A young person creating music for the first time is a delicate and magical thing. It’s one of the first times that a kid feels like they are in control of something, and they only want to improve and be able to perform the way they are meant to. But what happens when one of those instruments breaks or needs repair? In Ben Proudfoot and Kris Bowers’ curious, spry, and winning documentary short, The Last Repair Shop, we meet just a handful of instrument doctors whose passion for music is infectious, and most importantly, vital.
Throughout this film, I kept joking with myself that I could see a trumpet or cello being rushed into a hospital whenever it lost a button or the neck broke. Instruments can be an extension of ourselves, so leaving behind loves ones in a waiting room feels like a real thing when dealing with an ailing piece of musical equipment. Learning the piano or violin doesn’t just teach us, it helps us reveal things to ourselves, and it can aid in our coming-of-age.
Los Angeles is one of the last cities in America that provides freely repaired musical instruments to schoolchildren, and it has done so since 1959.
Proudfoot and Bowers’ film not only introduces us to artisans whose personal lives brought them to this warehouse but also to students whose passion for music is only beginning. We first meet Dana who specializes in strings and then to Paty (brass), Duane (woodwinds), and Steve (piano). Proudfoot’s films (including the Oscar-winning The Queen of Basketball) never shy away from filling the frame with his subjects’ faces, but Repair has an elegant rhythm to how he and Bowers bring in each person. They first introduce a student and then the artisan who specializes in their instrument, and everything is so balanced and never rushed. These interviews are packed with emotional confessions and stories but there is room to breathe to show respect to each person. It’s clear that Bowers’ experience as a musician influences his work in terms of pacing.
The joints of an instrument might ache, and I never thought that there would be someone, like a doctor, who specializes in its upkeep and restoration. With art programs being questioned or gutted across America, Proudfoot and Bowers showcase individuals who believe in education and the tenacity of youth. There is something quite romantic about seeing these artists bent over their tables, brows furrowed, their eyes concentrating on something that truly matters to them.
When you begin a relationship with music, it never goes away. It can evolve over time or you can walk away from it–but it remains alive inside you whether you know it or not. The Last Repair Shop taps into the exuberance of discovering that as a kid but also not wanting to let it go as an adult. It speaks to our humanity and highlights how important the arts are to our development, growth, and survival.
