Learning Curve...

There have been a few setbacks lately. That is, of course, how you learn. Seems no matter how much you read, watch videos, seek out advice, etc. there's always something else you should have known that would have made all the difference in outcome -- had you known it at the time. I suppose that's what experience is all about; learning the hard way.

I reported on the epoxy setback with Yuri a few posts ago. Today my master carpenter friend Frank was at church and asked about progress, expecting a glowing report. When I told him about being sold the "foolproof" West epoxy system, his face fell. "The bums, they should have never sold you that! Of course, it didn't work. It has the wrong viscosity." Yep, that's what I learned the hard way. Frank is now on a personal mission to find a new source for the correct brand of epoxy -- one that holds its shape while you're working with it. Hopefully, there will be a happier report on Yuri's termite ridden keyframe in the not-too-distant future.

But back to Zelda. Each sharp got relacquered this past week. Each natural ivory keytop was taken out and polished with rottenstone (a diatomaceous limestone found originally near Tripoli) to a mellow creamy glow. The touch after polishing out, by the way, is spectacular. While I'd never want to see another elephant or walrus sacrificified just so pianos could have ivory keys, I now understand why it was the material of choice for piano makers at the turn of the century. I've never owned or played a piano before with real ivory keys. There's something about how the bone seats with skin that makes the touch of the piano more secure, more perfect. It's almost as if your fingers have an organic communication though the keys with the rest of the instrument.

At any rate, the touch is so perfect now that the keys have been cleaned I've decided to keep all the existing ivories, even with some of their imperfections. On the one hand, it's a compromise from the aspect of appearance; on the other to change them would reduce, I believe, the quality of how the instrument plays in the long run. So I carefully reglued those that were coming off and filed down a few dog-toothed gaps to prevent future mishaps. It isn't a perfect set of keys; but I think they're probably superior to any modern alternative I could use.

When I replaced all the keys in the keyframe Thursday night, there was another one of those "that wasn't in the book" minor setbacks. They looked great; but once the keyframe was back in Zelda's keybed they were consistently a quarter inch too high. Ack! My moment of glory turned into a huge "what did I do wrong this time" question mark.

I think I know. The action had settled lower into the moth-eaten felt. I replaced the backcheck felt as well as the balance rail felts which were also pretty worn looking. I'd carefully counted each paper punching below the felts and replaced them with the same number of punchings that were there previously, forgetting that over a hundred years those felts and punchings were well compressed. So effectively, by raising the backcheck felt and putting in all new (as you can see in the bottom picture) balance rail pin punchings and felts, I raised the keys too high.

My next step is to take the keyframe all apart again and reduce the number of punchings for each key in the balance rail. As a test I'd tried this out on three keys Thursday before I put everything away. It worked. So, it's just going to take a lot of patience and time.

Assuming I get the keys back to where they need to be, the next step is going to be setting the "key dip", i.e. the amount of travel each key has so they're all consistent. Then comes resetting the hammer height and blow distance to accommodate for all the changes I've made. It's something of a "give a little, take a little" process. Each adjustment you make to one part of the action affects how another part operates.

Tomorrow is Memorial Day so I'll have all day to work through correcting my mistake and moving on to the next steps. Tonight I'm just going to read and hopefully learn a bit more and start organizing all the tools and parts. Hopefully, with a good night's sleep, a bit more knowledge and some better organization my learning curve won't be so steep tomorrow.

Moths in the Knabe...

Tuesday and Wednesday evenings were focused on getting the sharp keys refurbished. Thursday is my day off from work. I awoke energized and ready to get to work on the polishing up all the ivories with rottenstone (which I did; but that's another post).

After removing all the keys from the keyframe it was obvious that moths had been at work over the years in the backcheck felt. It was so thin in many spots it's amazing Zelda wasn't clacking with every key pressed down.

Termites had destroyed much of the Stieff's keyframe and felts (still working on that one as well) so I'd already purchased a new backcheck felt for that instrument. Fortunately, it was the same size so it got used for Zelda's moth eaten felt instead.

Pianos don't respond well to the excess humidity of the tropics; but it's clear our climate comes with some other less visible enemies -- critters.

As I become more proficient with my skills; I wonder if I should create a "tropical diseases" speciality for my piano doctoring. Looks as if it may become a necessity.

Key aesthetics...

As long as I'm working on Zelda's action and have it scattered through the cottage, I figured it's time to repolish the ivories and relacquer the sharps. I started this evening with the sharps after polishing up the capstans.

Years of playing had worn away the sides of the sharp keys. Wherever a finger could come down between the sharps, the raw wood showed through -- not especially beautiful. "Sharp Black" lacquer is the answer. Thankfully, it's self leveling and doesn't leave visible brush marks. So Zelda's sharps are looking pretty good right now after several hours of careful prep and painting.

Tomorrow evening I hope to start cleaning up the ivories with brown Rottenstone (Tripoli) polish. Going to need to get a buffing wheel attachment for my drill to do that properly; but am looking forward to seeing where I can take them aesthetically.

Getting Back in the Flow with Zelda

I've been so preoccupied over the past six weeks with house guests and bringing bad boy Yuri into the house, that Zelda has been neglected. Having lost my focus on her, I've also been feeling disconnected and at sorts with myself.

Today after chuch I decided to start working on the old girl again. Working on her brought about an improvement for both of us -- clarity is a word that I could probably apply not only to Zelda; but also myself after working on her all day.

The more I learn about her I understand (in contrast to Yuri) how incredibly well she's held up over the years. All my small adjustments yield dynamic results. Unlike her alligatored outer case, which needs attention, her innards are responding for the most part like a youngster. Her issues aren't so much repair as they are regulation.

The first step I took today was reshaping the hammers. After watching the Randy Potter tape on the subject for the umpteenth time, I took the plunge -- removing old felt that had been beaten down over the years the layers came off to reveal perfectly shaped hammers under the distortion of time.

Doing the work was both aesthetically and psychologically satisfying. It took about four hours (I'm still learning) to finish all 88 hammers; but the repetition of the work -- first rough sanding to reshape then fine sanding with strips of 350 emery cloth to polish each felt -- took on an almost meditative energy. Seeing the results as I finished each hammer was equally satisfying.

After finishing up the hammers I did a bit more preliminary regulating -- dressing up the knuckles of the hammer, then lubricating them. And finally, bringing all the hammers to equal alignment by adjusting the capstans. It's all about making the keys consistent in both response to the pianist's touch as well as having a clean, brilliant sound. And, oh by the way, there are about another thirty checks and possible adjustments to make.

Getting the hammers back into shape is a major change though; one that was immediately evident when I replaced the action late this evening. Everytime I think Zelda can't sound any better, she surprises me with her response. I was thrilled with the beauty of the tone and improvement in the touch.

Next step -- leveling the keys. Hopefully, I'll be able to get a good start on that tomorrow evening after work.

No triumph this evening...

Not every step along the way is a sure one. This afternoon I went over to Frank's for my epoxy lesson. Seemed simple enough. You create a mold of the section you want to fill, line it with wax paper (which apparently is one of the few things epoxy won't bind with), mix up the resin & hardener, then start filling. He was extremely generous with his time and knowledge -- he'd even prepared some sample mold strips and gave me some clamps to get started. He also told me where to get his favorite brand of epoxy.

So after the lesson I headed over the marine supply store, making it just before it closed. The store owner seemed very knowledgeable -- so knowledgeable that he convinced me the brand that Frank likes to use (which he no longer carries) was inferior. "If you want something that's perfect everytime, you need to use the West system." Sold. Perfect everytime sounded good. So I plunked down $72 for the resin, hardener and dispensing system and came home.

After making a little dinner I got everything ready. Laid out the tools, read the instructions and made the mold that's shown in the photo above for the first section of Yuri's keyframe I wanted to fill.

There's definitely a difference between Frank's product and the West product. His epoxy was viscous and the West product is watery. So I'm thinking, that's great -- it means I can get into the tight places without having to work the epoxy in as Frank had demonstrated. However, my mold wasn't perfect. Apparently, there was one small place I'd missed which allowed the mixture to pour out onto the work surface. Fortunately, I'd prepared the workbench with heavy builder's paper just in case something went wrong. Unfortunately, something went wrong.

Clearly, I missed a memo on the "perfect everytime"!

Right now Yuri's keyframe is sitting outside. No rain is expected so it should be safe. I'll give it another try Saturday, which hopefully will give me some time to figure out what I did wrong and get over my initial disappointment. Sigh.

More damage discovered in Yuri's keyframe...

This evening I spent removing the heavy felt that supports the wippens at the back of Yuri's action. The process involves patience, a steam iron and a damp rag. Hide glue was the product of choice back in 1908. It's obviously stable for decades but some damp heat released the felt from the wood (or should I say, what was left of it.)

I'd noticed a few small holes in the felt at one end making me suspicious that termites may have been active in an area that appeared sound. Not so! The heavy felt masked three other significant areas of termite damage. At least now I have everything revealed. It still appears there's enough wood to hold and shape the epoxy "cure" which I'll begin this Thursday under Frank's tutelage.

Fixing the keyframe with the epoxy will no doubt take some time as each small section will need to be blocked out separately with wood & wax paper held in place with clamps. Epoxy, gravity, curing time and sanding will complete the process. After the keyframe is restored then I'll need to replace the termite eaten felts. Guess I'd better order those tonight -- they might arrive by the time I'm finished with the keybed.

With Yuri torn apart for the forseeable future, it looks like my aspirations last night to give him an appropriate formal portrait will be on hold for a while. I just hope Zelda isn't getting jealous from all the extra attention this damaged prodigal son is receiving.

In the long run she's sure to benefit from what I learn from Yuri. Ultimately, she's the more valuable instrument so I've been reluctant to use her as my teaching instrument to address the small number of restringing issues she has. As with his action and damaged dampers, Yuri's strings are all going to have to be removed given the rusted tuning pins and a number of broken strings he has. I have no choice. So, hopefully, by the time I get to replacing Zelda's few damaged strings I'll have mastered the skills required.

Time to dig into the Schaff supply catalog, make an order and call it a night.

Bad guess...

In this evening's mail came a new copy of the Pierce Piano Atlas, 12th Edition. It lists information on dates and manufacture of literally thousands of pianos worldwide.

I'd guessed that Yuri, the new Stieff addition to our piano household was Zelda's younger brother. In fact he predates her by two years having been built in Baltimore in 1908. Now I'm going to have to do a more dignified portrait befitting his senior status instead of all of those termite shots.

Ranger's evaluation of my appraisal skills is evident in his stare -- "bad guess"!

Termites deep in the Stieff...

When I first removed Yuri's action last Tuesday the unmistakable crunch of paper-thin wood under my fingers indicating termite damage made my stomach plummet. There was no doubt the little critters had been happily munching away; the only question was how extensive was their foraging?

After Yuri arrived at the cottage, I gave him a thorough examination. The good news was the termite activity was limited to the keyframe. The bad news is that the keyframe is the foundation for practically everything that makes a piano work. The tolerances for the key and balance rail pins are perhaps at most 1/32 of an inch and the frame itself slides into the piano's keybed with perhaps an eight of an inch to spare. It may look like a hunk of wood; but it is precision craftmanship.

Knowing that I have my plate full just learning action repair and regulating skills, I called a friend Frank Antonowich who is a master cabinet maker. The thought was that he could perhaps build a new frame to replace the old. We set an appointment for today at 3 PM for him to give me his assessment.

Again, bad news and good news. Building a new frame to the tolerances required would require getting cured hardwood that's nearly impossible to find, not to mention hours and hours of labor. Read major $$$. He's a friend; but he does this for a living, not just out of the goodness of his heart. On the other hand, he suggested that the damaged frame could be reformed out of the same type of epoxy used to repair boats and he's willing to teach me how to do it! The frame would conform to the original tolerances and the epoxy would replace the termite-damaged wood with a material even stronger than the wood. It'll be a labor of love; but that's what this adventure is all about -- learning new skills.

We set our next appointment for next Thursday at 5 PM. My homework assignment is to remove all the action and keys from the frame then dig out all the damaged wood. So for the remainder of this afternoon and early evening, I busied myself with digging out termite droppings to reveal what's left of the frame.

As I dug I was amazed first at how extensive the damage was. Some portions of the frame had only a quarter inch of good wood left. On the other hand --again, good news--the termites had given wide berth to the wood around every pin in the frame. Each is in solid wood, which means Frank's solution will work!

I'm stoked. It'll take hours; but it looks as if Yuri's first major problem is one that can be solved. Stay tuned for the Thursday update.

Zelda Has a Brother

Today I took off a half day from work to "pick up" Yuri, Zelda's new brother. He's a bit heavier than the old girl and a bit younger (though I still have to date him exactly, I'm guessing mid-1920s) and in much, much worse shape.

Once again, though, good bones -- another Baltimore baby. This time a Charles Stieff; so called during its heyday "the poor man's Steinway."

He's had a rough life. Termites have chewed through much of the keyframe, the case has been battered a lot and some feeble attempts at repairs have created more problems than the original damage. Pedals are dysfunctional. Strings are probably salvageable though all the tuning pins are rusted so everything is going to have to be taken apart and reworked. Supposedly, he was in one family in Key West for about 70 years so I'm guessing he was sitting by an open window in the salt air. Dampers, action & hammers look like they can be saved for the most part. Pinblock, most bridges (except one) and sound board are in good shape. The keytops actually look pretty good -- I'm guessing once again, but perhaps not played that much?

He's going to be a challenge. But by the time I finish with both Yuri and Zelda, I should well be on my way to establishing my repair and restoration skills.

One more concert to go this weekend (just finished singing in the Mozart Requiem last Sunday) and then I turn 100% of my non-job hours into working on the two pianos this summer. The cottage is going to become piano workshop central.

My goal is still to have Zelda ready to sing for her 100th birthday on July 24th. Yuri will, at that point, be very much a work in progress.

Obviously, there's much more to come; but I just wanted to document his first day at the cottage. Moving this 800 pound bad boy was a bit on the strenuous side. I'm exhausted and ready for a good night's sleep.