Adventure #1 - Rebuilding An Antique Piano

Post #1 - The History Behind Stupidity

OK, I have to admit it up front - I've been here before.  And...  You think I would have learned my lesson from previous experience.  Experiences.

If you like music and play an instrument - I play guitar - and people know it, it's almost inevitable: "Hey, I (my parents, my children, my favorite auntie, my neighbor, insert the person of choice who wants to dump a piano) has this piano...  I know you're into music...  You know anyone who might want it?  They're willing to let it go for (again, insert your favorite price or lack thereof - free, you move it it's yours, $100, whatever) IF YOU WANT IT.

It's like offering candy to a baby.  A FREE (or close to it) piano???  Who the heck wouldn't want it?

First time it happened to me, it was around 1980 and I was too young to know.  In-laws had this "great" upright they were willing to let go for free.  I couldn't say no.  Forget that I had no formal training other than one semester of Piano I with Mr. Dugal as a senior in high school.  I knew I could learn how to play.  I played guitar after all and I knew where middle C was.  I knew how to play the intro to "Dream On" by Aerosmith.  How hard could it be?

That first piano was delivered to our ground-floor apartment through the screen door that opened into the kitchen.  And there it sat.  And sat.  And sat.  And stayed when we moved out.  Goodbye piano #1.  The keys that you used to play the intro to "Dream On" were pretty worn.

*****

Fast forward two or three years.  "Man, my parents have this piano they just have to get rid of.   It's FREE.  I know you're into music and all, you think you want it?  It's an antique!  Probably from like the 40's or 50's or something like that.  It may have some problems, but you know, you're good with this kind of thing..."

This time I had to think about it.  Already left one piano behind...  But now, I had this friend who actually played piano and we were starting to play music together.  But still...  Don't even know if this thing works or has problems.  But still...  How bad could it be?

After arguing back and forth in my mind, and then dickering about it with my now-ex-wife, I decided to make the jump.  Again.

Only THIS time, we were living on the third floor of an old house in NH.  That meant three back-breaking flights up stairs - luckily this place had a nice wide staircase with lots of wide curves and no real sharp turns and I had brothers-in-law as well as my piano player friend to help me get it up there.

And let me tell you, it made a great piece of furniture and a stand for all our other musical instruments.  Pete was able to plant his electric keyboard right on top of the keyboard cover, and the speakers and monitors sounded and looked great sitting on top of it.  I even rigged up a rack that held the synths (it was the late 80's), so it looked REALLY cool.

It seems that the soundboard had a lovely crack in it and if you banged too hard on a key, why, something deep inside snapped and the key just stayed down.  Not exactly easy to play.  So it became a piece of furniture and a great music stand.

When we moved, there was no option to just leave it there and make it someone else's problem - the people who owned the house were our friends.  So I corralled the same set of we'll-never-do-this-again friends, and we hauled it back down those three flights of stairs (rather than out a window, which was discussed).  Then down into the basement of our new townhouse, where my new studio was going to be.

And once again, it sat.

But I never really forgot it.  It kind of gnawed at me.  It's a musical instrument and it's just sitting there. 

I finally decided to take it apart and find out a) whether the soundboard was really cracked and b) why those pesky keys just stayed down.  It turns out that the jury was still out on the soundboard (I never did find out, but it always had a nasty buzz to it), but the key problem was easy.  At the back of each key a rod descended to a plastic L-shaped piece that attached to the piano action.  Plastic gets brittle when it gets old and if you stress it enough - like banging on a key - you can shatter them.

Luckily, my ex-wife's grandfather did woodworking and, when I brought him am intact plastic piece (still attached to the rod, otherwise it wouldn't be intact), he said he could make me 88 wooden pieces to replace the plastic ones.  I wanted 100.  Just in case, you know.

This is not a blog about that particular piano and the action hanging from the basement rafters or the soundboard trapping my toes so I couldn't lift it back up again until someone rescued me.  Maybe I'll tell that story sometime...  Suffice it to say that the broken plastic pieces were replaced with wooden ones, but plans to actually tune it (it wasn't THAT bad) or figure out how to fix the buzzing sound (only on the real deep bass notes and who plays those) or wire it up so we could record with it (I had great electronic diagrams) never came to pass.  When I got divorced and moved out of the house, that piano stayed there and passes from my history.

Another piano left behind.  And I swore I would never do it again.

Too heavy.

Too much work.

I don't really know how to play one (but I'd like to).

*****

But I never stopped looking, I couldn't seem to help myself.  An old upright in a junk store (they want how much for THAT??), an electronic version like the one my wife and I found in our favorite B&B in New Orleans (got remarried there - but do you know how much electronic player-piano Yamahas actually cost??)...  I couldn't help myself.  But all I did was look.

After all, I'd been there before.  I know, from painful experience, that pianos are more work than they're worth, and even if you get one for free, you pay for it.  Usually with a broken back and friends who will NEVER help you move a toothpick in the future.

I'll look.  I'll want.  But I won't be stupid...  After two times, I have learned my lesson.

*****

So this is a blog about about stupidity.  Quite possibly extreme stupidity... 

THIS time, no one gave me a piano for free. 

THIS time, I did my research and found out that most experts believe a piano of this age and type are an extreme lost cause and the best thing you can do for your wallet - and your sanity - is walk away. 

THIS time, I practically begged for it (well, not really, but it felt that way).

THIS time, I have no one else to blame except me - I'd include my wife, but that would be unfair - because I know, or at least think I know, what I got into.

This is a blog about a beautiful 1860-70 vintage English piano that we found in an antique/junk shop.  I've seen plenty of pianos, but this one stopped me in my tracks.  Built-in wooden music holder (original).  Brass candle holders so you can see the music on case the electricity goes out - that happened a lot in the 1860's, I hear (probably original).  Signatures from the late 1800's and early 1900's from the guys who tuned it (those HAVE to be worth what we paid for it, living history).  Scroll work on the case.

I walked away the first time.  In fact, I semi-walked away the second time.  As they say, third time was the charm.

This is a blog about my amateur attempts to restore this piano - I have no real idea what I'm doing and outside of my one previous experience of replacing plastic L-shaped pieces with wooden ones, no real experience.  But I also have nothing left to lose now that I own it - if this doesn't work, then I drop an electonic keyboard onto the key bed and I make it work that way.

But...  Who knows?  If I can make it work, then I have an instrument that was originally built about 150 years ago - and that's a huge incentive to learn how to play.

So, if you're interested, this is my - and my poor wife's - journey in trying to turn a beautiful pile of wood and strings back into something that is playable.  It should be interesting...