S-style · Sherwood Green.


A small workshop in Germany. One person. One guitar at a time. Ready when ready.
Nirvana got me into electric guitars when I was a teenager. My first electric guitar was a Squier Affinity Stratocaster in Olympic White. It endured countless modifications and has seen many stages with my former band. Along the way I bought, played, dismantled and upgraded many guitars — including vintage and boutique guitars.
For me this is a quiet workshop. Safety, health, and calm come first — always. The full-face respirator goes on before the dust does.
I buy air-dried wood from old stocks, some of it aged for decades — and some of it I cut myself. From very rare wood according to old specs to locally grown alternatives like plum, alder and maple, I carefully select every piece. I enjoy bringing to life what has already been there, hidden in the grain.





Routing, chambering, profiling, fretboard preparation, fret work. Each step measured before, during and after. No CNC, no jig that I haven't built or chosen myself. The patience of metalworking, applied to wood. Stains, oils, hand-rubbed shellac — all done in this workshop. Only the nitrocellulose lacquer step, when a build calls for it, goes to a partner workshop ten minutes from here, equipped with the latest environmental and safety technology.














"It will be ready when it is ready."
Two exemplary studies. One pair of 1969 Stratocasters, taken apart and measured. One pair of cabinets by the late Kerry Wright, owned, opened, and understood from the inside out. Everything I do at Torka begins with what these instruments taught me.
Same year. Same factory. Same kind of money, around twenty thousand euros each. I took both of them apart, measured every dimension, photographed every joint.
One of them plays well — it is a real player. The other does not, and probably never did.
The difference is not the old wood. Old wood is voodoo, mostly — a story we tell ourselves about why old guitars sound and feel the way they do. The real difference is in the work: how tightly the neck sits in the pocket. How the fretboard edge feels under the hand. How the lacquer aged and reacts. How the back of the neck is finished and, quite importantly, what type of pickups are used and how they are set up. These are the things I carry into every Torka build.
I considered buying a pre-CBS Strat for myself. I decided not to, and built one instead — to old specs, with the best wood and tools I could get my hands on, and the kind of patience the work demands. Right decision.
Neck pocket fit decides almost everything. A fraction of a millimetre of slop, and the guitar loses its voice.
The fretboard edge wants to be rolled. Slightly. By hand. It is the difference between a tool and an instrument.
The back of the neck should not be a slick finish. Skin and wood should know each other directly.
Tolerances on a 1969 body are not what the legend suggests. They are what good people, working carefully, can do. Nothing more.







The late Kerry Wright built some of the most musically transparent guitar cabinets ever made. Quiet legends among studio engineers and discerning players. I own originals. I have measured them — joint by joint, dimension by dimension, board thickness by board thickness.
What looks simple from the outside is, on inspection, a careful act of acoustic restraint. What you do not put inside the cabinet matters as much as what you do. Where you screw and where you glue. How the baffle sits in the frame.
The cabinets I build are not Kerry Wright cabinets. They are Torka cabinets, built to those measurements, in honour of his work — and they let me give players the cabinet voice I myself wanted.









Selected pieces from recent builds.
Each guitar carries a small nickel-silver medallion on the back of the headstock and comes with a certificate of authenticity that records the materials used, hardware, finishes, electronics and date. The medallion is engraved with my signature only when the instrument is complete, then set into the neck plate on the back. Cabinets carry a small plate on the back and come with a certificate as well. These are small details, visible for the ones who know what they have. Others will not notice.
















There is no contact form on this site, by design. If you have a guitar in mind, write directly. Tell me what you play, what you want, what you don't want, and what you are willing to wait for.
I read every message myself. I do not always say yes.
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