Sixteen keys, and what do you get?

After another few hours last night I managed to polish Yuri's capstans down through F57. Another sixteen keys and only 56 more to go! The corrosion on the top creates extra friction making the keys less responsive to the pianist's touch. So, technically there's no reason to polish anything more than the top of the capstan since it's the only part that touches the action, But there's something aesthetically pleasing to me to see the brass gleaming against the deep wood tones of Yuri's hundred year old keys.

Looking at my efforts from a purely functional viewpoint, it's a waste of time to polish the entire capstan. In fact, once the keys and action are reinstalled, the next person who sees them (probably corroded once again) will be a piano technician 20 years from now called in to make the next set of repairs on Yuri. Yet, there's a part of me that believes Yuri's touch and tone will be that much sweeter because of the extra care I'm giving him now. Irrational, I know; but this is a labor of love after all.

Finishing up the capstan polishing project will probably take the rest of this evening after work and most of tomorrow. If there's time left I'll rebuild the one key destroyed by termites A#86; then move on to cleaning the keytops. I'm hopeful the job done in 1948, which replaced the keytops, will have stood the test of time and I won't have to replace them this time around. It looks as if it was an excellent job; but with all the dirt of the last few years of neglect, I won't know until they are cleaned and polished. That will be another week's labor of love; but at least one more visible.

In the meantime, I keep getting requests for tunings. One, especially has me scared nearly witless. 

 

About 3 weeks ago I tuned a friend's 7' Steinway and his mother's 7' Yamaha, both amazing instruments, and both in need of tuning. He's a professional singer with a very exacting ear. He said he'd tried dozens of tuners over the years and these were among the best tunings he'd ever had. Stroke, stroke. Well, he got it into his head to call the artistic director for Seraphic Fire, which is doing the premiere of their next world tour as a benefit in Marathon on November 3rd at Saint Pablo's. He arranged for me to do two concert tunings, one two days before the concert, the other the day of the concert. We're talking world class musicians here! I should have said 'no' but didn't.

 

Then last Saturday I had my first less-than-adequate tuning for another professional musician (also with an exacting ear), the pianist at Old Stone and the Keys Chorale's new accompanist. When I left Saturday, he played for a half-hour and declared his 6' Yamaha wonderful. Then I saw him at chorale on Tuesday and there was -- well, a look -- that said something was amiss. I asked how the tuning was holding and he went on at length before the rehearsal started about how it wasn't! Obviously, I couldn't sleep that night. And went over on Thursday to see what I'd done wrong.

 

He was, in fact, correct. About six or seven notes hadn't held and some unisons had decayed. I don't know if it was the weather (torrential downpours from hurricane Paula's bands) or something I'd done; but I decided to give him his money back. Normally, I would have offered to redo it on the spot; but he has a friend who's been tuning for Steinway for 30 years visiting for the weekend -- better to let him correct the situation and part, hopefully, good company.

 

The point of all this is to say, his accurate assessment of my work was important feedback to get -- especially before the Seraphic Fire concert. Up until now, the tunings have been pretty great. But for whatever reason, it didn't hold. It was a wake up call to remind me that I'm still a beginner and need to keep working on the craft. On the other hand, if I mess up the Petrof grand at St. Pablo's I might as well move to the Australian bush before I get another tuning job in the Keys. It'll either make or break my reputation. No pressure -- it's just a career!

 

So, this week I cashed in my remaining savings, asked for vacation pay instead of taking time off this year and purchased a Sanderson Accu Tuner www.accu-tuner.com . It's due to arrive next Tuesday so I'll have an opportunity to practice with it on a couple of other instruments before I take on the Petrof being used by Seraphic Fire.

 

It's a pretty amazing device -- it doesn't tune for you; but hears the harmonics throughout the entire instrument and helps you correct the temperament that's specific for that individual piano. Essentially, it gives you the kind of feedback you'd get if you were sitting at the side of master technician who's been doing tunings for decades. 

 

In fact, that's what it is...the ear of a master. Paul Sanderson, was the chairman of the physics department at Harvard in the 70s with a specialty in sound and a love of pianos. He started building the device in the 80s, using both his ear for the 'art' of the feedback and his knowledge of physics and sound waves to turn it into a set of algorithims for a computer program. It's now in its fourth generation -- the latest just having just come on the market in late 2008.

 

With that thought in mind and a SAT IV arrival eminent early next week, I'm putting aside my fears of Seraphic Fire. Today, after work, I'll plan to put in some productive hours with Yuri to polish another sixteen capstans.

What do you get? I'm not sure; but there is a certain satisfaction in the process.

Yuri's keyframe is functional!!!

Last weekend I'd finished the major rebuilding work for Yuri's bionic (half plastic, half organic) key frame.  Countless hours of filling, sanding, re-filling, more sanding went into its reconstruction. Then starting much too late a week ago Sunday, I put everything back together only to discover everything was out of level and it didn't work! Some of the keys played; yet others right next to those which played would not. Some sections played and others would not. After a moment of panic and despair, I realized this wasn't going to be a problem I could solve at 10:30 PM after having worked on the keyframe for almost two days. And, the logic of why one thing would work right next to something that didn't eluded my understanding that night.

By midnight I had the tools put away, Yuri's disabled action and keyframe back in the case and covered, and I hit the bed realizing any resolution was another week away. I e-mailed my instructors at the Randy Potter School, hoping they might be able to give me a clue regarding resource material; but -- even today -- haven't heard back. I'm beginning to wonder if something is wrong out in Bend, Oregon. Exams aren't getting returned in a timely manner anymore. Phone calls & e-mails are going unanswered. But that's the subject (hopefully not) of another post. So this past Saturday after work, I started refilling and resanding -- got everything back in level, attached the action, slid it back into the case and voila second time was the charm.

Yuri's key frame finally is functional. All the tolerances are correct. And the old boy sounded his first few twangs in several years!

But, oh my gosh! The termite ridden key frame is just the beginning. Fortunately, only one key #86 is damaged by termites and I'm pretty sure now with my key frame experience I can rebuild that. Every metal part has been corroded over his 102 years. There's absolutely no doubt that all the strings and tuning pins will have to be replaced -- that twang wasn't just a tuning issue! There are a few thunks and zings as well.

But one step at a time -- keys first. Yesterday I spent most of the day repolishing the front rail key pins and balance rail pins before putting in new felt and paper punchings in order balance the keys; which, by the way, are weighted perfectly. Unlike my bones, they still have a wonderful spring. I replaced some of the missing damper felts at the back of the keys and repaired the leather back checks. They're a little dry; but are in amazingly good shape considering their age. Tonight I started polishing the capstans you see in the picture. Each octave takes about two hours. So there are quite a few hours to go before anything gets put back together; but at least now I know it'll work.

Before anything else goes back into the case or the action gets re-attached to the keys, I need to make a decision about the key tops. I found a technican's note in pencil on key 88 dated 1948. "Stieff, Levy, Replaced keytops." Short, but to the point with a little history. And a little clue as to who may have owned Yuri some 60 years ago when the keys were refurbished. The person who deacqusitioned Yuri to my care said they piano had been in the same Key West family for 80 years; but didn't have any other information. I'm going to try cleaning them first. There's only a little yellowing so I'm hopeful that's at least one thing that I won't have to replace.

So for tonight, I'm seeing lots of labor ahead plus some other major decisions down the  road such as the pros and cons of keeping and/or replacing the action given the corrosion. So far, I've only found  three badly damaged wippens. They look as if they can be repaired. It's the question of long-term life vs. changing the touch of the instrument that made it uniquely a Stieff. I'm really going to have to do some historical research before I make that call.

Yet, despite that decision and a few others like it, with the bionic key frame both strong and functional, I know the old boy can probably have at least another hundred years of useful life. Somehow, that gives me enough comfort to get to bed early tonight and have a good night's sleep.

Needing to get strategic...

Over the past few days it's become apparent I'll never really get the tuning & repair business off the ground unless I'm able to raise some additional capital. Everything I'm making by tuning is going into tools and equipment -- just the basics of the business. For example, a couple of clients who I've tuned for have broken strings in their instruments. And, while it's a good long term investment, my recent tuning fees were handily eaten up by the bare minimum assortment of piano wire & very basic stringing tools. There's enough wire there to do multiple instruments in the future; but for now it's inventory and cash out of my pocket.

Given the work schedule, the largest number of tuning jobs I can take on at the moment is 2-3 a week, which I'm getting without even trying, but that $200-300 a week is hardly enough to allow me to save the amount needed to rent a shop or take the plunge into the business full time especially since most of it continues to go toward tools, tuition & advertising. And the few disposable assets I do have I'm trying to sell simply aren't moving in this economy.

So today I realized the one major asset I have, both in terms of learning & potential finances, is Yuri, the 1908 5'1' Stieff baby grand. Called in its day, the poor man's Steinway, it could (I think) when restored be sold for between $6 to 8,000, just enough to secure a lease on a shop/showroom. The visibility of a shop would bring in tuning clients, plus it would give me a place to do repairs, which I totally enjoy (something about bringing things back to life), maybe even more than the tuning. And from what I've seen so far in my short career, there's a huge need for this sort of repair work. As of today I've now officially had 15 paying clients. Eleven of them needed work of some kind. The humidity and salt air of the Keys tend to take a toll on instruments here.

Today's decision then was to bite the bullet and complete the work on Yuri. As much as I'd like for personal reasons (i.e. I play her every day) to keep working on her, the repairs on Zelda are going to have to take a backseat for now. I'll keep her tuned; but otherwise I've decided to start shoveling what spare resources I have into Yuri's restoration.

Despite the fact that he's termite ridden and totally rusted -- strings, screws, tuning pins, balance rail pins, etc. -- the basics are sound. In addition to the very necessary case restoration, I'll at a minimum need to replace all the strings, hammers & tuning pins. The action and dampers, for the most part, seem salvageable. So today, I started working on Yuri's termite ridden keyframe once again.

The keyframe has been a real psychological stumbling block for me. Since it can't be reproduced, I'm rebuilding it out of epoxy -- something akin to a bionic piano -- part plastic, part organic. Today's decision was to give up on beauty in the repair in order to focus on strength and functionality. My assumption is that as long as it plays beautifully in the future and the case is stunningly restored, most folks won't care that the innards aren't beautiful as well.

I totaled up what I'm going to need to put into Yuri (assuming I can salvage most of the action & dampers). It'll be in the neighborhood of $1500, not including additional tools I still need to purchase so I can do the job. Since I got the old boy just for the cost of moving it (and totally excluding the hours & hours I'll need to put  in to complete the job), I should -- if I'm lucky -- be able to clear $4 to $6,000 upon completion, enough to seed the business.

So today I took a deep breath and started working on Yuri once again. I took everything apart and got all the sections organized. Cleaned the old boy up and started back to work on the keyframe. Stay tuned. The next few editions of the blog are going to become "living with Yuri"!

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.