Buffet English Horn Bonus Post 2 - New Octave Mechanism

Those who know me know that I have nothing against automatic octave mechanisms on english horns. It's probably the defining characteristic of my personality. People who meet me often walk away saying "There's a guy who can appreciate a well-made english horn automatic octave mechanism." One of my first posts on this blog was about how to regulate such a mechanism on a Theo Markardt english horn, which was pretty elegantly made.

That being said, the automatic octave mechanism on my personal Buffet english horn was a bucket of junk. Most such mechanisms have only one octave lever, which is all you need. That one lever operates either of the two octave keys, depending on whether the G key (third finger left hand) is open or closed - that's also how automatic octave mechanisms work on saxophones. On this instrument, though, there are two octave levers, just like the manual (actually semi-automatic) mechanism that you'd find on most oboes and english horns. You could press either lever to activate the mechanism, and both had the same effect: they would allow the appropriate key to open depending on whether the G key was open or closed. So if, say, a saxophonist were doubling on english horn in a musical and wasn't familiar with how to use a manual octave mechanism, they could exclusively use the thumb octave lever just like they would on saxophone. Or if a player were feeling funky, they could exclusively use the side lever. And for those of us familiar with a traditional manual mechanism, you could use both levers just like you always have, and get the right "feel" while the automatic mechanism is actually choosing which key to open. It sound like a neat idea, but in practice it's pretty goofy. It's like buying a car with an automatic transmission, but driving it as if it were a stick-shift.

The original, automatic octave mechanism

A closeup of the original mechanism, showing multiple contact points that all had to be kept in adjustment

So the mechanism was over-engineered, had a clunky feel, and was finicky to keep in adjustment. Further, it was articulated to the G key by a long rod that made that key feel sluggish and heavy. I wanted to do something about it, and since there was no way to uncouple the levers from each other, I elected to replace the mechanism outright with a manual mechanism. Not wanting to sacrifice any parts of the existing mechanism, that meant making new keys from nickel stock.

Shaping the keys is a pretty simple, if time consuming process. After measuring and tracing parts of the existing mechanism, it was a matter of grinding and power sanding the rough shape into a bar of nickel, then filing and sanding by hand to refine the shape and remove scratches. Some parts had to be annealed and hammered on a mandrel or in a vise to create curves and angles. Here are a couple shots of the roughed-out thumb touchpiece still attached to the bar, after being hammered on a mandrel to create the curve that will allow it to wrap around the body of the instrument.

Side view

Top-down view

Only a couple parts had to be machined -one being a key cup for the upper octave key. The original lower octave key was usable in its unaltered condition, but a screw barrel had to be made for the thumb octave lever to connect to it. Those two parts were made from brass.

Brass rod in the lathe, ready to be machined

The new pad cup and screw barrel

The hinge rods that form the pivot axis for the keys were just nickel rod cut to the appropriate length, then center-drilled and reamed to accept the existing pivot screws. After that the various key parts were drilled out to the diameter of the rod and slipped on, then carefully aligned and soldered in place with silver solder. Finally, spring catches were made for both keys by filing down some scrap nickel. A small hole was drilled in each rod to accept the catches and they too were soldered in place. After a quick bath in descaling solution to removing the residue left by silver soldering, the keys were buffed and ready to pad/cork/install. The resulting mechanism is easier to use (for me, at least), feels more responsive, and it's simple, so it won't require constant monitoring and adjustment. 

General view of the new mechanism

Side view, showing the the thumb octave lever

Thumb touchpiece from the earlier pictures, polished and mounted

Closeup showing the new pad cup on the upper octave key, and the original lower octave key still in place

Side-by-side of the old and new mechanisms

A post for the sake of posting

Sometimes I get asked to fix things other than instruments, like this little metal pumpkin that I got to solder back together for my mom :-)

Also, I have a new facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/keystonemusicrepair. A couple of updates there, and more coming here soon, as well.

Articulation Materials

Articulation materials are those materials placed on woodwind instruments at any point where two pieces of key work engage with one another. Any time one key or lever activates another key or lever, a piece of articulation material will always 1) prevent noisy metal-to-metal contact and 2) sometimes allow adjustment of the relationship between the two keys. For instance, if pressing one key closes another key, they will both need to close at exactly the same time. Placing material of the correct thickness at their articulation point will allow that. If the material is too thick or thin, one key will close first and prevent the second key from closing. In cases where adjustment screws exist, the articulation material just silences the connection, and changing the position of the screw is what changes the relationship between the keys.

Articulation points are different from key feet, which are the parts of the keys that contact the body. Key foot materials tend to be chosen exclusively for their firmness or noise level, while there are other factors that come in to play when selecting articulation materials including compression and coefficient of friction. There are a lot of materials useful for articulation points, some better suited to certain purposes than others. These are some of the ones I use.

Natural cork: is very quiet but squishy, so thicker pieces don't hold adjustments well. If you have a strong grip on the keys, you'll likely squeeze through any compression so the drawback of "squishiness" is, in that case, negligible. Natural cork has a relatively high coefficient of friction and tends to tear easily, so it's not great for sliding articulation points or very small points. However because it's so quiet, it's often found under the articulation screws on oboes. In this application the corks should be replaced at least once a year lest they become too compressed and start to get noisy, or tear. When it is used in sliding points, natural cork can make a squeaking sound as it moves. Nonetheless, it's the material most often used by manufacturers on their factory set-ups because it's inexpensive and forgiving of sloppy pad work. It's the material I use least often.

Gummi cork: is firm and resistant to tearing, but its stability comes at the cost of being noisy. Gummi corks are not to be confused with low-grade composition cork. Gummi cork is made of very small scraps of cork held together with very strong glue and cut to a precise thickness. Because of its stability it's great for places like bridge keys on clarinets and oboes. It's also commonly found on the backbar of saxophone F# keys, but here the noisiness is more noticeable because saxophone keys have more mass that's slamming down on to the cork. It is extremely stable, and so very useful for joints where a precise regulation is needed. Gummi cork isn't exactly a low-friction material, although it does last longer than natural cork when used in sliding joints. Over time, though, it will compress or tear in certain application, like the back of the F/C key on clarinets, where the key contacts the left hand F/C lever. 

Felt: is very quiet and often resistant to tearing, but is also very compressible and not great for precise adjustments. Felt can't be made especially thin either, so the right thickness isn't always available. Felt can be soaked in a variety of substances to harden it and make it more dimensionally stable, sometimes without making it too much noisier. It has very low friction and can work quite well for sliding joints, especially where precise adjustment isn't required. It's compressibility makes it good at absorbing shocks, so it's useful under saxophone key feet when one is trying to eliminate "key bounce," though over time it can permanently compress and become too dense and firm to prevent bounce.

Synthetic felt: is more stable and firmer than felt, but it's also a little bit noisier, and a good bit more expensive. It great for joints where a precise and quiet connection is needed. Again, though, it's not available in especially thin sizes so it has somewhat limited applications. I often use it in places on higher end instruments where tradition dictates that felt be used - between the A key pearl and Bb bis key on saxophones, or between the thumb Bb lever and B key on flutes. Because it doesn't compress as readily as felt, it's a longer-lasting fix for eliminating key bounce.

Nylon: most often used as an insert in regulation screws on flutes, oboes, and clarinets, nylon is relatively quiet on small articulation points (such as you'd find on those instruments). It's not as quiet as natural cork or felt, but on small keys with little range of motion, the noise can be quite manageable. The greatest benefit is that nylon tips are extremely stable and long lasting, perhaps never needing replacement as long as they're not damaged. They can't fall off like pieces of cork or felt and will remain dimensionally stable regardless of how often the screw is moved. Nylon is also fairly low in friction, so it doesn't stick or cause mechanisms to "hang up."

Leather: very thin pieces of leather are sometimes found under the articulation screws on oboes. Specifically, the leather is usually of the type used in making saxophone pads, which can be a little too thick for this application on certain instruments. It's resistant to tearing and relatively quiet. It has a little more friction than other materials, but since the articulation points on oboes don't really slide, that is of minor concern.

Teflon sheet: is of course very low in friction, so it's an excellent choice for any sort of sliding joint. Teflon sheet is available with a treated back that can be bonded to keys with glue (the front surface, of course, won't stick to most adhesives). It has a plastic-like consistency, so it's also very stable and resistant to tearing. Unfortunately it's also very hard and loud, so its use is always a bit of a compromise. Again, on smaller contact points, the noise is less noticeable because of the small mass of the keys.

Ultrasuede: is low in friction and extremely resistant to tearing. It's not very firm, though, so it's most often my choice for sliding joints where a precise adjustment isn't needed. For instance, on old baritone saxophones where the Low B and Bb pads are separate from their levers, linked by a sliding ramp. Because ultrasuede isn't very dense it squishes easily, but doesn't stay compressed. Ultrasuede is pretty expensive, like synthetic felt, and a royal pain to cut with a razor blade.

Laminated cork: is made from a sheet of very thin paper laminated between two pieces of very thin cork. The idea is to create a thin cork (.003") that will be resistant to tearing or compression. Generally, it fulfills those criteria, but any material that thin is going to be somewhat noisy.

Sorbothane: is often used in the insoles of shoes, but has found limited use among musical instruments. It is excellent at absorbing shocks, so it's great for eliminating "key bounce." It's also pretty quiet, but it's designed to compress and recover, so while it always returns to its original thickness like ultrasuede, it can't be used for precise adjustment or anywhere that a firm feel is desired. It's also a pain to cut.

Other: Whatever is out there! A lot of technicians get creative with the articulation materials they use, and find things that work better for their particular needs and the needs of their customers. I've lately been trying out pieces of very thin natural cork with a piece of Tyvek envelope laminated on top of it, for any place where a very thin piece of material is needed, and especially under regulation screws. The Tyvek is almost impossible to tear, it's slippery, and it's extremely thin. Adding a backing of natural cork cuts down on the noise of the Tvyek (being very thin, it's also very noisy), and since the Tyvek itself is what makes contact, it protects the cork underneath from tearing.

Really, the best articulation material is what makes the customer feel comfortable with their instruments, so a technician must be capable of using all of them properly. As always, it is critical that a technician understand the tools at their disposal and be prepared to deploy them in order to suit the customer's specific needs and preferences.

Regulating the Lower End of an Oboe

On a full conservatory system oboe, regulating the lower end of the instrument can be a challenge for the uninitiated. Specifically, the keys controlled by the left hand pinky table present the technician with a lot of regulation screws and connections between keys that need to be adjusted to have little or no lost motion. The keys concerned are labeled below.

Before getting in to adjustments, there are a few things to check to make sure you have a solid set-up to build upon. If you're very confident that the instrument is already properly set up and just needs some tweaking, you can jump to step 7. It's always smart to mess with as few things as you need to.

1) Make sure the regulation screws at the bottom of the rod for the left hand pinky table are set to a neutral position. They're circled in the picture below. There needs to be a gap under each screw so that the pinky table can rock back and forth (at least a little bit) and won't contact the Eb closing spring and Bb linkage arm at the same time. If both screws are in contact at the same time, the Eb key may be held open. You'll adjust these screws later.

2) Also make sure there is a gap between the Eb closing spring and the arm on the back of the C key. The clearance in this spot is very tight, and it's not uncommon for the arm to press on the spring, which will hold Eb key open. If there is contact, the way I commonly address it is to file away a little bit on the bottom of the arm until there is clearance. Doing so will allow you to address this problem without altering the height of the C key or its relationship with the Eb key. The very tip of the arrow is where you want to look for clearance.

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3) Make sure the left hand pinky table is properly aligned and isn't bent. The Bb touchpiece sticks out further than any other key on the lower joint and is most prone to get bent. Make sure the arm leading to the Bb touchpiece is parallel to the arm of the Eb touchpiece and B touchpiece when viewed from above. Viewed from the side, they should also be parallel. (The left hand F touchpiece should also be parallel, but that's not involved in this procedure).

4) Check the height of the B and Bb touchpieces. Because things aren't regulated yet, they may not rest at equal heights, but press on the Bb touchpiece until it contacts the cork on the B touchpiece. When that contact is made, the two touchpieces should be at the same height. If they're not, you can change the cork to a different thickness, or bend the arm that the cork is glued to.

5) Make sure the B and Bb keys are at the same height. I'm assuming here that the pads have the same amount of protrusion from the key cups, and that the pads are already level to the toneholes. The height of the B key is controlled by a foot cork on the B lever that contacts the body. Keep in mind, if you change the thickness of that cork, it will alter the height of the B touchpiece. So it's generally better to adjust the height of the Bb key to match the B key. The height of the Bb key is either controlled by a foot cork on the bridge that contacts the body, or in the case of an instrument with a resonance key, the protrusion of the pad on the resonance key. More protrusion means that the Bb pad will be more closed, less protrusion means the Bb pad will be more open. If you need to adjust that, also look ahead to the next step and keep an eye on the bridge.

6) Make sure there is a gap between the bridge on the Bb key and the bridge on the lower joint. On an instrument without an adjustment screw or resonance key, you would just place a thicker cork on the bridge where it contacts the bell joint (slightly below the bell socket ring shown in this picture). On an instrument with a resonance key, make sure the adjustment screw is set to a neutral position. If there's still no gap, something is way out of whack. In any case, you would need to adjust the resonance key pad to change the height of the bridge, which will change the height of the Bb key (yuck). 

7) Now that everything has been verified as being properly set up, you can start regulating! Turn the right hand screw from the picture to regulate B to Bb. Tightening it (clockwise) will make the Bb close sooner. Loosening it (counterclockwise) will make the Bb close later. In other words, if the B key is closing and the Bb is still hanging open, tighten the screw. If the Bb is closing but the B is hanging open, loosen it. Regulation screw are supposed to a little tight (that way they stay in place for a long time), but if it's really resisting, don't force it, lest you break the head and make it into a much larger (and more expensive) project. Always use the largest screwdriver that you can fit into the slot. The more purchase you can get, the less likely the screwdriver is to slip or damage the slot. And always rest the instrument on a stable surface while turning screws. Trying to hold the instrument in one hand and turn the screwdriver with the other is a great way to end up with a screwdriver in your arm.

If you back the screw out all the way and the B key is still hanging open, you'll need to adjust the bridge key from step 6 a little more. You can back out that regulation screw further to gain a little more ground. This will, of course, create a larger gap in the bridge key, and you always want to strive for the smallest possible gap on oboe keys, but if you've done everything correctly, that gap will be addressed shortly. For now, the concern is getting the regulation correct.

8) Once the regulation is set, you'll adjust the left hand screw in the above picture to remove the gaps (lost motion) throughout the mechanism. The idea is to eliminate the gap between the B and Bb touchpieces (from step 4), and create a minimal gap between the bridge keys (step 6). This should be achievable by turning that left hand screw. Generally you'll need to tighten in (clockwise) to close those gaps. If you turn it too far, though, it will hold the Eb key open by pressing on the closing spring. Keep an eye on that key and check it constantly. Open it with the right hand touchpiece and let it close, then do the same with the left touchpiece. Do it a few times with each one and make sure that it closes fully each time. If it doesn't, go back to step 2 and double check that there is a gap between the C key and the closing spring. If that's not the problem, you've overtightened the screw, or there may be an issue with spring balancing (the spring on the Bb linkage arm needs to be weaker than the Eb closing spring).

Go back and check your gaps one more time. Again, there should be no gap between the B and Bb touchpieces, and a small gap between the bridge keys. These are actual pictures from after I completed the setup on this oboe, showing those two spots.

Only after completing the B to Bb regulation should you proceed to the Eb-D trill regulation (when present), the B-C# regulation (when present) and the C-Eb regulation. Whatever you do from this point, do not change the height of the C key, as it can mess up the Eb closing spring.

There! That was easy, huh? What an elegantly simple mechanism the oboe has!

Regulating oboes can be extremely trying, but doing it well is absolutely essential for quality work. Oboes are know for being unforgiving in their adjustments. A poor setup can mean the difference between an instrument that sings and one that is impossible to control.

In other news, my cat usually dislikes the sound of the oboe, but while I was writing this post he finally got close enough to give mine a good sniff.

It's Always Exciting to See Outstanding Work

I had this flute in for a cleaning last month. The owner last had it serviced when she was in high school in Indianapolis, so it's been 30 years since it was worked on. But the last person to work on it was David Straubinger, former flautist with the Indianapolis Symphony, developer and maker of the now-famous Straubinger Pads for handmade flutes, and to this day a highly respected flute technician. When the owner called me and said the flute hadn't been touched by a technician in 30 years, I told her to expect the worst when she brought it in. When I opened the case, though, I was surprised to that the pads were not only in excellent condition, but almost all of them were still level and sealing. The instrument really played like it had just been recently worked on, despite the fact that the owner had played up to four hours a day through her teenage years, and then put it away in a closet for a couple decades after that. There was nothing fancy about the pads or the way they were installed, but it was obvious that the work was done with a great deal of care and attention to detail. In any craft, the work speaks for the worker, and the story it tells can be either a good or bad reflection. You can learn a lot about a person just by seeing and studying their output - their work ethic, skill level, and sense of personal pride, to name just a few. This flute spoke volumes about how Mr. Straubinger developed such a strong reputation for excellent work, and presumably why he continues to enjoy that reputation today. His work tells an impressive tale, and it's made me think more about the story my work will tell 30 years on. I can hope it's a good one, but beyond that I need to work to ensure it's a good one. It's essential that any serious craftsman have vigilant adherence to the quality standards they set for themselves, and be unwilling to waver from them. 
Thinking about this has reminded me of a motto I repeat at least once a day, one I learned from another, more seasoned tech: "Just do a good job." No excuses, just straightforward work done to the highest standards I can achieve.

King Double-Bell Euphonium

This is just a neat instrument I recently got from a friend - a 1927 (or maybe '28) King double-bell euphonium (of "Seventy-Six Trombones" from The Music Man fame.)

(Oh, you say you don't get that reference? Well here's a little dose of campiness to bring you up to speed)

The second bell is activated by pressing the fourth valve. That reroutes air from the main bell to the second bell, giving a softer, less robust sound.

It looks like someone rebuilt this instrument and did a lot of dent work at some point, and they didn't do a bad job of it at all, though it was surely not a professional restoration. There's evidence that a lot of the solder joints have been redone, and hammer marks from some less-than-perfect dent removal. They managed to put it back together with everything straight, though, which is a tough job. Plus, they managed to not damage the plating! The gold wash in both bells is incredibly well-preserved except right at the rim. It's just about the finest gold wash I've seen.

The owner has had this instrument sitting around for awhile, playing it occasionally, but he hasn't done extensive maintenance on it, and has never sent it out for cleaning. It was completely black when I got it from him, so it was tough to tell the condition of the plating. Fortunately the satin silver turned out to be mostly intact, so things cleaned up very nicely.

I love these old engravings!

10,000 Hours Post

I did the calculations a while ago and realized that this past month I would be hitting my 10,000th hour at the repair bench. That means 10,000 hours actively spent repairing, not counting time off or lunch breaks or any such slacking off. I went with the most conservative possible estimate and came up with March 2014, around the middle of the month.

Reaching this milestone is traditionally a pretty significant event, dating back to the Middle Ages. In those days apprentices would take around 10,000 hours to master a craft, then would prove that mastery through the production of a master work or by passing a master test. Bringing that figure into the modern world, the 10,000 hour mark still seems to be a magic number. From athletes to musicians to writers and beyond, the mastery of any skill seem to require around 10,000 hours of practice. 

I sort of thought that around this time I would start to feel a significant burst of confidence, or start seeing my work as a series of ones and zeroes like Neo in The Matrix. Or that suddenly I'd start retaining a lot more information and applying it immediately to my work, like that episode of Star Trek TNG where Reg Barclay becomes hyperintelligent and takes over the Enterprise's computer with his brain.

Well, that last one may not be a great example. But I was hopeful that I'd undergo a transformation and suddenly would know that I'm an expert. So far that hasn't happened. But I have noticed some shifts in my approach to my work. Lately I have been trying a lot more new things, and feeling better about my ability to complete complex repairs. I've been weighing the pros and cons of a lot of techniques I've long taken for granted, too, and changing them when I think there's a way I can do a better job. My ability to analyze my own work has definitely increased, as has my ability to take criticism and apply it toward doing a better job. I find I'm less intimidated, as well, at asking questions of other techs and appreciating the truly outstanding work that many of them do. There was a time not long ago when that would have made me self-conscious and envious. Maybe I'm just growing more patient and focused. Those are supposed to be the hallmarks of a master.

So there it is! That means I'm a master now, right? If growing up has taught me anything, it's that I put in my time and now I should achieve my goal, just like getting a diploma or completing a steak in under 30 minutes for a free t-shirt.

But if you've read this far, you probably know what I'm going to say next, which is that it's not all that simple. And you're right. But here's the twist: I think that's a good thing. 

Ok, that's not much of a twist. But keep reading and I promise it will pay off. 

The status of master has a sense of dignity to it, and rightly demands respect. But it implies the achievement of a pinnacle, or at least a very high plateau. My perception of a master has always been someone who has achieved what they set out to do, and now gets to reap the benefits of their hard work while not having to try quite as hard. I've really gotten stuck on that last part lately, and realized that it was a complete misconception. A true master knows that they're capable of great accomplishments, and would never stop striving for further mastery in light of their past success. In other words, they would never stop trying as hard! A master is eager to seek out the things they still don't know. The edge they gain from their mastery is they can study new information and use their experience as a sieve to sift out what is substantive and relevant, then integrate that into their ever-evolving work. That italicized section makes a lot more sense to me now than the earlier bit, and forms the root of a much stronger philosophy.

Looking further into that philosophy, it's apparent that one key to becoming a master and continuing to grow in mastery is to constantly learn from your experiences and the wisdom of those around you. In effect, a master must be able to maintain the mindset of an apprentice. The apprentice absorbs whatever information he or she can find and uses it in focused practice, to build a library of experiences that we call knowledge. Later the master draws on those experiences, and continues to build on them, as they absorb new information. The mindset and the character qualities remain the same, though. These are qualities that a person must possess before they embark on the journey to mastery. One cannot hope to become a master if they lack focus, patience, and eagerness - which they will carry throughout a successful career.

I've reached my 10,000 hours, but I don't feel like a master. Maybe it will take a few more hours. I've read that mastery requires 10,000 of focused practice, and I'll admit there may have been one or two hours in there where I zoned out. Maybe it will take a few more years. The other milestone frequently cited to achieve mastery is 10 years, especially (for some reason) to master chess. I remember a speaker at my repair school saying that it took him 10 years "to be confident I could fix anything I screwed up." If you can do that, there's nothing but time between you and any successful repair. I'm about halfway to that 10 year mark, so maybe I'll feel like a master in another five years. Maybe it will take longer. Maybe in 15 or 20 years. Maybe there will be some other event that suddenly gives me that Neo moment. 

Or maybe it will never happen. Maybe I'll always feel like someone reaching for mastery. Maybe I'll look back and be pleased with how far I've come, then look forward to see that there's a lot left to learn and do.

I think I'd be OK with that.

Some the reading I did about mastery and the 10,000 phenomenon was on the Art of Manliness website. There are a few great articles about the topic at these links, some written by Robert Greene, the author of the book Mastery.
http://www.artofmanliness.com/2012/12/05/gaining-mastery-the-three-vital-steps-of-the-apprenticeship-phase/
http://www.artofmanliness.com/2013/05/16/the-first-key-to-mastery-finding-your-lifes-task/
http://www.artofmanliness.com/2010/11/07/the-secret-of-great-men-deliberate-practice/

Malcolm Gladwell's book Outliers also has a lot to say about the 10,000 hour rule. Full disclosure, though, I haven't yet read it. But maybe someone will buy it for me here?

Buffet English Horn Bonus Post - Crack Pinning with the JDB Method

Over the course of my first week with this instrument, I was playing it a lot in a show. After a few days I noticed a marked decline in its response, and an inability to hold a vacuum on the upper joint. Turns out the culprit was...

A crack around the lower octave pip. I was of course disappointed, but not too surprised by it. The instrument has sat unused for a long time and was all of a sudden getting played daily. Furthermore, this area is especially prone to cracking because 1) the top of any wooden instrument is where you'll most likely find cracks due to the huge amount of warm air and moisture that passes through the top of the bore, 2) the octave pip is a large piece of metal that doesn't expand and contract at the same rate as the wood, and 3) the hole for the octave pip is pretty large compared to the total circumference of the joint, so it creates a relatively large weak spot.

I discovered it only a few hours before a show, so I quickly filled the crack to stop it from leaking that night, then repaired it properly the next day. You can see in the first picture that I had to scrape away the temporary filler to clean it for the actual repair.

The crack was over an inch long, and cracks of that size are often repaired through pinning. The traditional method of pinning involves drilling holes across the crack at an angle, then inserting a threaded steel rod. The pin prevents the crack from being able to expand and contract, so ideally it will be stabilized and unable to grow. The crack is then filled, usually with a mix of superglue and wood dust. That's how I've done pinning in the past, and how a lot of people still do. It's still a very popular and perfectly viable method. However this time I wanted to try a new technique I recently read about, one that's been popularized by Julian Dale Barton, a technician from the Washington DC area. In his "JDB Method," an unthreaded carbon fiber rod is substituted for the steel rod. The procedure is quicker, the cleanup is a little easier, and since the rod doesn't actually get "screwed" in, there's less wood displaced. Otherwise, the process is largely similar.

You start by drilling the holes. They must be drilled at an angle to the crack, as that's what prevents the wood from being able to move once the rod is installed. I did two holes above the pip hole and two below. As you can see, it's a pretty invasive process.

Next the correct size carbon rod is dry fitted, and notched so that it can be broken off at the correct length after insertion.

The rods are installed and glued in place.

Then the ends are filed and smoothed so they don't protrude. The crack is also filled and dressed to hide it and add a little more stability.

After sanding the surrounding area a little bit and applying oil, this is how I left it for a few days while I was finishing up my recent gigs. The functional part of the repair is done at this point, and all that remains is cosmetic work.

A few days later I was able to clean things up and hide the pins. I started by grinding down the ends.

Then filled them with wood dust and glue.

Next is where the real art and finesse comes in to a repair like this. You want to blend things in so they're invisible, or at least redirect the eye so that no one would ever look for evidence of a repair. The result is below. If you look closely enough, you can see evidence of one of the pins, but otherwise they blended in almost perfectly. 

Having all the keys on helps divert the eye, too, because there's so much stuff up there that a lot of the wood is covered up by nice eye-catching silver. Thanks silver!

I'm very grateful to Julian Dale Barton for sharing this technique, which I'll be using on any cracks I have to repair in the future. If you want to see more of his work you can see his Facebook page here.

Next project - replacing the octave levers and doing away with that silly automatic mechanism.

Buffet English Horn Day 20 - 3/4/14

Today was the day - I had a deadline of 6pm to finish the english horn and play it in a rehearsal. Having mostly leveled the lower joint pads yesterday, I spent the first part of today rechecking all those pads and making final adjustments. Then all the regulation screws went back in and I started the regulation process. Along with that I had to adjust spring tensions, trim and replace corks to adjust key heights, and secure a few posts that kept coming loose. I also got to reinstall the post from that cracked area around the C# tone hole. I tried to reinstall it once before, but the post hole had a good bit of superglue in the threads which meant that the hole was smaller than it had been. When I tried to force the post in to place, it started to crack the wood again. So this time I took a post I no longer needed - in this case the lower post from the C#/Eb lever that I ended up replacing - and cut some slots in the threads so it would work like a tap by cutting away the excess glue and restoring the threads. I just used a Dremel tool with a knife-edge wheel to cut the slots.

After recutting those threads, the post went in nicely, with a little epoxy added to hold it in place. The area that was cracked is pretty much indistiguishable at this point. In the second picture you can just see where one of the cracks started just below the post and extended about an inch to the right. I'm really happy with how it turned out. Thanks to fellow tech Julian Dale Barton for sharing his technique for surface crack repairs.

Finally, with the pads all leveled, the keys fitted and installed, and the preliminary regulations set, it was time to get out my new bocal (a Fox 2XL - a gift to myself for finishing the project) and play this english horn for the first time in who knows how long. And...

It didn't play. Turns out I forgot to check the bridge regulations when I put it together. So I took care of that, took another breath and...

It played! Having never heard it before, I didn't know what to expect, but it actually sounded like an english horn! The tone is somewhat dark. It doesn't have the color that some players might desire, but I prefer a darker sound so this is right up my alley. Of course once I got it playing I realized that the wacky octave mechanism needed more adjustment, and there were a bunch of other regulations that needed tweaking, and the Low C# is really fuzzy (still working on that one), but it works! I was able to play it at rehearsal, and it felt good the entire time.

Of course that's not the end of the story. Over the coming days and weeks, things will settle in and I'll need to continue making adjustments. With an instrument that's sat idle for so long - at least 10 years and probably much longer - there's also the possibility that it may crack, although I suspect that if it was ever going to crack, it would have done so by now. Aside from that surface crack that came from being whacked, it clearly hasn't.

In the next few months I plan to make new octave levers so that I can do away with the automatic octave mechanism. I'd also like to make a left hand F key. I kept reaching for that this evening at rehearsal and finding nothing there. There's also some voicing that needs to be done to really make it sing, but for now it works perfectly well, and more importantly I was able to have it ready on time.

As I continue to tinker with it I'll try to update with more posts, but this part of the saga is over. In 20 days I was able to take a completely non-functional instrument that spent years sitting under a workbench and rehabilitate it into a beautiful instrument that I can take pride in and feel a deep connection to. Every time I take it out to play I can look back on this whole restoration process and know that I'm holding the product of my own sweat and blood. But mostly blood. A surprising amount of blood.

But in reality it wasn't a project I completed alone. I bounced lot of ideas off my coworker, Mike, and he bounced them back when they sucked. I had help from Tim the machinist at Peterson Machine who made the tone hole facers, my coworkers Cindy and Frank who ordered the bocal and case, and a network of incredibly helpful and knowledgeable repair techs who are eager to share what they know. And there's also my old college classmate Debbie, who sold me the instrument (thanks Debbie!) Most importantly, though, I have Steph, my understanding wife who allowed me to neglect her for 20 days while I obsessed over this project from a desk 10 feet away. Seriously, she's pretty incredible, guys.

If you've read any of this, thanks for taking the time! Here's a final before and after.

Before

After, alongside my oboe in a new double case (the case was also a present to myself)

On to the next project!

Buffet English Horn Day 19 - 3/3/14

Re re facing lower joint tone holes, gluing lower joint pads, seating, key corks, broken springs, tapping and gluing post into cracked area

Today is Monday March 3, my target completion date for this instrument. It's not a date I chose arbitrarily. I have a rehearsal for a show on my schedule at 6:00 this evening, and I need to play english horn. I was stressing about it overnight, because I don't see how I'll be able to pad the lower joint and make all the necessary adjustments by that time in order to be able to play it. The weather gods have been good to me, though, and the school that's putting on the show is closed today because of snow, which means tonight's rehearsal is postponed to Thursday. Add to that the fact that work opened late, and I had all morning to work on the lower joint. I corked all the keys, re faced the tone holes again using what I'd learned from the upper joint (they turned out great!) and faced and glued all the pads.

You may recall that cork pads, because they have almost no compression,need a perfectly flat and smooth tone hole surface to interact with. That also means that the pads themselves need to be flat. They come pretty flat from the manufacturer, but I always reface them by sanding with 600 grit sandpaper on a bench anvil in a figure 8 pattern. That ensures a flat and defect-free surface. It also allows you to thin out a pad if it's too thick for a particular key.

Since cork pads come as disks with no relief on the back, it's necessary to bevel the back of the pad. That way you can shift it around in the pad during leveling, and the glue behind it will have somewhere to go. I bevel pads by simply running a razor blade around the back. 

Next the pads get glued in to their key cups. The pads should fit neatly in the key cups so they can't shift from side to side, but they shouldn't be tight at all. A pad that's too tight will be difficult to move during leveling, making it nearly impossible to make the minute adjustments necessary to get a perfect level. If a pad is too tight, I glue the back of it to a screw or nail with a flat top, put that in my bench motor, and spin it while sanding a little bit off the sides. They get glued in with George's Glue (pictured), which isn't the only adhesive you can use, but it seems to be the

preferred choice of most techs for installing cork pads because it's very sticky and thick. A thick glue is better for allowing very small adjustments, whereas a runny glue would be more prone to shift around after you've leveled the pad. I check pad level with a pad slick that's .0005" in thickness, so the pads have to be level with the tone hole to within that tolerance. With the pads and corks on, it was time to go to work, so I had to stop for a while so I could get paid to fix other people's instruments. It's a pretty great gig, right?

When I resumed later in the day, I started by replacing some broken springs, installing keys, making final adjustments to key fitting, and leveling pads. The leveling actually went pretty smoothly, owing to all the prep work I'd done on the pads and tone holes. By the time I had all the pads in, though, I was pretty wiped out and done for the day, so I called it quits. The lower joint had a few more issues than the upper joint did, especially with those broken springs, so I kept getting sidetracked by little problems. Tomorrow I'll need to take some time out of work and hopefully finish up. And by "hopefully finish up" I mean that I ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO FINISH THIS THING TOMORROW. There's another rehearsal for the show scheduled for tomorrow night at 6:00, so come hell or high water this english horn will be able to produce some kind of sound within in the next 24 hours.

Buffet English Horn Day 18 - 3/2/14

Today was supposed to be devoted to padding the lower joint, but I tried to do so much on the upper joint yesterday - facing tone holes, getting that last 1% of key fitting, trying to level pads to the highest possible tolerances, etc. - that I needed to spend today finishing the upper joint. I did finish padding, though, and after that spent a couple hours fussing with regulation and adjustment screws. Regulating an oboe or english horn can seem like an endless back and forth, especially when working with cork pads that are extremely unforgiving. When two cork pads are regulated to each other (or in the case of the the G key on an english horn, three pads), they will either close at exactly the same time, or be completely off. There's no middle ground like there can be with skin pads, so I spent a lot of time finding just the right spot on each regulation screw. Of course, as things settle in over the next few days, those regulations will have to be further adjusted. It's like chasing your own tail. Or at least that's what I imagine it's like. I've never chased my tail, and I'm beginning to suspect I don't even have one.

I don't even want to get in to this convoluted mechanism.

The difficulty of regulating was compounded by the ridiculous automatic octave mechanism on this instrument. It opens the correct octave key (upper or lower) regardless of which octave lever you press, which is surely a nice feature for someone who doesn't play oboe or english horn that much, like a doubler. But if you know how to use both levers interchangeably, there's really no reason to have such a complex mechanism. Unfortunately there's no way to disengage the it, so it has to be set up, which took a lot of time to get right. Incidentally, the upper octave key is regulated to the G key, so I just realized that what I typed above about the G key closing 3 different keys is wrong. It has to close four keys. There's so much spring tension in those four keys that the G key feels extremely heavy, no matter how lightly the springs are set. My plan in the near future is to make a new octave mechanism that will work manually, just like it does on any other double reed instrument.

In the end, all that fussing and fidgeting seems to have paid off. The upper joint is padded and regulated, and draws less than one on the magnehelic machine with light finger pressure. If that statement means nothing to you, don't worry about it. Here's a picture!