-- Forwarded message, please reply to sender and MMD --

 [ Editor's note:
 [
 [ The Orchestrelle of this article now resides at the home of
 [ Helen and Peter Edmonds in Perth, Australia.  I spoke with
 [ Helen's sister, Pip Newman, while she was visiting recently
 [ in the USA, and asked her to write to MMD about the humourous
 [ story of the family's organ.  Pip lives in Mandurah, about an
 [ hours drive from Perth.  She's an entertaining writer!  :-)
 [
 [ -- Robbie

Aeolian Orchestrelle -- A Story of a Mechanical Music Maker
by Pip Newman

Back in the late nineteen-forties, at one of the auction sales grand-
father delighted in attending, he put his hand up at just the right
moment to become the owner of a grand musical instrument.  In its heyday
it had possibly been the source of great delight and joy in a place of
entertainment or worship; maybe even a private residence - who knows?
At the time it was a playable organ with the promise of greater
delights.

Grandfather was not a young man when he acquired this Aeolian Orches-
trelle, but planned, in time, to restore it to its former glory.  Being
an organist of some considerable skill, he enjoyed playing the many
hymns which were stored in his wise and shiny balding head from his time
as a choir boy in Chester Cathedral in England.  Magically, the joy and
memory of these hymns were manifested through his big strong capable
hands.

An avid collector, he was always busy restoring, repairing and creating
in his workshop where he had run his business as a wrought iron crafts-
man for thirty years.  For the next ten years of his life many projects
kept him busy but he did not manage to find the time to investigate the
workings of the roll playing mechanism.  When at the age of eighty nine
years, he came to the end of his life, the organ lay silent.

In our family things have always been given time to work to their con-
clusion and, rather than being hustled off to the auction rooms, many of
grandfather's possessions and treasurers were stored.  Being a large
instrument with a dominating presence, the organ was dispatched to a
piano tuner and repairer, Mr. Saul Puffner.  He was a great deliberator,
but was sure he would be interested to investigate the workings of the
Aeolian Orchestrelle and to have the roll playing mechanism eventually
restored, when he could find the time.

Father was in no hurry to have it done so the arrangement suited him.
The organ was safely housed, it was out of sight, but not out of mind.
Periodic inquiries as to the progress of the restoration were made.

"Rather busy just at the moment, but should be able to get on to it
soon," was the standard answer that came for many years.

In the meantime other projects and activities had taken priority with
father.  The restoration was going to be quite costly; the problem of
what to do with the organ once it was back in working order and the fact
that no one in the family who was living in this part of the country
could play it anyway, resulted in procrastination.

It must be noted that with the original purchase of the organ several
boxes of rolls were included, being relics of the time when the instru-
ment could mechanically produce wondrous sounds.  The Belle of New York,
Light Cavalry, Midsummer Nights Dream Overture and a host of hymns and
popular music dating back to 1900 when it was built in New York, were
there for anyone with the strength and inclination to sit pumping the
pedals.

These rolls had been carefully stored in father's shed along with
pots of paint, pieces of yet to be restored furniture, old hurricane
lanterns, chisels, saws, hammers, early model radios, Punch and other
treasured old magazines,  and the dozens of valued heirlooms which are
stored in a family's shed.  Came the day when at last a huge clean up
was in full swing.  Father must have suspected something because the
movement of all boxes was painstakingly carried out.  The look on his
face, as he came stomping up the garden path with a forlorn-looking
lacy paper scroll in his hand, said it all:

"Termites!  The rotten sods!  Look at this!"

He let the roll unwind to reveal more holes in the first three feet of
"Pomp and Circumstance" than would have been required to play an entire
Bach Toccata and Fugue.  Every roll in the three boxes had been embel-
lished along its 'six holes to the inch' with more chords and trills
than Rachmaninoff could have produced in the whole of his career.  The
art of the termite had to be seen to be believed.  Not one roll could
play a recognizable tune.

Father was wild.  Wild as hell.  It didn't really matter that the organ
was still sitting in store waiting to make its first move towards re-
storation.  It was the wicked waste of all those rolls.  Think of the
pleasure they had been promising for all these years.

Now, reluctantly -- and very reluctantly in this household, as nothing
was ever discarded unless it was more than beyond the realms of possible
restoration -- three boxes of potential dreams were dumped in the incin-
erator, where one Sunday afternoon they played their last sounds in the
form of the snap and crackle of burning paper, and the whoosh, whoosh,
whoosh of the pulsating incinerator as the smoke belched out from under
the lid.

And so the time passed until after father's death several years later.
Again there was the sorting and housing of the family treasures and
possessions.  The question arose,

"What happened to the old organ?  Has Saul Puffner still got it?"

Sure enough, a much aged Mr. Puffner, some fifteen to twenty years older
but still working on his pianos in his old workshop, assured the family
that the organ was there, safely housed.  Age had rather dampened his
enthusiasm for the long awaited restoration.  The storage fees were
settled after some mystical formula was used to calculate the amount.

By this time the very musically talented member of the family had re-
turned from the other side of the country and it was decided that she
would take the old organ to her home where space allowed it to be
housed.

Time and mice had taken their toll.  The pneumatic tubes were perished
and the leather bellows vandalised by the rodents.  No amount of pump-
ing on the pedals could persuade any better performance than the most
frightening wheezing sounds, as the ghosts of the past expressed their
displeasure in eerie whistling and haunting calls.

By this time it was more than twenty years since grandfather, in his
late eighties, had sat playing hymns.  Here was an instrument, quite
rare, more than eighty years old and patiently waiting for the next
phase in its life.  It was time to do something about it.

The Concord pianola, which had also belonged to grandfather was still
being played, at that time by his great-grandchildren.  His great-great-
grandchildren still delight in such old favourites as The Red Red Robin
and the Skaters Waltz, a legacy of his collection, along with many other
old pianola rolls.  Over the years this pianola had been maintained by
a very skilful piano tuner and repairer, and he was the man of action
who at last took on the job of repairing and restoring the Aeolian
Orchestrelle to its former playing glory.

Three present generations of the family have been playing the same rolls
for the last fifteen years.  Luckily, with a talented musician in the
family these are not the only sounds it is able to produce.  Termites
can't destroy her ability to bring music and joy to all around her with
her keyboard artistry.

Over the years since the sad fate of the rolls that fed the voracious
termites, family members have been inquiring at auction houses and
antique shops in the hope of finding anything on a 'fifty eight note
or six holes to the inch', roll.  At this stage nine have been located;
two in auction rooms in Perth, Western Australia, where the organ lives,
and others in England.  A recent visit to U.S.A. did not bring any luck
in the short time available to make inquiries.  However, it did result
in making a contact with Mr. Robbie Rhodes who may like to tell the
story of this grand old instrument.

The restoration of its mahogany case will be completed in time to cele-
brate its one hundredth birthday in the year 2000.  It would be nice to
have a few more rolls to play for this occasion.  Perhaps some readers,
who live in parts of the world where termites are not a problem, may
still have a box in the back shed with even one or two Aeolian Orches-
trelle rolls which are just waiting to roll on and bring out the
wonderful sound that is produced by this grand old mechanical music
maker.

Copyright Pip Newman
29 Clifton Downs Rd
Mandurah 6210
Western Australia
e-mail via Peter Edmonds <edmonds@ausstep.com>