Cymbalism

There were musical folks on both side of my family.

On my father's side, that musicality was pretty limited (other than everyone singing along with Mitch on Friday nights). My paternal grandmother played the piano, and I can still hear her pounding out "The Blackhawk Waltz," "Mockingbird Hill," and "Maggie" on the upright in her parlor. We sang along when Nanny played, too.

On my mother's side of the house, musical folks ruled. My grandfather played the squeezebox, and both my maternal uncles played the accordion. Uncle Jack also played the piano and guitar, and was a professional musician for a while, with his country-swing-polka band, Jake Wolf and the Midwesterners. My mother played the violin, my Aunt Mary the piano. I'm not sure what Aunt Kay played. Piano I'm guessing.

I took piano lessons for a few years during grammar school, but I was a pretty awful pianist, without a scintilla of talent. It didn't help that I never practiced. Nonetheless...

I took lessons from the parish organist, a widow with two very handsome teenage sons, who gave lessons in the living room of her second floor flat in a decker just down the hill from my school. The only compliment she  ever paid me was to tell me that I had good rhythm. 

As an adult, I fleetingly - very fleetingly - considered taking up the drums. Maybe the bodhran, maybe a full drum kit replete with cymbals.  

If I had invested in a drum kit to hone my rhythmic talents, the cymbals would no doubt have been from Zildjian.

The Zildjians have been in the cymbal business for 400 years, when the Zildjian family began making cymbals in Turkey. "The name Zildjian, in fact, literally means 'cymbal smith.'"

The name sounds Armenian to me, which may explain why Avedis Zildjian, who came to America in 1909 and worked as a candymaker, didn't want to return to Turkey to take over the business in the 1920's. So, at the urging of his wife - "a Yankee named Sally" - Avedis decided to hell with cherries dipped in chocolate, and imported the cymbal business to Massachusetts.

Today, Craigie Zildjian, a granddaughter of Avedis and Sally, is Zildjian's CEO. The 14th generation Zildjian involved in the family biz.

Once considered exotic in Europe, Zildjian cymbals had been embraced by the world’s most prestigious orchestras and were then helping to usher in the Jazz Age by the time the company relocated to Massachusetts. (Source: Boston Globe)

I don't know a lot about professional drummers, other than a modest familiarity with Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich, who both used Zildjian's. And, on the (aging) contemporary side, the only two drummers I'm familiar with are Ringo Starr and Max Weinberg of the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, house-rocking, earth-quaking, booty-shaking, Viagra-taking, love-making, legendary E-Street Band! (If you've ever been to a Springsteen concert, that's how he introduces the band.)

And this year, Zildjian is celebrating its 400th anniversary.

Wow!

With a woman at the helm!

Wow! Wow!

And continuously run by the same family!

Wow! Wow! Wow!

At their headquarter in Norwell, on Boston's South Shore, Zildjian has a Hall of Fame. (Ringo is being inducted this year.) And their lobby:

...serves as a museum of company history, with drum kits that belonged to illustrious performers, signed portraits and memorabilia, an extensive timeline, and some beautiful examples of historic Armenian art.

One of the kits was that of Buddy Rich "with its Zildjian crash, slash, ride, and hi-hat cymbals."

When Rich was dying in 1987, the person he insisted on seeing was Armand Zildjian. They’d been close for decades. Rich had endorsed Zildjian cymbals since the 1950s. Now he wanted Zildjian to have his set. 

“Zildj, take care of it, won’t you?” the drummer said. Their parting words are part of the display in Norwell.

Crash? Slash? Ride? Hi-hat? The only cymbal type I'd heard of is the hi-hat. Maybe if I'd taken up the drums...

And within those types, there are 500 models made at the Norwell plant:

...ranging in price from $75-$1,000. Zildjian has turned out as many as a million cymbals in a calendar year.

A million cymbals? And to think, if I'd decided to swap out the piano for percussion, I might have owned a couple of them.

Anyway, I always love a made-in-Massachusetts story, and this one is especially sweet, even if Avedis Zildjian did give up making bonbons to get back into the family business.

Happy 400th Anniversary!