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Restoration Diaries

The 'New System' of direct downloads for PDFs is a bit complicated (for me) what with all those uploads, links, and deletions -  so please bear with me if it doesn't work.  Or bettter still, let me know, David on friends.sp@btinternet.com


Otherwise, here goes:

Contents:

1)  Anonymous 'SouthGerman' square piano;  report by Andrew Nolan


   (Click for PDF)

2)Longman, Lukey & Co, c. 1772/3 - see below

3)  An American Geib Nameboard, by Tom Strange and John Bartlett
     
 
(Click for PDF)

4)  Christopher Ganer  c.1795 by David Hackett (Part 1)
5)  Adam Beyer  c.1780 by Graham Walker


6)  J A Knam (Vienna) c.1815 by Andrew Nolan (Click for PDF)
7)  
Broadwood c. 1837, by Bernard Novell  (Click for PDF)
8)  Longman & Broderip (Geib) by Tom Strange (Click for PDF)
9)  Clementi c.1815 by David Hackett (Click for PDF)


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(2) An Early London Square Piano

 made for Longman, Lukey & Co. c. 1774

  This lovely little piano appeared at auction at Serrell's of Malvern, in November 2010.  It attracted considerable interest, and after some brisk bidding, it was happily sold to a Friend.  From my own point of view, I am delighted that the piano has been entrusted to my care for the time being, to do the necessary work to restore it to full playing condition.  Furthermore, the new owner has generously agreed for the progress to be recorded here on the Friends website.

 The firm who sold it had its origins as ‘J Longman & Co’ in 1767, and it became ‘Longman Lukey & Co’ in 1769 with the arrival of Charles Lukey.  In 1773, Francis Fane Broderip became a partner, and the name changed to Longman, Lukey & Broderip.  Upon the death of Lukey in 1776, the firm achieved its best-known identity of  Longman & Broderip.  So the probable date for this piano is 1769 - 73.  For its time, it is quite advanced, with a full five-octave compass including FF#.  The very early pianos had keyboards descending only to GG, or even AA for the very first Zumpe (1766).  Even as late as 1780 and beyond, many pianos did not have FF#.  So, for this reason, a date towards the end of the range seems most likely – let’s say ‘c. 1772/3’. 

But who made it?  The firm discussed above was always a music publisher and dealer in instruments, not an actual maker.  Later pianos labelled ‘Longman & Broderip’ have been definitely identified as the work of Christopher Ganer, John Geib, and Thomas Culliford.  However, we believe this one to be the work of Frederick Beck, based on various constructional details, but in particular the absence of dampers on the top few notes – they ascend only to c3.  We know of no other maker who followed this pattern.

  Nothing is known of the previous history of the piano, although it is believed that it had been in the ownership of one family for some considerable time, and has not been recorded by the ‘Piano Community’ before.  Only two other pianos by Longman, Lukey & Co are recorded in Clinkscale – the first dated 1770, and now in The Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, and an undated example at Finchcocks, Goudhurst.  The description of the later piano is similar to this one, but it was not in such good condition.  

  For its age, this piano is in a good state of preservation, and has mostly escaped the attention of ill-advised ‘restorers’.  Its biggest problems are structural, with evidence that the hitchrail came loose many years ago, and the wrestplank is now detached.  Apart from that, the casework is in very good condition, and most of the detail is intact.  As is normal, the strings are something of an assortment.

The first major job was the removal of the strings. This was more easily done by removing the damper-assembly first.  The dampers of these very early pianos are ‘fixed’ – a little later on, the bar carrying the dampers and springs was pivoted, so that the whole lot could be raised out of the way.  However, the earliest dampers were operated by little whalebone stickers, pinned into a tiny mortise in the damper-lever.  This arrangement makes it impossible to raise them clear of the strings, and makes string replacement rather difficult. 

As found, the strings were a somewhat motley assortment, and most (especially the iron strings) were clearly relatively modern replacements.  However, there was hope for some of the tenor and bass strings, so the available data were recorded as completely as possible.  In the picture above, the lowest string is clearly a replacement, but the three above are likely to be original. 

All of this type, and some of  brass strings above, have the same eye design:

 

- with a somewhat inelegant ‘reverse’ of the core back over the twisted portion.

The windings on the wrestpins are also somewhat unusual: the string is coiled upwards over the loose end, then brought diagonally downwards, with the last turn or so in the conventional downwards direction.  Details like these, when found on a number of strings, make it virtually certain that these strings were all put on at the same date.  Since these strings do form a sensible pattern, whereas the others are clearly of odd dates and ‘wrong’, we suggest that these strings are original.  It always remains a possibility, of course, that they are the remains of a very early ‘restring’.  We can only work on the balance of probability. An early restring would have to have had some purpose, and there is none apparent. 

 Our knowledge about the original strings for pianos of this age is sparse, and as with any kind of archaeology, we only have one chance to record the data ‘undisturbed’.  The full chart is recorded separately. 

  We noted at the beginning that the wrestplank was loose, and that the hitchrail had at some time moved towards the right.  This last problem had directly damaged the soundboard with a crush injury:

- and it was also clear that the belly-rail was loose.  A serious soundboard crack near the junction of the cheek and the belly-rail (badly glued up very many years ago) had also suffered further, partly as a result of this.

  Any one of these issues would have required removal of the soundboard, so it was clear that this was the next job!

  This job is never easy, particularly on pianos like this where the soundboard is continuous over the whole of the right-hand part, including the wrestplank.  We always assume and hope that the soundboard has been glued in with animal glue, which will yield to combinations of moisture and heat.  The very large glue joint to the wrestplank is a challenge, because there is no easy access – particularly to the undrilled part above the treble wrestpins.  However, in this particular case, we knew that the wrestplank itself was loose, and this offered the unusual possibility of removing the soundboard still attached to the wrestplank. 

  The job began, as usual, with the removal of the mahogany beading around the edges.  This was easily accomplished with careful use of water, some warmth, and old kitchen knives dipped in boiling water.  And a lot of patience – this is not a job to be rushed.  With the beading removed, we were surprised to see several screw-heads around the edges of the board.  It was evident from their shape that they were very old screws, almost certainly original.   

  We can see from the picture of the belly-rail, that the soundboard was already detached in that part, so the gradual business of prising it up started there.  As is usual in early pianos, the wrestplank does not go to the bottom of the case, so it was possible to devise a system of  wedges, with the elements inserted through the mousehole, and a final long wedge hit with a mallet to push the assembly up from underneath.l

The soundboard after removal

  The underside (with wrestplank attached) showing soot-stain and barring.  Unusually, two of the bars are mahogany (rather than the usual pine or spruce) as are the little blocks supporting the heads of the bridge-screws.  Despite the very best efforts of Friends of Square Pianos, the origin of the soot-stain remains a mystery. 

With  the soundboard removed, it became clear that the function of the screws was to secure the bars to the soundboard, not the soundboard to the liners.

With the soundboard and wrestplank out, the belly-rail (the piece with the mousehole) and the hitchpin-block easily came loose.  This was as far as the disassembly went.  

A good view of the basic structure.  Much of the strength comes from the two diagonal boards.  Fill-in supports the keyframes, but adds little strength.

From now on, it's all building up!

  
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(3)  Christopher Ganer, Square Piano c. 1795

by David Hackett

     Three years after I bought this piano, the restoration is now well under way  The job will take some time, so our reader is invited to follow as the work moves forward.
     This particular Ganer has probably never been reported before.  It came to light when the heirs of its former owner, an agricultural worker of Kingston Bagpuize in Oxfordshire, decided to sell it in March 2007.   This gentleman had bought it in 1940 from his next-door neighbour, who in his turn had owned the piano to the extent of memory before that.  The price paid in 1940 was ten shillings. 
     We can be fairly sure that this piano has escaped the attention of ‘restorers’ throughout the twentieth century, but what before then?  Sadly, the soundboard, strings, and wrestpins are not original, but their replacements show every sign of nineteenth century work – and probably from the first part of the century at that.  The replacement strings were iron (not steel) and brass – with no covered strings.  The wrestpins, although too heavy, are mostly undrilled.  Remarkably, a few of the notes were still capable of sounding when the piano was examined – the pitch was about a third flat.
     Christopher Ganer probably made several hundred pianos, of which the remarkable number of eighty or so are known to survive.  Of those survivors, this must be one of the last to be made; it is unusual in having a double action, one of only about three known.  There is no escapement, but there is an intermediate lever.  When the piano is restored, we will know how well this arrangement worked!

     This piano has the usual eighteenth century compass of five octaves.  There is evidence that it had no handstops, but four pedals.  As well as the expected damper lift and buff effects, there was a lid-swell, and another device that was probably a type of ‘una corda’.  This is believed to have operated by means of a comb arrangement (now missing) at the right-hand end of the keyboard, that rose beneath the string-band to damp one string of each pair.  This is not a common device, and I have never encountered one before.
in overall appearance, the piano is conventional, and at 5’ 3” long, of average size for its time. 
     It rests on a French stand, with leather castors.  There is an unpainted ‘dust cover’, and slight evidence of the usual ledge on the keyboard lid for resting music.  The ledge itself must have been lightly pinned, and missing for some time, as there is no colour-mark on the wood.  There is a folding internal music rest on the back if the nameboard, but it is not certain whether this is original.
     The piano is constructed basically from the usual solid mahogany, but the veneering scheme is remarkable, and woods so far identified (in addition to the usual ebony/box stringing) include tulipwood, satinwood, purpleheart, and partridgewood.

     The nameboard is veneered in satinwood, with a ‘ripple figure’, and edged with tulipwood cross-banding.  The maker’s name is carried on an enamel plaque, and there are surrounding ornaments of inlaid ribbons and sprays.  The main spray is in a green-dyed veneer, with incised and black-filled detail; the ribbon is in a light-coloured veneer with green detail.   

 

     The whole thing was very dirty as found, and the stand in particular is not in good condition.  The farm-cottage rats evidently used the legs to sharpen their teeth!  There is a great deal of work to do before this piano will be restored.  But when it is, the contrast between the vivid purpleheart and the golden satinwood will be eye-catching.  As considerable parts of the veneer on the stand will have to be new, the dilemma is whether artificially to fade the new bits, or to leave them as a reminder of just how brilliant the colours were originally .

----- Part 2 -----

May 2010

  Some time has now passed, and there has been some gentle progress.  The first job was to repair the stand, and to set the piano back on it.


    As can be seen from this picture, some fairly major surgery was required to repair the rat-damage.  The bottom 6" of this leg had been eaten completely, requiring a new piece to be grafted on.

  Here's another unrestored leg, and a repaired one.  As hinted earlier, I have decided (for now, anyway) to leave the purpleheart in its true colour.  After a time (less that 200 years) it matures to a chocolate-brown colour, but this is how it looked when new.  And after all, when we put new stones into a mediaeval cathedral, we don't make them dirty and distressed, do we?  My only problem is that I was unable to obtain satinwood with the glorious honey-colour and figure of the original.  This is real (East Indian) satinwood, but attempts to make it match have been only partly successful.

  The casters, with authentic leather wheels, have been supplied by Optimum Brasses.  The paterae for the corners are from the same firm, cast from originals, and this design has been seen on at least one other Ganer, as well as pianos by Rolfe and Clementi.

Here's the piano back on its stand:

Work has now commenced on the inside!

  We knew that the soundboard was not original, but it appeared that the replacement as found had been fitted in the early nineteenth century.  This conclusion was mainly reached from the fact that the tuning pins, although too thick to be original, were mostly 1820-style undrilled.  However, when the soundboard was removed, it appeared from the wrestplank that there had been another replacement before that, as there were two sets of plugged holes.  The barring structure of the soundboard was very curious (see below) and examination of the various recesses inside the piano gave no clear picture of what the original was.

 The design chosen for the new soundboard is the fairly common 'ladder' pattern of barring, as used around the 1790 - 1810 period for English pianos.  Note that the short ribs are relieved underneath the bridge; this is easiest to see in the one towards the top right of the picture.  This has been seen on at least one other Ganer piano.

There is some apparent colour difference between the boards, but they are all from the same log.  It's just that some have had more exposure to light than others during the 20 years or so that I have had them.  It's the top surface that's finished, though, and that will match (see below).

    The wrestplank has a new top piece, and the soundboard has been glued snugly back into place.

 A duplicate top piece for the wrestplank was made, marked out for the positions of the pins, and drilled on a drill-press.  This ensures that the holes are vertical, and makes a good guide for drilling the actual holes in the right place, accurately, and straight.  The soundboard has been finished with a shellac spirit varnish, which has darkened it to an agreeable honey-colour.  

  Work has now started on the action!

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