It is in the spirit of contributing to the ever expanding body of lore
dealing with harps and harp making that I disclose a most
remarkable phenomenon that occurred in the building of the harp
shown here.  I do not know if this configuration can be duplicated
nor whether it has any strictly practical application or not.  From
reading a great deal written on the subject of the characteristics of
wire harps, modern and ancient, I believe I am complying with
the standards of scholarship in place.  The harp enthusiast will
have to make of this what he or she will.

This harp was one of a series of five that were intended to be
more or less identical, insomuch as any two hand made wooden
instruments can be.  All five were made of the same wood, in
fact, from the same tree.  All were made to the same pattern and
in the same manner.  All were fitted with pins made in the same
run and finished in the same lot.  All the harps were strung with
wire from the same spools.
Four of the harps sound very much alike, very good tone, volume, and sustain. But this fifth one
sounds different.   Listening closely to the harp being played I found myself unable to pin down
exactly what that difference is.  It defies quantification.   Like the other four it sounds very good, it
has good volume and tone and a pleasing sustain.  But there is something about that sustain that
remains even after the strings have been damped.  Indeed after the harp has been put away and one
goes onto other tasks, the sound of the harp seems to linger.    Like a tune you can't get out of your
head, there is something haunting about the sound of this harp.  Oh, to be sure, there is something
haunting about the sound of all wire harps.  But in this case one feels compelled to return to the harp
to hear the sound again and again.
Finally it occurred to me what was unique about this harp.  It was
the shoes.  All five sets of shoes were courtesy of a metallurgist
friend of mine.  All the shoes are made of brass rod stock and
formed into the peaked horseshoe shape.  I think it looks better and
is more functional for the shoes follow the curve of the string hole
rather than being semicircular in shape.  But the brass stock has a
very persistent memory and has a tendency to spring back after
being formed on the jig.  To correct this the brass is annealed to
take away much of its hardness and temper.  This is usually done
by heating the metal with a torch before quenching it and the
carbon from the flame discolors the brass giving it a wonderful
antique look.
Four of the sets of shoes I received were of this rich antique color but the fifth was of a very pale
yellow color and softly shinning.  To be sure the shoes look great against the natural dark color of the
walnut wood so I was pleased they turned out that way and didn't ponder it further.  Nor was I
inclined to ascribe any credibility to the notion that this subtle but pervasive difference in sound could
be ascribed to the distinction between dark colored and shiny shoes.

Later when the metallurgist who made the shoes was over for a music session, I mentioned the
difference in the shoes and he explained that the first four sets had been made by heating the metal
with a torch but when he had made the last set, he had need to heat the furnace and had placed the
shoe stock in there to heat it.  The furnace had just been used to render gold and the soft shine of the
shoes was due to a tiny amount of ambient gold that had settled on the brass.
Still, even gold.  I know we wire harp aficionados tend to wax romantic and legendary at the least
provocation but how could a layer of gold a few molecules thick on the string shoes make such a
difference in how the harp's music is perceived?
The persistence of the sound of this harp
prompted us to investigate the matter
further.  My metallurgist friend also
restores antique watches and when he
found himself with several very badly
dilapidated gold watch cases, he melted
them down to render the gold.  Before
doing so, as was his wont, he
photographed them for reference.  The
photo to the right is a bit from a larger
photograph of gold parts before they were
melted and so the quality is understandably
poor.  Barely visible on the surface of the
old worn gold watch case was what we
first took to be a backwards 'J'.  
Closer consideration and reflection caused us to realize that this was not a backwards 'J' but rather a
Gaelic 'T'.  The case bore the initials T.C. and a device below that which could be the outline of a harp.

At this juncture the need for brevity compels me to abridge the story somewhat and say that tracing
back the source through whom he had bought the watch case eventually disclosed that the watch had
belonged to an immigrant from Ireland who brought it with him nearly a hundred years ago.  Then
going back from there we garnered enough evidence that strongly suggests that this very watch once
belonged to none other than Turlough O'Carolan.   My friend recalls that the case was of the
configuration that one found on the chiming watches at the time, just the sort of thing one would
expect a blind man to posess.
As strange and unlikely as it may seem, the only feasible explanation for the sound of this harp is that
the string shoes
contain a little of the gold that was once in Carolan's pocket while he played .  The
molecular structure of the gold must have somehow aligned itself with the very essence of wire harp
music during that time.
Alas, we don't know where the rest of the gold is.  It got used for this or that project and long since
passed out of our sphere of influence.  But fortunately we can be assured that there is this one harp
that comes the closest to the actual sound of ancient harps as is possible.