I wanted to see a reed in motion. To that end I made a hole at the bottom of a plastic bottle and introduced a bassoon reed through it. I sealed the hole around the bottom of the reed to avoid leaking and blew in the bottle. I saw the reed vibrating and I saw that what actually vibrates in a reed is its very tip. The vibrating corpus of an oboe is, actually, the tip of the reed. The rest of the reed and the staple carry the mechanical waves produced by the vibration of the tip all the way down through the cane and the staple to the oboe, its wood, its very substance. The most common setting for oboe reeds in Europe today, uses two staples. In this setting mechanical waves must cross many surfaces before they reach the body of the instrument: from cane – to metal – to thread – to metal – to a whole bunch of thread – to wood. I leave aside the theory of the vibration of a reed putting in motion the air inside of the instrument as the origin of its sound for the traditional acousticians (Arthur H. Benade & Co.) because that theory says little about the shape and materials of an instrument, and we know how important shapes and materials are.
As I think of those waves traveling from the tip of the reed all along the cane until getting refracted into the staple, it becomes clear to me how important the density of the cane is, as well as the thickness of the blades, their form, and how smooth or not smooth their surfaces are. But not just the reed, also the staple: what kind of metal is it made of, how long is it, how thick, its conicity. And even the thread, with its dampening effect: the more thread, the more dampening. Then, once those waves have reached the oboe, how the shapes in the oboe affect their propagation. But for now, I'll stay with the reed.
You might think that I'm talking nonsense if you always have thought about how reeds work following the theory of the traditional acoustics. To help you change your mind, I'll tell you about a little experiment of mine. In the next picture I've drawn an especial cut I made to some bassoon, clarinet and saxophone reeds. The bottom of the reed is usually cut in a straight angle to the blade. I turned that angle of 90 degrees into one of 45.
The result was always the same: the sound became much brighter, the articulation much clearer and the blow pressure needed was much less. And the matter is that according to the traditional acoustics, such a cut in such a place should have no effect at all in how the reed reacts or sounds. But it does have effects, and big ones. That is so because mechanical waves, coming down the reed, if its end is cut at 90 degrees will be mostly reflected back when encountering that surface, staying longer in the reed. Instead, when that surface is cut to 45 degrees most of the waves get directly refracted into the crook or bocal of the bassoon or the mouthpiece of the saxophone or clarinet.
Back to oboe reeds, it is said that we do not know how oboe reeds were before the 18th-century. But Nora Post, an American oboe player (you can find her at www.norapost.com), published in 1982 in The Galpin Society Journal an article about the reeds for the oboe in the 17th-century:
"PLAYING CHARACTERISTICS OF THE DIDEROT AND OTHER SHORT-STAPLED REEDS
The playing qualities of these reeds are far superior to, and easily distinguished from, those of the long-stapled reed. Above all, the Diderot reed does not squeak, one of the most annoying problems associated with the long-stapled reed. Expressivity no longer need be tempered by the terror of squeak. The Diderot reed also has a wider dynamic range, and its disarmingly soft low register is particularly impressive. The tone quality is generally more robust, if sometimes less focused, than that of the long-stapled reed. The Diderot as well as other short-stapled reeds also solve another frustration encountered when one uses the long-stapled reed. I have often wondered why so many baroque oboes have an identical defect, i.e. an unreliable middle D, D# and E; in fact, there are original instruments on which these notes will not respond at all when played with this reed. It is inconceivable that instrument-makers throughout Europe all made exactly the same mistake, especially one of such magnitude. Far more likely the long-stapled reed is the culprit, a contention supported by the fact that the reeds I have described play these notes securely, with no risk of squeaks."
Nora Post, in "The 17th-Century Oboe Reed"
Unfortunately I've not heard that particularly impressive and disarmingly soft low register: I've seen no one playing with a Diderot reed. But the more robust tone quality, if sometimes less focused than playing with other kinds of bridge, I do have heard from my viola set up with a Stradivari model of bridge. Though I would rather say a much wider sound instead than less focused. Why do I speak now in this reeds page about my viola? Because the Stradivari models of bridge and the Diderot reed have something in common: they let waves reach the instrument by the most direct, the shortest way, conserving so as much of their intensity as possible at their arrival to the body of the oboe. Remember the five surfaces that waves must get refracted into in the two-staples setting before they reach the oboe? With the Diderot reed it is only two or maybe three: cane – to one layer of thread – to wood. There could also be a – to metal – somewhere, but I've understood that it is absolutely possible to make a Diderot reed with no staple at all.
This is a rough sketch of a baroque reed I once got from Matthew Peaceman, an American oboe player who unfortunately already passed away at a too young age. He was the one who let me know about Nora Post's research about old oboe reeds.
Some may argue that this is an American modern oboe reed, because of the windows of the scrape. Well, I disagree. First of all because I believe Mr. Peaceman did not mean to fool me. And then I believe it is far too wide to be a modern reed if we take its proportions for real. And we would be missing the cork cilinder around the staple beneath the reed. Instead, due to its proportions it looks very much to me as one of the reeds Nora Post talks about in her 17th-century oboe reeds article. I'd rather say that the shape of the scrape of the modern american reed may come from this old reeds.
Thinking of the waves coming down the cane from the vibration of the tip of the reed, I find the scrape of this reed very interesting. I've marked two areas on the sketch. Next to it there are two drawings, an aproximation of the shape the scrape there could have. Don't take my drawings too literally, take just the idea because that is exactly what these angles and thicknesses are, I still didn’t find anybody willing to try making these reeds.