Narrator: With a single tap,
Mike Dadson can turn a faulty oboe
into one of the world's most expensive instruments.
Mike: And then hopefully at the end,
we should achieve a
bottle-tight joint.
Narrator: When he's done with it,
this oboe will cost almost $14,000.
That's more than four times the price
of a high-end professional flute.
We like to say you're only as good
as your last oboe, basically.
Very good.
Narrator: But before it reaches Mike's desk,
artisans select, age, and then whittle
rare African blackwood into an oboe base
just millimeters thick.
This nearly endangered wood is just one of the factors
limiting the production of quality oboes.
So, what makes an oboe so difficult to make?
And is that why they're so expensive?
For high-end-oboe producers like Howarth of London,
it takes five years to make an oboe from start to finish.
Oboes are one of the most complicated instruments to make,
and because they're prone to cracking,
high-end oboes have to be made of the best materials,
like this African blackwood.
Howarth buys only 2 square meters
of African blackwood a year,
which costs it $25,000.
And obtaining African blackwood —
locally called mpingo — isn't easy.
It's harvested from only the miombo woodlands of Africa
in countries like Tanzania.
And it's a threatened species and at risk of endangerment,
so loggers are only allowed to chop down trees
that are over 60 years old.
They must submit a request, acquire a permit,
and ultimately pay a fee of $151
per cubic meter they export.
The scarcity of African blackwood
looms large over the industry.
African blackwood isn't typically farmed.
It grows in the wild, so to combat overharvesting,
conservationists in Kilwa, Tanzania,
have gone to great lengths to ensure
these in-demand trees are managed sustainably.
Narrator: The most valuable part of a log is the heart,
which becomes the basis of the oboe.
The oboe is a complex woodwind
that supports extensive mechanical keywork.
It's subject to moisture generated by human breath,
making it prone to cracking when made with weaker woods.
But the same properties that allow African blackwood
to support the complexity of an oboe
are also what make it so difficult to work with.
The first step in construction is to shape the wood,
which requires metalworking equipment.
Artisans start by hollowing out
what will become the interior of the instrument.
Then they sculpt the exterior and refine the shape.
This process is carried out carefully
over a number of years
and with remarkable precision.
The fact that we can turn a piece of wood to within
two- or three-hundredths of a millimeter consistently
is just remarkable, really.
I mean, most engineering companies
are using those tolerances to work with metal.
Narrator: Between each round of shaping,
the wood is stored for at least a year to mature.
Aging the wood ensures it stays strong and doesn't crack.
During the day, we're blowing warm,
dry air over the stock,
and then at night, the compressors are turned off.
And so we're going from hot to cold, dry to damp.
So we're really treating that wood stock as badly as we can,
because we want it to move and change,
and if it's going to crack,
let's get it out of the system early
so we don't waste any time on it.
Narrator: But the wood isn't the only thing
that contributes to the overall price.
Once the basic shape of the oboe is complete,
artisans begin to create
the oboe's complex mechanical keywork.
After drilling the initial tone holes,
workers solder and file the keys to shape by hand.
The keys are dipped in silver for protection
and are then fitted to the oboe body.
Narrator: This step alone can take
up to 60 hours to complete.
According to Howarth,
the complexity of the keywork determines the price.
The more keys in the oboe, the more expensive it will be.
A clarinet has 17 keys typically,
whereas an oboe has almost double that
as a student model.
Narrator: And a professional oboe
can have as many as 45 keys.
Howarth has invested close to £1 million in machinery
to ensure each component is at the highest quality.
But Howarth says its biggest expense is the craftspeople.
The labor required to assemble the oboe
accounts for 60% to 80% of Howarth's costs,
and it takes years of training
to perfect the art of oboe-making.
Every artisan at Howarth boasts
at least 20 years of experience in the craft.
Among these artisans is Mike Dadson,
one of Howarth's finishers.
He's tasked with fine-tuning
the last few elements of the oboe.
One of his most important tasks
is fitting cork pads under the keys.
Mike sands down different-size corks
until they're paper thin.
This step is essential, because a single air leak
will render the oboe useless.
My engineering needs to be very good on these,
because I'll be fitting them to the thinness
of a very thin cigarette paper.
And then hopefully at the end,
we should achieve a
bottle-tight joint.
Narrator: While making an oboe, some of the keys
and metal parts will inevitably get slightly bent,
and it's Mike's job to fix them.
If an oboe has a single imperfection,
it can't be sold for top dollar.
Fixing bent keys is a test of patience.
Sometimes straightening out one key
can bend another piece elsewhere.
I've found the point where I perceive the bend to be,
so hopefully I'll just be able to ...
Narrator: Mike often takes over three days
to fine-tune an oboe.
But all this patient work pays off.
The oboe is now ready to be sold.
But with a five-year-long production time
and increasingly rare raw materials,
the number of oboes Howarth can make and sell is limited.
Its workshop produces only 800 oboes a year,
and of those, only 200 are professional-grade.
Limited production results in higher prices
and makes quality instruments hard to come by.
I can imagine there are less than 20,000 oboes
being sold each year.
I know that Yamaha make 20,000 flutes a month,
and that's just Yamaha.
So the difference in scale is absolutely enormous.
Narrator: Oboes are also regarded
as one of the most difficult instruments to master.
With such a steep learning curve,
there aren't enough oboe players to justify
production on a scale that would keep prices low.
But professional oboe players, like Emily Pailthorpe,
rely on the continued production
of this centuries-old instrument.
Emily: I think this is my fifth Howarth,
and I haven't once had one crack.
Narrator: For Emily, the time and care
Howarth puts into each oboe
sings through in the end product,
so she doesn't mind the high cost.
Emily: There is no question in my mind.
They're worth every penny.
To play on something that's so beautifully made,
that's such excellent quality,
means the world to my professional career
and allows me to just then relax
and be the artist I want be.