Who I Am

Scientist

Let’s get it straight out of the way: I am not a trained luthier. There, I said it. In fact I didn’t know anything about building basses until 2015. But let’s get back to that.

Born and raised in Germany, Australian resident since 1994, and Australian citizen since August 2020, I am a trained biologist and scientist. My PhD (Dr. rer.nat., actually) is in plant physiology, and my thesis was on plant cell walls, commonly referred to as “wood” or “timber”. Life works in mysterious ways.

In late 1990 I started a post-doctoral position in Melbourne and expanded into (plant) molecular biology. A multi-faceted career followed, and in February 2010 I started a position as Lecturer at one of the local universities. I taught introductory biology and plant science to first year students (about 700 each year), plant physiology to second year students, and plant biotechnology to third year students.

Until October 2020. That’s when I retired to focus more on building basses. So what happened in 2015?

After a workload-related break playing bass I decided to get back into it and treat myself to a new bass, having relied on a Warwick Thumb and a Sandberg Classic S2 since the early 1990s. I was most intrigued by the multi scale approach pushed (very successfully, I might add) by Dingwall, and in September 2014 decided to order a Z2 through George Ganakas at Bass Gear Direct. “No worries, that’ll be $AUD x,xxx, and 9 months wait.”

And that was the trigger to find out hands-on what it takes to build an instrument.

Michael Emmerling (a.k.a. Dr. Bass 😉)

Builder

I signed up for a bass building course run by Rob Pryke and David Searle. David in particular supported my approach (hint: not quite “traditional”) and has been an incredible and invaluable mentor ever since.

My first build was finished around the same time I received my Dingwall Z2, and I had gained a very deep appreciation of what it takes to make a bass.

More importantly I was completely hooked. Sure, it was a little slow at first, but I’ve designed and developed a number of different models that are reasonably mature while still undergoing constant tweaking to make sure they feel, play and sound as best as possible.

And so the connection from my thesis researching the early stages of cell wall (and therefore timber) synthesis to what I now consider my “serious fun time occupation” working with wood was made.

Musician

Yes, I do play bass. In fact, bass is the only instrument I (sort of) play. While I’m not too fussed about certain things (for example scale length, and even multiscale, is something I adapt to pretty much on the spot) I have always preferred low action, good ergonomics (think weight, balance, reach), a neck profile that’s reasonably flat and feels “just right” and natural finish that’s smooth and not sticky.

My instruments are designed and built according to those preferences.

Here are a few links to older and to more recent recordings. The older performances feature my Warwick and my Sandberg, newer ones are generally performed on Polaris Basses.

Slingshot - furious instrumental music:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL1ITLGJ69rk3WfMzJaS_HLbvS6cFyjCww

Prestige - polished corporate cover band:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=UUZz856HPj9iLWj-ogwX5H7A

Doubleshot of Blues - blues, more often than not with a twist:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=UUjWR3Brln6oveFQcYTYhcUw

“Polaris”

So what’s the deal with the name “Polaris”? It’s a little “convoluted” but here goes.

When I assembled my first build (see above) without hardware and electronics it neck-dived - hard. It dipped. It was a “Big Dipper”.

Having grown up in the northern hemisphere I was of course very aware of the constellation Ursa major which is colloquially known as Big Dipper. And I liked the idea of a logo that consists simply of dots. And there you have the logo.

“But wait”, I can hear those with a little astronomical knowledge say. “The North Star (or Polaris) is not actually part of this constellation but is in Ursa minor.” And of course you’re right. However, the two rightmost stars in the Big Dipper actually point towards Polaris. So there’s a little bit of symbolism: it points in the right direction but you need to put in some effort to get there (if you ever do), like me constantly thriving to make every new bass better than the last one. Ahhh, nice when nature and philosophy align.

And of course Ursa major looks better than Ursa minor and visually works (much) better with the actual name.