Disassembling a Metal Clarinet Barrel (Lesson Learned 3/5/13)

With yesterday's lesson being so internal, I knew that today I'd want to write about something very straightforward. So I chose a lesson I learned yesterday, which is:

How to Disassemble a Selmer Metal Clarinet Barrel

This post, like all of them, is still for my own reference, because I've already forgotten how to do this once. But as far as I can tell these instructions aren't available anywhere else online, so maybe they'll be useful to someone else who will actually stumble upon this blog. Here goes:

This is the kind of barrel I'm talking about. It's on a Selmer Paris metal clarinet and seems typical of the design for Selmer's metal clarinets. Of course, Selmer doesn't make these instruments anymore. I don't know that any major manufacturers still do, but they had a heyday in the first half of the 20th century. Once plastic instruments became cheap and easy to make they largely disappeared from production, but some people still like them or collect them. In my opinion, the sound is a little too distinct to be useful in ensembles, but I guess some find them pleasant.

The unique thing about these barrels is that they're adjustable. Instead of pulling the barrel away from the upper joint to adjust pitch (or pushing it in), you turn an adjusting lug that lengthens or shortens the barrel itself. The barrel consists of four parts, as shown below. I don't know if these are their real names, but they make sense to me.

1. Lower barrel, which attaches to the clarinet. The collar goes at the top of it, and the adjusting lug turns freely around it. The upper barrel goes inside it.

2. Adjusting lug, which turns to either lengthen or shorten the barrel.

3. Collar, which threads onto the lower barrel and holds the adjusting lug in place. Usually there is a set screw in the collar holding it onto the lower barrel. That screw was missing on this instrument, but don't worry, I made a replacement.

4. Upper barrel, which attaches to the mouthpiece. The threaded section (not visible in this photo) engages the threads on the inside of the adjusting lug, making it move up and down when the lug is turned. It goes inside the lower barrel.

Unfortunately, since these instruments haven't been made in a long time and have fallen out of use, the ones we see come through the shop are usually in very bad shape, having been found in attics, basements, or some other place where they've been neglected and ignored for a very long time. As a result, the first problem we encounter with barrels is that the adjusting lugs are usually stuck and the whole barrel is fused together with gunk, so the first thing to do is to get that moving. A combination of penetrating oil and heat can help break down some of the buildup, and gently tapping directly on the lug with a rawhide mallet can shake things loose (this is the same thing we do on bottom valve caps on brass instruments). Failing that, a pair of soft-jawed pliers can be used, or if you're feeling brave, a pair of regular pliers with a thick piece of leather. Don't blame me when they slip and scratch up the finish, though. I find it's best to put the mouthpiece end of the barrel on an expander that's secured in a vise to provide some anchoring. 

The lug twists counterclockwise (left) to lengthen, and clockwise (right) to shorten the barrel. When loosening it, be sure you are twisting in the right direction. Often they'll be choked up all the way (as seen in the first photo) so that the only direction to go is counterclockwise (left). But if it's partially extended, as visible below, the best thing is to twist clockwise (right), so that you're making the barrel shorter. You'll need to reverse that later to disassemble everything, but the goal here is just to get things moving in any direction, and there is a good reason for not overextending the barrel at this point, which has to do with the collar and will become obvious later.

Once you have the lug moving back and forth, the next step is to remove the collar. The collar only moves one direction, clockwise (right) to loosen. You'll need to first remove the set screw, if present. Then make sure the barrel is partially extended, as shown above, so that you have somewhere for the collar to go as you loosen it. Ideally, once the set screw is out, you should just be able to twist the collar off. In practice, though, it will probably be gunked up, so you could place a sharpened wooden dowel in the set screw hole and tap on that to get it started. Just be careful not to dent it, because it will be a bitch to get back on later if it's dented or out-of-round. 

Here's the collar partially removed. Notice how fine the threads are. They are very prone to getting dirty.

As you unscrew the collar, the adjusting lug may move. Just keep an eye on it, you may want to adjust it to keep things from getting to tight as you work.

Here's the collar fully removed. Now it's free to just flop around up there.

Next you remove the lower barrel from the upper barrel by simply turning the lug counterclockwise (left) until the threads disengage. When the collar is in place, it prevents you from being able to do this and stops the lug before it reaches the end of the threads. That's why it was important not to overextend the barrel earlier - it's only designed to go so far with the collar in place. Here's a picture of the lower barrel partially removed. The large threads in the center are what engage the adjusting lug and allow the upper barrel to move up and down.

Once the upper and lower barrels are separated, you'll have this:

And this:

Separating the lower barrel from the adjust lug is easy - it should just slide off, though you may need to unscrew it as the lug slides over the fine threads at the top of the lower barrel.

Now you need to remove the collar from the upper barrel if you want to clean it really well. The collar has to be aligned just right in order to slip off. In this picture you can see at the top of the collar there is a relief in the threads (between 11 o'clock and 1 o'clock). That relief must be lined up with the large threads on the upper barrel to slip over them as you remove the collar. The collar does not unscrew from the upper barrel, it just slips off.

Here they are separated. The relief in the collar is again visible in the same spot, closest to the top of the photo.

Here's another shot of the collar, showing the hole for the set screw. The collar is upside-down in this photo.

That's it. Once you have everything apart, you can clean it thoroughly, and reverse the process to put it back together. Make sure to heavily grease all the threads as you reassemble. I also like to put grease on the face of the upper barrel before reinserting into the lower barrel, just to help things slide and create an airtight seal.

Lesson Learned - 3/4/13

In what may also be a surprise life lesson, I had something demonstrated to me that is probably good business practice anyway. When dealing with a customer who challenges your work, the best thing is to talk to them directly and find out their concern. Then, if the problem is legitimate, your first option is to address it and deal with a little bit of egg on your face. The worst thing to do would be to NOT listen to them, or use a delegate to tell them that there is nothing wrong and it's all in their head. That is something I have unfortunately been guilty of many times because I find it's easier to stay secluded back in the shop and leave a salesperson to deal with the customer's impending wrath, even though I know fully well that that's not the right thing to do. In fact it's exactly the wrong thing because it comes with this additional snag - that sometimes the customer will in fact be right, that you are overlooking a problem, and then you have to backpedal when that problem is made clear and you finally realize that you were in the wrong for dismissing them.

But I think that in most cases the reason I'm afraid to face the customer directly is that I'm afraid I'm not perceiving a problem because my skills are insufficient to diagnose and correct it. It's difficult to admit when a customer catches a problem that you missed, especially because they're relying on you for expertise. Admittedly, that has almost never happened, which may be a credit to me or may just be luck. However another fear is that in this scenario I might be right - that there is no problem, and that there will be no way to convince them of that. In that scenario, it's not easy to "agree to disagree" because they have usually already paid for my services and feel that they didn't get their money's worth. But if the problem truly is in their head and I know that their instrument is working properly, what can I do? I can make some minor adjustment that usually has nothing to do with the problem they're experiencing, I can try to allay their fears and ask them to give it a few days, or I can force the issue, stand my ground, and risk an impasse. In the last case, though, if they won't back down either, the resolution sometimes comes down to giving them a refund for good work just to stop the impasse from becoming any bigger. I think I find that repugnant because I have such a problem swallowing my pride and conceding, especially when I feel I'm in the right (but I also have difficulty with it when I know I'm in the wrong).

I guess another option would be to take the instrument back and pretend to do some work to it, but I find I'm a terrible liar.

Yesterday, though, a salesperson came back into the shop with a saxophone we'd just repaired, explained the issue the student was having (he could get High G to sound in the right octave) and asked if we could fix it. I looked at the instrument and legitimately found no problem with the octave mechanism, then played it and found everything to be just peachy. At that point I had a choice: either send the salesperson back out with the assertion that there was nothing wrong, or go out myself and try to learn a little bit more about the problem. In a rare feat, I decided to do the right thing and went out to talk to the customer. I asked the student about the problems he was having, asked the mom what she had been told by the teacher, and came to realize that the teacher had given the student some faulty information about what keys should be opening when he plays High G. Apparently the teacher had heard the problem with that note, saw that the neck octave wasn't opening - which it shouldn't, anyway - and believed the two were connected. I explained a little bit about the function of the octave mechanism, assured the student that everything was working properly, then asked him to demonstrate how he holds and plays the instrument. Then I asked him to play and, sure enough, his High G was cracking down an octave. But by reaching back into my teaching knowledge (thanks  otherwise useless music education degree!), I was able to lead him through a few simple exercises in which he was indeed able to consistently play that note correctly. In that moment his mom - who had every right to be suspicious of our work - asked if it was possible he just needed a little more practice, which was the point I was trying to gently get to all along. The student, too, seemed a little more comfortable with the function of the instrument and what he needed to do in order to make it do his will. With all of us on the same page, they packed up and left satisfied.

Would it have been easier to remain in the shop and hope the issue would blow over? Of course. And it's likely the student would have eventually realized that if he changed things like his air speed and embouchure he could get that High G to consistently speak. But by going out there, risking the possibility of an impasse, and talking directly to the customers, I was reminded that most people are not stubborn and suspicious, and often just want a little bit more information when they question my work. It was hardly a heroic or even noteworthy decision. In fact, I was barely doing what should be expected of me anyway as an employee and human being. But it helped me remember something important that I need to keep in mind as I continue my career in a service-based industry.

Or it may also be true that most people will accept the word of someone they view as an expert even when it disagrees with their initial impression. I always do that. And when you look as good in an apron as I do, people can't help but think of you as a sage who's word is infallible.