Disclaimer - If You read no other post, read this one

So...  Having done a bunch of research and read a LOT  of posts, I thought it might be wise - prudent, you might say - to post exactly what my intentions are and why I want to try this.  I think I'd like to save myself a lot of pain - and flame - down the road.

Let me state right up front what I would like to achieve and what I am - and probably more importantly, am not - trying to do here.

Let's start with the goals:

• I want a piano that can be played.  If it turns out that the only method is electronically, then so be it - not the desired outcome, but it's livable.
• I want a piano in tune with itself.  If it can't be concert pitch, than it can't be concert pitch; other instruments can tune accordingly.
• I want a piece of furniture that, when people walk in the house, they say "Ooooo".  At least with the cover down.
• I want to learn, perhaps the most important part...  I learned a bunch when I dissected the last piano, but that was mostly mechanical; this time I'd like to see what it really takes to get one playable.

Now, like I've said, I've read online a lot - especially about tuning and refinishing and restoring.  There are some people out there that believe if you can tune a guitar, you can tune a piano.  And some people violently oppose that opinion...  Actually, quite violently sometimes.

Some people believe that you can indeed rebuild/restore a piano yourself, and others believe that you really have to pay for it.

And, finally, some people believe that antique English pianos, especially English pianos, are total lost causes.  Wooden harps, humidity, loose pegs, poor engineering, you name it...  If I read "Walk away and find something decent" once, I read it a thousand times.

I get it.

So for all the nay-sayers, here's what I'm NOT trying to do:

• I do not want to be a piano tuner - well, not unless this turns out really well and my day job goes down the tubes.
• I do not expect to tune this instrument the way I tune a guitar.
• I do not want to be a piano restorer.
• I do not expect to do this - any part of it - without a lot of pain and learning (that doesn't mean it's not fun).
• I do not expect it to be cheap (athough cheaper that shipping it someplace and letting someone else have the fun).

In the final analysis, we bought this because we liked the way it looked, and fully intended to drop electronic guts into it.  If I go through this and that's what I end up having to do, then mission accomplished.

If, on the other hand, I can actually pull this off - to any degree - then how much better is that?  I'd rather preserve than gut, and I'd rather learn than just rip apart.

If anyone is reading this and has practical, constructive knowledge to share - bring it on!  I'm learning as I go and I usually learn by observation or doing - but I'll take any suggestions.  If you feel the need to tell me all the reasons why this can't or shouldn't be done (I've read enough flame-o-grams), then I'd respectfully ask that you keep those opinions to yourself.  I know, as best as I can, what I'm up against and I don't really want discouragement!

If it works, then totally cool.  If it doesn't, then I've got 88 ivory keys and some action to sell for spare parts to offset the cost of a keyboard.

One way or the other, it works out.

Post #6 - Let The Dice Fly

So...  I need to post more and catch up to where I am in real life.   As you may have surmised, if anyone is actually reading this, the posts so far are about three months behind real time.  There are actually not bad reasons for this - life has been absolutely nuts the past couple of weeks with work upheaval and I'm trying wrap my head around what I really want to to do with this piano.

Here's the final installment on how I got to the place, and then we'll start on the actual piano dismemberment stuff.  And I'll do a post at least every other day going forward.

...

After figuring out that this piano was really, REALLY and antique - and after reading all the reviews I possibly could about what to do with a piano such as this - I finished this journey by attending a scheduled lunch with my team at work.  Until recently, we try to do this at least once a month for the team members that are in Houston.

I was able to go to this one - a lot of time, as the manager I have conflicts and can't - but this one worked out.  So we all met at a local - very nice - Italian restaurant for lunch.



As part of the passing conversation, I mentioned that I had bought a piano, a piece of furniture really.  And that I was planning on refinishing the case to the best of my ability, and then probably gutting it and plunking an electronic keyboard into it.

For the most part, for those at the table who could hear the statement, there was silence.

One of my guys, who actually knows how to play piano, was upset, if not outraged.  I think the statement went along the lines:

"Why would you do that?  That is a musical instrument, not a piece of furniture!"

And that struck a little close to home, along the lines of what I'd already been thinking.  However, I tried to explain that I had done my research, this wasn't an "ordinary" piano with a cast iron harp (it's wood), and that every article I had read indicated that the sane, rational decision would be to either use it for firewood (if you bought it), turn it into a planter (again, if you bought it), or run away in the direction of a "real" piano as fast as you could (if you hadn't bought it).

"It's still a musical instrument.  I don't understand how you can just gut it"

So I tried again...  Not tunable, not capable of sustaining a tune if it were, probably warped due to age, yada yada and finally yada.  And if you care to do your own searches, you'll find plenty more.
 
Deaf ears on that side, then another well-meaning team member spoke up and said he had a piano that had been in the family for years that he'd be willing to sell.  If I wanted a real piano.



Now, he didn't say that exactly, but that's what my brain heard.  You just bought a pseudo-piano - no matter what you do, it will never play unless you take out the primary guts and throw in an electric keyboard.

And I walked away for that lunch starting to change my mind.  Thanks to Rob and Michael.  Probably neither of whom knew what they had brought about...

So I went back to my research...  At least $500, if I was lucky, to refinish and buy/fit an electonic keyboard.  Now, I knew that, sort of, going in - but it needed to be confirmed.

On the other hand, professional restorers wanted close to that just to look at it and tell me - probably - what I already knew.  And a total restoration, including shipping (thank the powers that be) ran anywhere from $3-6,000.  No way that was happening.  Not even for a piece of history.

And that's where it all started to come together...  What if...  What if I did the restoration myself?  Could I?  What would it take?  How hard would it be?

The more I thought about it, the more "desecrating" this piece of history that was also a musical instrument (maybe, with luck) just wasn't cutting it anymore.

So I started looking into how one - an amateur - could possibly do this.  And make it really work.

And that's where this adventure really begins.  Buying it and all the angst and planning that went into the decision was really just foreplay.  Now we had it, and now we had to do something with it.  And, unfortunately, I don't tend to do things halfway - I either do it or I don't.

And I was starting to believe that I did want to try something I had never dared before.  Refinishing (done), rebuilding (kinda), tuning (nope), repegging and restringing (never).

But here we go.