(no subject)
This weekend I spent a big chunk of time finishing my little hobby project, a 1910 Estey folding reed organ.
(I'd show you pictures/video except Livejournal says I've reached my limit and after 22 years can piss off. Not bitter.)*
Ahem.
Reed organs were very popular in the 19th and early 20th century for home and public entertainment (especially before radio and recordings made music more widely available) and there were many manufacturers of them here and in Europe. They were also widely used in churches, being very much cheaper (and easier to maintain) than pipe organs, with some large models being nearly as dynamic, impressive and LOUD. A few manufacturers also made portable models designed to be used by traveling shows, church revival gatherings, etc.
I’ve had two portable or “folding” reed organs over the years now, and two parlor models (giant wooden confections of indoor furniture), and done extensive work on three of the four. My first one, a huge parlor model, was brought home to my second-floor apartment in many many pieces (I did not have a large vehicle), and so after repair and reassembly, it would BARELY fit down the stairs when it was time to move out. If I recall correctly the last five or six steps consisted of an uncontrolled tumble. It was pretty rough after that.
Actually it was pretty rough before that. AFTER that, it “worked,” and that was all you could say about it.
Anyway, with the departure of my last portable model to that composer in Brooklyn (who used it to great effect on a collaborative album) and the departure of my last parlor model (to an enthusiastic young fan of early twentieth-century music), I was fresh out of reed organs (as one can be) and so when I saw this one on Facebook Marketplace for what I considered a quite reasonable $75, I impulse-bought it.
Reed organs are just like giant accordions, but all the air goes one way through it (unlike the squeeze-and-pull of an accordion action). Pumping the two foot pedals works a pair of bellows that suck air (they’re “exhausters”) past a reed when you push a key. A common space connecting them is also fashioned as a bellow, but springs hold it open so the volume of air (vacuum, actually) in it absorbs the pulses made by your feet alternately operating the exhauster bellows so you can hold a note without it wavering.
ALL the bellows in the 1910 Estey were gone. Not just bad, but gone. The remains of the rubberized cloth that they were made of (conveniently swept into a box for me) looked like so much black cornflakes. No matter, I know how to replace the fabric using (the correct) animal hide glue.
The problem unique to this one (for me) is that I had nothing to make a pattern from, to know how wide the bellows should be when open. Not a huge problem in the exhauster bellows, which are normally held closed with a spring and whose travel is limited by the movement of the pedals, but the reservoir bellow, which COULD be almost any size and would work, but needs to be small enough to leave for the other parts to move properly, and for the organ to fold down into crate form for travel.
My first task was to figure out how the whole bellows mechanism was supposed to work, including accommodating the folding. The bellows is made of two boards each, connected along one side by a hinge made of cloth strapping and completely enclosed by rubberized fabric. The hinges were torn off, and the boards were loose in a box with the cornflakes of disintegrated material. Lining up the bits of hinge still glued to each board sorted that relationship out, and figuring out how much the pedals could reasonably move sorted out how big the exhauster bellows needed to be. It was the reservoir that was the problem.
So, I did what I always do, and took a guess. I ordered some rubberized fabric from Player-Care.com along with the other supplies I’d need, and in correspondence with the owner (it seems like a one-person operation), confessed my confusion and got some advice, though it didn’t get me very far.
At their advice, I joined a Facebook forum and several subreddits about reed organs and asked if anyone had any information. I know there were people who’d posted to these forums that had organs like mine, reading through the postings. No one had anything useful to contribute, though, all the current readers being possessors (or fans) of parlor models that did not have to deal with the whole folding thing. The internal arrangement of them is quite different.
The SECOND task was to get all the remains of the old bellows cloth off the boards so that I could re-use them. The nice thing about using animal hide glue (in a long list of not-so-nice things about it) is that it releases with heat. It should have been fairly simple to heat up the fabric joined to the wood with an old iron and peel it off. THE PROBLEM was that whoever had “restored” this organ previously (there was ample evidence that it had had lots of work done) had used small upholstery tacks ALL AROUND THE COMPLETE PERIMETER of every bellows. I must have pulled a pound of metal out of this thing.
All those tacks (plus whatever damage existed before the last restoration) had really destroyed the surface of the wood that I was to glue to, so I had to make all new boards. On the one hand, this was not a huge amount of effort to give me a brand-spanking-new surface to glue to. On the other hand, it meant a lot of very painstaking measuring and marking to position all the bit correctly - a set of holes here, a bit of glued-on felt cushion there, a strap glued and screwed to one side…it was very fiddly, but worth the effort. I believe all my glue bonds are very good, but only time will tell.
Since I’d just guessed at the size of the reservoir, I found that when everything was glued up, the reservoir was about twice as big as it needed to be in order for the mechanism to work. I’m certainly glad it wasn’t too small - otherwise I’d be ordering more cloth (at $50/foot). A couple hours effort un-gluing and repositioning and my second guess was much more doable. There’s a bit of rubbing that I don’t like, but it’s seriously OK. I think that with a little sanding inside the case the rub will go away.
The nice thing about using animal hide glue (in a long list of not-so-nice things about it) is that it releases with heat, and with heat can be re-activated - so it was pretty easy (compared the rest of the build in general) to change the reservoir size. It does mean however that old furniture stored in attics and barns can fall apart. Not planning on that, though.
Anyway, so it works! There’s only one bank of reeds, so the action is pretty simple, and there’s only one control apart from the keys - a volume slider on the skirt board that would (in later models) be turned into a “knee swell,” which is a knee-operated lever that allows you to change the volume without taking your hands off the keyboard. My old Billhorn “Monitor” folding organ had both a knee swell and a Crescendo (which uses your other knee to open additional reeds). That was a really good organ, especially after I finished with rebuilding it. It was a roadable instrument (I beefed up the case) that was tuned to standard Concert pitch (A440), meaning you could play along with a band and be in tune. It's with that professional composer/musician now. The Estey has no knee controls and is tuned at below concert pitch - I’d guess A335, which was popular, but there was no standard yet in 1910 (they didn’t go standard until 1926). Maybe if I could find a wrecked 1926 model I could swap out the reeds!
Still, it’s fun, and “portable” (if you can call 60 lb. of instrument portable). At some point I’ll fix up the few dings and missing bits of the case - it could use a new set of hooks for keeping it closed in shipping, for example, and there are a few pieces of oak ¼-round trim missing from the base.
Perhaps I’ll part with it someday too (I can guarantee it, as it’s 114 years old and in better shape than I am), and look for another slightly newer model that’s tuned to concert pitch. I’m a sucker for a sweet voice.
* That said, if somebody knows an alternative picture hosting service that's free, please let me know.
(I'd show you pictures/video except Livejournal says I've reached my limit and after 22 years can piss off. Not bitter.)*
Ahem.
Reed organs were very popular in the 19th and early 20th century for home and public entertainment (especially before radio and recordings made music more widely available) and there were many manufacturers of them here and in Europe. They were also widely used in churches, being very much cheaper (and easier to maintain) than pipe organs, with some large models being nearly as dynamic, impressive and LOUD. A few manufacturers also made portable models designed to be used by traveling shows, church revival gatherings, etc.
I’ve had two portable or “folding” reed organs over the years now, and two parlor models (giant wooden confections of indoor furniture), and done extensive work on three of the four. My first one, a huge parlor model, was brought home to my second-floor apartment in many many pieces (I did not have a large vehicle), and so after repair and reassembly, it would BARELY fit down the stairs when it was time to move out. If I recall correctly the last five or six steps consisted of an uncontrolled tumble. It was pretty rough after that.
Actually it was pretty rough before that. AFTER that, it “worked,” and that was all you could say about it.
Anyway, with the departure of my last portable model to that composer in Brooklyn (who used it to great effect on a collaborative album) and the departure of my last parlor model (to an enthusiastic young fan of early twentieth-century music), I was fresh out of reed organs (as one can be) and so when I saw this one on Facebook Marketplace for what I considered a quite reasonable $75, I impulse-bought it.
Reed organs are just like giant accordions, but all the air goes one way through it (unlike the squeeze-and-pull of an accordion action). Pumping the two foot pedals works a pair of bellows that suck air (they’re “exhausters”) past a reed when you push a key. A common space connecting them is also fashioned as a bellow, but springs hold it open so the volume of air (vacuum, actually) in it absorbs the pulses made by your feet alternately operating the exhauster bellows so you can hold a note without it wavering.
ALL the bellows in the 1910 Estey were gone. Not just bad, but gone. The remains of the rubberized cloth that they were made of (conveniently swept into a box for me) looked like so much black cornflakes. No matter, I know how to replace the fabric using (the correct) animal hide glue.
The problem unique to this one (for me) is that I had nothing to make a pattern from, to know how wide the bellows should be when open. Not a huge problem in the exhauster bellows, which are normally held closed with a spring and whose travel is limited by the movement of the pedals, but the reservoir bellow, which COULD be almost any size and would work, but needs to be small enough to leave for the other parts to move properly, and for the organ to fold down into crate form for travel.
My first task was to figure out how the whole bellows mechanism was supposed to work, including accommodating the folding. The bellows is made of two boards each, connected along one side by a hinge made of cloth strapping and completely enclosed by rubberized fabric. The hinges were torn off, and the boards were loose in a box with the cornflakes of disintegrated material. Lining up the bits of hinge still glued to each board sorted that relationship out, and figuring out how much the pedals could reasonably move sorted out how big the exhauster bellows needed to be. It was the reservoir that was the problem.
So, I did what I always do, and took a guess. I ordered some rubberized fabric from Player-Care.com along with the other supplies I’d need, and in correspondence with the owner (it seems like a one-person operation), confessed my confusion and got some advice, though it didn’t get me very far.
At their advice, I joined a Facebook forum and several subreddits about reed organs and asked if anyone had any information. I know there were people who’d posted to these forums that had organs like mine, reading through the postings. No one had anything useful to contribute, though, all the current readers being possessors (or fans) of parlor models that did not have to deal with the whole folding thing. The internal arrangement of them is quite different.
The SECOND task was to get all the remains of the old bellows cloth off the boards so that I could re-use them. The nice thing about using animal hide glue (in a long list of not-so-nice things about it) is that it releases with heat. It should have been fairly simple to heat up the fabric joined to the wood with an old iron and peel it off. THE PROBLEM was that whoever had “restored” this organ previously (there was ample evidence that it had had lots of work done) had used small upholstery tacks ALL AROUND THE COMPLETE PERIMETER of every bellows. I must have pulled a pound of metal out of this thing.
All those tacks (plus whatever damage existed before the last restoration) had really destroyed the surface of the wood that I was to glue to, so I had to make all new boards. On the one hand, this was not a huge amount of effort to give me a brand-spanking-new surface to glue to. On the other hand, it meant a lot of very painstaking measuring and marking to position all the bit correctly - a set of holes here, a bit of glued-on felt cushion there, a strap glued and screwed to one side…it was very fiddly, but worth the effort. I believe all my glue bonds are very good, but only time will tell.
Since I’d just guessed at the size of the reservoir, I found that when everything was glued up, the reservoir was about twice as big as it needed to be in order for the mechanism to work. I’m certainly glad it wasn’t too small - otherwise I’d be ordering more cloth (at $50/foot). A couple hours effort un-gluing and repositioning and my second guess was much more doable. There’s a bit of rubbing that I don’t like, but it’s seriously OK. I think that with a little sanding inside the case the rub will go away.
The nice thing about using animal hide glue (in a long list of not-so-nice things about it) is that it releases with heat, and with heat can be re-activated - so it was pretty easy (compared the rest of the build in general) to change the reservoir size. It does mean however that old furniture stored in attics and barns can fall apart. Not planning on that, though.
Anyway, so it works! There’s only one bank of reeds, so the action is pretty simple, and there’s only one control apart from the keys - a volume slider on the skirt board that would (in later models) be turned into a “knee swell,” which is a knee-operated lever that allows you to change the volume without taking your hands off the keyboard. My old Billhorn “Monitor” folding organ had both a knee swell and a Crescendo (which uses your other knee to open additional reeds). That was a really good organ, especially after I finished with rebuilding it. It was a roadable instrument (I beefed up the case) that was tuned to standard Concert pitch (A440), meaning you could play along with a band and be in tune. It's with that professional composer/musician now. The Estey has no knee controls and is tuned at below concert pitch - I’d guess A335, which was popular, but there was no standard yet in 1910 (they didn’t go standard until 1926). Maybe if I could find a wrecked 1926 model I could swap out the reeds!
Still, it’s fun, and “portable” (if you can call 60 lb. of instrument portable). At some point I’ll fix up the few dings and missing bits of the case - it could use a new set of hooks for keeping it closed in shipping, for example, and there are a few pieces of oak ¼-round trim missing from the base.
Perhaps I’ll part with it someday too (I can guarantee it, as it’s 114 years old and in better shape than I am), and look for another slightly newer model that’s tuned to concert pitch. I’m a sucker for a sweet voice.
* That said, if somebody knows an alternative picture hosting service that's free, please let me know.