Despite the flood in the cottage that has severely compromised Zelda's action, there's been a lot of positive energy related to Keys Tuning of late.
But first, let's dispense with the flood.
I was hurrying to squeeze in an additional appointment two Saturdays ago to meet with Mrs. Ford before tuning a gorgeous grand a few blocks away. The meeting was to discuss rebuilding her 1919 upright -- amazingly, still under consideration despite my assessment of the piano's condition and its potential value; that is, it would cost more to repair it than it'll ever be worth from a financial standpoint. There had been, apparently, a family conference to discuss the matter. The practical son had weighed in on the financial merits and the daughter who grew up learning to play on the instrument in its better days still saw value in its repair. After my meeting, it's likely the piano will not be returned to its former glory; but we left the matter open. Sentiment is yet a strong motivator.
In my rush to get there I unknowingly left a trickle of water running where I'd washed out Ranger's bowl and I left the bowl in the basin. The combination of the two -- small continuous flow and drain blocked by bowl -- resulted in approximately two inches of water throughout the cottage when I returned four hours later. Zelda just hasn't been the same since.
The surge of humidity at her feet swelled all the felts; most noticeably none of the damper felts seat properly anymore. Every note rings for three to four seconds after it has been played -- making for an unbearable cacophony. After about two weeks they are drying out a bit -- the ring has reduced from several seconds to just a second -- arghh -- so for the moment, the old girl is only good for plunking out the melodies I'm rehearsing for my next concert. And, of course, now I've another skill set I'll need to add to my list of things to learn -- repairing dampers.
I'm keeping up with tuning pianos -- several really nice grands lately; but more importantly, a lowly spinet, not tuned in over eight years, taught me something really important.
The spinet was miserably out of tune. In the treble it was a full pitch flat and most of the bass and tenor was at least a semi tone flat. I had to do a pitch raise to get it close before tuning it and was quietly cursing myself as the tuning was one I'd donated for a charity auction. My normal first-time 3 hour tuning quickly became five and half hours. Still, when I was done -- besides the obvious relief on the part of the family that I would soon leave -- there was a moment.
Mom played the piano for a moment, smiled broadly. But before she could say 'thanks', her 10 year old daughter ran over, hugged her knees and laughed "Oh, mommy, when we sing, it won't sound like a funeral anymore!" It was the best thank you I could ever have expected.
Every piano -- grand or spinet, great condition or poor -- deserves to be the best it can be.
Having said that, I admit to looking forward to my assignments this coming week -- a 9' Boesendorfer concert grand and a 7' Steinway grand.
After the next week of holiday related tunings, I'm hoping to hunker down to the books and start working on Yuri again. The goal now is to pass my exams at the Piano Technicians Guild annual conference in July 2011.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Changing, re-arranging
I've been looking for a space to have a piano repair workshop here in Key West. Despite the fact that much (as in the rest of the country) retail space is empty and has been for a while, landlords aren't budging any on rents. An attorney friend explained that if they start reducing rents for commercial properties then it reduces the appraised value of their property so most tend to be intractable on the rent issue. Still, it seems to me a reduced value and some money in your pocket makes more sense than an empty, deteriorating space. But then I'm not a landlord.
The cottage is already filled with Zelda & Yuri. The two grands and their component parts arranged in different spots take up about half of the available space in the cottage. Not to mention that in order to have enough room to make breakfast and/or sleep at night I need to put away whatever I'm working on plus all the tools. Ranger's been a little cramped for space as well -- he's been having to share his favorite table with Yuri. It's a bit of a Catch 22 -- there's (barely) enough room to work on the two instruments and not enough room to take on paid assignments.
This issue came to a head yesterday.
A vivacious, elderly lady called me a few days ago to look at her piano, as it turns out a 1919 Stultz & Co. old upright. When she called she said, "nothing works, and I'd like to have it fixed." And, when I looked at it yesterday she was right -- nothing works. Thirty keys are compromised for one reason or another, the tuning pins & strings are corroded, the hammers are actually concave from years of playing, it's horribly out of tune, and the list could go on. The case is in relatively good shape, as are the harp, pinblock, sound board and bridges. So, essentially you have a decent frame upon which to put a new instrument -- not much more. To fix it would cost more than the instrument will ever be worth.
I explained this to Mrs. Ford and asked "why do you want this piano repaired?" Her reply was "it just needs to be right. Besides my daughter comes once or twice a year, and she plays." I guess my look must have been a little more than incredulous as she chuckled, "look I'm 87. I've got some money and I'd just like to have it working. So just tell me how much it'll cost to put it back together."
Then it struck me 'this is another gift'. The money is irrelevant to her, it's about leaving a legacy of beauty for her children. So, I'm going to put together a very, very fairly priced proposal for her, then see if she wishes to go forward.
If she does, it would mean some signficant start-up income for me, not to mention it would give me the opportunity to thoroughly rework an old upright in addition to the two grands. There are enough diferences between a grand & an upright to make it another important part of my learning curve. But, it did bring to a head the space issue. As it stands currently, I don't have room in the cottage and so far I haven't found a reasonable place to rent where I could create a workshop.
Usually when obstacles like this come up the universe is telling you something. So after I left her yesterday, I went to a friend's house to restring a missing bass string. I explained to Sheri about the lady's insistence on fixing the piano; but that it didn't matter as I wouldn't be able to take the job for lack of space. She just looked at me and said "Mrs. Ford deserves to have a beautiful instrument in her life. You'll find a way."
When I came back to the cottage I started looking at the space differently, then started re-arranging everything. Tools came up front where I could get at them more easily. My landlady's son came by. We talked about moving out some of the furniture when he comes back in December, which would leave me room for a work bench. For now, the universe is telling me 'make do with the resources you have and build the business on a more solid financial foundation.' By simply removing furniture he can use at one of their other properties, I can make room for the business here and still have a comfortable place to live. For now, it's enough. I just needed to see the space differently.
On a totally different topic, there has been a lot happening with two other aspects of the developing business in the last couple of weeks.
Yuri's keys are now all functional and, with one exception, perfectly balanced. Even the A#86 that was eaten through with termites (fortunately they focused primarily on the key frame and munched their way through only one of the keys) has been repaired. Next steps are to start removing the old corroded tuning pins and piano wires. I've been repairing some other instruments so I have some practical experience with restringing now. I'm devouring the 'bible' on restringing -- Travis' A Guide to Restringing so am at the point where I think I'm ready to take on Yuri's total restringing job.
The cottage is already filled with Zelda & Yuri. The two grands and their component parts arranged in different spots take up about half of the available space in the cottage. Not to mention that in order to have enough room to make breakfast and/or sleep at night I need to put away whatever I'm working on plus all the tools. Ranger's been a little cramped for space as well -- he's been having to share his favorite table with Yuri. It's a bit of a Catch 22 -- there's (barely) enough room to work on the two instruments and not enough room to take on paid assignments.
This issue came to a head yesterday.
A vivacious, elderly lady called me a few days ago to look at her piano, as it turns out a 1919 Stultz & Co. old upright. When she called she said, "nothing works, and I'd like to have it fixed." And, when I looked at it yesterday she was right -- nothing works. Thirty keys are compromised for one reason or another, the tuning pins & strings are corroded, the hammers are actually concave from years of playing, it's horribly out of tune, and the list could go on. The case is in relatively good shape, as are the harp, pinblock, sound board and bridges. So, essentially you have a decent frame upon which to put a new instrument -- not much more. To fix it would cost more than the instrument will ever be worth.
I explained this to Mrs. Ford and asked "why do you want this piano repaired?" Her reply was "it just needs to be right. Besides my daughter comes once or twice a year, and she plays." I guess my look must have been a little more than incredulous as she chuckled, "look I'm 87. I've got some money and I'd just like to have it working. So just tell me how much it'll cost to put it back together."
Then it struck me 'this is another gift'. The money is irrelevant to her, it's about leaving a legacy of beauty for her children. So, I'm going to put together a very, very fairly priced proposal for her, then see if she wishes to go forward.
If she does, it would mean some signficant start-up income for me, not to mention it would give me the opportunity to thoroughly rework an old upright in addition to the two grands. There are enough diferences between a grand & an upright to make it another important part of my learning curve. But, it did bring to a head the space issue. As it stands currently, I don't have room in the cottage and so far I haven't found a reasonable place to rent where I could create a workshop.
Usually when obstacles like this come up the universe is telling you something. So after I left her yesterday, I went to a friend's house to restring a missing bass string. I explained to Sheri about the lady's insistence on fixing the piano; but that it didn't matter as I wouldn't be able to take the job for lack of space. She just looked at me and said "Mrs. Ford deserves to have a beautiful instrument in her life. You'll find a way."
When I came back to the cottage I started looking at the space differently, then started re-arranging everything. Tools came up front where I could get at them more easily. My landlady's son came by. We talked about moving out some of the furniture when he comes back in December, which would leave me room for a work bench. For now, the universe is telling me 'make do with the resources you have and build the business on a more solid financial foundation.' By simply removing furniture he can use at one of their other properties, I can make room for the business here and still have a comfortable place to live. For now, it's enough. I just needed to see the space differently.
On a totally different topic, there has been a lot happening with two other aspects of the developing business in the last couple of weeks.
Yuri's keys are now all functional and, with one exception, perfectly balanced. Even the A#86 that was eaten through with termites (fortunately they focused primarily on the key frame and munched their way through only one of the keys) has been repaired. Next steps are to start removing the old corroded tuning pins and piano wires. I've been repairing some other instruments so I have some practical experience with restringing now. I'm devouring the 'bible' on restringing -- Travis' A Guide to Restringing so am at the point where I think I'm ready to take on Yuri's total restringing job.
On the tuning front, I've been slowly taking on more clients. Still trying to limit myself somewhat until I get myself more organized. The latest was a preconcert tuning for a professional ensemble. Though my aural tunings have been (with one exception) very good, I couldn't take a chance on blowing the tuning for a concert. So I drained my last savings and bought a Sanderson Accu-Tuner IV (SAT IV) which arrived several days in advance of the concert tuning. I love it!!!
Unlike most machines which simply provide pitch verification on a particular note, the SAT IV is designed to hear the harmonics throughout the instrument so that when you're setting the temperament, it's hearing how in tune the piano is with itself as well as conventional pitch. It then makes the subtle adjustments of a few cents in either direction to account for the inharmonicity of the particular instrument. As a consequence, it's helping me to speed up my tuning time as I'm now not spending an hour running tests on my aural work. That alone is worth the money; but also -- as a confidence builder -- it's confirmed with the pianos I've done previously that my aural work was accurate. Whew!!! Maybe there really is a career here after all.
The next picture has nothing to do with anything except Ranger hates storms. And we've been having quite a few lately. This is where I've been finding him -- if I can find him at all. I really don't know how such a large cat can make himself small enough to fit into this space.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
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.
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.
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.
What do you get? I'm not sure; but there is a certain satisfaction in the process.
Labels:
first paid job,
Sanderson Accu Tuner,
Stieff repairs
Monday, October 18, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
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"!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
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!
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!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)







