These little beasts were one of Aeolian-American's many uses (abuses?)
of the many prestigious brand names they owned.  Not only did they
own the highly regarded Chickering, Mason & Hamlin, Knabe piano names
(among others), they also owned the equally prestigious Ampico, Duo-Art
and Welte-Mignon trademarks.

Apparently they were banking on the high regard these brand names
had to sell pianos which were, unfortunately, not of the quality
associated with their name.  Incidentally, they also owned the name
Standard Pneumatic Action Company, which you'll find (complete with
the old logo) in spool boxes of the later instrument.

I remember a piano salesman in the late 1970's telling me that these
pianos were "built by the well-known 'Standard Pneumatic Action
Company', and they were exactly like Grandma's old player piano."

Sooo...  Grandma's piano was a dropped action spinet in a console
case, had plastic valves, gaudy casework, and an electric suction box?
Yea, right...

But, in all fairness to Aeolian-American, they had every right to use
any of the names they owned.  Of all the piano manufacturers who built
players after WW2, they probably were the most committed to the idea.
They certainly built the vast majority of the postwar players you find.

While I'll be the first to say the instruments were pretty bad
(awful!), I can imagine that, in order to make these instruments
reasonably affordable, they cut corners wherever possible.  When this
left them with a reasonably affordable but poor quality instrument,
they turned to the two things that Joe Piano Buyer can easily see:
a fancy case, and a highly respected name.

They certainly had a plentiful supply of highly respected brand
names to use, and took advantage of their prestige.  Can you blame
them, really?

It's sad that the value of these brand names was compromised, but
they were one of the few cards Aeolian-American had left to play.

Bryan Cather