Article
Brod fingering charts: Left side
| Right side | Doigters
particuliers
About the Author
End Notes
In the last ten or so years we have heard wonderful sounds and interpretations from players of the early 19th century fortepiano. Very few double reed players, however, have experimented with their instruments from that time. Perhaps it is because there is much less solo and chamber music than is available from the 18th century. It also takes longer for double reed players to become accustomed to the different instruments. Whatever the reasons, I knew I had a long and solitary row to hoe when I recently acquired an early 19th century oboe stamped TRIÉBERT A PARIS, with a three-crenellated castle, on all three joints.
I assumed it to be a transitional instrument, that is, one which filled in the gap between the classical two-keyed oboe and the late 19th century oboe, which is essentially what has been in use up to the present. I assumed its tone would be capable of more volume than that of the classical oboe, on the way to projecting in ever larger concert halls. I further assumed that the key work would be mostly experimental, perhaps a bit awkward, but pointing to the near perfection said to have been achieved by the turn of the century. This article is about what I actually found.
I can present no new biographical information about the maker. Guillaume Triébert (b . 1770) was in the business of making mostly oboes (occasionally other woodwinds) from 1810 until his death in 1848. These years approximately coincide with the most rapid changes in the oboe in its history. Guillaume's son Charles was born the year after his father began his business. Charles was mostly a performer on the oboe, while his younger brother Frederic (b. 1813) continued his father's business until the 1870s.[1]
This oboe is made of boxwood, lightly stained. As on 18th century oboes, its bell has an incurved inner rim, and the third hole on the upper joint is double. All ten keys are of silver, mounted on posts and axles; rings, wells, sockets, and a narrow thumbrest are of silver as well. Springs are flat, of tempered steel, and are in general attached to the underside of the keys. The keys have round cups, slightly domed, and the joints are lapped with thread. Except for the restorations listed below, I can see no evidence of alteration from its original state.
The total length of the oboe, not counting reed or staple, is 56.5 cm., the same as some other Triéberts with nine and ten keys.[2] The minimum bore diameter, that is, the smallest width at the top of the bore, is 4.1 mm. This measurement is significant because it helps to
fix the dimensions of the staple and reed. By way of comparison, the minimum bores of most baroque oboes are in the 5.8-6.2 range (my measurements), those of classical oboes are in the 4.8-5.2 range (according to Mary Kirkpatrick, a maker of historical oboes), and that of my 14-year-old Loree is 4.05 mm. Other dimensions are more complicated to interpret in a comparative way, so I will not include those. For example, even the overall length must be considered in light of what the lowest note is, so that some later oboes, although higher in pitch are actually longer because a low Bb key has been added. In general, though, the bore of this Triébert is much closer to that of my Loree, made about 140 years later, than to the classical oboes made only about 30 years earlier. But to take this to mean that the Triébert plays more like a modern oboe would be a mistake, as will be seen.
I received this oboe in quite good condition, and few restorations were needed to make it play. Someone who had it before me - quite recently - put in fishskin pads, which cover fairly well. Mary Kirkpatrick has repaired a long crack in the upperjoint, secured the loose socket in the bell, and replaced the fishskin c" pad with a leather one.
This could be one of the earliest Triéberts with keys mounted on posts and axles, since there are Triéberts with similar key arrangements which use saddle mounts (an earlier design), as does the oboe illustrated in Brod's Méthode, first published about 1826.[3] If we could date the changeover from saddles to posts, we could date this oboe more precisely. None of the oboes by Guillaume that I have seen is stamped with a date or a serial number. (I have a later oboe, probably by Frederic, stamped:
with the serial number C56.)
In any case, I think it unlikely that relatively conservative makers of oboes would have used posts and axles before they came into common use on the flute, which had had generally more advanced key systems than the oboe since before the turn of the century. In 1812 an anonymous German writer concentrated on all the things that could go wrong with added keys on the oboe.[4] And of course August-Gustave Vogt, professor at the Paris Conservatory for over fifty years beginning in 1802, for a long time favored a oboe with only four keys.[5] The earliest mountings of keys on posts and axles that I know of are on a pair of glass flutes made in the first decade of the 19th century.[6] Given that Boehm began making flutes with posts and axles in 1828,[7] 1 would place the making of this oboe at about 1830 - perhaps in time for the first performance of Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique in December of that year. Note should be taken of a Triébert oboe in the Bate Collection, Oxford, dated about 1838.[8] It has a similar key arrangement, but with these later features: an octave key and rings over finger holes four and five. You can also see that the wood turnings and key castings are in exactly the same style, placing that oboe, I would say, within a decade of mine.
On my Triébert, the keys (illus. 1, a and b) for c' and eb, (used also for eb"), played with the right little finger, were carried over from the 18th century; they were the only keys in general use on oboes before the turn of the 19th century. The low b key, played with the left little finger, extends the range downward by a semitone. Brod shows the key in his chart (illus. 2), but does not give a fingering for b: rather, the fingering for c' is actually b, an obvious error. The other key which makes possible a new note is c#'. Although it works for c#" also, it was apparently not so used; Brod uses the old classical fingering (with c' key) for the upper note.
Illustration 2, Brod fingering charts: Left side | Right side | Doigters particuliers
The f# key makes possible an equaltempered f# in both octaves, which was less necessary before the turn of the century (the lower one was flat). Brod uses the new key for this lower octave only; for the upper, he gives the 18th century fingering, even though both work well in that octave. The old fingering was still the preferred one even in the 1850s![9]
The g# key is used interchangeably with the 18th century double hole for the third finger of the left hand, and both ways are good in either octave.
The keys for bb' and c" are used mainly on those pitches, while the upper bb" is usually obtained by means of the 18th century fingering, the c''' always. Note that the c" key in Brod's illustration appears on the right side. Triébert, too, made some oboes with this key on the right. Curiously, even after octave keys appeared consistently on oboes, making possible the use of these keys in the second octave, the old 18th century fingerings were still preferred.[10] At least I thought it was curious at first, until I realized that 19th century oboists simply desired more options than I would have thought. In fact most of the classical fingerings do work on this oboe, making the fingering options both more varied and different than those on oboes before or after.
Brod's chart seems to favor the classical f' and f" (forked), giving the fingering using the new f key second (his footnote says one can use either at will). I found myself using the key mainly in the lower octave. Approaching the instrument from the perspectives of both 18th and 20th century oboes, I would not have guessed this preference. In the 1850s the same two fingerings are given, but the order is reversed in the lower octave.
The left eb key, used as an alternative to the right one in both the first and second octaves, was optional during the late 20s and 30s, and appears consistently only after c1840. (The third key appearing on many baroque oboes is also for eb, but not for use as an alternative; rather it enables players to reverse the positions of the hands, that is, to play with the right hand uppermost instead of the left.)
Why did oboists in the early 19th century feel such a need to experiment with additional keys? A usual assumption is that keys helped provide more facility in difficult tonalities. Sometimes, perhaps, but the original players of Haydn's symphonies encountered many passages in tonalities supposedly difficult for the oboe, yet they preferred the two-keyed instrument. I found it difficult to accustom myself to the new bb and f# (especially) on the same level of fluency I had acquired on the two-keyed oboe. The left eb is helpful in tonalities with signatures of four or more sharps or flats, but as previously noted that key does not appear with any consistency on oboes of the time.
Sometimes added keys helped to clarify the tone of (otherwise) cross fingered notes, making for more evenness of tone throughout the scale. That evenness is certainly a goal of modern oboists - imagine a twelve-tone piece without it! It also seems clear that woodwind cross fingerings were more desirable in the 18th century; they helped reinforce the sense of tonalities sounding different from one another arising from unequal temperaments. With this Triébert I cannot make such a general statement regarding keys and clarity of tone, although some of the keys seem to have been added for this purpose. The keys which most obviously provide a clearer tone than their cross fingered counterparts are F, f# (also for intonation, as noted before), bb' and c". But if clarity was the main point, why were the cross fingered c" and upper f#" still preferred for years?
The g# key does facilitate some combinations of notes, and the tone is not appreciably different from uncovering the small hole. The left eb key sounds the same as the one on the right, and makes for a more even db,'-eb,, than could be done in the 18th century. Formerly that progression was obtained by using a completely open db which sounded like a cross fingering, or by sliding the right little finger between the two keys. If your favorite 18th century way was sliding, then the new left eb key makes for better facility; if you preferred using open db, then the new key made for greater clarity.
The addition of keys was concurrent with the above mentioned bore changes and also with the continuing rise in pitch. Those factors considered together suggest an aesthetic pursued by early 19th century oboists which differs from that of the late 18th century and also from that which had evolved by 1900.
There is a relation', between pitch level and tone which is important, especially to wind players. Quantz, writing about 80 years earlier, was aware of this:
It is undeniable that the high pitch is much more penetrating than the low one; on the other hand, it is much less pleasing, moving, and majestic... The very low French chamber pitch... is the most advantageous for the transverse flute, the oboe ... ... The very high pitch would finally make a cross-pipe again of the transverse flute, a
shawm of the oboe... [12]
With some rise in pitch towards the end of the 18th century, tone became not more shawm-like (the pitch difference was not great enough for that), but lighter and more "silvery."[13] W.T. Parke, writing favorably for this development, recalls an older generation of oboists, lead by Vincent and Simpson, "using the old [i.e., baroque] English oboe, an instrument which in shape and tone bore some resemblance to that yclept a post-horn."[14] By the generation of Brod and Guillaume Triébert, the pitch in France had risen only slightly more. Brod describes the sound of the French oboe as "sweet, mellow and flexible" and says the proper music for it is "graceful, singing and unlabored." He also notes the difficulty of achieving this.[15] Discussing the best woods of which an instrument can be made, he mentions ebony, grenadilla, cedar, and boxwood:
This last always offers the best results; it gives a superior quality of sound, either when the playing is sweet and mellow, or when it is with energy and brilliance. Cedar, however, is not at all to be scorned; it... gives a very sweet sound which is suitable for a small room.[16]
The reed is also very important to how the instrument sounds. I used the detailed reed making instructions in Brod[17] to arrive at appropriate staple and reed dimensions and a stylistic scrape. I found that the entire range of the instrument responds well with a staple 46mm. in length, 4.5-6mm. in diameter at the bottom, and 2.5mm. in diameter at the top. The reed to go with this extends about 24mm. beyond the top end of the staple, is slightly under 7mm. wide at the tip, and is scraped no more than 12mm. back from the tip. This yields a pitch level in the neighborhood of a' = 430-32 Hz (see illustration 3). In a section entitled "On the Sound and the Reed," Brod says,
Quality of sound depends on how a reed is made and particularly on the choice of cane...
The making of reeds is not at all the same in the different countries where the oboe is played. The Italians, the Germans, and in general nearly all foreigners make them louder (stronger) than we do; also they have a hard, dull sound which is unnatural to the instrument, and makes their performance so painful that it becomes tiring likewise for the listener. The quality of sound which has been attained in France is unquestionably the best, and is nearest that of the violin. The best oboe is made in Paris by Triébert, Rue Guenegaud No. 1.[16]
I found that producing a tone that was sweet, mellow, and flexible was completely natural for my Triébert, and Brod's comments on the oboe and reed were helpful in working towards it. In a recent demonstration performance at the Shrine to Music Museum in Vermillion, South Dakota, I found that the instrument went perfectly with a Broadwood piano there, made within a decade of the Triébert. It seems to me that the Triébert's tone is more delicate and less robust, but not brighter than the classical oboes I have played. The Triébert would work beautifully in the subtle solo and soli woodwind passages in Schubert and Berlioz, but it cannot modify and enhance a full orchestral texture, as oboes with horns do in classical symphonies.
The following comments by Berlioz, which had never made sense to me, became clear.
The oboe is above all a melodic instrument; it has a pastoral character, full of tenderness - I might even say, of shyness.
In the tutti of the orchestra the oboe is used, however, without consideration of its timbre; for here it is lost in the ensemble, and its peculiar expression cannot be identified.
Artless grace, pure innocence, mellow joy, the pain of a tender soul - all these the oboe can render admirably with its cantabile. A certain degree of excitement is also within its power; but one must guard against increasing it to the cry of passion, the stormy outburst of fury, menace or heroism; for then its small voice, sweet and somewhat tart at the same time, becomes ineffectual and completely grotesque. Even some of the great masters - Mozart among them - did not avoid this error entirely. In their scores we find passages whose passionate contents and martial accents contrast strangely with the sound of the oboes executing them... The theme of a march, however vigorous, beautiful and noble it may be, loses its nobility, vigor and beauty when played by oboes. [19]
If the Triébert does not do what the classical oboe does, it certainly does not do what the modern oboe does either; that is, it will not project a big sound in a very large hall, and it seems incapable of cutting through a fairly heavy orchestral texture as is expected of modern oboists. Berlioz's comments couldn't possibly apply to oboes of today.
How the particular combination of fingering options and delicate tone affects phrasing is much easier to demonstrate than to verbalize, but I believe one short example will give some idea of what the feel of the instrument suggests.
I play the first two f's using the key, but the third, on the fourth quaver value of the first bar, must be played forked, i.e. as a cross fingering, in order to slur to the d". By the 1850s, another f key (played with the left little finger) had become available to be used in place of the cross fingering, making possible identical tone on all three f's in this example.20 This would be considered desirable by most players of the modern oboe, who work hard for evenness of tone in such passages. On this Triébert a different, more muffled quality on the third f, on which you crescendo, makes you think of intensity in a different way. Similarly, if the c" in the second bar is performed with the cross fingering, it qualifies the following bb's differently than if all the notes sounded alike.
In conclusion, the nearly modern bore, the addition of keys, and the still-possible use of most classical oboe fingerings did not create an instrument which is clearly transitional in the sense of stairs to the Parnassus of modern playing. I believe it did create an instrument which went with the aesthetic ideas of perhaps a generation, and which is best regarded as serving those ideas as no other instrument can.
Endnotes...
This article is based on one read at the Annual Meeting of the American Musical Instrument Society (May, 1986) at the University of South Dakota, Vermillion, South Dakota.
Peter Hedrick is professor of music at Ithaca College, Ithaca, New York, where he teaches oboe and directs the Ithaca College Early Music Ensemble.
1. More biographical information is P. Bate, The Oboe, 3rd ed. (London, 1975), pp. 67-8.
2. c.f. P.T. Young, Tweny-five Hundred Historical Woodwind Instruments (New York, 1982), pp. 133-4.
3. H. Brod, Méthode pour le Hautbois (Paris, c 1826). See illus. 2 for his fingering chart and a drawing of an oboe with saddles.
4. In Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung (Leipzig, 9.1.1812), pp. 72-3.
6. Now in the Dayton C. Miller Flute Collection at the Library of Congress.
7. T. Boehm, The Flute and Flute-Playing (1871), 2nd Eng. ed., trans. D.C. Miller (Cleveland, 1922/ R1960), p. 7.
8. Photograph in P.T. Young, The Look of Music (Vancouver, 1980), p. 192.
9. Charles Triébert, Tabulature ou Hautbois a 15 Clefs (Paris, c1855).
12. J. J. Quantz, Versuch einer Anweisung die Flöte traversiere zu spielen (Berlin, 1752); Eng. trans. E.R. Reilly as On Playing the Flute (London, 1966), pp. 267-8.
13. [Joseph Francois] Garnier, Méthode Raisonnée Pour le Hautbois (Paris, c 1798), p. 9, my translation.
14. W.T. Parke, Musical Memoirs (London, 1830/R1970), pp. 334-5.
15. Brod, op cit, p. 1, my translation.
17. Brod, op cit, pp. 110-117; Eng. trans. in P. Hedrick, "Henri Brod on the Making of Oboe Reeds," Journal of the International Double Reed Society, vi (1978), pp. 7-12.
19. H. Berlioz, Granade traité d'instrumentation et d'orchestration modernes (Paris, 1844, 2/cl855); Eng. trans. T. Front as Treatise on Instrumentation, Enlarged and Revised by Richard Strauss (New York, 1948), p. 164.
20. See the catalog of Triébert et Cie (1855). Pages no, numbered. Engraved illustration shows instruments with all these options. This catalog con tains many interesting comments about oboes in the 1850s, among them this observation:
... anyone who has used the old instruments, can without difficulty adopt our new models which permit, at first, the use of the old fingerings while one becomes gradually familiar with the new.
