Pianissimo con sordino 

Denis Wick describes his frustration with metal mutes at very low dynamics and how design ideas for his own wooden mute came from German opera houses, violin making and a wonder glue recommended by a local boat builder.

It must be difficult for the younger played of today to realise how different and unsophisticated things were 45 years ago. It must have been in about 1960 or 1961, on one of those German tours with the London Symphony Orchestra, when we arrived at Hamburg to play a concert at the Opera House. We were introduced to Ernst Engemann, the orchestral porter, pit manager and general backstage factotum. Every orchestra has one: such a person is more important to the smooth running of a complicated organisation like a symphony or opera orchestra than any outsider could possibly imagine. Ernst was more than any of these things. He was also a mute-maker, a welcome sight at a time when available mutes in the UK were either too small, with poor low notes and/or extreme sharpness of pitch or dull in sound: not much use in loud playing. He proudly told us that he had supplied the brass sections of all the great German orchestras.

He mutes were all hand-made out of thin plywood with a base of rather primitive plastic. We all duly bought them in their various sizes and were pleased with the results.

Keeping up with the composers

Since those early days in my career, events have moved on. I first designed my metal trombone mute out of sheer desperation. Even by 1968, although there were metal mutes available, they were either too small (as in 1960!) or so wide as to be unmanageable by normal hand sizes. Working on what was known as the Goldilocks principle, I eventually made a metal straight mute that could be handled easily and which played all the notes. The Rite of Spring became a joy rather than a health hazard! At last I could play easily all those low and awkward (usually solo!) muted notes that kept cropping up in film music and contemporary music - what was know irreverently as "squeaky gate".

Old Ernst's wooden mutes also continued to work well for very soft playing, when muted did really mean very quiet. Although one of the set got itself squashed under a moving grand piano, we still used them. So although I was naturally pleased that I managed to solve what had been a continuing problem in making my metal mute, I still had a hankering after the old wooden ones.

It is, of course, perfectly possible to play very softly with metal mutes, but the result often sounds like very soft unmuted playing, especially on the trumpet and cornet. What was needed was a straight mute that would sound really muted at the softest dynamic, and which would respond to the tiniest lip vibration, so that the very special soft but clear muted effects could be made easily. There were two problems. Working in wood is rather different from the well-understood systems of metal spinning that we have used for the last 30 years. It was also very labour intensive, so that making high quality wooden mutes that could be sold at a sensible price presented yet another challenge.

Practice makes perfect

I found a sympathetic timber merchant who had secret aspirations to be a violin maker - the holy grail of woodworking. He, of course, knew the answers to my questions almost before I asked them: steaming plywood, bending (and splitting!) plywood, finding the best varnish, discovering (from a local boat builder) an incredible Norwegian glue, working out a trepanning system for the bases, finding the best material for the base-plate resonance. There were weeks of setbacks but slow, steady progress. After many experiments we came up with what seemed like a perfect solution. We had perfect tuning and what turned out to be an even better, clearer, pianissimo than old Ernst's mutes.

We made a double skin, using vulcanized fibre as an inner lining and extremely thin plywood. Both the plywood and the fibre can be cut easily, but together bonded with our wonderful Norwegian glue, they are as strong as aluminium and even lighter. Metal ferrules were added to give additional strength.

Using our special system of clamping and a well-organised production routine, we can now produce in reasonable quantity at sensible prices. For me, that niggling wish to make the perfect wooden mute seems to have been fulfilled.

Acoustic feedback

I have always found that my professional colleagues were the hardest to please with my mouthpieces and mutes. If there was a problem, they would find I! It I could please them, the rest was easy. Now I have retired from playing, one of my few remaining musical activities is coaching the trombones and sometimes all the brass of the Gustav Mahler Youth Orchestra, by common consent one of the finest young orchestras ever. (Youth is a comparative term-the average age seems to be about 23 and the players are the best that the music conservatoires of Europe can offer.) I am the only English-man involved on the staff: my colleagues are mainly past or present members of the Berlin and Vienna Philharmonic Orchestras.

The German and Austrian brass players much prefer wooden mutes - it is part of a cherished tradition - so I was mightily pleased when the trumpet and horn professors from Berlin expressed their unreserved approval. The French horn mute with its carefully worked out tuning device was described as the best ever, with a suggestion that the Berlin Philharmonic would order eight!

So there you have it. Now that most young brass players have a degree of sophistication that was undreamed of even by the best professionals in 1960, I hope that they will enjoy this touch of central European brass culture, with perfectly muted pianissimos.

The range has recently been extended and consists of Eb Trumpet/Soprano cornet, Trumpet/Cornet, Flugel Horn, Trombone, Bass Trombone, Tenor Horn, Baritone, French Horn, Euphonium, EEb Tuba and BBb Tuba.