Poco A Poco

Day 325: There's an old joke about harpists which applies almost equally to harpsichordists: they spend half their time tuning up and the other half of the time playing out of tune. Trust me, I know. I play both. Although a harpsichord holds its tune better than a harp, it is much more difficult to maintain because each note is serviced by two strings, each of which supplies a "voice," i.e., when A is struck and both voices are active, two plectra are raised to pluck adjacent strings. These voices can be isolated or muted at the performer's discretion, although doing so does not affect tuning. However, to further complicate the tuner's job, each string runs the length of the sound box from one tuning peg, goes 'round a stationary peg and returns to be wound on a second tuning peg to give the next musical half-step. In other words, A and B-flat are played on halves of the same string in any one voice. As the tuner brings A to pitch, the tension of B-flat is also affected, so that a balance must be achieved, and each voice must be tuned separately.

Okay, if you're good and confused, maybe you'll understand why I always left the tuning of my harpsichord in my late husband's capable hands. The man couldn't read a note, but had perfect pitch. It took him about half an hour to perform the equivalent of a full-day operation for me. Since I've been on my own, tuning is something I try to avoid, often playing with the instrument so badly out of pitch that it makes me cringe, and never playing in front of anyone.

I've been feeling a need for music in my life, and not the kind which comes out of a speaker. As a side to my current interest in Morris dance, I've dragged out a recorder and my harmonica and have been picking away at "Shepherd's Hey" and "Tinner's Rabbit." Although that has satisfied my desire to make music, it hasn't done so fully, hence my project for the morning: tune the harpsichord. I settled in for the siege, but surprised myself by having it done in about an hour. Now, where's Haydn hidin'?