Friday, October 15, 2021

The lost art of accordion repair

Although I don't play the accordion, I guess you could say I have accordion in my blood. Somewhere, anyway.

My Grandpa Wolf played the accordion. I don't remember him at all: he died before I was two. And it may have been a concertina that he played, not an accordion. But both of my Wolf uncles - Bob and Jack - were full-blooded accordionists. 

Jack even had a country-swing-polka trio, Jake Wolf and the Midwesterners. This was in the early fifties, and Jack was in his early twenties. 

I never saw the group perform, but when we were in Chicago for our every-other-year trips, it was always a thrill when Jack and/or Bob took out their case and started running their fingers up and down the keyboard. (They both played piano accordions, not button accordions.)

What songs did they play? I don't remember. "Beer Barrel Polka"? "Pennsylvania Polka"? I do know that "Blue Skirt Waltz" (as popularized by Frankie Yankovic) was a family favorite. 

The only piece I actually remember either of them playing was "After You're Gone," played by Jack on the piano. (My mother's family was pretty musical. Everyone played at least one instrument. My mother played the violin and a bit of piano.)

I did hear quite of bit of accordion music growing up. My father couldn't stand Lawrence Welk, but we watched his show every week and were thus exposed to both Lawrence (a-one-and-a-two-and-a...) and the accordion meister Myron Floren. 

But I didn't know many kids who played the the accordion. The only one who comes to mind is Teddy B, an older kid on our street who went to Polish Catholic school, not our parish school, so it wasn't like we were big buddies or anything. His claim to fame was an appearance on Community Auditions. This was a weekly talent contest on Channel 4 which billed itself as "New England's showcase for talented amateurs." Teddy didn't win. Talented amateurs from Worcester never did. (Proof point: Teddy's sister Roberta also appeared on Community Auditions, twirling her baton. She didn't win, either.)

Anyway, my uncles Bob and Jack are both long gone. (They died young. Bob was 45, Jack in his early 50's.) And I don't give much thought to accordions.

Having spent a fair amount of time at sessions in Irish pubs, I have heard a fair amount of accordion music over the course of my adult life. (Those accordions would probably have been button, not piano accordions.)

But mostly, if I gave any thought to accordions, that thought would have been that accordions are currently played by old schoolers, Tex-Mex bands, Zydeco bands, and hipsters. And that, while not exactly a growth profession or avocation, accordion playing is still sort of a thing. (Mostly thanks to Tex-Mex and hipsters. They aren't making any more old schoolers, and we're dying off.)

It turns out that lack of accordionists is not the issue. The issue is that accordionists are facing a shortage of accordion repairers. 

There are a couple of repair shops out in Western Mass, but one focuses primarily on button accordions and concertinas. There's a fellow on the Cape who inherited his know-how from his father. Paul Tagliamonte, Jr. outlined the complexities of accordion repair for Boston Globe writer A.Z. Madonna, herself an accordion player who believes that she'll need to become an accordion repair adept for self preservation. Here's what repair entails:
There are three essentials to the art of accordion maintenance. First is the know-how; second is spare parts such as keys, reed valves (usually leather strips), and metal rods; and third is tools, though most of these can’t be found at your average hardware store. Tools like a set of bellows to test reeds without having to put the whole instrument back together again; a setup to melt wax at a low enough temperature to set reeds without burning them; maintenance and tuning tools that look like what a dentist might use to scrape plaque off someone’s teeth; even a tray that indexes bass buttons to make sure they go back onto the instrument the same way they came off. (Source: Boston Globe)
Yikes, even if I were going to consider taking up accordion repair in my great old age - which I most decidedly am not - just the gathering of the required equipment would have turned me away.

It's not just an American problem.

Castelfidardo, in Italy, is something of the capital of the accordion kingdom. They're having a hard time finding young folks who want to commit to the life of accordion repair. And a lot of their master technician have taken the tricks of their trade to the grave with them.

I don't want to see accordion music die out. 

Sure, it can be sappy - think "O Sole Mio" - but mostly it's lively. And, seriously, how can you not smile when you hear polka music. Or even the old accordion classic of my childhood, "Lady of Spain."

Sure, repairing an accordion is probably not as much fun or glamorous as playing the instrument, but I sure hope some folks take it up. 

And what I wouldn't give for a recording of Jake Wolf and the Midwesterners to suddenly appear...

1 comment:

Ellen said...

I can see and hear our uncles as I read this. I think Bob did “Lady of Spain.”