Monday, March 16, 2015

Carving a Native American Mask

Here's another non-saxophone blog.  I have had several large pieces of cedar wash up on my beach.  Some of these appear to be from "cedar poaching," where a trespasser cuts down a cedar tree and then cuts the tree into "bolts" for use in making cedar shingles.  Contrary to the Wikipedia statement that these bolts are 12 inch blocks, they are usually 18 inches long and as big as a man can handle (if the cedar tree is large).  The poacher then pushes the bolt into the river or on to the beach and recovers the floating bolts under cover of darkness.  Time was when the poachers then used a fro to hand split cedar shakes.  I think the cedar thieves have switched to stealing other things. 

Anyway, old bolts show up on my beach once in awhile.  Here's what they look like.  These two have been trimmed up because it looks like they spent many months, maybe even years, floating around in the salt water and had the look of driftwood.  I cleaned them up with a chainsaw.  The top piece is the one used for this project.




They are sitting on top of a five gallon bucket, so that gives you some idea of the size.  It's old growth cedar and I can count at least 100 annual growth rings on the bottom piece.

I can also get cedar from my own property.  I usually cut down a cedar tree every other year to get kindling wood for the fireplace and woodstove.  I can save the butt of the tree and dry it for several years.  Here's just a chunk of a "pistol-butt" tree trunk.  It was pushed over as a sapling, maybe by heavy snow, and a new leader formed the actual 100 foot tall tree, leaving a interesting chunk of wood at the base.  This shows the original leader, now decayed, poking through the 90 degree bend.





The butt has interesting grain, which makes for difficult carving but nice grain in a carved piece.  Maybe a bowl?

To start, I shaped the bolt into the basic shape of the mask using an adze.  I can use a big adze for a little while, but soon need to switch to a little hand adze.  Careful with that adze, Eugene.

 Don't wear shoes like these when using an adze!  Steel toed boots, keep your toes up, and remember that the adze is the only hand tool that scares the devil.




After the hand adze, I switch to carving knives.  Here are the three that I used.  The hook knife or spoon knife doesn't have a sheath, but it is very important to keep it sharp and without any nicks.  A strip of leather can do that.






I followed the grain a little on one cedar bolt and got a little bit of a mask shape before starting.  This was mostly hatchet work.
 Then I can move on to some smaller tools.
 But first, I need a little more of an idea of what I'm going to be removing.  Here is a pattern that I made to the scale of the wood block.

A different perspective.


 Top and side view.
 The pattern is drawn on the wood and away we go.

 
Here it is about 10% done.  I know it seems like a lot has been accomplished, but the roughing out is the fastest part.


This is an odd stage in the process where I have to tell myself not to sweat the little details.  Sure, the nose isn't even, but so much material will be removed that it doesn't make sense to straighten things out too much right now.  Plus, it is hand carved.  Not too much point in making it look machine made.

Here is the next picture that I can find in the sequence.  The mask is now fairly well along.  There was probably 7 to 10 days of carving between these two pictures.  But that's only about 2 hours a day.  As soon as I got a little tired or distracted, I put down my razor sharp carving knives and went on to a non-carving project (like rebuilding a saxophone).  I only cut myself twice while carving this mask, both tiny cuts that didn't interfere with playing the saxophone.   


This is the first application of acrylic paint.  Acrylic paint is not exactly traditional, but very, very common on recent masks.  For the rest, I used alder sap for staining the crown band and ashes for some other areas.  These areas were then given a coating of bee's wax for protection.  You can also see on the picture above that the design was centered on the curvature of the wood grain to balance out the grain lines (click on the picture).  Otherwise, the grain lines can be quite lopsided and become distracting.  This way, they are distracting, but in a good way.



Because the more traditional colorings can't be applied with precision (hot bee's wax is hard to control), there is additional carving required on some of the colored surfaces.  Also, the wax has to be applied after the paint, or else the paint won't stick.




Then it's time for some details.  The accent around the bear's lips had to be cut in later because of the blackened wax coloring used on the face. 








The hair on top is black bear.  The whiskers are polar bear from a 1940's salmon fishing lure (its use then was very common).  It probably prohibits me from selling the mask, but that's okay because I didn't make it to sell.



There are two more details to be added to the mask.  First, the lower lip was designed to fit a labret, which I haven't made yet.  Second, the bear paw is fitted to hold a talisman, which I haven't made yet for this mask.


Update:  Here is the talisman that is tucked into the back side of the bear paw.  It looks like carved ivory, but it is actually carved from an invasive local tree.  "Holly" is even the name of the closest settlement.

You've probably noticed that there is a human mouth underneath the bear's mouth, and human ears on the sides of the mask.  My mask is a Bak'was transformation mask dealing with an unpleasant incident that gave my little bay it's name, Dewatto, meaning "stay away place."  

Here is a picture of the Bak'was spirit wearing clothing and a mask so that you can see its usually camouflaged human form (picture by Edward Curtis circa 1904).  The spirit has various names along the Pacific Coast, but is generally agreed to be the "stick man," a universal figure among Pacific Northwest Natives.  It's a long story.  Our local Bak'was tend to wear more salal than ferns and hemlock boughs (like this one).



He is also fond of wearing bear skins as a disguise (Edward Curtis circa 1914), especially when foraging on the beach for cockles, his favorite food.  That's where the trouble began at Dewatto.







Here are some other carvings.

Tshonok'wa (the wild woman), sometimes claimed to be the wives of Bak'was (my transfomation mask).  More than twice the size of Bak'was, she is probably responsible for the "Big Foot" sightings by early settlers.  When told that they had seen Tshonok'wa, the settlers apparently mistranslated it as "sasquatch."  Both she and Bak'was communicate by hooting like owls, so you can tell if they are in the area (assuming that you can distinguish between them and owls).  Sometimes, like here, she wears owl feathers.  To me, her most interesting feature is that she can imitate the voice of any child's grandmother.  That's how she lures children into the woods.  Today, parents fear child molesters.  Big deal.  Tshonok'wa eats them.


Here is a Hok Hok dancer wearing a Galukw'ami mask (crooked beak).





It has a raven nestled on its head.  The raven guides Galukw'ami, usually to people, as the raven is always watching and aware of exactly where people are in the woods.  Galukw'ami then cracks open their skulls and eats their brains.  Makes for a nice bedtime story.

The frog also helps Galukw'ami locate people.  When it stop croaking, that means that people are near.  On this carving, when the frog jumps, a string clacks the beak together creating the location call of the raven (hok hok).  People hearing the call generally only see the shape of the raven, so everything seems okay.



There's a lot happening on this carving (remember to click for more detail).


Kumug'wi, king of the ocean bottom.  He can simultaneously hold a beer, a sandwich, a pickle, a cigar, chips . . . .  Kumug'wi is considered very wealthy.  Every time a native canoe tipped over (and now every time a motor boat sinks), he becomes the owner of all that settles to the ocean floor.  He is undoubtedly tired of all the beer cans.












The loon is Kumug'wi's messenger from the surface of the ocean.  It informs Kumug'wi of vessels passing on the surface and he then decides whether to keep the surface calm. 

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

A Custom Hard Case for Tenor Saxophone - Hotrodding the cheapo case.

I was getting ready to attend a seminar in France and began wondering how I would transport my tenor saxophone and clothing for 10 days.  I happened into my local Goodwill thrift store looking for an old hard sided suitcase.  Something like the old Samsonite or American Tourister thick plastic suitcases that I had seen there in the past.  It would require the next size larger than this suitcase.  One with a corner-to-corner dimension of about 30 inches and a depth of at least 8 inches.

I figured that my tenor saxophone could be made to fit inside the case with room left over for some clothing.  True, it would not be your standard saxophone flight case.  It would be more of a special circumstance "checked baggage" dual purpose hard shell flight case.

My idea was to make a custom foam "cocoon" for the horn, place it in the suitcase, and have enough extra room for clothing.  All of this had to be kept down to the airlines international checked baggage requirements for size (62 inches HxWxD) and just the right suitcase would make that possible.  I knew that my local Goodwill would be the best place to find a cheap cadaver for my experiment.  Goodwill had quite a selection.

I was surprised to find among the suitcases a hard shell tenor saxophone case!!!.  It wasn't one of those high-end hard case.  In fact, it was a low-end super un-protective hard case.  


I don't know what the brand name is, but these are fairly common.  This one has a zipper around it instead of three or four latches, which I prefer, but other styles are available.  New, they are about $100 (there were some Chinese-made fiberglass cases being sold on Ebay for less, but I couldn't find them when I wrote this).  Because this one was used and at a thrift store, it was considerably cheaper.


When I took it to the cashier, I learned that because it was Tuesday(??), everything in the store was 20% off.  So I paid $5.60.  Not bad for my cadaver.  I later found a picture of this case from back in the day.  Check out the sax case on the cover of the Brecker Brothers Heavy Metal BeBop  from 1978.  

There are two reasons I called this case super un-protective.  First, it is designed to fit an imaginary generic saxophone (and was probably designed by somebody who had never held a saxophone).  That is very common with saxophone cases.  They tend to consist of a "saxophone-shaped hole" in which to place a variety of saxophones.  You can't really fault the manufacturers, as they are trying to meet a broad market.  Left hand bell keys, right hand bell keys, split bell keys, wide bell, narrow bell, vintage, new, etc. "One case to fit them all!"  Unfortunately, that doesn't work very well, and working well is the reason for getting a hard-sided flight case.  If you look at the picture above, you can see that this design has a bulge for both left and right bell keys, but the bulge is not actually shaped to fit any bell key guards that I have ever seen.

The second reason that this one is super un-protective is that the "padding" was kind of a joke.  There was a dribble of soft foam poured in and then covered by a foam-back cloth.  The two types of foam seemed to be incompatible and had both begun to crumble.




As with many sax cases, it is easy to see where the pressure points are when the case has the common "saxophone-shaped hole."  In this one, the material had worn through in a few places, generally at the rim of the bell, the thumb hook, the neck ring, and several other places, which indicates that the horn doesn't fit and moves around in the case, which means that it isn't really protected.

The hole in the cloth is where the saxophone rubbed against it.

What a wear point tells you, with any case, is that should the case be dropped there would be a pressure point at that spot.  If your case has a wear mark by the thumb hook, and you drop your case, guess where the most pressure is going to be applied?  It doesn't matter if the case has three inches of foam in some other area if the thumb hook or bell rim area is worn through so that it's touching the hard case.   I know this from having repaired bent thumb hooks and punched in body tubes damage that occurred when the case was dropped.  Here's a blog on how to make a generic vintage case more protective.

So how do I make sure that my precious baby is properly swaddled in my new case?  First, I tear out the old foam and cloth to get to the plastic shell, which is really the only thing of value on this old case (and also with many new cases).  The shell material seems okay, not too rigid/brittle and not to soft.  I know from other projects that spray or injected foam adds some strength to shells.  Certainly more than glued in pieces of sheet foam, the more common padding material.  Below is a picture of the shell cleaned out and ready to be modified to fit an actual saxophone.


I am making a case for my 1943 Martin Centennial tenor.  It has left hand bell keys, a long, narrow bell, and a long distance from the bell brace to the bow, a distinctive bell key guard, as well as other non-generic tenor features.  Although the Martin would fit in some of the expensive hard flight cases with generic saxophone-shaped holes, that's not good enough (and would cost me $300 more than my custom case).

The first thing that I did doesn't really relate to the custom interior.  I added a strap so that the case can't open 180 degrees as in the photos above.  I just didn't like the way it flopped open.  The new strap stops it at about 90 degrees.  


Now on to the custom interior.  I mummified my saxophone in thin plastic film, like Saran Wrap, to make sure that I couldn't get any foam on it.  I had to be careful how the wrapping was applied because the plastic film tended to smooth out the complex surface of the horn and that would result in something similar to the generic "saxophone-shaped hole" that I was trying to avoid.  On the other hand, even though I was making a custom case to fit a 1943 Martin tenor, and only a 1943 Martin tenor, I didn't want the horn to become encased in foam so that removal would be difficult.  So I wrapped the sax in plastic wrap and then stretched or cut the wrap in places where I wanted a really close fit (like around every key guard).


Above is my work area covered with plastic and the case masked so that I can minimize the foam getting on the zipper and causing problems.  I got some on the zipper anyway and it is only a cosmetic problem that I haven't bothered to completely clean up yet.  I decided to let the spilled foam wear off naturally.  It makes the exterior of the case look a little ratty, but that may be an advantage.  Give a thief the choice between a ratty case and a shiny new case and I think I know which will be stolen.


I used some scrap foam to ensure that the horn would be held at the right height when foamed in to place.


Here is a test positioning (prior to encasing the horn in plastic film) showing the foam stand offs.  Notice that the neck has a plug in it, which is required to make sure that you'll have enough room, and only enough room, to have a neck plug in the horn when using the case.  The "dry run" allows you to see what position will allow for maximum protection of a real live saxophone.


Here the horn, encased in plastic wrap, is also encased in the cloth material that will serve as the liner.  A bed of foam is then laid down.  I used Great Stuff "Window and Door" canned foam, about $6 per can at Home Depot.  The project took two cans (because I foamed it twice).  I used acetone to clean the applicator between foaming sessions so that I could use the one-time-only cans for several applications.


The horn is positioned in the uncured foam and any areas that aren't filled enough are touched up.  The foam keeps rising after it leaves the can, so it takes less than it appears at first squirt.  It also pushed the cloth up around keys, key guards, and between the bow and bell for maximum contact.  Do not use the regular Great Foam.  The expansion is too powerful and it continues to expand for about a week.  It will likely blow open your case.


The excess foam is then trimmed off and the cloth is laid down over the edges and tucked in.  A little shot of hot glue in a few places will keep it tucked in.

Here you can see the material that I used (faux snake skin) and something that I learned about foam.  Foam can migrate through cloth a little bit.  That's what the white blush on the material is.
  


It turned out that I didn't like the way the foam came through the material and the horn was positioned too high on that side of the case, meaning that it wasn't positioned evenly halfway in the case from top to bottom.  I tore it out and started over.  

For the next attempt, I used a black material commonly referred to as polar fleece.  It's often used in instrument cases (as in this blog about relining a vintage case).  It provides no padding (although it looks like it does) and is simply a covering for the custom foam.  It provides a little abrasion protection when the horn slides around in a generic saxophone-shaped hole, but that won't be necessary with this case.

The other thing my first attempt taught me is that bonding the cloth to the foam during a single step is an unnecessary complication.  Were I to do it over, I would wrap the horn in a sheet of polyester film (aka, visqueen) and foam it.  Then use either spray adhesive or the hot glue gun to attach the fabric to the protective plastic that remains lining your custom indentation in the foam.  The fabric lining doesn't (or shouldn't) get pulled on, so just "tacking" it in place after foaming would be sufficient. 

As you might imagine, taking pictures while working with foam is a little complicated.  That's why I'm missing the next step.  Once the new cloth material was used on one side of the case, the other side needed to be foamed.  I made foam stand offs again, shot foam in the case, laid down the material,* put the horn on top, closed the case, and held it shut with straps.  Then I waited 8 hours to see what I had.  There were a few places that need touching up with additional foam before the material could be tucked in around the edges. 
*Were I to do it again, I would have just used the plastic film, as noted above.  Using the cloth complicated things more than necessary.

 The "custom fit" aspect of the case is interesting.  Because of the way it was foamed, the areas around the horn, i.e., between the horn and the edge of the case, are not perfectly flat.  That area is not always in the same plane as the zipper, as with sax cases that have a "generic saxophone-shaped hole."  Some spots are high and some are low, but the opposite side of the case has corresponding highs and lows because it was later foamed to fit both the sax and the other side of the case, so the custom foam sides interlock. 

Areas like the thumb hook have their own little custom indentation, with the foam and cloth lining then coming up against the body tube, or surrounding a key guard.  The cloth I ended up using is quite slippery, which is good, because the horn has to be wiggled in and out of its position.  Most notably is the bell, which has to be just right for the case to close.


Photos of black material are difficult, as I found in a prior blog about saxophone cases, but if you click on the picture, you can see that the entire bell is completely and evenly supported by the foam, including a little going inside the bell.  The foam is form fitting halfway up the side of the bell on the left of the picture and comes up almost to the bell brace between the bell and the body.  The other half of the case, when closed, does the same and the entire horn is essentially clamped into place with foam.  Although the bell is only 3/4 of an inch away from the side, getting the horn to move that 3/4 of an inch would require a deformation of basically the entire horn (or the entire hard case), which can happen under extreme conditions.  Of course under extreme conditions, as noted in the video, not even a case would matter.

Other areas of the saxophone are likewise evenly supported by the custom foam.
You can see the imprint of the wire key guard, the bulging of the foam between the bell and the body tube, as well as the contours of the palm keys in the custom case.

You can see a "V" shaped indentation matching the Centennial's unique bell key guards opposite the bell key guards in the top two pictures.  Every key guard fits in its own custom place.  Even the keys and posts are supported.  The idea is to spread any point loads as wide as possible.  A generic saxophone-shaped hole can protect the horn once enough foam has collapsed at the point loads.  I'm just looking to spread the point loads and eliminate excess and ineffective foam.  

The downside is that this case fits only a 1942-43 Martin Centennial tenor, but that's okay.  I don't intend to keep it when I sell the horn, as I might with a hard shell case that has a generic saxophone-shaped hole.  The form-fitting nature of the case requires that the neck and the mouthpiece and the neck strap be put down the bell.  That's not a problem since I had enough extra lining material to make some padded bags.  I've also gotten used to this method with some of my other cases and have never had a problem.  Plus, I tend to take an over-the-shoulder bag for music, stand, etc., so I have room elsewhere and I can keep the size of the sax case to a minimum.


My custom hard case weighs 4 pounds 4 ounces (1.9 kg), 11.5 pounds with the horn, mouthpiece, and neck strap (5.2 kg).  Most people would think that it is an alto hard case because it is a lot smaller than generic hard-sided tenor flight cases and considerably smaller than stuff that I see people lugging on to a flight as carry-on baggage.  I shouldn't have any problem using this as carry-on, allowing me to just use a regular checked suitcase for my clothing.  I won't be able to test that for a couple of months.  But I can test other aspects of my new case.

So, how protective is it?  Only one way to find out.



When I first play tested the horn, I thought that I had ruined my Martin.  It sounded just like a Selmer.  But then I remembered that I had put a spare mouthpiece down the bell.  Once I removed the obstruction, it sounded perfect again.

Update:  I have had no trouble taking this as carry-on luggage on several local and international flights.  I was told at one point that I could take it aboard because it was an alto.  Who am I to disagree?  I also feel better taking this to the airport because, if I do have to check it, I know it won't be bouncing around inside of a generic case.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Another Saxophone Leak that a Light Can't Detect.

I wrote a prior blog about using air for leak detection rather than the usual leak light.  I now use the leak light to chase down leaks, but to do overall testing, and to find leaks that go undetected with a light, I'm using the air suction test as my initial check.

I just found another leak that would have gone undetected had I not used a suction test.  I know that's the case because the person I purchased the horn from, as well as the technician(s) that worked on the horn had not figured out that there was an odd leak.

When UPS delivered the horn, a 1955 Buescher Aristocrat, I unpacked it and took it for a test toot.  I immediately noticed that there was something odd.  The low end seemed weak, 2nd D was stuffy, and the key heights on the lower stack were extremely high.  The pads looked new, but something wasn't sealing.  These horns have a great reputation and I was expecting something on par with my Martin tenor.

As per the prior post, I put plastic wrap over the bell, fingered low Bb, and slowly inhaled through the neck.  The plastic wrap could be sucked in, but I could basically breath through the horn almost like one of the pip vents was open.  And I could hear a hissing sound.  Something was really wrong for a horn that had new pads and recent servicing.

Starting at the neck, as in the prior blog, I sealed off the neck tenon, and sucked.  I could hear a distinct hiss, so I put pressure on the octave pip pad to make sure that it was sealing.  That wasn't the problem.  I looked closely at the neck cork for any weird splits.  Nope.  I had a Martin that had a pinhole leak in the tenon solder, but that wasn't the case here.

I could see that the neck brace, which is soldered up against the underside of the neck, had a little split in it.  I could also reach in through the tenon just far enough to feel a ridge or split on the inside of the neck.  So I put soapy water on the neck and blew air into it.  It was like a kid's bubble pipe.  You can hit the "full screen" icon to view this video.  



The leak created a tiny "ghost vent" right between the upper and lower pips.  It was always open, which caused several odd things that weren't immediately apparent (the prior owner gigged with this horn, so it is possible to "practice, practice, practice" and live with the problem).  Here is a picture of the tiny split along only one side of the brace.  It was about an inch (2.5cm) long.



You can see that the neck has plenty of tiny dents and the lacquer is not great (about the same as the rest of the horn).  The neck tenon was a perfect fit, which on a 1955 horn means that it was probably adjusted at some point. I suspect that the neck received a sharp knock of the kind that "shocks" a solder joint open.  Closer examination of the neck showed that it was slightly out of round and the tiny dents may have been the result of somebody putting the neck back closer to round.  Don't know.  That's when the neck tenon may have been adjusted back to perfect. What they didn't do, clearly, is check that the neck still sealed.  

The horn had a stuffy 2nd D, a common indication of a leak, but this leak was high enough on the horn so that it really affected the entire horn.  The horn had a "spread" sound common to vintage American saxophones, but that was in part because the tiny ghost vent was adding high partials to the entire lower register.  In fact, the lower stack keys were the the highest that I had ever seen.  Really open pads flattens the notes and tends to keep the low end from "jumping register" (because the ghost vent is like pressing the octave key a tiny bit).  

I first sealed up the leak using some sticky clay stuff commonly called "blue tack," although mine isn't blue.  This showed me that the leak was in fact causing some problems.  It also showed me that the neck leak wasn't the only problem.  More on the other problems in another blog.




Once the leak was fixed, I actually doubled the thickness of the lower stack corks to reduce the heights.  It had 1/32nd inch thick cork of the key feet.  I put on 1/16th inch thick cork, which lowered the pads about 1/8th of an inch.  That's a huge difference.  It makes the lower stack feel much quicker (maybe it is) and it tunes just fine.

Probably the worst thing a little leak does is that it sucks power out of the horn.  You can mess with key heights for intonation issues and you can get some more power out of the horn by maximizing pad heights, but there's only so much that can be done if there's a little leak high on the horn.

Since this wasn't a pristine horn, I had a go at resoldering the neck brace.  I was hoping that there would be enough solder already in place that, once fluxed (using a needle to apply), heat would be all that was necessary.  I had some solder handy just in case that didn't happen.  And it didn't.  I had to add a touch of solder.  Careful as I was, it shows a little outside of the brace.  
Once the solder tarnishes a little, it was disappear, as it will be camouflaged by the general condition of the vintage horn.

I could have taken this to a specialist to completely remove the brace, reshape the neck better (maybe), and re-solder the neck seam before re-installing the brace.  I could also pay to have the neck really cleaned up and re-lacquered.  It would cost me about 50% of what I paid for the horn and it would be so pretty that it wouldn't match the funky finish on the horn.  No thanks.  I'm happy with a player. 

After chasing down more "common" leaks on the pads (and this was horn that was just "serviced"), this Buescher tenor was back in business.  I wrote another blog about the other leaks that I found because the knowledge should be standard operating procedure for DIY horn tinkerers and, just as important, players should know what to look for when buying or getting a horn back from their tech.  In the meantime, what a nice difference the "suck" method of leak detection provided for this old horn.