock off of a Martin 000-18, won shooting pool. But at Mandolin Brothers I could walk amongst a forest of “real” guitars, and dream away entire Saturdays playing Martin, Collings, Santa Cruz, Gibson, Taylor, Gretch, Goodall, Weissenborn, D’Angelico and many more.
I remember clearly how he allowed me to haunt the shop for months, with that “someday I’ll afford one of these” look in my eyes. And one day I came in and bought a brand new Martin Custom 15, the first of many purchases from Mandolin Brothers.
“Play anything you want!” is all he would say to shy newcomers used to being scolded if they dared pick up a guitar without a shopkeeper’s permission. And if the register was slow, Stan would put on his thumb pick and play along with his customers, that squinty-eyed grin and sly chuckle accompanying every joke, pun, or clever remark, often arising from his own quick, jovial sense of humor.
I can see his Cheshire cat grin right now, as the second or third implication of some clever turn of words sends him into deeply satisfying chuckles of mirth and his eyes glitter with tears.
I went on to hone my guitar reviewing at Mandolin Brothers, where I would indeed play anything I wanted, and then would write up details of various guitars for the readers of Acoustic Guitar Magazine’s on-line forum, and eventually the Unofficial Martin Guitar forum. In later years, when I was unable to get out to Mandolin Brothers as often as I once did, I would encourage anyone shopping for guitars to get out to Stan’s, where the selection and prices are the best in New York City.
For the past dozen Augusts, Mandolin Brothers became an annual stop for pilgrims returning from Martinfest in Pennsylvania, both local residents and those heading to various airports on their way home. If they thought they had their fill of playing great guitars, or their hands too sore after marathon Martinfest jam sessions, five minutes in that dream fulfillment center brought rejuvenation and delight, and often yet another guitar purchase. Stan would always take time out to hear the latest news, share his latest joke, and play a tune or two.
I had to miss the August trip this year, so it has been some months since I had last seen Stan, at the reception for the early American guitar exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where he looked his old self. He had regained a lot of weight that had been noticeably lost during his earlier struggle with MSL.
It has been my sincere hope that it was all behind him now. It turns out it had come out of remission, and Stan lost the fight earlier today.
Stan Jay certainly did his part and more to make the world a better place and those of us who were allowed to know him will remain enriched by the privilege.