Hammermaker's corner 8

[isaacah]

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Hammermaker's corner 8.



Ari isaac.





At this point two things came together; the dimensions of the felt =
sheets I would use and the shape of the bottom cawl, or former in the =
press. Assuming the felt had a lot of resilience, spring, how to =
transfer it to the hammer? The answer, to my mind, was to extrude the =
felt into the bottom cawl and to wipe it around the molding while =
holding it stretched. This would provide the compression and, unlike =
every other hammer I had seen, a lot of tension around the outside, =
right around the hammer. I had, by now, been to a number of hammer =
making establishments like Steinways in New York, Ronsons, Best and =
Bohne in toronto as well as Hale in Boston. I had, also, seen =
photographs of European presses. Every press I'd seen acted like =
aglorified clamp; the bottom cawl folded the felt around the tip of the =
molding but no extruding pressure and no tension around the outside was, =
or could have been imparted to the felt because of the cawl shapes and =
because the various felt sheets used had no sheering strength to speak =
of. This presented me with a double edged difficulty; to build maximum =
density into the felt sheet - appropriate to the particular place along =
the bass/treble axis of the scale - while, at the same time, not making =
the sheet so dense as to have it crack, split, while being pressed. The =
pressures and tensions used to press IsaacCadenza hammers are =
tremendous, far greater than anything I'd seen in the industry. All This =
needed a precision in designing the felt sheet and a special cawl.

I had been introduced to C., a small partner in a huge machine shop. C. =
is one of the brightest people it has been my good fortune to know. =
Italian, came to Toronto as a kid, what C. has forgotten is more than =
everyone else I met, including myself, of course, has ever learned. I =
haven't measured what he has forgotten, it's just a way of expressing my =
awareness and appreciation of C's knowledge and skills. He is a prince =
of a man with a heart of gold which he covers up by a rough extierior.

"Shiit, what do YOU want?" was his telephone greeting when I used to =
call him at the shop. I would tell him my problem which, to me, was =
urgent.

"I'm up to my a-hole in alegators. Why should I fix YOUR problem. You =
and everyone else."

By then I knew him and I would retort with something like

"Because I'm uglier than you". Or=20

"Because I have a bigger nose than you do". Or something raunchier. All =
of this was just his way of sounding tough. He would fix my problem =
every time, he would fixit quick and he would fix it right, I mean, =
really right.=20

It was C who had give me the toughest test of my life. High school, =
university. forget it. One of our first meetings was about him making =
the machined parts of the hammer press. He said he would make the cawls =
in his way and he was, as usual, pretty certain that his way was =
correct. It usually was, but that time I said no, I needed him to do it =
my way.=20

"why?" he asked, his eyes boring into my face saying

"you'd better give me a damn good reason to do it your way or else you =
can forget it."

I knew I'd arrived at the crucial moment of the whole hammer making =
project. If I could not convince C of the correctness of my reasoning =
which aimed at the tonal quality I wanted to produce - I would be =
dismissed by him as a poor fools and I could tell so very clearly that C =
did not suffer fools gladly.=20

I passed the test. He saw my reasoning and while he hated doing it my =
way, because it entailed complex machining, he made my very special =
cawls and he saw to it that they were beautifully made. The greatest =
benefit - we became friends.=20

It was now time to start making hammers with the second hammer press and =
the felt sheets especially designed to my own specs. I glued up a set of =
moldings and a strip of felt using the normal yellow glue. I closed the =
press and came back about two hours later. I opened the press and guess =
what. the felt strip opened flat, the glue as wet as the moment I'd =
squeezed it out of the bottle. My disappointment was profound, I was =
convinced I was not good enough to do this. I was just trying to impress =
myself and everyone else but here was the bare truth - a strip of =
unglued felt with wet glue spread all over it and a set of moldings in =
the holding trey, I started to, mentally, beat up on myself. What I =
needed to learn that day but didn't, was that every step of the way =
needed to be researched to the last detail and the research would have =
to be directed to making hammers my own way. Just because company X used =
a certain glue to make its hammers would not mean I could use the same =
process, the same would be true for every facet of hammer making, except =
I didn't'learn the lesson that day. To learn it and see it for what it =
was - - the right to do things my own, one's own, way, took a long time.

I did, eventually find an adhesive that glued the felt to the moldings =
successfully. This was after a parade of adhesive salesmen who, each, =
promised their product would glue the outer sking of a jumbo jet to the =
frame or glue the earth to the moon or some other fantastic claim. I =
would try their glue according to their specs, some of them stayed to =
observe while their product performed, only to come up with nothing. =
Once I'd found the glue that did the job and the first set of hammers =
came out of the press - I needed to slice the hammers. The lesson of the =
felt and the glue was going to be learned yet again.=20


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