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.

Mindful of my body...

My friend George Fontana once remarked "this getting old ain't for sissies".

Last night I was acutely reminded of that as I embarked on "Exercises for the Independence of the Fingers". (Time to get back to playing seriously as well as tuning.) Movements I could execute effortlessly in my 20s were stessful. After less than fifteen minutes my hands were so racked with pain I no longer could move them.

With that pain came the realization I'm just going to have to be more patient and work even harder to gain back the physical strength and agility I once had. But I'm determined to play Scriabin once again -- and play his exquisite music even better than I did before.

With age also comes understanding. Six sharps are no longer a problem, but patience is. Our challenge is to remember each moment as a gift and bless the body we do have. It's so easy to focus on the pain; yet it's our attitude toward the pain that makes the difference -- whether we give into it or grow through it.

Thich Nhat Hanh provides a different kind of exercise to help with the mental side of the ageing process.

There are so many things that can provide us with peace. Next time you take a shower or a bath, I suggest you hold your big toes in mindfulness. We pay attention to everything except our toes. When we hold our toes in mindfulness and smile at them, we will find that our bodies have been very kind to us. We know that any cell in our toes can turn cancerous, but our toes have been behaving very well, avoiding that kind of problem. Yet, we have not been nice to them at all. These kinds of practices can bring us happiness.

Well, it's time to go get a shower then off to work -- perhaps with a different attitude.

Ranger's take on flow...

My cat Ranger's accuracy for predicting the alarm clock's cheerful greeting is (usually) within nano-seconds. The first thing I see each morning are a set of inquisitive eyes ready to begin the day's adventure -- at least until the next nap. If I don't make my exit from under the covers quickly enough I'm then gently reminded by paws kneading my chest there are some priorities that need attending. Food for cats now, food for thought later.

With that need met, he then proceeds to instruct me about how to enjoy the day. Every object he encounters in the room is a source of awe or a potential playmate. The laundry basket is filled with wonders -- if only they can be extracted. The spot on the floor I overlooked when cleaning needs some investigation -- pounce. The ball left next to the stove is clearly misplaced. A new game -- leap and roll. And finally, ready for the next nap, the blanket on the ottoman must be arranged precisely.

Each encounter is a study in absolute concentration -- then with mission accomplished he moves on. The joy with which he approaches each adventure of the morning is a reminder that true treasure lies in the ability to seize each moment of life we're afforded. In some ways there really isn't a lot more we need to know.

Tuning as flow...

One of my classmates at the University of Chicago Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi wrote what's become an important book for behavioral scientists, organizational consultants and top athletes entitled Flow. As I perused Amazon books so I could remember how to spell his name it appears he's expanded recently on the original with another entitled Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience (P.S.) I suspect he now lives what he so aptly describes through his books.

Though I knew him well before he wrote the book I remember talking about the idea in our small seminar of eight led by anthropologist Victor Turner. Turner had this notion that we human beings learn most and are at our best when we become caught in "in between" places which he referred to as "liminal space".

I think what Mihaly did was expand the idea by adding the notion of time ... that we can create for ourselves an ongoing experience of "best effort" when we become so focused in the moment that time no longer is relevant, i.e we are as the common phrase goes "in the flow of things."

In essence, flow is what we experience when we're so in love with what we're doing that effort become effortless and time no longer moves. It's a moment of transcendance when we are closest to who we really are.

Recently, I've begun to have this experience in the time I spend tuning Zelda and playing her keys afterward. And the feeling sometimes moves forward through my other daily activities. I'll look up in the sky and the silhouetted palm tree isn't just a tree; but a glowing being. It can happen anywhere, anytime; but it's grounded in an act of love.

Csikszentmihalyi describes what the experience is and by implication how we can create it. Once we love an activity enough -- writing, performing on stage, singing, painting bookmarks, tuning a piano, whatever it may be for each of us -- we are able to experience an echo of the great creative act that has given life to us all.

In these transcendant moments our hearts open, our spirits soar and our imaginations fly unfettered. In these moments we experience the essence of abundance -- we come to know who we are. I suspect it may be the closest any of us can get to God.