Consider the nail

Consider the nail.

The purpose of a nail, what it does, is to hold together two pieces of wood. The hammer does not perform that function, nor does the hand wielding the hammer. The fact that nails can conceivably be used in other ways does not alter their primary function.

The purpose of a gun – any kind of gun – is just as singular: what it does is propel a projectile into a body, human or otherwise, in order to inflict injury or death. The fact that it can also be used to shoot at some other object (usually a practice target, the purpose of which itself is to improve accuracy in performing the primary purpose) is irrelevant and does nothing to alter the primary function.

It is just as illogical to say “guns don’t kill people” as it is to say “nails don’t hold two pieces of wood together”.

But the intention behind the action is all that matters, right? We can’t blame the existence of guns. Well, let’s talk about intent.

The nail and the gun are both inanimate objects. Will a nail join together two pieces of wood without the intervening force of the hammer and the intent behind the hand holding it? Of course not, just as a gun is unlikely in the extreme to perform its function without the movement of its own hammer and the intent behind the finger on the trigger. Both require intention, aim, and purpose. Wait, I’m making the argument for you, you say? It’s all about intent!

Well, yes. But not in the way you’re thinking.

Anyone with a mind to destruction can inflict injury or even death on another with an almost infinite number of intervening “tools”. Even our own bodies and most inanimate objects found in nature can be used to injure, maim or kill a living being. Weapons are different. They are designed and manufactured to inflict harm. That’s what weapons do, that’s what they are. The manufacturers of Weaponry, being in the business of making products to be sold for a profit, want to sell more than their competitors. They make their product more powerful, more efficient, and more lethal in order to do so. That is their intent. And gun manufacturers have completely taken over the National Rifle Association (originally little more than an enthusiast’s club, and not the national lobbying powerhouse we’ve known since the 1970s) and through lobbying efforts have successfully convinced many Americans that they need weapons that are more powerful, efficient, and lethal simply to protect themselves. And they’ve successfully convinced many politicians that any attempt to limit the production and sale of these weapons is an attempt at limiting the rights of the citizenry. It’s brainwashing – the control of public opinion and policy – and it is the intent of the gun lobby; it’s what they do.

The problem is not that guns exist, or even that so many people seem obsessed with them. Hunting animals is a legitimate activity, and one which fills a long-standing and legitimate function in human society. One may not approve of hunting for sport, or may choose to oppose hunting on general moral grounds, but it’s easy to simply opt out, to not participate in that activity. No harm done. The problem is that guns that aren’t designed for hunting game, but that are instead designed specifically to kill large numbers of human beings as quickly as possible, are also available. Now, presumably these other humans are also similarly armed, and out to kill us as well. That’s why our armed forces and law enforcement organization legitimately carry such weapons.

Consider the gun: fires a projectile into a body in order to injure or kill.

Consider the gun manufacturers: will stop at nothing to continue to sell its products.

Consider the gun lobby: will attempt to control our legislators by any means necessary.

Now consider the nail again. The nail does what it does, because that is its purpose. As do the gun, its manufacturers, and its apologists.

Consider all of that, and the situation, the climate, that we find ourselves in in America today. Consider the real reasons behind what’s going on. And consider yourself, your friends, and your family.

What will we do?

Another reason to strive for excellence, or, How does ECM do that?

Being the detail-oriented person that I am, I have always taken the time to read the liner notes to recordings. Going back to the days when LPs were the industry standard, my SOP after a trip to the record store would be to park myself in front of my stereo, slice through the shrink-wrap with a fingernail (unlike some who just opened the edge allowing the vinyl to escape, I always completely removed the wrapping), and look at the inner sleeve. Sometimes it would be plain white, sometimes there would be advertisements of other offerings from the record company, but sometimes – and this was always a bonus - there would be mysteries revealed. Most common was to have lyrics and composer information, but there could also be photos, other artistic images, band personnel (I would feel somehow cheated if the band members weren’t listed somewhere on the cover or the inner sleeve), tour dates, personal notes from the artists, weird stories, band lore, thank-yous, or assorted other arcana.

Somewhere in there, usually, was information about the recording itself. The producer was most often listed first (before I learned better I used to think this was because the producer was always the Most Important Person behind the scenes), followed by the engineer, and sometimes even the tape operator, the tech personnel for the various instruments or band members, or the roadies who set up the gear for performances. If the recording studio itself was listed, it often had a generic name associated with the label (Atlantic, ABC, CBS, A & M) or some sort of more interesting appellation evoking a sense of quality or uniqueness (Mountain, Power Station, Mad Hatter, Electric Lady, Caribou, Air, Abbey Road, Talent, Avatar, Trident, and Rainbow are a few that come to mind, along with location-based recording venues such as Motown, Stax, and Rudy Van Gelder’s New Jersey home studio) that would lead the listener to wonder if the quality of the studio had anything to do with whatever was special about the sound of a particular album.

But it wasn’t until the early 80’s, when I began to study music seriously, that I really identified any one studio or record label with a particular sound. The album was “Standards, Vol. I” by the newly-formed Keith Jarrett Trio (recorded at Power Station Studio in NYC, by Jan-Erik Kongshaug, and released on the ECM label). I wouldn’t have identified it as such then, but going back now, there’s a transparency to the recording that is truly stunning and unique. Every note from the piano and bass can not only be heard, but identified. Each drum is discrete, and each cymbal clearly distinct from the others. Yet, with all this definition, there is still a wholeness to the sound which is compelling. There is reverb, but not at the expense of clarity; the sound of a performance in a cathedral, but with precision. This was my first exposure to the piano trio genre, and I was spoiled. As I expanded my palette to include Bill Evans, Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock, Oscar Peterson, Thelonius Monk, McCoy Tyner, Red Garland, Hank Jones and others, I was rewarded with musical excellence and even transcendence, but there was, more often than not, something missing from the quality of the recordings. As a bassist, I noticed the lack of clarity most when I tried to transcribe bass lines; not only were the notes themselves lacking clarity, but the piano and drums seemed to cover the sound of the bass like a blanket, no matter how sparingly they were played. Lifting Gary Peacock’s lines from the Jarrett recordings, on the other hand, was like child’s play, as each note fairly leapt out from the soundscape, waiting to be plucked like so much ripe fruit.

[This recording style has lent itself quite successfully to other artists and instrumentations, including Pat Metheny, Gary Burton, Jan Garbarek, Dave Holland, John Abercrombie, Peter Erskine, and Kenny Wheeler. Also represented in the catalog are contemporary classical recordings (the ECM New Series) and more experimental crossover music such as the excellent Nik Bärtsch’s Ronin. All are examples of the same attention to detail and clarity evinced by the Jarrett Trio recordings.]

Fast forward to the present day, and to my current focus as a piano technician. I have been going back to my record collection (now including CDs; I still read the liner notes while listening for the first time) and listening to the piano in a different way, now trying to focus on the sound of the instrument in order to isolate issues of tone and tuning, hoping to glean insight that will help me to become a better technician. The first thing that occurred to me was to learn exactly how the piano was recorded, thinking that made the largest difference. What microphone(s) were used? Where are they placed? What type of post-production trickery is used to get the best possible sound? There turned out to be as many answers to these questions as there were recordings, with every engineer and pianist having their opinion on the “right” way to record a piano. As I continued to listen, I kept coming back to the ECM recordings from Talent Studio and Rainbow in Oslo, and Power Station in New York, which seem to stand head and shoulders above the rest. They seemed to have found a way to make the piano sound better than other pianos; ein Überklavier. The reverb used is significant, but there was something more than that. A spectacular instrument? More than likely, but how then to explain the sound being consistent over a period of years, and across oceans to different recording studios? I would think about this, then let it go for a time, always shrugging and saying “I don’t know what they do, but I sure like it”.

I recently came across an interview with Jan-Erik Kongshaug, aforementioned recording engineer for ECM and credited as such on many of the label’s recordings that I hold in highest regard. The entire interview, conducted by John Kelman for the website All About Jazz, is very informative and can be found here. The part that caught my eye, though, was this:

One of the aspects to recording that has made Kongshaug's name has been his attention to piano sound, though he has a surprising opinion as to why he achieves such a rich sound, while so many others do not. "I always get this question," Kongshaug says, 'what kinds of microphones do you use, where do you put them?' I don't think it's that important at all; you have to have a good condenser mike—I usually use a Schoeps or a Neumann—but that's not important. You have to have a good tuner; you have to keep the piano in shape. Every session it's tuned. I have one very good tuner, and one backup; if not, it's not the same instrument. [emphasis in original]

Keep in mind: this is the Engineer talking, the person who is almost universally acknowledged as The Guy Responsible For How The Recording Sounds. And he is stating in no uncertain terms that the piano technician/tuner has more to do with how the piano sounds on the recording than does he. Going back to my liner-note-perusal habit, it bears mention that rarely, if ever, is the piano technician credited, even while those responsible for guitar, drums, or even electronic keyboards (!) are given a shout-out.

Musical myopia can be a terrible thing. All this time I had been assuming there must be something of the magnitude of a top-level-national-security-type protocol which was known to only the elite at ECM and other recording studios which enabled them to take the sound of the piano in the studio and improve on it electronically, when what’s actually going on is that the piano is well taken-care-of and masterfully tuned before each recording session. This is both inspiring and frightening. It means: not only do I as a technician have the ability (theoretically) to make a piano sound like that, but also the obligation, if I’m to be truly honest with myself, to shoot for that level as often as possible.

Kongshaug goes on to say that the amount of attention paid to the piano depends on the type of music, the touch of the pianist, and the order in which the music will be recorded. He also says that when the musician requests that the piano be tuned to A-440 (Hz, or cycles per second, 442 being the default pitch level at Rainbow) it is tuned twice: once the day before the session and again the day of. One must assume that any issues of voicing, action regulation, or touchweight/friction which the artist points out would be taken care of with the same attention to detail, for as technicians are aware, a truly exceptional-sounding instrument is not just well in tune, but also superbly voiced and regulated.

We don’t all get to work for recording studios or in situations where the piano will be recorded out in the field, but those of us who do need to keep all of this in mind as we work. And there can be nothing lost by putting oneself in the mindset that the piano may be used in a recording, and should be made to sound its absolute best – just in case. For my part, I have even more ammunition for my continued enjoyment of the recordings from the ECM library, as I have a better idea now than before of why those instruments sound so incredibly good, and it relates directly to what I do. Expressed syllogistically: It’s the Technician. I’m a Technician. Therefore, I could potentially do that.

I'm glad there is - VII

Each year in July I find myself spending far too much time in front of the television, marveling at the athleticism, skill, and sheer force of will on display at this event. I have to admit I'm not so much of a fan as to seek out coverage of the other cycling events of the season, but Le Tour grabs me every time. Just over 2263 miles in 23 days; sounds impressive, right? But wait: factor out the two rest days, bringing the average miles per day to just under 108. Okay, then, factor out the two time-trial days (not that these are negligible by any means, as they are simply all-out, every-man-for-himself sprints against the clock) of 5.5 and 32.3 miles (that's right, a 32-mile SPRINT) which are themselves as challenging as any other stage. This brings the average mileage on the other 19 days to 117. But wait: Only 9 of these 19 days are on what the organizers call "flat" roads. There are also four stages classified as “medium” mountains, and six classified as “high” mountains. And these are real mountains, friends; we’re talking about the Alps and the Pyrenees here. To make it a bit more difficult, three of the mountain stages end at the summit.

One of these is this years’ Stage 17, the 20th day of the tour, from Pau to the Col du Tourmalet. The ride will cover 108 miles, with four climbs, in this order: one of Category 4, 2 of Category 1, with the final climb to the finish designated as Hors Categorie (above category)*. Summing up, the riders will travel over 100 miles, climbing over three mountain passes and ending at the summit of a fourth.

The winner of the stage will finish in a little over 5 hours.

Think about that. That means averaging over 20 mph, for five hours, in the mountains. Next time you have occasion to be driving in a car at that speed, take a moment to look out the window at the passing scenery, and imagine gaining and maintaining that velocity without the assistance of 4, 6, or 8 cylinders.

And that’s just one day. Other days will include similar topography, varying degrees of road surface integrity (this year two stages will include stretches over cobblestones - not nicely laid brick roads as we still see from time to time in America, but actual stones, with gaps and sharp edges), wind, and rain.

Can there be any doubt that these are some of the world’s most impressive athletes? And don’t talk to me about doping (the riders are tested incessantly) or tiny concealed motors (the media’s favorite topic of controversy this year). Yes, there have been and will be those who try to gain an edge by unethical means, but I really don’t care. Watch these guys, and you will see human beings (you can tell from the blood that comes out of them when they crash, the tears when they are forced to withdraw before the end, and the joy on the face of a stage winner crossing the finish line) competing in a sport watched by few (at least in the US), without nearly the level of financial incentive enjoyed by other professional athletes (most of whom, by the way, would not be able to complete one day of the tour).

So why do they do it? Fame? Yes, you have Lance. You have Contador, and Sastre. Vinokourov. The Schleck brothers. Leipheimer, Hincapie, and Vandevelde. You have racers who have achieved heroic, almost mythic stature in their homelands. Hinault, Merckx, Coppi, Indurain. But I think most of the riders do it simply to be able to say that they can and did. Nothing more complicated than the sense of achievement that comes from testing the limit of your endurance and skill.

And that’s pretty damn cool.

*The categorization of the climbs is somewhat confusing, weighing distance traveled against average grade (a 5% grade is one where five vertical feet are gained for every 100 feet of forward travel). Category 4 is the least difficult, Category 1 the most, and HC beyond even that. It’s not a strictly linear scale, however; a 12% grade may be part of a Cat 2 climb, if it’s short, and a Cat 1 climb may only average 6%, but be 15-20 miles in length. A climb may be designated HC if it is difficult in the measurable extreme, because of overall altitude, or because it comes at the very end of the stage, with the finish line at the summit. Interestingly, the descents don’t factor into the designation, in spite of the fact that the degree of difficulty of traveling 50-60 mph down winding mountain roads is, shall we say, not insignificant.

365 days ago...

I woke up in my apartment in Pittsfield, MA, headed in to Lenox for my first pre-work coffee, and then drove to the Tanglewood grounds for the first time to meet with the rest of the summer 09 piano tech team. What a great memory, and what a great summer it was.

This year I'll be remaining in Illinois, to spend time with the lovely Ms. V, tend the garden, gather the work that's available, and continue the journey back to being a musician, in whatever way that presents itself. A summer with much potential.

The Once and Future Performing Musician

About a month ago, I made the decision to attempt to regain my playing skills on acoustic and electric bass. I last attempted this over an approximately two-month period in early '09, having not played at all since June of '07. It was painful then, and more painful now, but after a month I am approaching the point where I can play for an hour without significant discomfort. The pads and callouses were almost totally gone, and if I'm to really make a go of it, I need to avoid injury, so it's slow going. What's interesting so far, though, is what material I'm drawn to on each instrument. With no immediate performance goals ahead, I can be open to whatever my fingers tell me to work on.

I'm also continuing my baby steps towards becoming familiar with the Chapman Stick, an amazingly cool instrument I acquired about a year and a half ago. I've no idea where that will fit in, but it's fun to mess around with.

The practice cave:

I'm glad there is - VI

There are a few artists whose music brings a smile to my face every time I listen, and Monk is one of those. He left us to be the curators of his recorded legacy 28 years ago last month. Thanks to Phil at Wine Knows for rekindling this particular listening fire.

Random thoughts

I have both the time and the inclination to write a few random thoughts:

1) I really like baseball, even when the Cubs aren't involved. Watching the level of play in the playoffs is very much like watching the NCAA Men's Basketball tournament. Much appreciation for the skills. I am starting to think that there should be more use of replay, though. If the announcers in the broadcast booth can clearly show a mistake was made within seconds, a member of the umpiring crew in the booth could do the same and relay the information to the field. I don't think anyone, years from now, would look back fondly and say "I miss the days when botched calls could affect the course of a game".

2) Every winter is harder for me to approach. This year, we have had a very sudden transition, coupled with the fact that summer wasn't that warm to begin with. I'm feeling depressed and I know that temperature and shortened days have a major role. Moving south is looking more and more attractive.

3) If Iowa can beat MSU in East Lansing on Saturday, I'll start believing they're for real this season.

4) I enjoy the challenge and variety of working on pianos, but I also miss playing music with great musicians.

5) In spite of some things, life is, actually, pretty good right now.

6) The balloon parents should go to jail. That's all I have to say about that.

7) Facebook is interesting, intimidating, and annoying, in equal measure.

Taking one's own advice

The past few days have been an exercise in practicing what I preach, especially in terms of job applications. An opportunity has presented itself, one that I would have told anyone else they'd be crazy not to pursue, and yet I hesitated. "Applying doesn't mean anything except that you've applied" is what I would say, "it's free, and is infinitely more likely to result in something positive than not applying." "Let things take care of themselves from there". Good advice - and with the help of others, I took it, hopefully not too late to effective. We'll see.

Re-creation

Getting back into the swing after some time off and an excellent week spent at V's family cabin in NW Wisconsin. An actual vacation, my first in some time, and it really did what a vacation is supposed to do: rejuvenate and restore my energy. Now I feel ready to move forward in a way I didn't after returning home from T'wood. I needed some time to absorb the experience, I suppose. So - more letter-writing, resume-sending, phone-calling, and general pounding of the virtual pavement, in addition to responding to a couple of contacts attempted while I was out-of-service in the north-woods. Also getting ready to make a work/play circle through Iowa starting this weekend.

I'm glad there is - V

I listened to this twice on the way home on Saturday. It seems a part of the culture now, but I wish I could go back to 1969, with my 48-year-old ears, and hear this for the first time again. There is just SO MUCH here to delight the active listener. As a bassist, I can go through it and marvel at Sir Paul's playing; so active and melodic and ahead of many of his peers. The songwriting, well, not much to say there that hasn't been said elsewhere and with more eloquence. The guitar sounds! From clean to the dirtiest, all at the appropriate times. The singing, from all four boys. The Medley: pure inspiration, and I don't care how much of it was George Martin's idea. The metric modulations in "The End" and in the transition from "Mean Mr. Mustard" into "Polythene Pam" were the first I ever identified in pop music back when I was just learning what the phrase meant. I can't help but wonder how many times Freddie Mercury and the other members of Queen put this on their turntables before recording A Night At The Opera, and in particular, "Bohemian Rhapsody".

A recording completely of its time, yet still timeless.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig...

Ahh, nothing like being home again after an extended absence. Keeping busy with work, including updating the resume and preparing contact items for my existing customers. Also getting back into domestic duties, which feel surprisingly un-mundane right now. I made an heroic foray into the email in-box this morning, which had swollen to over 100 items in need of varying degrees and types of attention. Now down to only 3. I'm starting to formulate plans for a near-future trip to Iowa, for purposes both piano related and not.

Sadly, my Cubs appear to be backsliding into the bottom half of the NL Central, with uninspired play and silly mistakes abounding. I continue to blame Larry Rothschild (pitching coach), but that's an ax I've been grinding for years now. Here's hoping that in another month things will have turned around, in time for the game V and I will attend in Milwaukee to actually mean something, but it seems unlikely at present.

I saw the photo this morning of the assault-weapon-wielding protester at the Obama rally, and it made me shake my head. Can anyone truly see this as reasonable? I wonder: for people who support gun rights in general, but haven't given it any deep thought, does the image of someone toting an AK-47 at an outdoor public rally give them pause? Maybe there will be an effect from this photo that will surprise the nuts who support this piggyback fringe aspect of the gun laws. I'm no gun-control supporter, generally, but this is just plain silly.

Final Tanglewood post

Notes from the Berkshires, Day 75

Bernstein Pavilion, 8.50 a.m.

Waiting for the rest of the team to arrive at Ozawa for a final coffee run together. Last night was the last supper:


L-R: Steve Carver, John Stothoff, Yours truly, Emily Townsend

A nice gathering, with much talk of the future.

This morning I tuned the B in Maple one last time. This is a lovely way to wind up, as it was also the first B I put my hands on here, way back some ten weeks and 70 or so posts ago. Speaking of posts, I just noticed that I have surpassed 50 pages of writing in the Word document containing this blog; it’s been a great way to keep track of this amazing experience, and I’m hopeful that the writing bug will continue to afflict me in the months to come, back in Illinois.

In the spirit of keeping track, this was my reading list for the summer:

• Shopclass as Soulcraft; An Inquiry Into The Value Of Work, by Matthew B. Crawford
• The Lenox School of Jazz, by Jeremy Yudkin
• Slippage, by Harlan Ellison
• Foucault’s Pendulum, by Umberto Eco
• Four Freedoms, by John Crowley
• Girl With Curious Hair, by David Foster Wallace
• Armageddon in Retrospect, by Kurt Vonnegut

I hope to write a little about some of these in a future entry.

This will most likely be my final post from Tanglewood, as I leave very early tomorrow morning and will be spending most of the balance of today in preparations.

Wrapping up

Notes from the Berkshires, Day 74

Bernstein Pavilion, 8.44 a.m.

A grey morning, with sprinkles. Yesterday it was different at Ozawa Hall:




And tomorrow it should also be nicer, perhaps starting later this afternoon.

I’ve covered two pianos already this morning, the last two I really needed to check this week. I’ll probably tweak a couple later today and tomorrow, but for the most part, I’m done. One of the pianos this morning was a little exercise in speed tuning I set for myself, and I accomplished a complete tuning in 40 minutes. Not my best, to be sure, but not bad, and certainly better than I found it. Ten weeks ago I wouldn’t have been capable of that.

Today we get an opportunity to purchase Tanglewood-related items at the gift shop at a 30% discount, bringing it near the realm of the affordable for the itinerant piano technician. Also later, a last meal with the team. Really winding down now.

PotD – the C & A B in Ozawa Hall I:



II:

Lasts

Notes from the Berkshires, Day 73

Bernstein Pavilion, 4.46 p.m.

A couple of missed days, due to primarily laziness, but also schedule and lack of internet access. Nothing terribly important to report, other than a lot of “last”s, as the week winds down and I perform certain tasks and activities for a final time.

Monday was our trip to NYC, where we visited Steinway Hall, including the Concert & Artist section in the basement, where virtually every major pianist of the past 100 years has set foot in order to test and select pianos for performances and recordings. Tone of history in a very modest, unassuming location in a basement in midtown Manhattan. We also visited a few other dealerships along “Piano Alley” on 58th St. and also wandered around Central Park for a short time. The weather was truly summer-like, very hot and humid. We left to beat the traffic and were back at the grounds around 6 p.m.

A very nice lunch and visit with my Aunt Dianne yesterday. My dad’s sister, she has been a musician and teacher for most of her career, and is recently retired. Had a good time catching up on the activities of my cousins, whom I haven’t seen in quite a long time.

Finalized plans for the week, including keeping up with a couple of pianos which see significant use between now and Saturday. Otherwise, it’s really a matter of finding things to do, as most of the pianos are idle at this point. Looking forward more and more to being home, but not perhaps to the drive: 14 hours is going to be more of a challenge for me at 48 than it was at, say, 25.

New coffee

Notes from the Berkshires, Day 70

Dottie’s Coffee Lounge, Pittsfield, 9.41 a.m.

It’s a grey-ish morning, but I’m still on my normal Sunday schedule, with a new wrinkle – a coffee shop I had known about for some time, but hadn’t visited. If their hours of business were more agreeable to my morning schedule, I would have been here much sooner, and that would have been an improvement over the Lenox shop in terms of value and atmosphere. A decent Americano, and Talking Heads on the sound system, even.

Had a very nice, if brief visit with friends D and G yesterday afternoon; gave them a tour around the grounds, introduced them to Steve, and then headed down to Lenox for a late lunch. Afterwards, I went to the grocery store, then for a run, and then home for a relaxing evening and an early crash. Touring around the Tanglewood facilities, I was reminded of the tour I was given back on June 1st, how odd it felt to be leading others around, and how it seems like that was so long ago. D is doing well, with some work coming in and some more on the horizon, which gives me a good feeling about getting back and getting A is A running again.

The rest of the plan is for one last Berry Mtn. hike, and also a final stop at the Olde Forge. Tomorrow is our team trip to NYC and Steinway Hall. One week from today, barring any alterations in plan, I will be home with V enjoying the Sunday Trib and home coffee.

Bear sighting?

Notes from the Berkshires, Day 69

Bernstein Pavilion, 12.08 p.m.

Yesterday’s technical session was very good. Lots of excellent information presented about Steinway (also Boston & Essex) regulation, with good visual aids and some work inside the piano as well. Eight attendees all told, and we were each given as a party favor the new CD-ROM of the Steinway Technical Reference Manual – no small gift, that. By the end of the day we were all pretty fried, and a few of us headed to the brewpub for refreshments.

This morning I tuned in the Chamber Music Hall (both the B and the 163), and after a cup with SC went to Hickory where I found the 163 there to be significantly flat, due to our recent spate of dry weather, no doubt. One thing that has definitely improved during the course of the summer is my ability to tune at an accelerated rate. The 163 in the CMH this morning was really just a touch-up, and I got through it in about 40 minutes. Otherwise, I’m consistently completing decent tunings in 90 minutes or a little less, with more accurate and detailed work still taking me closer to two hours. Much faster than when I arrived here 10 weeks ago!

I’m hanging around the grounds now waiting for the arrival of friend and former CSPT classmate DS and his wife, here for this evening’s Shed concert. I’ll give them a tour of the grounds, hopefully have them meet the other techs, and then perhaps head out for lunch with them up in Lenox. After that, I plan to head home for a run. The weather today is nearly ideal, and many people are already arriving for the afternoon and evening activities. There was a report of a bear sighting near the grounds this morning, but I haven’t seen any evidence that it’s curtailed the movement of people out and about.

Press Porch and Productivity

Notes from the Berkshires, Day 67

Bernstein Pavilion, 3.11 p.m.

Piano of the Day:



This is the Steinway Model L that lives in a space called the “Press Porch”. Connected to one of two old residences on the grounds, it is used for pre- and post-event broadcasts and at times for the media to meet visiting guest artists, conductors, and other dignitaries. It’s one of my favorite pianos here to tune, and also one of my favorite locations. It doesn’t get used often, though, which is a shame.

I’ve had a pretty productive day, starting with a tuning on the B in the Chamber Music Hall (actually needed, as it was in use on the recital last night, and during the night it got quite chilly, sending the instrument south of 440), followed by a brief session with Steve on the M in Manor House room 6, where he helped me to diagnose a sostenuto problem I discovered late yesterday. Of course, he was able to identify the cause immediately, just by the noise being made. Someday…

From there I went to the Ash building for tuning and an hour of regulation work before lunch. Mostly successful. After returning to the grounds, we met as a team briefly, and then I went off to tune in the Maple space. This is a piano which I will be tuning tomorrow morning for evaluation by Steve, and I wanted to check it today to make sure it wasn’t doing anything funny. Good thing I did, as it really needed to be raised in pitch as well, probably for the same reason as the B in the Chamber Music Hall. So I got that out of the way, leaving tomorrow morning open for a fine-tuning.

The weather is cooperating once again, and I plan on a run after heading home shortly. Tomorrow after my tuning evaluation we will spend the rest of the day on a technical presentation from Kent Webb of Steinway, visiting from New York for the day. He’ll talk about action regulation, and a few other area techs will join in for the fun.

First call for work after my return to Illinois came today – a good sign.

Weightlessness

Notes from the Berkshires, Day 66

Bernstein Pavilion, 1.06 p.m.

The performance of the Mark Morris Dance Group last night was excellent. Unfortunately I was driven from Ozawa Hall by a literal swarm of mosquitos before the end of the first half, bug spray notwithstanding. I can now say that I’ve seen Yo-Yo Ma perform live and in person, however, no small experience. The dancers were extraordinary; I’m always struck by the sense of weightlessness on display at such a performance. An illusion, and a carefully crafted one, but no less entertaining for all that. It also inspired in me a desire to re-investigate yoga as an exercise alternative.

A good session on voicing this morning in Manor House 7 on the Aspen L. Steve demonstrates good hammer-filing posture and technique:



A closer look reveals felt taken from previously-oversized hammers. Enough, even, to assemble a small sheep:



Proper relaxation techniques are essential to quality voicing work:



Small frustrations are beginning to pop up. In addition to yesterday’s unnecessary tuning in Maple, the concert for which I tuned yesterday in the Chamber Music Hall turned out to have not a single piece on the program that used piano. Sigh. I’m also swearing at pianos more often than I normally would. Still and all, I continue to learn new things every day, and the good far outweighs the not.

Dryness

Notes from the Berkshires, Day 65

Bernstein Pavilion, 6.42 p.m.

Two beautiful days in a row! I think the last time this happened was some time during the first two weeks here, near the beginning of June. For a change, it was actually pleasant to walk across the lawn by the Shed, instead of taking the “dry cut” around the paved/gravel pathways that skirt the grounds. No soggy feet – yippee!

I managed to squeeze in two tunings before 9.30 this morning, in a space where it appeared there was going to be a rehearsal using both at the same time. Got them tuned together, and reasonably well, only to discover later as I walked by that it wasn’t two pianos, but a piano four-hands part. Oh well – it never hurts a piano to put it in tune. After that Steve, John and I went for coffee, and I continued on with pianos in the Press Porch and the Chamber Music Hall, where I checked out the tuning I had done yesterday afternoon, and brought in a few unisons that had drifted, in preparation for a recital there early this evening. From there I headed to the East Barn, and touched up the tuning on the Boston there. That took me until about 2.30, at which point I couldn’t stand it anymore and headed back to Pittsfield for a run. I managed the long one again, third time in a row, but my legs were complaining by the end. In a good way, though. Stretched, showered, and hit Miss Hall’s for dinner before coming back here where I’ll attend the open dress rehearsal for the Mark Morris Dance Group.

There’s definitely a sense of “time to go” circulating around the grounds, and through the piano team. Unavoidable, I suppose, and I’m as susceptible as anyone, especially given what V’s been going through and my desire to be there to help her. In some ways, next weekend can’t come soon enough.

Work and Music

Notes from the Berkshires, Day 64

Bernstein Pavilion, 10.48 a.m.

Had a very relaxing weekend, with my usual exercise and a bit of traveling around for coffee and beer. I’ll miss the Olde Forge, but it will be great to get back to Firkin in Libertyville as well. The weather cooperated for the most part, or at least enough to let me get my hike in yesterday morning. Also hit the bookstore one last time, to pick up something to get me through the rest of the evenings at the apartment.

This week I’ll be concentrating on getting all of my pianos as playable and stable as possible, with the idea in mind that they need to be in great shape and well in tune when I finish up next Friday. That means regular visits to the performance venue instruments, particularly the Bs in the Chamber Music hall and Maple studio. Fortunately, the instruments are generally tending to stabilize, although pitch is still somewhat of a mystery; one would think with all of this rain and humidity things would always be sharp, but in fact I’ve done more pitch raising than lowering. Probably has something to do with the unusually cool temperatures.

There are also good concerts to see this week, starting tonight with an all-Stravinsky concert featuring the Firebird, Pulcinella, and the concerto for piano and winds with soloist Peter Serkin. This will be my first TMC fellows orchestra concert (as opposed to the BSO). Tomorrow we’re invited to the dress rehearsal of the Mark Morris Dance Company performance which features Emmanuel Ax and Yo-Yo Ma. Should be a treat. On Friday Kent Webb, a technician from Steinway will come to deliver a couple of tech sessions to the team, and then a week from today we’ll pile into SC’s car for a trip to Steinway Hall in NYC.

Things are moving very quickly.