Karate Monkey
Well-Known Member
Hi, my name is [redacted]. I work on pianos, play the piano (and the organ too!), sing, work on bikes, and ride bikes...until I got hit by a car. I started riding about 8 years ago, in college, when I was an unhappy 225 pounds, and at high risk for diabetes (Grandma, mom and both her siblings, as well as my brother, all have it)...today, I'm a [relatively] svelte 170 pounds, with some work left to do. Until I'm actually able to ride again, and in an effort to not pic dump the DIY thread to death, I figured it was about time to start my own thread here.
Thanks to @fidodie , who is an enabler, I now have a second player piano (third in the house!), and less crap in the garage. Replacing 600-or-so pounds of weights is a Cable player piano from sometime between 1925-1930. Here are a couple of shots of the finish, before cleaning:
And after:
This is, unfortunately, indicative of the abuse that the piano was dealt--the lacquer coating was badly damaged from high humidity, wherever it was stored. It will definitely need to be refinished in the entirety, if only to fix the slip-shod job of the previous person who restored it, and got lacquer on parts that should never have had them. I'm going to generously(?) assume that whoever electrified the piano was responsible, and was proud enough to put their name on it, but not proud enough to make it look nice:
Only partially visible above, is the folded armature (above the pedals) that is attached to the vacuum bellows to either side, and the main reservoir, above, that supplies the manual (or should it be pedal?) vacuum pressure to run the player mechanism. If you knew what you were looking for, you could see where the rubber coating has flaked away from the reservoir, making the player inoperative.
The actual mechanism is run by a vacuum powered motor, but probably unlike anything you've ever seen;
Negative pressure enters from the right hand side, and collapses the bellows hidden behind, which, in turn, pull on the camshaft, visible above. As the sliding plates in front clear the hole, the pressure in the bellows returns positive, and it is reset, ready for the next cycle.
A view from the top of the mechanism:
The first order of business, other than cleaning the dust I could reach, was to remove the player mechanism, to access the piano's action. The first casualty-due-to-old-age was the hose that connected the vacuum reservoir to the motor, which split with no provocation:
Once disconnected, the player could be removed, in two sections, the motor and roll frame (background), and the actual player action, foreground:
You will see, that unlike the Milton, with its plethora of small diameter tubing/nightmare inducing disassembly process, there is a series of holes along the top of the player action (bottom most portion, in the picture), through which vacuum travels to the individual action bellows. It is really a magnificent feat of woodworking, when you think about it. More will definitely need to happen here, as I test the action itself for proper operation before reinstalling it.
With the player mechanism finally out of the way, the piano action could finally be accessed:
The news is...not good.
The wood is sound, all around, but almost all of the felt is either moth-bitten to the point of uselessness, or hard as a rock (and horribly compressed). The buckskin portions of the action are, likewise, pretty well shot. Many of the bridle straps are broken. The hammers are largely unsalvageable, and will need to be replaced (but in the meantime, will be filed/pressed to attempt to return some semblance of usability to the piano. At least the strings are in good shape (at least until I try to tune it!).
As a bonus for those who read all the way to the end, here's an action shot of the motor running off of a handheld vacuum (turn the volume off!):
Thanks to @fidodie , who is an enabler, I now have a second player piano (third in the house!), and less crap in the garage. Replacing 600-or-so pounds of weights is a Cable player piano from sometime between 1925-1930. Here are a couple of shots of the finish, before cleaning:
And after:
This is, unfortunately, indicative of the abuse that the piano was dealt--the lacquer coating was badly damaged from high humidity, wherever it was stored. It will definitely need to be refinished in the entirety, if only to fix the slip-shod job of the previous person who restored it, and got lacquer on parts that should never have had them. I'm going to generously(?) assume that whoever electrified the piano was responsible, and was proud enough to put their name on it, but not proud enough to make it look nice:
Only partially visible above, is the folded armature (above the pedals) that is attached to the vacuum bellows to either side, and the main reservoir, above, that supplies the manual (or should it be pedal?) vacuum pressure to run the player mechanism. If you knew what you were looking for, you could see where the rubber coating has flaked away from the reservoir, making the player inoperative.
The actual mechanism is run by a vacuum powered motor, but probably unlike anything you've ever seen;
Negative pressure enters from the right hand side, and collapses the bellows hidden behind, which, in turn, pull on the camshaft, visible above. As the sliding plates in front clear the hole, the pressure in the bellows returns positive, and it is reset, ready for the next cycle.
A view from the top of the mechanism:
The first order of business, other than cleaning the dust I could reach, was to remove the player mechanism, to access the piano's action. The first casualty-due-to-old-age was the hose that connected the vacuum reservoir to the motor, which split with no provocation:
Once disconnected, the player could be removed, in two sections, the motor and roll frame (background), and the actual player action, foreground:
(heart attack central)
You will see, that unlike the Milton, with its plethora of small diameter tubing/nightmare inducing disassembly process, there is a series of holes along the top of the player action (bottom most portion, in the picture), through which vacuum travels to the individual action bellows. It is really a magnificent feat of woodworking, when you think about it. More will definitely need to happen here, as I test the action itself for proper operation before reinstalling it.
With the player mechanism finally out of the way, the piano action could finally be accessed:
The news is...not good.
The wood is sound, all around, but almost all of the felt is either moth-bitten to the point of uselessness, or hard as a rock (and horribly compressed). The buckskin portions of the action are, likewise, pretty well shot. Many of the bridle straps are broken. The hammers are largely unsalvageable, and will need to be replaced (but in the meantime, will be filed/pressed to attempt to return some semblance of usability to the piano. At least the strings are in good shape (at least until I try to tune it!).
As a bonus for those who read all the way to the end, here's an action shot of the motor running off of a handheld vacuum (turn the volume off!):