Hi Markmor
I think this is pretty easily explained. Back in the first-half 19th century, pitch started low (old English low pitch, around or even below 430Hz) but suddenly went nuts high (Philharmonic pitch, 452-455Hz). Midcentury, reason tried to prevail (School of Arts pitch, A 445), but it wasn’t till near the end of the century it finally got sorted at 439Hz, later shoehorned up to A440 on the basis that 439 was a prime number and therefore difficult to deal with electronically! It’s a long tale of woe!
Makers back in the first half 19 century therefore had customers wanting to play anywhere between about 430 and 455, plus a bit on either side to allow for sharp and flat embouchures. They “sort of” got around the issue by having really long tuning slides (every Hz requires a mm, so they needed around 35mm of useable adjustment. And our 440Hz required being around 25 mm (an inch) open.
A further complication is that the makers tended to leave the scaling of the body on the older pitch side (430Hz or even lower). It’s often said that makers were inately conservative. So the flutes played sedately but more in tune with the slide out for low pitch, but played more enthusiastically with the slide in for high pitch, although with awful tuning. Lovely, lads!
Fast forward to the nineteen sixties or so and we see the fast uptake of these old flutes by Irish players. And them having to deal with that challenge. Well, they found a way. It involved setting the A or G to be in tune with the box or piano, and then finding the low notes really quite flat, sometimes extraordinarily, even unbelievably flat. But they found if they forced most of the energy into the second harmonic of those flat notes, it still “sounded like” the bottom octave, but was in good tune (This is sometimes referred to as the “missing fundamental illusion”). On the flute, this trick involves offsetting the jet to the player’s side of the far edge of the embouchure hole, rather than aiming directly at the far edge. It shouldn’t be confused with “lipping up”, it’s a different trick altogether.
Now, when we modern makers came along, from around the mid seventies, we tended to fall into two different groups. Let’s call them the traditionalists and the scientists (quick, somebody come up with better names!). Michael was a “traditionalist”, and made his flutes along traditional lines. He could play them in tune, and his ardent supporters could play them in tune. And get the powerful “hard D” that the offsetting trick can supply.
We “scientists” were not the least attracted to the idea of having to learn to cope with what we regarded as an archaic deficiency, and re-engineered our flutes to correct the problems. Our supporters enjoy the easy-playing aspects of our flutes.
So who is correct - the scientists or the traditionalists? Both of us, but it really means you need to work out what you are (or want to be) and find a maker from that school of making. Or learn the trick!
If you want to learn the trick, you might find this a good start. It works with both schools of flute, but can be pushed harder for the traditionalist school to overcome the flat bottom notes. http://www.mcgee-flutes.com/Getting_the_hard_dark_tone.htm
The good news is that if you don’t feel up to learning the trick, you can sell Michael’s flutes for more than enough money to get a flute from a good scientific school maker. I’ve made flutes for a number of Michael’s dissappointed customers, and he would have made flutes for a number of my former customers who were up for the extra work needed to play his.
The bad news is that we makers don’t tend to advertise whether we are traditionalists or scientists. Indeed, I’m not sure that traditionalist makers and players would even recognise they are using “the trick”. It’s just how they play. We scientists (and our happy customers) sure know, because when we play those flutes they are appallingly flat!
Isn’t this an amazing story. And all in our lifetimes. Ahem. Well, in some of our lifetimes…