Author: triplereed
Date: 2008-07-05 23:08
Here I am again with the story of my Lark.
First off, let's point out that if a judgement is to be made keeping into account each and every aspect of what a given instruments offers firsthand to the potential buyer, then the Lark definitely has no points to it - period. This was not an RTP (Ready To Play), but rather a ARP (Almost Ready to Play) oboe! It took skilled judgement, lots of patience, a full set of new pads and cork plus some three months' hard work to bring out its true character before I could pronounce it finished. This oboe certainly won't rank among top class ones, that's for sure, yet it turned out to be good enough to put asleep any haste to dump it and look around for something else. So believe me when I say that it wouldn't be fair rating it unworthy: as a luthier of stringed instruments and woodwind repairman I test-played several oboes either champions or cheapies, which doesn't quite make for a hapless depiction.
Besides having laid my hands on a superb Ripamonti «Système 3» 1870s Triébert replica (serial #2 of the only four ever built by that firm), and currently seeking after a grenadilla full conservatoire half-automatic, I happen to be a fairly contented owner of the aforementioned Lark which I currently play in a marching band since 1998 other than having recorded a solo on CD four years ago and performed in a church less than a month ago.
For those unaware of its existence, Lark is a long-lived brand name associated with one among the many Chinese mass manufacturers of music instruments. Lark brand oboes are nearly extinct nowadays, yet some of them still pop up from time to time for sale by private bidders or second hand shops. Recently I was surprised to discover that this model is still in production under a flock of different brand names, either in plain rosewood http://www.alibaba.com/product-gs/200883878/oboe/showimage.html or lacquered http://www.alibaba.com/product-gs/51264084/oboe/showimage.html, with low Bb vent key added at last. Lark instruments did rank typically at entry level, although they really went by from obscene to stunning: to give a couple of examples, most Lark brasswind were notorious for their fragility (some were pretty acceptable sound-wise but showed an alarming tendency to shrivel into one's hands), while their ebonite clarinet had a beautiful voice other than being loud and surprisingly dead in tune, save for its keywork that was a piece of pure junk. Things changed dramatically today, but those were the years when the infamous "crate wood violin shaped objects" were flooding our music stores and 'Chinese' simply meant 'crap', often righteously...
My own Lark oboe doesn't quite fit such a picture but rather stands in a class of its own. It's not the typical 'student' oboe with diminished compass, oversimplified keywork, synthetic upper joint lining or molded plastic construction. Indeed, it's a faithful clone of the pre-Gillet Conservatoire ring system, full automatic model - matching Chris' description of the Mönnig - only put together with some well-known Chinese carelessness yet without any evidence of being a toy instrument since both wood and metal are quite good. I didn't switch to it after previous practice, but I learned to play on it right away. In the long run this beast revealed a most peculiar character packed together with some quirks, as with almost every outdated oboe design.
Long before global market sprouted Chinese online wholesalers and similar ventures, a now-defunct Italian music dealer put on sale model M4004, the only really affordable yet functional wooden oboe available here for nearly two decades. I bought mine by chance in 1995 during a short stay in a small town of central Italy where my former group and I made friends with the local free jazz ensemble with whom we jammed and recorded. Their soprano saxophonist got to know about my deep love for the oboe and how long I sought after one without success before surrendering to the notion that the money for a pretty good clarinet or a decent flute would barely buy me a clunker oboe if that. He remembered spotting one in a nondescript shop and some days later he'd been able to recall where the instrument was. He advised me to go downtown to check whether it was still there, so that's what I did the next day.
Down the vault of a tiny furniture and household appliances shop, under the glaring neon of a wall-pit glass display cabinet, I saw this heap of heavily tarnished keywork surrounding a shiny black cone in three sections resting in its crimson velvet lined case. I must say that, although at the time I was already playing flute and recorder, I couldn't tell the difference between oboe systems otherwise on second thought I probably wouldn't have bought it. But that was my August vacation, already laced with gigs and rehersals, and there was this lonely oboe right before my eyes hidden behind massed dishwashers, air conditioners, and refrigerators stored in the basement of what once was a music shop, as I later was told. Having put away some money from the past concerts, I ran upstairs and ask for price. The shop owner was struck by my request. He said that «that old Chinese clarinet» laid quite unnoticed in its open case for some ten years (!), never being put together let alone played (hence the heavily tarnished keywork, parched pads, missing corks, rusty springs etc.), and that he wasn't sure whether he wanted to sell it. He didn't give a straight answer to my question, so I began to wonder if he still had a price list or if he was to fix a sum on the spot by guess, because he looked a little puzzled. I was ready to plunk out about seven or eight hundred of today's euros when the man, returning from a quick talk with his associate, nailed down his request for a flat hundred. Done!
Now for a little description. Body material is nyatoh (nato, i.e. Indian rosewood) covered with a thin layer of black lacquer. The ringless bell is imprinted in gold with maker's name, model and logo along with a line in Chinese ideograms stating "made in Shanghai". It's a shame they painted it, perhaps only because the wood grain wasn't exactly gorgeous to begin with. The bore appears neatly turned albeit right out of the case it had a dull look. After thorough oiling, however, it took a more orthodox appearance. Tenons and sockets are metal lined, of very exacting tolerance, but both mortises required milling the bottom of a pillar stem which protruded slightly through the lining, threatening the tenon corks. Being bearing points for keyaxles and pins for the tenon linings at the same time, the stems must sit flush with the inside of the lining following its curvature.
Tone hole layout is overall good and cleanly cut, with no end grain runout across the edges of keyed holes' countersink. All the edges are neat and the only minor flaw is a slight lacquer buildup on the ring chimneys, which on the other hand allow a perfect clearance to their rings. The latter sit level with chimneys and the feel for left hand middle and ring fingers is great. All of the cups are precisely aligned with their holes and every ring surrounds its chimney with neither drag nor excess play.
The keyaxle supporting the 'butterfly' touchpiece assigned to left pinky was the only serious flaw I found on my oboe. The B touchpiece between the Bb/Eb 'butterfly' lever, hinged to it via a tiny conical needle that grips inside a cylindrical pilot hole at the rod's end, was soldered too low to its tube and the joint soon begun to wobble, ending up in separation within a couple of months. Besides this and other minor points of excess play, which took me three months' work (spare time only!) to fully eliminate, M4004's keywork is a most faithful replica of the original Système 6 down to the last detail: the half-hole plate is linked to the speaker changeover mechanism but it can be set to act independently for tuning purposes. The small Bb and C keys on the top joint can be operated by any of the four right hand fingers; however the adjustment screws controlling the linkage are long enough to be fully retracted in order to assign the connection to the right forefinger only as with the standard French models with covered keys (this is what I did). The same arrangement is applied to the low B-C link. At the time I begun taking lessons, my former teacher noticed such a feature and argued that it was more of a drawback than advantage because the link rules out independent use of the two lowest keys in order to steady some notes, reinforce others, and provide an useful alternative for top Eb. Backing off the adjustment screw didn't work at all because the small square frame, deep contact plate and short screw with long screw post made it unfeasible, so I disengaged it irreversibly by filing away the contact plate and removing the screw while mantaining the empty post (it makes a perfect feather holder...). It's a pity, but I had to make a choice anyway and my teacher, a talented and trusty person, wasn't already too fond of having to cope with a student learning on a German-style, open hole automatic speaker oboe while he and the rest of the class had standard French half-automatic oboes with covered keys. I didn't either, and my regret is that the automatic speaker diminished my chops since I still lack the wrist automatism required to open the second speaker: every time I happen to play a more orthodox instrument, I'm stuck until my brain slowly toggles in Conservatoire mode! Hell, I feel lucky anyway: I play oboe at last...
All in all, I have to admit that the M4004's keywork with its intricate automatic octave multipoint linkages was a real pain in the ass to set it working right, but I did it and don't regret one bit for putting my trust in its potential. The sloppy assemblage and subsequent play in many crucial spots, coupled with the coarse threads of many adjusting screw posts (a bit of tapping, drops of oil and lots of TLC) added to the brittle silencers crying for fresh cork, as I already said, gave me nightmares; but once set up, the whole mechanism proved to be remarkably quiet, reliable (I seldom need to readjust it), and very agile. My concerns about how long my work would last vanished upon noticing that pillars, keyaxles, posts, and levers are sturdy, all of correct proportions and burr-free, with no sharp or rough edges. Certainly they aren't wimpy and prone to break like those found on many modern entry-level Korean woodwinds or like those I discovered with dismay on many plastic 'student' oboes, and they don't bend easily either. The alloy is hard and resilient yet it can be reshaped with a couple of padded pliers as it should be. Key cups are shallow enough to allow the use of low profile pads. When came time to polish the keywork, the genuine silver plating turned out to be inconsistent. While on the keys and levers it's fairly thick, on pillars it's noticeably thinner: with some of them the plating wore away at the first touch of the buffing wheel, so now the keywork sports some 'gold' mounting posts.
The needle springs aren't certainly the best ones I saw. The steel wire showed rough clippings so it was all too easy to be hurt just by handling the instrument. They managed to rough out the side to be inserted into pillars, but it's a fact that each and every spring required full treatment: removal, flattening to avoid play, sanding the roughly cut ends, replacing, and bending back to right tension. I even buffed the wire tips and gave each one a gentle curve where it meets its engage point, a feature that often sets the gap between a decent setup and a professional one. Once set, I decided for the tiniest drop of thin cyanoacrilate glue in each pillar hole.
Nearly all of the flat springs were rusty, plus the one controlling low Eb key was so corroded that broke after a month and was replaced. After all those years of suspended life, without receiving a single blow, all of the already poor pads had become brittle and crumbly and required replacement. The speakers, the half-hole plate and the perforated E plate (r. h. middle finger) sported cork pads, all equally brittle and demanding replacement. Strangely enough, the cork on the tenons was supple and perfectly set. Still no replacement in view.
Concerning the keywork, the downsides on the stock instrument were limited to a too-high speaker touchpiece which I bent slightly to bring it closer to the body in order to lessen end play: when any of the speakers was already fully open, the touchpiece had still a lot to travel before contacting the body. Now the touchpiece is slightly tilting forward and travels about 2 millimeters, thus allowing a rolling motion of the left thumb if so desired.
Again, the lack of F# plate extender (r. h. forefinger) is a challenge for a person with small hands (like mine) because on the oboe the stretch required is already quite big. I overcame that and went even further: the unique arrangement of the F#/G# articulation lacks the usual S-arm that overlaps the G# pad as on French oboes, replacing it with a link to the upper Bb/C bridge so that the articulation is operated from behind. Upon inspection (and galloping fantasy), I thought about the chance of adding a key to the lever stub abutting the body. Eventually I did it, and now my Lark is equipped with a dual function G-Bb trill whose small touchpiece lies between F# plate and G# pad (take a look at it here: http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2178/1894525838_1cc53f6511_o.jpg). I reach it more or less the way I do with the small Bb auxiliary key on the flute, i. e. with the side of the index finger's second knuckle. Just like a thumbplate mechanism, it opens the little Bb and C pads without closing the F# plate, thus allowing a better venting of middle Bb under certain circumstances (with stuffy reeds it proved to be a God's gift) and, by a lesser degree, changing tone color of middle C.
Lacking the Bb vent on the bell, the latter also being of the elongated style, low Bb is a tad flat and with some reeds cannot be brought up to pitch during fast runs unless played as an isolated note. However, with a little embouchure switch and slack lips it can be flattened to a well-tuned A. With reeds 73 mm long or with long scrape this is particularly true, so I can enjoy playing an extended low range. It's not easy, but again it's another side of my 'revenge' against the cynical detractors I go on meeting from time to time. Being a ring model there's no split E mechanism, but E's in either octave can actually be played in tune with Eb key held down just by keeping the finger on its ring in order to barely uncover the hole with reduced venting. It's just a matter of touch, of course less istinctive than with the split ring, but it works and the tone doesn't suffer at all. By the way, the same trick allows the G#/A trill with one finger. Who needs finger plates anymore? :-)
While the keywork assemblage was sloppy and the pads were noticeably crappy, surely the manufacturer didn't cut corners on the wood which revealed a far better resonance than I ever imagined. Indeed, the thing I like best about my Lark is its sweet and poignant voice. Although lacking the sheer power of many a first-rate blackwood or grenadilla oboe, the tone is very vocal and lively, and allows for a fairly good dynamic control. The low notes aren't a little bit reticent, provided that none of the pad leaks. The whole instrument speaks effortlessly from low B to top G and intonation, although not quite perfect, is overall good and homogeneous so that it's very easy to control. Blowing harder simply increases the volume. No way the instrument's pitch will raise or drop as if it were a hooter! When it comes to reeds, however, the instrument is somewhat squeamish. With perfect reeds I can even reach top A. With less than perfect reeds low and middle E's become stuffy, middle Bb is noticeably muffled, high G sounds piercing, high A is a bit unstable, high D becomes thin... But alas, as I said is just a matter of knowing what to feed the beast with. I go for both DM and #2 staples and, oddily enough, I discovered that the DM makes for too thin a tone while the #2 gauge allows a broader voice and more 'breath'. My next try will be something even larger. All my reeds are French style (U scrape, 9 to 11 mm deep) and range from 70.5 mm for the marching band (always a little on the sharp side) to 73 mm for chamber music, folk group, recording studio etc.
The Lark isn't equipped with the third octave key; for about three years, when I was still learning the basics, I could hardly reach the highest notes ending up in belief that my oboe carried an upsetting limitation since it wouldn't speak at all past top Eb; but that was my fault, not the instrument's. One more thing I did long after completion, with the oboe already played in, was to enlarge the half-hole plate hole (which is round and not shaped like a frog's eye) to 1,1 mm from the 0.8 mm set by the factory because middle C# hissed a lot, plus I arranged the bridge linked to the G ring in order to lower the half-hole plate instead of totally closing it, otherwise high C# won't play in tune unless releasing low C key. As I was simultaneously studying the history of oboe's development and learning how to service it (among woodwinds I was already repairing and restoring flutes, recorders and clarinets) everything cleared up and I begun to expand my range of useful notes as I gained confidence with the instrument. Well, I tried several oboes with the third octave key and honestly they're far easier to speak up there, but I feel contented just the same... All in all I rate myself a rather mediocre oboist. I just happen to play oboe because I relish its voice, I simply love it more than any other musical instrument and enjoy playing immensely. The actual drawbacks of my instrument are the fewer harmonic fingerings available compared to a half-automatic one, but I'm not a professional oboist anyway and don't work within orchestras. I feel the open hole configuration (three rings out of six main finger posts) truly comfortable because this arrangement brings the left hand more in contact with the core of the horn. Compared with the flute's large plates or the clarinet's neat, 'flat' ring arrangement, the small and convex plates of many modern oboes do actually have a rather hovering feel at first touch, which may be felt as awkward or unstable. Furthermore, it's a joy to glide back and forth between F and D (or Eb) thanks to the roller on main F key, a feature lacking on the contemporary French system. Another nice touch are the D/E, G/A, and A/B slides feasible from the ring keys.
So what! Yes, maybe mine is the worst oboe ever... But I'm pretty fond of it even if at times I say to myself:
«Don't try this again! Next time go buy a real oboe, huh?»
If music was an apple, I'd be the snake
Post Edited (2009-04-05 23:57)
|
|
The Oboe BBoard
.jpg){kind=small}
