The Commmander's Console (Pt. 1)

What a great story! What a great ending! And, that 800C is just stunning.

If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to have a copy of that article on Avery Fisher. No hurry, whenever you can get around to it. I'm always on the lookout for any documentation that I don't currently have.

Tia,
Clay

Wow, love this post, many many congrats. :thmbsp::thmbsp:

This is AK and good karma at its best. When the owner contacted me after finding my personal web site and sending me an email asking if I could advise him on selling this console, I knew it was something special (although I did not know the details).

After searching AK to help identify the Fisher, I found the extensive information posted about Fisher consoles by AK member TheRed1. And he was located in the same state as the Commander. This was a perfect match.

I'm sure the Commander appreciated your knowledge about Fisher and being honest with him about his options to sell the unit and wanted it to go to someone that would appreciate it.

Well done. Cheers, Snade

Absolutely amazing. The story that the console carries with it makes it even more special. It was built halfway across the world, spent time on an island in the South Pacific, and then managed to make it back here in showroom condition.

Thanks for all the kind words everybody - especially Snade, without whom this could not have happened.

I believe I have identified the speakers as Wharfedale Super 12 RS/DDs. They, like the reel-to-reel, seem to be somewhat obscure audio esoterica. Their sound, though my sampling was brief, was very impressive. The Commander seemed especially proud of his console's bass response and called my attention to it. Already smiling ear to ear, I nodded my approval wondering just how goofy I must seem.

Here is the catalog entry from 1962:


Fisherdude: I have the Avery Fisher article typed up but I'm not sure how to get it to you or if I should just post it and, if so, where?

By far the nicest console I have ever seen! Very glad a beautiful piece of history has fallen into very, very good hands. Fantastic story as well. That must be one of the earliest Sony reel to reels... well worth restoring, IMO. The Commander might have had the nicest hi-fi on Guam... but you probably have the nicest console on AK!

I think the Avery Fisher story would merit a separate post, I sure would like to read it! :yes:

Congratulations! That is a wonderful find and some great Karma. I cannot think of a more appropriate new home for this system.

I too would like to read the Avery Fisher story. I was just emailing his son last week. John

TheRed1 said:

Thanks for all the kind words everybody - especially Snade, without whom this could not have happened.

I believe I have identified the speakers as Wharfedale Super 12 RS/DDs. They, like the reel-to-reel, seem to be somewhat obscure audio esoterica. Their sound, though my sampling was brief, was very impressive. The Commander seemed especially proud of his console's bass response and called my attention to it. Already smiling ear to ear, I nodded my approval wondering just how goofy I must seem.

Here is the catalog entry from 1962:

Fisherdude: I have the Avery Fisher article typed up but I'm not sure how to get it to you or if I should just post it and, if so, where?

Click to expand...

I'm not using my Goodman Axiom 401s as stand alones but have matched them up with an Axiom brand tweeter ( just a fluke on the name match lol) crossed over at 6000Hz. The result is remarkable. They are in sealed cabinets that are fairly small, still the bass is more than sufficient for my small living room and WAF approved upstairs system. I'm looking forward to upgrading the crossovers on these. There is no attenuation but because I lucked out on the matching there really doesn't need to be any which is great.

Lar

Wow, thats a great find. Congrats, and thanks for saving this little piece of history.

It is posts like this one that makes AK a great place. Congratulations.

New Home For The Commander's Console

Well, it finally made it into the house yesterday. My very, VERY understanding wife and I were just barely able to carry it from the van, down a grassy slope; around to the back of our townhouse and through the 2-1/2' wide opening of a sliding-glass door. It was already climbing through the 80s, headed toward 90 degrees as we did this. It nearly killed us. And it confirmed my wife's belief that she married a madman.

This all started Wednesday immediately after work with a complete reorganization of the computer room; eliminating a superfluous desk and redoing a ton of storage. Thursday I organized the unfinished portion of the basement, starting around 4 pm and finishing well after midnight. That alone nearly killed me. Friday, my wife and I removed the desk on the 3rd floor to the basement and somehow got my stereo cabinet (below is the before picture) up 2 flights of stairs, negotiating 3 tight U-turns in the process.

BEFORE:

AFTER:


After that I mowed the yard before it got too hot and then spent the rest of yesterday making up for the purchase of yet ANOTHER console. We went to the nursery and bought plants for the back yard. Came home, puttered, had some company over and enjoyed the beautiful weather together. (I'm told I don't spend enough time outside enjoying our beautiful, though tiny, back yard.) To cap off the day I took her out to our favorite Mexican restaurant and stopped for dessert at Kline's Soft-Serve Ice Cream Stand. She had the Pecan Turtle Delite - I think our marriage will survive.

So this morning the cats got me up at the usual 6 am and after feeding them and making a pot of coffee I went downstairs to explore the console. I found a brand new Signet TK1E cartridge on the Garrard. The needle doesn't show any wear. There was also a Shure M99 with a bent cantilever - I wonder if it could be the original. Then I went through all the stuff in drawer. Some of what I thought were blank reels had been labeled by the Commander. I'm very excited to hear how these sound especially since 1964 was my first Christmas.





Next I hooked up the speakers and an FM antenna. To my horror I only had sound out of one speaker. It was working fine at the Commander's house. After swapping speaker connections (both speakers are fine) and listening through a headphone (where I heard a good stereo signal), I tried the selector switch and ended up listening to AM through the right speaker only. The reception was really good and, easily distracted, I found myself listening to an Oldies station. Then, while a Frank Sinatra song was playing (The Tender Trap); the left channel slowly came back. Tried FM stereo - no left channel. FM mono - both speakers work. Back to FM stereo; panned the balance all the way left; turned up the volume and heard a faint signal which slowly increased until it was only about 30% less than the right channel. I think the left channel may have been a little distorted, too. So it sounds like I've got a bad tube or dirty tube pins in the MPX. Or possibly a dirty wiper on the source selector. What do you guys think?

It had been several hours when I finally remembered my coffee. (Thermal carafes are indispensable!)

I drank my coffee and cleaned the console while I listened to the radio for most of the morning with the balance panned to around 10 o'clock. It seemed to sound somewhat better after several hours of operation. But, even with these vexations, I am TOTALLY AMAZED by these speakers - and I thought Klipsch Cornwalls were that cat's pajamas!?!? Apparently the Commander made a good choice with the Wharfedale co-axials and/or the good folks at the Yokohama Hi-Fi Cabinet Company knew what they were doing when they put these guys together back in 1963. I'd been having second thoughts about putting the Cornwalls in storage but now I'm wondering if I wouldn't be better off selling them. Then I think to myself: could it be the difference between 7868s and 7591s? Somehow I doubt it.

Other discoveries include: a functioning "power on" red light in the center of the console's baseboard; a toggle switch that allows the turntable to power off the entire console when it's finished playing; unmarked controls on the back of the speakers that I'm assuming attenuate high frequencies and a really cool scale for measuring tracking force. I haven't tried the turntable yet but, as I suspected, it cleaned up very nicely. Oh, and I almost forgot the cool light that comes on automatically when the turntable shelf is pulled out. This console is just so cool - I'm certainly not worthy to be its owner.

SLIDE SHOW
http://s205.photobucket.com/user/irwinbay/slideshow/TCC1

Great report. How about a photo with the doors open on all three pieces.

The woodwork is simply amazing.

Great stuff. Mark

That wall is 11' long and there are maybe 2" of clearance between the bi-fold doors as they swing open. Talk about Audio Karma...

TheRed1 said:

That wall is 11' long and there are maybe 2" of clearance between the bi-fold doors as they swing open. Talk about Audio Karma...

Click to expand...

Wow. :thmbsp:

Some things were meant to be. :yes:

Mark

That is one imposing looking console. It simply commands attention and appreciation.

Red:

That is simply stunning!

Dave

congratulations on getting her in and playing she looks at home. The slide show is great, I love the fact the back of the cabinet has those screened doors that is too cool!

Avery Fisher Article (Circa 1960)

Didn't really know where to post this since it's more historical than tube related. But I figure it's associated with the Commander's Console so I'll drop it in here.

This article was among the items that the Commander received with the 800C he purchased in Japan in late 1963. It isn't dated but the second illustration of Avery Fisher flushing a flock of Fisher's trademark "golden swallows" from a receiver is a clue. I thought the chassis looked familiar and when I compared it to my TA-600 it matched up very closely. (And since the TA-800 is nearly identical to the TA-600 it could just as well be a representation of that receiver.) That would date it to sometime around 1960.

The King of Thailand's marriage occurred in 1950 so the author's focus is fairly broad. I have a friend going to Thailand this summer who might attempt to track down the Truman Fisher for me.

The Million Dollar Avocation


by John M. Conly​

When, in the course of Siamese events, it became desirable for young King Phumiphon to take himself a bride, the international brotherhood of heads of state was thrown into a perplexity. For what does one give as a wedding present to a man who already has everything (including real white elephants)?

Not among the perplexed, however, were President and Mrs. Harry S. Truman. King Phumiphon was known to be a music lover, and Mr. Truman was the only American President ever to be seen in public following a performance of the Beethoven Ninth Symphony with a score. These circumstances simplified maters. The Trumans called promptly on the man likeliest to solve their gift problem: Avery Fisher.

Within weeks, from Mr. Fisher’s New York factory there went out bound for Bangkok a most magnificent high-fidelity custom phonograph. Set into its hand-rubbed woodwork was a large silver plate, inscribed with the good wishes of the donors. “As if,” says Fisher now, with a hint of a grin, “the King was likely to forget who gave it to him.”

The order for the King of Thailand did not disturb the Fisher establishment a bit. In the last twenty-one years, Avery Fisher has become, beyond much question, the leading purveyor of phonographic high fidelity to the world’s Very Important People. If you visit the Maharajah of Indore, you will find in his palace a Fisher phonograph. And one of the most elaborate of all Fisher custom installations adorns the living quarters of the Shah of Iran, Mohammed Riza Pahlavi. “Quite a hi-fi man,” Fisher comments, “as well as a good sports-car driver; the two things seem to go together.”

The list of Fisher’s notable clients resounds so nicely and reflects so much hard work, taste, and attention that a small sampling of its membership seems warranted: Max Ascoli, Irving Berlin, Dr. Arthur F. Burns, Lee J. Cobb, S. B. Colgate, Bing Crosby, Thomas E. Dewey, four of the Mesdames Du Pont, Mrs. Marshall Field, Dr. Alberto Gainza Paz, Ira Gershwin, Huntington Hartford, III, William Randolph Hearst, Jr., Lillian Hellman, Henry J. Kaiser, Elia Kazan, Joshua Logan, Claire Boothe Luce, Frederick March, Gian-Carlo Menotti, Mitch Miller, Henry Morgan, Newbold Morris, Malcolm Muir, Mrs. J. C. Penney, M. N. Rand, Roy Rogers, Baron Maurice de Rothschild, Andres Segovia, Edward Steichen, Dr. Albert Schweitzer, Jennie Tourel, Alfred Gwynne Vanderbuilt, and Sergeant Friday.

The only trouble with this list is that Avery Fisher would consider it incomplete, because it does not include Mr. Gold. Mr. Gold is the operator of a neighborhood hand laundry in New York, and he came calling upon Fisher one day last year. (Fisher, incidentally, owns or leases nearly a block of buildings in Long Island City, and it takes a good ten minutes, from a standing start, to find his office.) Gold had put together a high-fidelity music system which incorporated several Fisher components and which did not seem to be working as it should. He was distressed. Fisher received him (he receives everybody) and astounded him further by suggesting that they go to Gold’s home.

They did, and Fisher reports on the venture: “I went in and I saw a record collection second to none I know of, at least in quality, not even to WQXR’s, let alone my own. Not only LPs but 78s. Everything was there that ought to be there, the choicest and most essential things.” He went to work on the music system and quite easily made it sound right. But he will not forget Mr. Gold in a hurry. Mr. Gold is the man whose name, Fisher hopes, is (or will be) legion. “This is our intellectual nobility,” he says, “make no mistake about it. And it is a very encouraging thing.”

Everything seems to encourage Fisher; there has been a kind of serendipity in the course of his life. He is now in the beginning of his fifth decade, a sturdily built man with an orderly thatch of graying hair, dark eyes, and a ready and rather gentle smile. He was born in the Yorkville section of Manhattan into a family to whom music and phonographs both were an important part of recreational life. His father, Charles Fisher, a real estate specialist, owned one of the nation’s biggest collections of acoustic horn gramophones. The boy Avery was allowed to study violin as early as he wanted to, which was pretty early. He is still a proficient violinist. At the Fisher home on New York’s East Side there are regular chamber music concerts in which Fisher plays first or second fiddle, depending on the music and performing company.

Despite this musicianly bent, when he went to NYU he majored in biology, taking a B.S. He didn’t use it. He went instead to Dodd, Mead and Company, book publishers, where he learned book and typographical design. He became very good at this, as is attested by his success with it since as a lucrative hobby. The latest set of books he has designed is Sir Winston Churchill’s History of the English-Speaking Peoples. Fisher loves to be accosted at parties by people who ask him: “Did you know there’s another Avery Fisher, who designs books?”

Profession (book designing) and avocation (high fidelity) exchanged places in 1937. Like sundry others in his present calling, fisher began his high fidelity experimenting so that he himself might enjoy reproduced music at its best. Broadcasting and recording had far outsped the home radio and phonograph. So pleased was he with the results of his labors that he was anxious to share them, and he also saw that they might be marketable. In 1937, therefore, he quit the book business and founded the Philharmonic Radio Corporation. His first chief product was a chassis which incorporated a TRF (tuned radio frequency) receiver and a twenty-five-watt beam powered audio amplifier. He would not tolerate it now, but in its time it was probably the best in the world. He built radio-phonographs as fast as he could, but never quite fast enough to answer the demand. Our latter-day yearning for music, unparalleled in the world’s history, had caught up with him.

The war interrupted the joy ride. Fisher sold his company to a big corporation and directed it, through the duration of hostilities, in the production of electronic mechanisms for war.

Once the war was over, he cut loose again and got back to music. In 1945 he established the Fisher Radio Corporation. It is a dual operation, as all his manufacturing has been from the beginning. For prosperous folk, short of time or indolent, he makes assembled phonographs (designed as furniture by Avery Fisher). For venturous music lovers, who feel themselves partners to Casals of Klemperer, he makes high-fidelity components -- amplifiers, preamplifiers, FM-AM radio tuners, remote-control switches (including a stereo balance control that may prevent many a nervous breakdown), and the like. These also are styled tastefully, but with a difference. A Fisher amplifier is, perhaps, a little heavier than it needs to be, by virtue of its oversized components. There is a built-in challenge: if you can lift it you will love it. On Fisher preamplifiers there are always a couple of knife switches, which are completely unnecessary except that they denote a kind of raw, masculine efficiency. Flip one of these and you feel as if you are governing the S. S. Constitution, or at least a sizable yacht. A button to push or a knob to turn is not the same thing. Designers have to be psychologists, and Avery fisher is a very good designer.

His designs upon his customers, however, are entirely benign. He thoroughly enjoys his work, and one gets the impression that this is mainly why he performs it. He thinks profit comes after the job well done and must wait upon it. Accordingly, his procedure in business is a little strange, especially to the people that work for him. One rule, for instance, is that any customer who calls Fisher through the office switchboard get to talk to him direct; even Fisher’s secretary cannot prevent this.

Fisher has the gift of making right decisions in split seconds and of picking people to surround him who can think nearly as he does. This allows him the liberty of being a business artist, a considerable liberty which he takes seriously. He admits pride in a few things. One of them is the fisher FM tuner 90, which he thinks helped convert Continental Europe to FM (it outsells all other tuners there) and thus brought better music home to some thousands of Europeans. In other artistic matters he is almost fiercely modest.

His fiddle bow is a Hill, of some renown, but his violin is not of famous make. “If I were to sequester a Strad or a Guadagnini,” he explains with fervor, “for amateur use, it would almost a sin. These instruments should be put at the disposal of professional artists, for the public, not kept in private homes. Anyway,” he continues, “this is an age of reproduction, of reproduction that can almost be called perfect.”

Patently, this is where the reporter must come to the aid of the man scanned, for never in his life would Avery Fisher audibly presume that he has been of assistance to the endeavors of Johann Sebastian Bach or Ludwig van Beethoven. Yet he and his colleagues and competitors in the reproduction of sound have so served, beyond any doubt. Never before in the world have so many people listened so earnestly and with such reward to so much good music as now. And most of it happens in living rooms.

Charged with a proposition like this, Mr. Fisher becomes at once gruff (which is uncharacteristic), charitable, and institutional. What he says is, and you are bound to believe him, “It’s a very honest business.” He ought to know.

Very nice read!

Sometimes... in the overall scheme of things.... it's worth it to "pony up" the extra dollars necessary to acquire a unique , quality piece. Looks like you did well.... doubt you'll regret it.