Rönnberg continued

 As I referenced in the last post, William Rönnberg is a very well documented maker largely due to an interview which he gave to Baldwin's Musical Review in 1879. I don't believe any other maker has spoken in such detail about their work, and from as many different aspects.

In looking around at what Rönnberg flutes were in collections, it became clear that not only did he make a wide variety of woodwinds, but certainly in the case of his flutes, and particularly before he began to concentrate on Böhm flutes, no two of his flutes appear to be similar. 

Here's a list of links to what appears to be in public collections, and also a couple that were, or are, for sale.

1/ What appears to be a rather fancy flute with a B foot. They claim that it's "clad in tortoiseshell", but I wonder is it just stained to resemble tortoiseshell. He was known to stain box wood, to make it resemble other timbers. Have a look here

2/ This one, about as different as you can get from the first, sold recently on eBay. Have a look quickly as these listings don't remain available as long as they used to...See it here

3/ Expand the photo on this one, and it actually looks a bit like tortoiseshell too. I think in this case, that this flute is made from Platymiscium, which can at times have that sort of pattern. Again, distinctly different. Look here

4/ Don't pay too much attention to the blurb with this sale...

5/ 6/ 7/

Finally three from the DCM in Washington DC. The first, DCM 0490 resembles to a large degree 1/ down to the unusual triple trill key.  The final two DCM 0837, and DCM 0051 are examples of his Böhm flutes. He is generally considered more of a maker of Böhm flutes than simple system.

The flute that I wrote about in the last post is in fact the only "standard" 8 key flute by Rönnberg to which I can find any reference.

Following is the full text of the Baldwin's Musical Review article. I apologise for the mixed up line spacing etc. This is due to the fact that you can't export dictated text from Word except as an image. Weird huh?

Rönnberg

 This has to be one of the more interesting flutes I've restored, both in its own essence and structure, and how it came to me.

Firstly, though, let's look at what we know about the maker, William Rönnberg.

The NLI gives the usual basic information. Here's a screenshot, a bit bendy, but faster than copying it all out:-

In fact Rönnberg was one of the best documented of makers, and that through his own words. More of that later, but for the moment onto the flute.

A few years ago, I was given the task of clearing out the workshop of a long retired woodwind maker, and selling what was saleable.  Among the 'debris' was a bag of old pieces of flutes, which on first glance appeared to be the sort of thing that all makers have - pieces which are kept in the hopes that they'll be useful someday. They rarely if ever are.

This bag, as is the fate of most such things, ended up in a box, under a bench in my workshop, where it kept company with several other similar bags, and probably a dozen one keyed Bb band flutes, in similar states of disrepair, and which were not even accorded the dignity of being in a bag.

Sometime later...at least a couple of years, if memory serves ( and to be honest, it often doesn't), I had occasion to root in this cornucopia, and again opened the bag, and glanced in. What caught my eye initially was a fully keyed foot. Despite being incredibly dirty, there was something about it that spoke to me, something unusual in the proportions of the keys and blocks.

So on this occasion, I looked at it a bit more closely, which confirmed that it really was quite unlike the English and continental simple system flutes with which I was familiar. I began to look a bit more closely into the bag, and eventually found what could potentially be the other two joints of the body. After consideration though, I decided that the lower middle was from a different flute, but had probably been pressed into use at some point to try and make a playable flute. That joint was a complete wreck, cracked through from end to end, keys missing.

For a day or two, I thought no more about it, but then I began to think that someone had really wanted to keep this flute playing, and maybe there was more of it in the bag. Searching again produced what now appeared to be the correct lower middle, based largely on the style of the keys.( and the style of the dirt! ) Now I had a fairly complete flute, in reasonable condition, importantly with all the keys present. Most importantly, a little cleaning showed that the three joints I now had were stamped RÖNNBERG NEW YORK.

There's a story told about a father who had an extremely optimistic son who wanted a pony for Xmas. The father decided to test his optimism and bought him a big pile of manure which he put under the Xmas tree ( It's a story ). Father comes down on Xmas morning to find the son digging in the manure. Son turns to father and says "There's gotta be a pony here somewhere!"

So when I realised I had all of the flute body, I, too, went digging and came up with a head and barrel which had potential, but which looked wrong  in certain aspects. One thing, though, finally convinced me that the head was right, and that was the type of wood. 

I've spoken in some of my other posts about a type of wood that has been used for flute making a lot more extensively than is generally realised. This wood is from the Platymiscium genus of trees, and I believe it may be the original meaning of grenadilla, before that term came to be used to mean African blackwood. Rönnberg himself had something to say on this matter, which we'll look at later, but for the moment I was happy now to confirm that I now had all five pieces of the original flute.

Here's what it looked like.

One of the things that initially fooled me about the head, was that the original rings had been replaced. I also eventually came to realise that the barrel, although apparently from the same wood was not the original.

Stripping the flute down showed some interesting features. The head was cracked and required the removal of the liner in the course of the repair. This revealed a beautifully even oval in the liner, the result of a very even undercut to the embouchure.

Stripping the dirt and finish from the wood, also confirmed that it was Platymiscium, as it revealed the "chatoyance" ( cat's eye) effect in the grain which is so typical of this wood.

It also revealed the care that Rönnberg took in concealing some small defects in the wood. 

Here he inset a plug to replace a knot

or small grain defect, rather than simpler fill it with shellac as was the common solution.

In close up....

And here a small chip on the shoulder also has a carefully inset piece to build it up.

Interestingly, although this little insert has the grain in the correct orientation, the plug shown above is end grain instead of the more disguiseable side grain. The flute had a heavy shellac finish which effectively made these little repairs invisible. 

Bad and all as the condition of the flute was it was certainly very restorable. The head was the really the main area of concern. Pulling the liner to fix the crack is a standard procedure, and studying and measuring the embouchure, I decided that it had probably been slightly enlarged, albeit neatly enough. I bushed it with horn.

The barrel, although not the original one - as indicated by the fact that the tenon was too short for the barrel socket - I'm inclined to think was a barrel from another Rönnberg flute. The wood was the same, and perhaps what clinched it is that the the fit between the head and barrel liners was precise. Using that tube, I made another barrel from Platymiscium. The rings on head and barrel had to be made anew, matching the existing ones on the lower middle and foot. 

Finally, the whole thing was refinished to match as closely as possible what little of the original finish remained.

Result?

I think it turned out well.

The neatness and attention to detail which I had first noticed on the foot further revealed itself when the flutes was restored. This picture of the foot with keys removed makes it easier to see them.

Note the acutely angled volcano type seatings, which are so smoothly finished. Also, most unusually, the sides of the C# and C cup blocks, are curved, a feature which I had incorporated latterly on my own keyed foot joints, but had never seen on an old flute. Ecclesiastes said it...there is nothing new under the sun. These curved block sides in unusual places are also present on the short F block, again something that I did myself. Maybe I was channeling old William Rönnberg!

Other nice details, include the way in which the springs hug the profile of the underside of the key.

Here on the long F

and on the low C#

Finally, two other innovative and rather neat design features, both also on the foot.

Normally, the linkage between the low  C and C# keys relies on the C touch overlapping the C#, so that when the C is pressed, the C # also closes. But on this flute, looking from above the two touches appear to be separate.

Take the keys off and turn them over, and you see what Rönnberg's solution to this was.

He simply extended the spring on the C# under the C touch ensuring that depressing the C closes both keys.

Since the keys are padded, any adjustment need to ensure they close simultaneously is achieved when burning in the pads.

Finally, something which I've never seen on any other flute.

Hard enough to see from the photo, the slots for the C# and C touches, don't run all the way through, but rather curve up to meet to shoulder, meaning that the floor of the slot curves up from the body of the flute to the top of the block.

Of course, a flute is more than an assembly of pieces of wood and silver. What does it sound like? How does it play?

Answer:- 

As you might expect from a flute which was obviously made with such care, it plays very well.

Remember that although dating from at the earliest 1834 (the first date he's listed as being in New York, and the flute bears a New York stamp) the flute has very small holes for the period...at least from an English point of view. From the top down they measure... 7.1, 7.1, 6.5, 7.2, 7.4, 5.5mm

Unusually for a flute with small easily covered holes, the E hole is angled downwards, decreasing the distance between it and the F#.

The sounding length is 591mm again rather long, I would have thought for, such a flute. I will readily admit that my limited knowledge of American flutes doesn't allow me to make a proper comparison. 

Suffice it to say to my admittedly sharp blow, it plays easily at 440 with a very small slide extension.

The internal tuning is also rather good. Here's a read out from the RTTA tuning app which shows that apart from the flat F# ( here played as 1234, and not in the vented fingering 1234 with either F key open which would bring it into pitch) and a slightly flat D, also standard, the tuning is excellent. In fact I've rarely seen one as good.

All in all a very interesting and unusual flute.

I referred above to the fact that Rönnberg was well documented as a maker, and this is due to an article which was published in "Baldwin's Musical Review" in 1879. (Vol 14, no 3, pp6, 7Sept. 1879)

This is a detailed interview in which Rönnberg talks about his life and work in considerable detail, and rather than quote from it to illustrate some of the points in this post, I've decided to give it in full in the next blog, along with a discussion of the various other flutes that are known from this maker.

Henry Wylde #508

 Wylde is one of those names that constantly appears in any discussion of the English simple system flute in the 19th century. 

I think it's important to realise that many of the great "flute makers" of the period never in fact made flutes.  The common pattern was for a professional flautist who was engaged in teaching - most of them were - to team up with a flute maker, to provide flutes initially to their pupils, and to the general public. 

Rudall & Rose are probably the best known example of this.  As detailed in a previous blog, George Rudall initially worked with John Willis, and those instruments, made just either side of 1820, were stamped G. Rudall, and the only acknowledgement of the actual maker was a small WILLIS FECIT (latin for Willis made it) on the foot.  Although Rose, after he went into partnership with Rudall in 1821 in all probability made some of the earlier instruments, I suspect it's more likely that his role was increasingly as a workshop supervisor, managing the production of flutes by a group of workers at different skill levels. 

We see a very similar pattern with names such as Sicama, Pratten and Nicholson in England, and Tulou in continental Europe, where these performers either had flutes made to take advantage of their popularity, or were approached by established makers who wanted to associate their wares with those of famous performers.

Wylde belongs to one of a group of makers who although they did trade under their own names, produced many more flutes for others than under their own marque.

 The flute I'm showcasing here is one of  Wylde's so let's look at it in detail.

Ostensibly a standard enough cocus and silver 8 keyed flute, a closer examination shows some details that indicate that it's a cut above the standard.  The address, 15 Newington Causeway indicates a date of 1835-36, or possibly 1832-38, but certainly the 1830s.

Firstly the wood, cocus, is a suberb example of the best quality timber, with straight even grain, and a wonderful richness and depth of colour - although this last is partly due to the finish.

All three tenons are supported at the tip and base by silver rings.

The design and working of the key slots and seatings, again shows great attention to detail.  The key slots are lined, and the double spring (of blued steel) is neatly incorporated by riveting on to an extension of the liner.

The pad seatings are beautifully executed in doughnut form, which as you can see in the image above, makes an efficient impression on the pad.  Note also the neatness of the spring rivet, and the profiling of the spring itself.

The screw mechanism has an ivory screw through a silver sheathed crown.

Ivory screws are commonly found on good quality flutes, even where ivory is not otherwise used.  I've come to the conclusion that the reason behind this is that forming threads both external and internal, with the types of woods used in flute making is not an easy task, as the fine points of the thread tend to shear off, resulting in a "blunt" thread, which is not very functional for fine adjustments. Using ivory, on the other hand, results in a strong well formed thread which is very durable.

An unusual feature is the number stamp, which only appears on the foot, and which I read as 508.

The flute came to me in fairly good condition.  There was the almost standard crack in the head, conveniently in this case, not through the embouchure.

The main problem was the severely damaged block on the foot, holding the Eb key, and the C and C# touches.

Looking from below, it doesn't look too bad...

                           

But from this angle, you can see that the block has been replaced...and badly!

So badly in fact, that there has been no attempt to provide a side to the Eb slot. Look at the angle above, where you can see that the flat bottom of the block replacement simply sticks out as far as the original edge of the slot.

This didn't become obvious until the Eb key was removed.

So the block had to be replaced, and in doing this it became obvious why the replacement block didn't have a proper side to it.  As you can see in the pic below, milling out enough material to allow a block replacement going across far enough to make a proper Eb slot means the base of the slot going through the bore of the socket.

This makes the job a little more complicated, as profiling the block to fit the socket bore couldn't be done until the block was glued in place. 

The other issue with this replacement block was that of course the slots were unlined, which they were on all the other blocks, and certainly were on the original. So this meant making new liners, milling the slots wide enough to take them, and gluing them in place.

Just a note here about the whole concept of lined blocks.  They become reasonably common in the late 18th century, contemporaneous with the appearance of multi keyed flutes.  I can't think that I've ever seen it on a one keyed flute, but not saying that it doesn't exist.  Many think that the purpose of the lining was simply to make the action of the key smoother by operating between metal as opposed to wooden sides in the slot.  I don't believe that this is the case.  My idea is that the real purpose was to prevent the block splitting at the level of the axle/pin hole, as the block liner would take all the pressure, as opposed to the wood.  Evidence is that you never see a lined block that is split at that level.

Here's the new block replacement....

...and a view showing the block liners.

One other small detail of this flute I thought unusual. The number 210 is scratched on the head and the crown, but nowhere else on the flute.

All in all, a very nice flute.

The sounding length, at 596mm is on the long side for a flute of this period. Compare 586.5 for Prowse Nicholson Improved #3929 from approximately the same date, and much later Rudall Carte & Co. 7183 at 566mm.  The embouchure measures 12.14 x 11.00, and head diameter  at the embouchure is 27.5mm.

Special thanks to Simon Waters for information on the date of this flute.

 

 

 

 

Jordon Wainright...A Very Special Flute.

 As a flute player, maker and collector for some 48 years at this stage, it's sometimes remarkable how flutes come into your life, disappear from it, and very occasionally come back into it.

A bit of my personal flute history is appropriate here.

I began to take an interest in the flute in the early 70s, but that interest was stymied by a lack of flutes. I've written before about the difficulty of getting hold of any sort of a flute in Ireland in the 1970s. There were no "official" sources.            If you were lucky enough, you knew a flute player who would sell you something, and of course, at that time not only was there no internet, there was almost no way for young (or old) players to acquire any knowledge about flutes. It was basically a suck it and see situation (OK, maybe blow it and see would be a better idiom)

 Sometime in 1975 word reached Belfast that CCÉ headquarters in Dublin were selling flutes. Myself and Desi Wilkinson decided that we'd head to Dublin, and catch the ball on the hop as it were. I remember we asked Leslie Bingham his advice, as one of the only older flute players we knew. All I can remember at this remove is that Rudall & Rose was mentioned.

At the time, Comhaltas headquarters was in Harcourt St. in central Dublin, just to the south of St. Stephen's Green. Desi and myself got there to discover that there were about 6 or 8 flutes available.                                                                          None of them were by Rudall & Rose.                                                                      In retrospect, they were all German flutes, German in the Irish sense that is, what are now commonly called "nach Meyer" instruments.

Knowing nothing, or next to it, about flutes at the time, I used whatever measure of common sense I had, and picked out the flute which appeared to me to be in the best condition. It was a very standard unstamped blackwood 8 keyed (nickel silver) flute, in very playable condition.

I gave them £40 for it...and in fact all the flutes were £40, which if you think about it was a considerable amount of money at the time. I had worked on archeological digs as a summer job at the time, and our wages were £40 a week, which because it was a Dept. of the Environment job, was considered a very good weekly wage, probably the equivalent of around €800 today. Interesting that a similar flute would probably cost around half of that today.

So this was the flute that I learned to play on...and also was my introduction to flute repair and maintenance. At the time though, all I wanted was a flute that worked well enough for me to learn to play.  And it did work well enough. 

Untill...

About 6 months later, I moved to Cork, where there was a very vibrant traditional music scene, in which I soon became deeply involved, and it was around this time that I began to feel that I was not making as much progress as I hoped, and I also, despite the phrase - " a bad workman blames his tools" being in the back of my mind - began to think that it was the flute that was holding me back. But as explained above there were no more flutes in Cork than there were in Belfast, in fact probably less.

One of the first people I met when I came to Cork was another aspiring flute player by the name of Rob Murphy. In fact the very first night I passed in Cork city was in Rob's house, or rather his parent's house.                                                            Cork people are nothing if not hospitable.                                                                It turned out that Rob had a very nice old English 8 keyed flute that he wasn't using, and offered me a long term loan of it. 

As soon as I picked it up and blew into it, I knew I had moved onto a different level. The response was so immediate, so different from the old flute. Everything seemed to fall so easily under my fingers, and it reacted so easily to changes in embouchure.

A new world.

Probably less than a year later, knowing that the flute was a loan, I had the opportunity to buy Rudall & Rose, #6315, which became my main instrument for many years, and in fact which I still have, play almost every day, and which was the pattern for my early flutes.

Rob Murphy's flute, which was an instrument by Jordan Wainwright,  was returned to him, and disappeared from my life...forever... as I thought.

In 1979 I set up my workshop, and a good few years later, I came across another Jordan Wainwright, which was left in for repair. This was a very different flute, evidently much earlier, in boxwood with brass "flap" keys. The earliest date given for Wainwright is 1822, but the style of this flute was much more akin to what would be expected from the first decade of the 19th c. or even the last decade of the 18th.

So here's the flute, ( Rob's flute) a fairly standard mid to early 19th century 8 keyed English flute., stamped Wainwright London

This is not a maker you'd come across often. Here's the NLI entry, which interestingly notes only one example of a flute by him in a private collection in England.

The date of 1853 is significant here, as it is the last year that he was operating in London and in fact  Jordan Wainright is probably best known for emigrating to Australia, and setting up as a flute maker there, which he did in 1853, which explains that date as the cessation of his London work. 

The stamp on this flute is very faint...possibly as a result of refinishing, but against that is the fact that there appear to be no repairs, that would require that level of work. Here's the stamp on the lower middle joint.

There's no address on this stamp to aid in dating the flute

Let's have a look at the flute in more detail. Although I said it was a fairly standard 19th c. English 8 key, it was also a superior instrument with some very nice features. Cocus wood and silver, it has machine engraving on the broad rings, and a very fancy finial to the screw cork mechanism.

Unusually only some of the key slots are lined. All the slots on the foot are are lined, but on the body, only that of the short F, a combination that I've never seen before. I think the key work does display a certain degree of elegance though.

Note the way the touch declines towards the E hole, allowing the finger to side down to play the D. Movement in the other direction would involve the Long F.

In a feature that we see in some other flutes from the period, there is an ivory "liner" between the wood of the socket and the broad silver ring. The function of this is unknown, and certainly as a flute maker, I can see no particular advantage to it.

The keys are hallmarked, a feature which is much less common than imagined on English flutes.  Hall marks indicate who made the item, where it was made, when it was made, the purity of the silver, and the date. Let's look at the maker's mark first...

...this is the top mark here and clearly says WT/RA

It took me a while to find this maker's mark, but here it is...

...and surprisingly, it's not the mark of a flute maker but rather that of a "flatware" maker.  (scroll across) I had of course presumed that the W stood for Wainwright, but this was obviously wrong. Flatware essentially indicates a cutlery maker, but also could indicate a maker of plates etc. 

The dates that the maker is registered also usefully gives us an approximate date for the flute and in fact the date mark ( third from the top )confirms this being the date letter for 1840.  The marks on this flute are quite worn and hard enough to read, but I see the date letter as the gothic script E as illustrated here...

Here's another view of the hallmark

I believe that the wear that you often see on the hall marks on flute keys, is not simply a matter of over enthusiastic cleaning and polishing. Because stamping a hall mark on a narrow piece of silver like the shaft of a flute key will make it spread out, it seems obvious to me that the keys were hallmarked before the final finishing and fitting of the keys to the slots was completed, and that this, more than anything accounts for the often worn look. In order to make the expanded key fit the slot, it seems logical that often some aspects of the hallmark stamps would have to be filed away.  The maker's mark on the upper key in the photo above is a good example.

This is such a different flute from the other Wainwright that I restored, that it's difficult to believe they're by the same maker, and as we'll see later it almost seems that he was consistent in his inconsistency. Regarding this flute, if there was no maker's stamp on it, I'd be very inclined to say it was by the younger Prowse.

Research showed that quite a lot is known of Wainwright in Australia. The Powerhouse Museum in Castle Hill, NSW has one of his flutes, and their site holds quite a lot of information about him. See here

This flute is a very standard 4 keyed flute of the type that is in many ways anachronistic in the period it was made, being more typical of a flute from the late 18th century. What is potentially interesting about it is the surmise that it is potentially made from an Australian hardwood instead of cocus.

The following is from their site.

"He is known to have travelled to Sydney with his wife in 1853 and by 1857 had established himself in George Street, Sydney where he worked in several premises until 1883. He died in Newtown in 1884 at the age of 86. Apart from being recorded as a musical instrument maker at various times he is also recorded in Sydney trade directories as a wood turner, suggesting he certainly had the skills to produce quality work rather than merely importing instruments and stamping them with his mark......

.......The reasons surrounding Wainwright's decision to leave London are also unclear. Whether it was the pull of a new land with new resources and the prospect of prosperity from the gold discoveries or the push of an increasingly competitive market in London is uncertain. Clearly when in London Wainwright would have seen several new developments in flute design and equally would have missed seeing many others after he left. This possibly explains why he went to Australia but continued manufacturing flutes in an older style, still using a simple fingering system. This dislocation from the English musical instrument making scene possibly suggests that Wainwright could not compete with other makers and the amount of innovation occurring in London. However, although Wainwright adhered to this older style of general design he adopted the use of new materials in Australia. This included the use of a native timber, Myall (Acacia pendula) and silver from Moruya on the New South Wales south coast. It is unclear at this stage how many of his Australian flutes were made using Australian materials but an instrument comprising them was used as his showpiece instrument for the exhibitions mentioned above."

 For me, the above reveals some interesting conundrums. 

The NLI, even the most recent edition (1993) indicates that only one flute by Wainwright is known, but the Australian site seem to indicate that many more are extant.

"Wainwright exhibited in several colonial and international exhibitions such as the 1866 Intercolonial Exhibition of Australasia in Melbourne, a preliminary Sydney exhibition to the London International exhibition held in 1861, the London International Exhibition in 1862 itself and the Paris International Exhibition in 1867. Several of his instruments both during his London period and in Australia are stamped "Patent" however, there appears to be no record of such a patent existing in either English or Australian records."

and also...

"The quantity of flutes by Wainwright in Australia is unknown. However, four instruments have been sighted with his Sydney mark although it is assumed more examples exist seeing he is listed as an instrument maker in Sydney for almost thirty years. Each of these existing instruments are different in type from the others and apart from this four key instrument in F include an eight key, a single key in B flat and a single key in F. There is also a reference to a sighting of a clarinet with Wainwright's Sydney mark. This variety of flutes is consistent with surviving examples of his London work although materials differ. These include an eight key boxwood flute, an eight key cocus flute, an eight key ivory flute, a six key boxwood flute, a single key boxwood flute in A and a piccolo."

I hope I'm reading the text above correctly in that the last flutes are from his London output? I'm in contact with the Powerhouse Collection, and I'm hoping to hear from them about the sources for their research.

So, to finish...

How did the flute, that I gave back to Rob Murphy in 1978(ish) end up back in my hands.....

Rob Murphy who was a medical student when I first met him, qualified as a doctor, and in time went to work in Newfoundland.

He was playing the flute a lot at that stage, and fell in with the vibrant trad scene in St. John's, where he met a young flute player called Michelle Brophy. Michelle Brophy bought a flute from me in 1996, and by a series of coincidences I came to know her and her husband, piper Rob Brown very well and ended up teaching Michelle flute making over a period of years. (I'm happy to report that she's now making excellent flutes)

Rob Murphy eventually came back to Ireland, where he worked as a GP in Cavan, and despite meeting him once a good few years ago, we lost touch. On the occasion that we met...it was at some musical event in Dublin... the Wainwright did come up in conversation. He said it had been sadly neglected, I offered to do it up in return for the original loan, but nothing ever came of it.

Michelle didn't loose contact though. She credited him with her development as a flute player and kept in contact over the years.

Earlier this year, knowing that Michelle was making a visit to Ireland I was able to make contact with Rob again, and for the second time he was extremely generous, giving me the flute again...for good this time.

And so after Michelle first visited Rob in Cavan, the circle was complete, and Michelle delivered the flute to me...

...and it's just as good as I remembered.

Very special thanks to the Powerhouse Collection for permission to quote their research, especially to Dr. Michael Lea for his extensive research on Wainwright and to Kathy Hackett for her help in preparing this post.

Dollard, Ward, and Drouet

 Always on the lookout for flutes by Irish makers, or ostensibly so, I was delighted to come across a flute by Dollard, a family of makers listed as follows in the NLI

That great source of information on Irish musical instruments "The Dublin Music Trade" quotes Rose ( no relation to John Mitchell ) in relation to Isaac Dollard, and places him in the succession between McNeil and Butler

"Algernon Rose (Talks with Bandsmen, London 1894, cited in Waterhouse) states that Isaac Dollard was possibly the 'Mr Dollard, maker of flute, Kent-bugle, serpent and bass-horn', who apprenticed under John McNeil (ii) and was succeeded by George Butler in 1826."

The DMT site also reveals that according to Henley,* apparently their instruments, particularly the strings, were not well thought of:-

Writing about 'Dollard' of Dublin (no first name), Henley comments: 

"...worked in Dublin, 1800, workmanship very rough and utterly puerile. Varnish dull and blotchy. Outline and arching perfectly exemplify incompetency of designer. Wretchedly poor and weak tone. 'Cellos belong to same order. Some instruments known of better modelling and workmanship, but generally assumed to have been made, or at least finished by M'Neill'."

Ouch!

Finally the DMT site comments:-

"References to, and instruments made or sold by members of the Dollard family often not distinguished by name. Mark: Dollard / Dublin (Waterhouse)"

Lets look at the physical flute., this was how it appeared on eBay..

At a cursory glance it might appear like a fairly standard 8 keyed flute, but a closer examination, shows some interesting differences.

Firstly, the foot.

Two things are immediately different from the normal 8 keyed foot, although the principal of two touches operating two open standing keys is maintained. Firstly the two open standing keys operate at right angles to the normal system where they run along the flute. Secondly, the two touches are stacked above each other as opposed to the normal side by side. Let's just remind ourselves of the normal setup.

This the foot of Rudall & Rose #1376

A third thing which is probably the most remarkable about the foot, is the location of the Eb key, which is to the left of the C and C# touches, looking from the head, i.e. in exactly the opposite position to normal.

Some other small aspects of the flute are worth mention. 

Apart from the foot, the key set up is what one might call typically French...the G# being a cross key, which runs under the long C which is arched to allow this. In this case, another notable feature is the fact that the Bb block is separate from the long C support, the usual way of doing things.

N.B. the very long tenon

Also note the rather unusual "doughnut" seatings.

With regard to the keys, it's only when the pads are removed that another unusual feature is revealed. Each key has a little spike, which appears to be threaded, descending internally from the apex of the cup. Their function is unknown.

Here's an image of one of the pads, showing the little hole in the shellac backing up the purse pad. Again it's hard to see what this achieves.

In the case of this particular flute, it appears that the foot joint keys have had the spike removed, but it's still possible to see its base. N.B. also the little flat just where the shaft comes in. This indicates to me that someone as tried to readjust the angle of the cup by bending the shaft towards the cup. 

Finally, in this catalogue of divergence, the barrel joint is unique.

In all the Dollard flutes that I've seen or heard of, the construction of the tuning slide - and I don't think this is an exaggeration,- is the most unusual of any maker.

Essentially the construction of the head is quite normal, given that Dollard seems to have favoured the half lined head. In this case the head liner is silver. The barrel though is quite different. There is no liner tube in the barrel. Instead, the barrel is lined with cork, so that the slide is formed by the head tube sliding within this cork cylinder, a system which works surprisingly well.

Here it is as it came to me

and with the slide mount and old cork removed

( the mount was held in place with three little silver pins which had torn out when the mount was removed.)

And here it is with the cork replaced

The flute was in really very good overall condition, there were no cracks in either head or barrel ( a consequence of the half lined head and cork lined barrel?) which are almost standard in a flute of this age. Otherwise two blocks were damaged and had to be replaced, and the long F key was missing, as was the ornate ring at the top of the head.

The missing ring was the most challenging thing. Normally with flat or half round or even profiled rings, it's simply a matter of finding or drawing a suitable wire and if necessary turning a profile on it.

In this case the broad decorated ring can't be reproduced in this way. Many 19th century makers, particularly in the first half of the century used this type of mount, which were bought in from outside suppliers. They would have been supplied as a long strip which was then soldered to form rings of various sizes.

I got around this problem by having a casting made of the ring which was closest in size to the one I wanted to replace. It was slightly too small but was easily expanded on a ring expander, castings being soft.

The block replacements, using old cocus, worked out well...

And the replacement long F turned out well too, thanks to images shared by Paul Bell, who has exactly the same flute as this one...but in ivory.

Researching this flute, it soon became obvious that this strange key system identified this as a flute inspired by the French player and teacher Louis Drouet.

It's perhaps worth quoting the NLI entry for Drouet.

" International virtuoso player, teacher, composer for the flute; 1817 left Paris to settle in London; 1818 established flute manufactory, employing Cornelius Ward; 1819 the business failed and, leaving Ward to supply his flutes, returned to resume his career abroad. Lindsay, warning in 1828 of the counterfeiting of flutes then prevalent in London, wrote; 'the same system has been followed in regard to Mr. Drouet's manufacture, & the comparatively inconsiderable number of flutes which his short sojourn in this country enabled him to finish, has, even on a modest computation, been thus surreptitiously increased five-fold, for notwithstanding all the 'fine toned Flutes by Drouet', which are ticketed up on every street, scarcely a genuine Drouet is to be met with."

Researching Drouet, and in particular the system of foot joint keys that he favoured, opened a rather large can of worms.

First it's perhaps necessary to understand the position that Drouet held in the musical world of the time.

Rockstro, on his own account says:

"Opinions might have been expected to vary as to the merits of an artist of such peculiar qualifications as those of Drouet, and, as a matter of fact, he was extravagantly praised by some critics, and unjustly assailed by others, but there can be no doubt that although he possessed neither the elegant style of Tulou nor the commanding tone of Nicholson, he was one of the most remarkable flute-players that ever lived. "

and in terms of his exciting the opposites of praise and  opprobrium Rockstro quoting Fétis:

"He excelled in difficult and rapid passages; his double-tougueing was marvellously voluble, but his intonation was false, and his style was destitute of expression and majesty"

and on the other hand, quoting W. N. James:

"He is intrinsically and superlatively the best player on the instrument in the world

...he soars above the rest, like an eagle above the hawk, and no one seems to question his superiority

....It is impossible to imagine anything so positively beautiful as the tone of M. Drouet" 

One thing that the critics seem to agree on was his ability in the areas of articulation and execution, and if it's safe to assume that Drouet was playing one of his own flutes, one has to wonder how much of that articulation and execution used the foot joint keys.

In 1828 Drouet published his Flute Method, initially in French, but with German text alongside in the 1829 edition. An English version was produced in 1830.

From my point of view, what I found interesting is the reproduction of the key work in this publication, which certainly seems to indicate that he not only played on, but recommended his odd system of foot keys.

As you can see the rather crude illustration shows a foot joint set up as in the Dollard flute, here in close up...

with the Eb key on the far side of the C and C# touches. The apparent extreme awkwardness of this set up led me to seek out other images of Drouet flutes, and this is where the worms really started to escape!

It seems that there are many variations on the basic "stacked" C/C# touches approach. One of the first things I noticed was that the Eb key is not always on the "wrong side" as it were. Initially I thought that I was looking at a left handed version of the key work, but the Eb is the only key that is changed. Here's an example from the Dayton C. Miller collection in the Library of Congress (DCM 0347), this flute stamped Drouet.

The other great source of variation is in how the C/C# touches interact with each other.

Here's a couple of Drouet feet illustrating this.

This one is by Holtzapffel (Jean Daniel, brother of the author of " Wood Turning and Mechanical Manipulation ) and you can clearly see that there is some sort of device which appears to help the C#/C touches act together. 

and in close up

Again here's another example, this time from

 Charles Sax.

and again in close up.

It's really no surprise that other makers have tried to modify the original Drouet system, in fact some of the Drouet flutes moved the Eb to the "right" side, as per the example above, and it should also be noted that both the C/C# and Eb touches vary in that sometimes they are curved towards one side, sometimes the other.

The system of the stacked keys seems to have been problem ridden from the very start. Rockstro commented on a flute by Drouet...

" the arrangement of the keys of the foot-joint is peculiarly complicated and inconvenient"

In this case he wasn't far wrong.

Let's look at the fingering of the foot joint keys with the original set up where the Eb is on the far side of the C#/C touches. As someone used to the normal simple system foot joint the only way I can see that this set-up can be used is to turn the foot towards the player to the extent that the Eb touch is on top of the flute, just about in line with the finger holes. This allows access to the Eb without the danger of hitting the C/C# touches.

How to manipulate these though? In the vast majority of flutes that I've looked at, the problem of moving from C# to C or vice versa attempts to be solved by curving the C touch up to meet the C# as seen here on Paul Bell's ivory Dollard.

So assuming that the foot is turned inwards sufficiently to allow access to the Eb key, the sequence Eb-C-C# can be played by using the finger tip to open the Eb, and then the first joint of L1 to depress the C touch, which will of course also close C#. Then rolling the finger to the left opens the C key and pressure being still on the C# touch, C# results. A bit awkward but doable. 

But what about the sequence Eb-C#-C, or in fact any sequence where C must be played after C#? If the C# touch is suppressed, this leaves a gap of 1mm or more between the C# and C touches, and the finger must somehow negotiate this without lessening pressure on the C# touch. This is presumably what the modifications on the Holtzappfel and Sax were meant to accomplish. Complicated and inconvenient doesn't go quite far enough!

In the case of my Dollard, there is no apparent attempt to connect the C and C#, which removes all possibility of playing C after C# without not only gap between the notes, but also the little finger would have to be taken off the C# making the sequence C#-C into C#-D-C.

I did consider the possibility that the C# touch had been bent down from the more common arrangement, but there is little evidence of this on the key.

Finally, there is one other strange aspect. On Paul Bell's ivory Dollard, which is the only other flute from the same maker with the same key system to which I currently have access, one spring, that on the C touch serves both it and the C# touch, and for this to happen the C touch must curve up and make contact with the C#.

On my Dollard however, despite the fact that the keys don't touch at all, there is a spring on the C#, and what's more, the end of the spring goes distinctly beyond the axle hole, meaning that the key operates in the opposite direction to usual...e.g.  a long C sprung in this way would stand open, not closed.

Maybe it's best to illustrate this.

Here's Paul Bell's C# touch

and mine









and here's the position of the key that the long spring induces.

Currently, I can see no sense in this arrangement, as it makes absolutely no difference to the original set up. It would have made more sense if the C# touch was sprung normally and the C touch fitted with a 'reverse spring', which would have the effect of keeping the C and C# touches touching...if that makes sense. This would, of course, cause all sorts of other issues for the operation of the keys though. This 'additional' spring does seem to be a later addition, as it's a steel spring whereas all the others are brass.

The whole concept of the facility with which a player can negotiate the notes provided by the foot joint keys is something that fascinates me as a flute maker.

Continental makers in particular, were keen to pursue the downward extension of the flute scale. I've never seen an English flute which goes below Bb...using four keys to be operated by the right pinky, whereas some Viennese and North Italian flutes descend as far as G, with complex arrangements of keys for both little fingers.

Many flute scholars, myself among them, would argue that these keys ( certainly the ones giving notes below B ) were more for show for the maker and/or the player, than of any practical import.

While I was working on this flute, I was given one of my own 8 keyed flutes from 1995 for overhaul. It used a system of foot joint keys which I haven't seen anywhere else, (although I stand open to correction) and which I only used once or twice. It's only when I was working on this blog that I saw the partial similarity between this...

...and Drouet's system. 

One can't be sure at this remove what Drouet's intention was, but mine was to simplify the C and C# touches. The C# touch is never a problem, but it's how to get around the C# cup/pewter and onto the C cup that's the issue. Up until the late 18th century the 'up and over' method, as seen on Potter's flutes was commonly used. This was superceded by the 'out around the side and back in again' system which was universal in the 19th century, as seen on the R & R foot illustrated above.

My idea was not to use either of these systems, but use two straight touches, which radically cuts down on the amount of time taken to fabricate the keys....and it's almost as easy to make the C# operate at right angles to the bore as along it.

Finally, back to the Dollard. When I was first stripping the flute down in preparation for the restoration I was amazed to see what looked like small neat lettering under the low C touch. Careful cleaning showed it to be...dirt!

However, when I was applying the cork lining to the barrel, I had taken off the ring at the top of the barrel, and this time there was no mistake. On the lower surface of the complex ring, the surface that bears against the top wooden rim of the barrel, there were three letters stamped.

  

I think the only distinct letter is the one to the right...X. The left hand one is probably R, but could be B.  The one in the middle is hard to figure.

Is it E? Is it another R? In the first pics above it does appear to be E, and therefore the whole sequence to be REX. Here's a couple of other views...  Why stamp these letters in a place where they would never have been seen unless the flute was dismantled for restoration? I suppose we'll never know. I'd really appreciate any input on this in terms of either a better reading of the stamp, or the significance of the letters. Thanks to Jem Hammond and Paul Bell for help with images. *Henley, William and Cyril Woodcock, Universal Dictionary of Violin & Bow Makers: Price Guide and Appendix, VII. Brighton: Amati Publishing, 1969.