In the low rolling hills just north of Paris, close by the forest of Ecousen with its dense stands of beech and oak trees, lies the pleasant town of Ezanville. It is a peaceful community of about seven or eight thousand inhabitants. A ten minute walk from the railway station up the Avenue de Verdun, brings one to the Rue du Progrès, a short quiet street which connects with the Avenue du General de Gaulle. The names of these three thoroughfares could all be considered to have some significance in the life of Albert Glotin, who, from his office, which he explains with delight, was once the site of the kitchen in the family home at 15 Rue de Progrès, now directs the extensive Glotin cane and accessories enterprise. "Verdun" with its World War I overtones, affected Glotin's early life, and if the name de Gaulle makes us think of World War II which was about the time that Glotin seriously entered the cane business, it is certainly the "Street of Progress" that most clearly points to the direction he has taken.

In August of 1980, when double reed players, oboe and bassoon enthusiasts, instrument manufacturers and cane and supply people from about fifteen countries gathered together for the International Double Reed Convention in Edinburgh, they arrived by commercial airlines, railway and automobile. Monsieur Glotin, however, flew in, piloting his own Mooney (made in Texas) plane, for the 3 1/2 hour trip from the north coast of France, bringing with him for display, piles of smartly designed posters, brochures and plastic tote bags, emblazoned with Glotin insignias. These rather slick symbols of modern business organization could lead one to wonder what type of quality and standards were being maintained in an occupation which traditionally has been the domain of the small-time artisan working on a modest scale. It was therefore with great interest and a certain amount of curiosity that a few weeks later, I accepted Monsieur Glotin's invitation to visit Ezanville.

A neatly printed Glotin map in two-tone lavender, gives instructions for reaching Ezanville either via the Autoroute or by the train. I left from the Gare du Nord for the approximately twenty minute train trip. After arriving at the local station, I followed my map, walking up the Rue de la Gare and the Avenue de Verdun, until I came to the point on the Rue du Progrès indicated by a big purple dot on the plan. I found myself standing before what appeared to be the modest facade of a typical French gray cement-block suburban villa. I entered through the front link metal gate and walked on a gravel path across a tiny yard with a flower garden and up the several steps leading to the main entrance. After passing through the small hallway and the front offices, it soon became apparent that I was entering no ordinary home, but rather a well-organized and efficient world of cane.

While talking in the office that used to be the kitchen, while touring through the many rooms of the establishment and over a savory lunch at the nearby "Bonne Auberge," I learned quite a lot about Albert Glotin. A life, certainly not without its difficulties, but all of its vicissitudes recounted with good cheer and enthusiasm, giving the total impression that here was the French version of a "self-made man," his present success due to his own energy and continuing hard work.

Albert Glotin was born in October 1919 at 146 Rue Ordoner in Paris XVIII, the district which clings to the back of the hill of Montmartre. Glotin was delighted to learn that this was the very area in which I happened to be staying, and I could tell him that the streets near the town hall on the Place Jules Joffrin were still alive with outdoor fruit and vegetable vendors and cafe's, preserving much of the old-time neighborhood atmosphere of Paris. Young Albert did not, however, remain for very long in Paris. When he was only one year old, his father died as a result of injuries received in the war of 1914 -18. His mother then decided to move out to Ezanville where they had bought a piece of property. In 1925 Madame Glotin built the simple but solid house which still forms the center of Glotin's place of business. At the time the home at 15 Rue du Progrès was first established, Ezanville was a village of only 700 inhabitants, and behind the house there was a fairly large vegetable garden and ten beehives. Monsieur Glotin spoke with regret of the beehives which had to give way to his expanding affairs when more work rooms were added on to the back of the house. "I love bees!" he exclaimed. In 1926 when Glotin was seven years old, his mother had placed high on the front of the house, just below a small window tucked under the overhanging tile trim, a porcelain plaque decorated with a spray of flowers in the corner, and in the middle, the name "ALBERT" in large block letters. He points to it today with affection, and one senses the devotion that he, as an only child felt for his mother who was already 42 years old when he was born and was widowed so shortly afterward.

Albert's youthful years were all spent in the village of Ezanville and it was there that he began his first musical studies on the violin. A problem of pain in his finger tips forced him to give up this instrument and he changed to the oboe. His progress was such that he later went to Paris where he studied from eight to ten years with Bleuzet and with Lamorlette, both pupils of the great Georges Gillet. At the same time, practical considerations forced him to begin work at age thirteen as an apprentice to a machinist who made large metal barrels for gasoline. He showed such aptitude for all types of machinery that he soon became a tool adjuster and was working with the heavy presses. Albert was growing up during the depression years when just to earn any kind of a living was a problem. At age eighteen he went into an army band and then also later in order to, as he said, "gagner la vie," he played alto saxophone and clarinet and led a jazz band.

It was about the year 1943 that Roland Lamorlette was complaining about the impossible cane situation and thought of Glotin's facility with tools. Lamorlette asked Glotin if he could make a gouging machine. Glotin made a machine, worked out and refined details of dimensions together with Lamorlette and was soon preparing cane for the two of them. As he recounts it, shortly afterward he met another oboist friend, Gaston Longatte, who said, "Can't you make some cane for me?" So he did. First a dozen, then fifty, and gradually he started providing cane for everyone. Before long, he had to redo the first machine and construct others. Then came the end of World War II and Glotin had to think of a way to support his wife and children. His cane was beginning to meet with approval by oboists in many places, including the United States, and soon he was working as much as twenty hours a day to fulfill the demand. Colleagues told him to move his growing business into Paris and be in the center of woodwind activity, but he preferred to stay out in the better air of Ezanville and adapt the house to the expanding operations. Construction was undertaken as necessary until there are now about 1200 square meters of working space. One room is reserved for packaging and is stacked high with boxes and packing materials. Then there is a large shop containing the heavy machinery and lathes on which the smaller tools actually used in the cane preparation are made. A basement storeroom holds huge heavy burlap gunny sacks filled with all sizes of cane for oboe, clarinet, bassoon and saxophone. As he showed me through the various areas of his establishment, Monsieur Glotin explained that he was waiting for a shipment of 30 to 50 sacks of cane - about a ton. In his own words, "I use about 3 1/2 to 4 tons of cane a year, but from that I discard about 2 1/2 to 3 tons - an enormous amount of waste - but what is left is good quality of cane and good dimensions. Yes, I believe the best cane comes from Fréjus - it is still basically a mystery - but there is this micro-climate, just that small area which combines all the right elements in balance . . . the soil and the light rainfall. There is a lot of bauxite in the ground and then the cane must not come from too close to the sea because of the salt. "

Glotin personally supervises every state of work which goes into his products. No change of dimension, shape or gouge is undertaken without his approval. The process used in the preparation of oboe cane has been modified to move with a certain rapidity, and yet at no step of the way is hand control totally lost. One girl operates a small circular electric saw which cuts the tubes of cane to the correct length while still dry before they are split in three. Then they move to another employee who pushes them through a splitter. After that the cane is soaked for about three hours before going to the gouger. In the gouging process itself, each piece is placed by hand into the machine, and the shavings are constantly removed by hand. The only concession to mechanization, is a foot-pedal activating the guide-block which holds the blade, thus making it unnecessary to use much strength for pushing. The women who do all these various operations change around several times during the day in order to break the monotony of continuing one step of preparation for too long a time. In the shaping of cane, each piece is placed by hand on a type of shaper which has an apparatus which removes the excess sides of the cane with one single cut. Glotin recognizes that good results in cane and reeds depend on the eye and the individual touch, and that there is a limit to the extent that one can mechanize and still maintain quality. He says, "We could go much faster and into more mass production, but we try to hold the line and keep high standards."

While admitting the necessity of keeping the human touch in the actual reed work, (Glotin ties and tries many reeds himself), he has at the same time taken full advantage of modern methods for distribution and paper work. A few-steps down from his own office, he showed me a smaller room containing a Burroughs computer and the files of all his international clients with their address labels and records. In still another basement area, there is a Xerox machine and duplicators for making his own price lists. He furnishes materials to about 48 countries of the world and believes that he is only one to sell all types of reeds; for baroque instruments, for oboe, clarinet, saxophone and bassoon. Cane suppliers have usually specialized in reeds for only one or two of the woodwind instruments. Of his more than thirty employees, men and women, some have been with him long enough to receive the official medal the French government gives to a person who has worked for thirty years for the same employer.

When I left Ezanville, my Glotin canvas tote bag swinging on my arm as a permanent souvenir of my visit, I felt I had met someone who has managed to cope with the delicate problem of combining an essentially painstaking craft with 20th century methods, and who has in the process of creating a busy and even bustling life well filled with cane shavings, kept intact all of his Gallic verve and exuberance.

Table of Contents