Beginning Tuner's Worst Nightmare...

So, for the last couple of months I've been taking on some tuning clients. I've had some great pianos to tune and some real clunkers, e.g. the piano that was last tuned BEFORE it sat in the floodwaters of Wilma. (that's another blog entry sometime in the future)
But even the Wilma piano did not bring out the sweats like today's experience.

This story begins three days ago when I got a call from a new pianist/organist/oboist in Key West, Linda Sparks. She's an incredible talent, just recently moved here from Atlanta. She called to say she was putting together a new monthly concert series at a little-known jewel of a church in Key West, St. Peter's on Center Street. Most folks don't even know it exists; but it's a classic turn-of-the-century high roofed Episcopalian church, complete with incense, 25 parishoners, a great organ and a fabulous grand piano.

Her baritone for the concert had called in sick so she needed a last-minute substitute. Even though the two pieces Bach's "Sheep May Safely Graze" auf Deutsch and a setting of "Little Lamb Who Made Thee?" by Ralph Vaughn Williams with oboe deserve at least a few weeks' practice, my ego said 'yes' and we scheduled a Friday eve rehearsal. I stumbled through the baritione solos; but knew I could do it (did I mention Linda is an incredible accompanist and knows how to cover for a singer's egregious errors?) with a little help from above (and from Linda). But during the rehearsal it became obvious the piano was slightly out of tune. So, ego taking over again, I volunteered to clean up the unisons before the concert. Unisons, no biggie! Piano tuning 101. At least I have that part down pat already.

Saturday I was tuning some other pianos; so I told her I'd be over after the morning worship service to work on the grand.

She and I moved the grand into position for the concert --- we tried out a couple of places; so we were rolling it back and forth in front of the church. Little did we know we were also slowly dislodging some cellunoids that are part of this particular piano's "Piano Disc" unit, an elaborate electronic system that allows the piano to play from a CD.

So, I took about an hour and cleaned up all the unisons -- sounded great UNTIL I started running scales to see if I'd missed anything. EVERYTHING above F69 would not play. And I didn't know why. I hadn't touched anything in the action. It was at this point I started sweating profusely. She was playing a Liszt voluntary which used all those notes -- A LOT!!!!! -- to close the concert.

I went home to change clothes and decided all I could do was to call. It's exactly 1 1/2 hours before the concert is due to start.

Me: "Linda, errr, there's a problem."
Linda: "Ohh?"
Me: "Do you have a backup number to close the concert?"
Linda: "No, I've only worked three weeks to be get this piece up to performance level. I don't have anything else."
Me: "Ohh."
Linda: "So, what's the problem?"
Me: "Err, nothing above F69 plays anymore."
Linda: ...silence...
Me: ...silence...
Linda: "let me give you a phone number. His name is Silas and he's one of the top piano technicians in Atlanta. He can talk you through it."

I write down the phone number, change clothes (not that it matters anymore since sweat is pouring off me) and go back to St. Peter's with all my tuning gear.

I call Silas and describe the piano and what we'd done. When I mention the words "Piano Disc" he knows exactly what's happened. Apparently, there are heavy solenoid units that sit on top of the action which can get dislodged when you move the piano, thereby rendering those keys useless.

OK, what do I do? It's now 70 minutes before the concert is due to start.

He talks me through two or three options. I told him I'd call him back if they worked. THEY DIDN'T. I call him back. The next option involves removing the action from the piano (more sweat) and reseating the keys. I try that! IT WORKS! I put the fallboard, key blocks, etc. back in place.

Linda walks in. It's now 60 minutes before the concert. She's lovely in a mauve gown, just about the color I'm turning. I'm feeling relieved; so decide to show her that the problem is solved. IT DOESN'T WORK!!!! AIEEE. So I take the action back out of the piano and start all over again. Did I mention the clock is ticking?
I go through all the same steps Silas has  told me to try out. And, this time it works! THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU.  But there wasn't even time to put the fallboard back in place.

Different mind set...calm ... "Sheep May Safely Graze" ...Bach....

I didn't even have time to sweat about that. We ran through the piece a couple of times with the flute players. But didn't have time to run through the Vaughn Williams as people were beginning to show up for the concert. And then we were on.

I keep staring at the keyboard as the priest intones his blessing on the people and pups gathered for the St. Francis blessing. "Will it hold? Will it hold? Will it hold?" We got through the first two numbers. Flutes sounded great. I was on another planet as I was singing; but people came up afterwards and said I sounded great. "Fine baritone you have. Why, you didn't even need a microphone."

All I could keep thinking was "will it hold?" Then Linda began the Liszt.

The piano's tone was crystalline. The action was perfect. Linda was fabulous. I was now not only sweating, but crying. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU.

This is the stuff that isn't even in the advanced piano technician's manual. Thank goodness there was an angel in Atlanta -- Silas -- who knew how to talk me through. He saved the concert.

Balancing the three-legged stool...

It's been something of a whirlwind of activity over the last couple of months. I've broken my "no more photography until I finish my piano technician coursework" rule three times, taken on several new piano tuning and repair assignments, have started editing the photos for two new Web sites, am in the process of rebooting an old Web site for which I'm learning totally new software, traveled a couple of weekends, participated in a succesful group show at a gallery called "Art 612", hosted several out-of-town guests, kept my volunteer activities going at church plus managed the day job several weeks by myself while the owners were on vacation. Needless to say, I haven't made much time for posting here.


Today is different. After spending a wonderful weekend with my friend and former model Josh Kole, I drove him to the airport for the 1 PM flight out of Key West. I came home to catch up on two weeks of laundry just as the thunderstorms started. My cat Ranger is hiding in the cupboard under the bathroom vanity (he despises thunderstorms) so there are relatively few distractions other than the occasional clap of thunder and the drumming of rain on the tin roof. It's a good evening for reflection.

The three photography diversions have reminded me that this really is a passion I can't give up. My expectations for anything commercially lucrative are still relatively low. I'm happy just to have the opportunity to work with incredible people who are creative and willing to take risks to co-create some wonderful images with me. So, just at that level, it's something I have to make room for in my life.

However, one of the people who worked with me is a fellow by the name of Cole Grayson. His partner of many years has created a very successful Web site manavenue.com based on a nearly identical business model as my old site mansimage.com, which still runs quietly in the background of the Internet with no updates for over five years. When I drove through the gates to their Coral Gables mansion all paid for by the Web site revenues, I admit to having some pangs of envy, especially as he started his site two years after my business partner and I started ours. The difference between him and us is that he kept his focus clear and stayed on task. He's smart, works hard and deserves every dime he's made. So there really isn't a reason to be envious of him; only disappointed in myself.

Seeing his operation up close was daunting. The technology has totally changed over the past five years. In addition to continuing my piano studies, I'm also facing a very steep learning curve for all the things I thought I knew well. The Web authoring software (which I now own) is totally different. My video editing platform is antique and I'm still editing my photography with CS though CS5 is the latest and greatest (those I still have to find the cash for). But it isn't just the expense, it's also the question of how many languages and skills can I learn in order to be competitive -- whether it's Web authoring or piano technology.

A signficant realization today as I talked with Josh over brunch was about the only time I stray off task is when I get depressed. And the only time I get depressed is when I start comparing myself to someone else. Daunting, yes; but I'm not daunted. It's just one step at a time, keeping the focus clear and staying on task.

To do so, I've got to do a better job of balancing my three-legged stool. I have to keep the day job to pay the rent, buy a few groceries for myself and Ranger, and, hopefully, keep on paying down debt. The piano business is already beginning to happen even before I've put the word out publicly. People are even beginning to find my little place holder page at keystuning.com Already people are walking into the store asking me to tune -- or more significantly -- to fix their 1926 Model L Steinway. It's a task I'll soon be able to take on as I'm rebuilding two grands right now, a 1908 Stieff and a 1910 Knabe. I'm learning the skills; but it'll be a while before I want to take on the responsibility of someone else's $100,000 instrument. And, of course, the third leg is the photography and Web authoring, which I turned my back on just about this time last year. Now I realize, it's something that I not only love but still has potential for success if I can keep focused on the task at hand.

Guess that's all by long way of saying, I'm getting back on the horse and am ready to ride once again. Giddyup!

Shipment 4

The reading and lessons from the Randy Potter School are getting more dense. Last week I received the 4th of the five shipments, including a vertical action model. There were "only" about four hundred more pages so I've begun working through them as I can.

I wish the shipment had arrived a few days earlier. Thursday evening I was asked to tune the grand being used by Opera Fest here in Key West for a concert the next evening. No problem with the tuning. However, all the bass dampers from A1 through B15 were sticking. How to fix dampers was in the supplement I received on Saturday. But my "guess" was correct. I managed to get 14 of the 15 working just as folks were walking in wearing their tuxedos.

It's great that folks are trusting me to work on their instruments already; but my skill sets are still very much in the formative stage. While I don't know the solution to every problem, fortunately I do know enough now to keep from harming anything. If I don't know what to do, I simply stop. My first rule of thumb is "do no harm"!

Okay, enough with the update for the evening. Back to the books!

Sooner than I'd planned

In addition to my continuing studies and work on Zelda, I took on my first paid tuning jobs rather unexpectedly this past week. I've been doing some tuning for friends for trade and/or free, but I really hadn't planned on doing any work professionally until I was a little deeper into the course...fear of success?

And no place to begin but at the top I suppose. Donna Roll, Chair of the Opera Department at the Longy Conservatory http://www.longy.edu/ in Cambridge, Massachusetts is in Key West for six weeks for a summer institute. She has advanced students from around the world as well as young people with promise who she's accepted into the program. The institute called Opera Fest is housed at Old Stone Church in Key West. And for those of you reading this who may reside here, don't walk; but run to hear the performances each Friday evening at 7:30.

The first night of their performances I was tuning the rehearsal pianos; but went this past Friday. I sat there hardly able to breathe in awe of the talent she's gathered in our little city. In just over a week she was able to produce a staged version of Puccini's Suor Angelica. It's a work with which I was unfamiliar; but filled with soaring melodies written with Puccini's seamless harmonies. It's also a tear jerker -- even without the translation, I don't think there was a dry eye in the house. The singing was perfection.

But back to tuning. The first piano I worked on was a 1948 Cable Nelson console that had apparently not been tuned since 1980. At least that's what the cards inside said. It was at least 75 cents flat (3/4 of a full pitch) throughout the piano. I worked on it for 5 full hours. I had to raise the pitch twice before attempting a fine tuning. When I checked it out during intermission this past Friday it was almost holding; at least 95% had stayed in pitch. The 5% out, of course, hurt. So I'll return this coming Wednesday to give it one more fine tuning. With all the rehearsing going on, it's gone from being an in-the-corner never used instrument to something that must be in tune.

As Dean Walters, who had invited me to work on the instruments, said "You might as well as cut your teeth on something tough." He got that part right! And I'm deeply appreciative that he gave me this early opportunity.

The second piano, also a Cable Nelson console (this one from 1955) was actually in pretty decent shape. While a little out of tune, only the bass section had sagged significantly. That one was a little more reasonable in terms of the time it took. Still 3 hours; but I wanted it to be as perfect as possible. I'll give it a quick check as well to see how it's holding.

Given the hours involved I think I'm probably making less on these first two jobs than I would be if I were working at McDonald's. But the pleasure of hearing that 1948 Cable Nelson sing for the first time in nearly 30 years was for me priceless; not to mention my first check was signed by Donna Roll! I think I'll laminate the bank deposit slip that shows an image of the check! It meant a lot to me to think I had some small roll in the success of her singers...at least their ears weren't hurting during rehearsals.

So all this got me to thinking. If I can tune for Donna Roll and Dean Walters, why not go ahead and start quietly tuning even before I complete the entire course? Most of the course is about repair, regulating, voicing, etc., which honestly you could spend a lifetime on and never learn it all. But I do already have the basics of the tuning part. The work at Old Stone gave me enough confidence to know I can do this well and, importantly, if I can start getting even occasional jobs it'll help support my Zelda and Yuri costs. Zelda's repairs are mostly affordable; but it's already obvious that I'm going to have to spend close to $2,000 just on parts alone for Yuri. Plus I'm trying to save money for what I think of as my "finals" in Bozeman, Montana this coming January. Even a few tuning jobs could go a long way in helping make all that a reality.

Net result? I started working on a business card to start leaving around town where I know musicians gather. I spent several nights this past week doing photography and playing around in Photoshop. The one shown in the picture above is still in the conceptual stage; but it's beginning to have the feel I'm looking for. I've a friend Sheri Lohr who's a graphic designer who'll hopefully be able to take it to where it needs to be as well as develop a logo from the elements.

But for now, it's just a big "thank you" to Dean and Donna for having enough confidence in me to help me get to the next step in my journey.

Key dips and aches...

The fun videos they show on YouTube showing how easily and quickly issues with key dip can be corrected have a dirty little secret. They always show somebody happily sitting fixing the natural keys. They never show someone working on the sharps. And now I know why -- you can't see them, you can't reach them, they're nearly impossible to measure correctly and you have to get down on your hand and knees to work on them.

That's what I learned this past Thursday.

Since I don't own the fancy Jaras sharp key dip/leveler device I figured out a way to jury rig my own tool with a t-square with a level built in. That's twice now that tool has turned into a handy solution for getting around the purchase of expensive tools from piano supply places. McGiver I'm not; but it is occasionally gratifying to figure out an alternative solution.

Once I knew out how to measure the sharp key dip accurately (I still don't get this "you'll feel it" stuff), I nonetheless had to resort to long needle nose pliers, rigging up lights and getting down on my hands and knees to reach in pull out the felts, put in the proper number of punchings and replace the felts. Thank goodness there aren't as many sharps. It took about four hours and my body simply ached in places I didn't even know I had when finished.

On the other hand, the Zelda's touch and response has improved immensely. There's much more control in almost every respect. Next steps will be regulating the action behind the keys and ultimately voicing.

After I finished putting her back together, I decided to give Zelda a quick tune. Moving the action in and out constantly has destabilized her a bit. The quick clean up turned into a major retune. I finished up at 1:30 am Friday. Even though I was exhausted from the 17 hour day, I couldn't help but playing her for a while afterwards. She, once again, sounds even more fabulous. Each step in the regulating process brings out a different nuance hidden in her bones.

Speaking of tuning; Friday evening I had my first paid tuning job for Donna Roll's Young Artists series hosted here in Key West. They've moved locations and the pianos at the new location have been (to be kind) neglected over the years. The one I worked on Friday hadn't been tuned since 1980. Not only was it out of tune with itself -- it was on average 75 cents flat throughout the piano -- not exactly something you teach young artists with. It took a while -- five hours -- to clean it up, raise the pitch and then finally tune it. But despite its years of of neglect was sounding pretty good last evening when finished. I'll go back in about a week to see how stable it is and give it another fine tuning.

Tomorrow after church, I'll tackle another of their instruments. Hopefully, it won't be quite as neglected. Nonetheless, working on these kind of instruments is probably the best way to get the experience I need.

By the way, back to Zelda, did I mention before I replaced any of the front rail felts, I polished out each front rail pin to help improve the key action? (see photo) Yet another of those many subtle steps needed to achieve a more beautiful sound.

Need to get to bed so I can be alert to handle tomorrow's tuning challenges --and whatever else the day may bring.

Touch regulation...

After my struggles with key height chronicled in the last post I decided to go back to Danny Boone's book Regulating Grand Piano Touch and Tone. And read it again. Duh, right there it was! Key height is governed primarily by the balance rail pin and to some lesser degree by the backcheck rail felt. That information was buried in one sentence on page 84. My guess as to what I'd done wrong was correct. But it was a hard way to learn that lesson.

The first three hours of Memorial Day was spent undoing what I'd done incorrectly; then setting the proper height with all the keys seated on the bed level with each other. It's amazing what a difference a paper punching only 3/1000 or 5/1000th of an inch thick can make. Gradually I got the feel for the correct sizes and how many to use. The book says with practice "you should become able to level the white keys in one or two passes". For me, it was more like four or five. And, of course, there are the sharps as well.

Since I didn't know what to order in the first place I got the "assortment package" of punchings both for balance rail pins and front rail pins. The good news is I had everything I needed. The bad news is I now have a lifetime supply -- they come in packages of 1000 and they sent about a dozen different sizes of each.

After setting the key heights, I squared, leveled and spaced Zelda's keys -- no gap teeth, please. Then it was time to set the hammer line.

This is where it gets pretty precise -- the hammers need to have a "blow distance" of 1 3/4 inch below the strings. So I took a level with a t-square built in and checked the height of Zelda's strings from the key bed. She really was built well. A hundred years later and the deviation is at most 1/64th of an inch on a few of the strings. I'd call that level.

So I rigged up a taut line at exactly the 1 3/4 distance below the string (see photo) height; then moved the action to the workbench. Another four hours of my Memorial Day holiday was happily spent adjusting the hammer line to the correct blow distance. The photo shows the hammers before adjustment -- some were less than a half inch away from the strings; others were over two and a half inches. The point of all this is to create an even touch and response. For those that are too close you couldn't get a forte if your life depended on it. For those too far, you could defintely get some power; but the sound would always be late --notes played at the same time would sound at different times.

But it isn't over yet! Touch isn't just about key height and hammer blow distance. It's also about making sure the distance that each key travels to exert a blow to the string is the same as the key next to it. Otherwise the pianist has no control. So the next four hours of my Memorial Day holiday was spent happily adjusting what's called "key dip".

While the punchings on the balance rail have more overall impact for their size, the range of motion for each key is incredibly varied. As precisely made as the keys are -- they are, after all, over a hundred years old. Time gives not only character but lots of variation. The number of punchings required to correct these variations multiply almost exponentially. Hmmm, maybe I don't have a lifetime supply after all -- at least not for front rail pins.

I completed all the natural keys. Stared at the clock -- 10:30 PM and realized that there wasn't an ounce of energy left to do anything else. And that's where I am now.

Last night I took a little time off to do some minor retuning -- all this moving in and out of action parts, etc. has had rattled the old girl a bit. Tonight I'm writing. And tomorrow, I turn my attention back to the key dip of the sharps. It'll be a bit more complex -- one, because the punchings are harder to get at; and two, because there are seven or eight "recommended" ways how to get the correct measurement. One book just says "go by feel" -- how do you feel 3/1000 of an inch and know if it's correct or not?

I bought a handy dandy Davis sharp leveler adjustment from Schaff. I'm going to carefully reread the instructions tomorrow morning (my last Thursday off before we start summer hours at the shop) and devote probably the next four hours to leveling out Zelda's sharps.

After that, I'm not sure. I'm thinking about beginning to play with some preliminary wood refinishing approaches in some test patches to see what looks best.

Or, if it's not 94 like it was today, I may actually take a bike ride around the island. Bending over a bench -- even happily -- for 10-12 hours making painstakingly precise adjustments is a little tough on the back.

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.