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Roper Piano Studio: Franz Metronome Calibration

Before proceding, please observe these important CAVEATS. We don't want to be held responsible for your experimentation; if you have ANY doubts about your mechanical ability or are not sure about working with live 110 VAC electrical circuits, do not open your metronome! According to the Franz webpage article about servicing, these old mechanical models are no longer supported. So you're on your own. Those who are not adventuresome are advised to seek a proper repair person, perhaps at a musical instrument dealer. Otherwise, be ready to buy a new one!
Now, back to the show... Defunct antique Regina Roper has several metronomes, her oldest being an American made copy of an original Maelzel-Hanson design that dates from the 1890s, acquired by her grandfather a few years later in the first decade of the 20th century (similar to this picture.) It no longer works reliably, and hasn't been used by Regina in decades. For the past thirty years, she's relied on a Franz Metronome (LM-FB series) that is very similar in design to the original electric metronome introduced by the Franz Corporation in 1938. (For an interesting series of articles about metronomes, see Metronome Techniques on the Franz website .) However, since acquiring her electronic keyboards and synthesizers, Regina has usually relied on their digital metronomes for highest accuracy. (Note: if your browser has the right version of Java and Shockwave installed, you might be interested in trying the Metronome On Line .) Recently, however, a student was playing our Yamaha grand, and the Yamaha Clavinova was turned off. For the first time in at least a year, Regina flipped on the Franz to set a tempo for the student, but was given a ridiculous fast pace, at least twice the front panel rating, which she and the student immediately resisted. After the lesson, Regina found that the entire range of the front panel tempo control was completely out of whack, and the old device soon found itself sitting forlorn in the bottom of the studio wastebasket, where the present writer found it. "Why in heaven's name are you throwing this away?" "Oh, that old thing...it's useless. I've had it for so many years that I guess it's finally failed. Perhaps that last straw was when the cat knocked it on the floor." The Culprit? Never one to resist a challenge, this writer retrieved the gadget and put it on his garage workbench. One thing and another intervened, and some months later a decision had to be made: either FIX IT or put it back in the trash! One assumed that this was a "relaxation oscillator" model, using a simple electrical circuit consisting of a variable resistor, capacitor, and neon light bulb. We'd made devices like this as a kid experimenting with rudimentary electronics. Why, it should be simple to open it up, tweak something -- perhaps an adjustment potentiometer, or a

slip adjustment of a shaft -- and get it back in proper range again. WRONG! Two hours later, we had the metronome working properly. What confronted us first was how to open the blasted thing. It consists of a small wooden box with solid top, bottom, and sides, with two thin metal plates tacked on, forming the front and back panels. On the front there is a tempo knob; on the top a small light fixture containing an orange neon bulb; on the back a couple of protruding screws and a power switch. Our first attempt to dismantle it resulted in a catastrophe. Expecting just some electrical parts, we instead discovered an intricate mechanical structure which fell all to pieces when we pried off the back plate. SPROING! CLUNK! Rattle-rattle-rattle. Small bits that were too tiny to see with our myopic eyes skittered across the table top, some onto the floor...No, apparently that's not the way to open it! Inside was a marvel of "early" technology of the pre-electronic era. It was mostly mechanical, not the oscillator circuit we had supposed. We were amazed at the clever design and construction, illustrating a remarkable wizardry and imagination. A small electrical motor is the heart of the gadget, but it's a sort of "inside out" kind of motor, consisting of a toroidal induction coil, with an overhanging metal armature that rotates when the electrical current is turned on. The tip of this armature is a peaked point of metal at the center of the shaft, whose outside diameter varies from about 3/8" inch to a millimeter at the tip. A rubber idler wheel, attached to a bakelite holder, is pressed against this diminishing-diameter shaft: depending on where the idler touches the shaft, the speed of rotation of the idler is varied. The bakelite holder bar has a gear assembly which mates with a three-pronged "escapement" mechanism that is fixed to a small clamp around the center of the shaft connected to the front-panel tempo knob. The tempo is set by pointing this knob to a number, which rotates the bakelite holder allowing the idler to move up or down on the motor shaft. As the idler wheel turns, a small cam assembly opens and closes a switch; this causes a magnetic knocker arm to strike the inside of the cabinet, producing a sharp "clack". At the same time, current is turned on momentarily and sent to the neon bulb to produce a short visual display indicating the tempo pulse. A wonder! "How the heck do they calibrate this?" was the author's query. But before he could figure that out, the darned thing had to be put back together again: "reverse engineered", as it were, since it was now in pieces on the bench. We had never seen the gadget before, and had no real idea how it fitted together again. That is why it took us two hours to finish the job! Perhaps a mechanical engineer would have had little difficulty; but we were an electronic engineer who had only dabbled in mechanical devices from time to time, as needed, while fixing electrical circuits in broadcasting machinery. It took us back to our childhood, when mechanical gadgets like this metronome were the norm, since electronic technology was still in a relatively rudimentary stage of development (no transistors; no ICs; no computers smaller than a warehouse!) At last we got the idler wheel to engage properly the motor armature shaft, and to rotate smoothly as the bakelite holder was twisted by the front panel tempo knob. But we found that hard going, since we had "entered" the

metronome by means of the back metal panel. To reassemble it again caused the works to disappear and be inaccessible to human hands. How to adjust it? There MUST be another way to get into this infernal beast! And there is: but one has to be a little brutal with it. At last we found that if we stripped off the felt pads on the wooden bottom, four screw holes emerged that held wood screws that affixed the bottom wooden plate. With that taken off, the interior works were accessible, with all gears and shafts in place, so that we could tinker with the speed adjustment. But then a problem immediately arose. The device is stable ONLY in the upright position. But you have to work on it from the BOTTOM. If you turn it on its side or back, the "clacks" go all haywire in speed and regularity. "HOW DO THEY DO IT at the factory?" we wondered. We finally rigged a clumsy shelf that allowed us to prop the thing in a rickety fashion slightly above our head; bending over and peering upward, we could fuss and tweak the mechanics while getting steady (but entirely wrong) tempo indications. In fact, when measured against an electronic clock with crisply-advancing second hand, we determined that the tempo was not quite TWICE the indicated speed. It turns out that the "escapement" had slipped, probably when the cat knocked the metronome on the floor; the shock must have caused the front panel speed knob shaft to dislodge, moving the gear off the proper "tine". Soon we managed to get it in range again (well, not SOON. Each adjustment required some disassembly, with parts falling out again!) until the speed was nearly correct. Drawing (from memory) of bottom of Franz Metronome, showing works.

Apologies for the crudeness and (slight) inaccuracy of the drawing above. It was made from memory the day after repairs and calibration were completed; we were NOT anxious to take the gadget apart again, and spend an hour getting all the fittings back in place. This is fairly close to what it really looks like inside! For better pictures, taken with a digital camera by James Kass, see below.

The final adjustment calibration that got us properly on speed was made by slightly loosening two of the screws on the tempo knob clamp. The outer screws (marked "shaft tension") can be set as follows: leave one tight; loosen the opposite one slightly. Rotate the tempo knob to the desired speed (we used 60 bpm for convenience, to agree with the second hand of our clock.) Using a piece of tape, fasten the knob to the front panel so that it does not move. Then loosen the center screw -- "Shaft compress calibrate adjust" -- and very carefully rotate the clamp, keeping it pressed near the front panel so that it does not go out of contact with the gear assembly. At some point the clacks will probably agree with the clock speed, though you may never get it precisely on time (see this page on the Franz website for the allowed variations.) Then carefully tighten the center screw, making sure not to shift or rotate the clamp. You may have to try this a few times until you get it right. Oh, yes...don't forget to glue some more felt back on the bottom, covering the screw holes. You don't want to risk scratching your piano!

A marvelous, fun project, and complete success! An old mechanical marvel restored to full functionality -- it will probably work and last a hundred years (or at least until the neon bulb goes flat.)
In late 2004 we were delighted to receive this letter from Valerie Coates , a singer and teacher who had the same model of metronome, also wrecked by a cat! Our article was, as she explains, the source of enough information that repairs could be achieved. Thanks, Valerie, for not only your nice letter but also for permission to quote it on this web page:
Dear Ms. Roper, I want to send a note of thanks to Mr. Waldee for his detailed Franz metronome repair instructions. It so happens that I have the same model metronome and also had it knocked to the floor by a cat! I had tried to take it apart and fix it myself, had the exact same obstacles mentioned in the article and eventually gave up. I saw that the Franz company is no longer repairing the old dinosaurs and was planning to throw it out. Thanks to Mr. Waldee, I was able to fix it in under an hour myself! Your website looks really interesting and I'm planning to go back and look at it more thoroughly. I'm a classical singer and voice teacher in New York city and I'm also involved with teaching Suzuki students even though I'm not a certified Suzuki teacher. I teach a chorus/voice class as part of the Suzuki instrumental program at Brooklyn College Prep. Many thanks! All the best, Valerie Coates

Another letter was received in late January 2009, from James Kass , well known trumpeter and composer (whose website is JamesKass.com.) He has used a Franz metronome since he was a teenager, but his unit has some kind of intermittent bearing noise, varying with the position it is tilted. We haven't a clue about the cause or solution but if we have to take OURS apart some day, perhaps we can experiment. It might be easier for us to do that, now that James has so very kindly supplied some digital snapshots. With his permission we are including these in our article. You may click the following links to see the full-sized pictures; thanks, Mr. Kass!

No. 1

No. 2

No. 3

No. 4

No. 5

No. 6

No. 7.

We happen to be a retired electrical and electronic technician, who spent more than a quarter century working with high voltage radio transmitters and dangerous antenna systems. As such, the inside of a small plug-in gadget that connects to 110 VAC house current does not dismay or frighten us. Anyone who is used to working safely and carefully on mains-operated equipment can probably work on the metronome without getting a dangerous, life-threatening electrical shock. Here is a pretty informative webpage by an old-time-radio buff who provides much useful information about electrical safety and responsibility when working with old gear. Not everything applies to the Franz metronome described above, but some of it is relevant. The Franz device was designed long before modern electrical safety standards, though it is safe enough in normal use! There is no ground to the electrical mains; all metal parts operating the works are isolated from the power line: the only actual electrical connections from the power cord are to the AC switch, idler wheel interruptor switch, the motor coil, and the neon bulb. Avoid those connections while the AC is plugged in. Work carefully, and preferably with one hand in your pocket to prevent current from flowing through your body! If you are not experienced with this kind of work, FORGET IT. Buy a new metronome! And don't blame us if something goes wrong. There are no more parts for these gadgets; Franz has made that clear on their website. They won't service them anymore. We offer this page for gadgeteers and experimenters -- like the author -- who don't relish throwing away a marvelous old machine that represents imaginative obsolete technology. If you do not want to risk anything, just save your non-functioning metronome as a keepsake.

Click here for Pedagogy Article No. 1 or No. 3, No. 4, No. 5, No. 6. Press BACK key to return, or click here for Roper Piano Studio Home Page. Copyright (c) 2003-11 Regina L. Roper - All Rights Reserved. All trademarks or copyrights are property of their respective copyright holders. Last modified for web: 28 January 2009 at 11:19 am. Last edited for CD-Rom: Monday 20 June 2011 at 11:58 pm.
Excerpted from Roper Piano Studio: Franz Metronome Calibration http://freescruz.com/~4cygni/regina-r/metronome.htm

READABILITY An Arc90 Laboratory Experiment http://lab.arc90.com/experiments/readability

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