Hot Pianos

Said one woman firmly: "I want a Steinway or a mahogany."

When WPB slammed the lid on new piano production last July, the gloom-wrapped industry changed over quickly to making plywood plane parts, deicers. But it kept one eye on the piano market.

That market is now hotter than a jump session with Duke Ellington. The new piano supply is close to exhaustion; prices of used instruments have soared like an upward series of arpeggios.

> In New York, dealers are buying every piano they can get their fingers on. They are paying 50 to 100% more than a year ago. After reconditioning, they sell at profits ranging from neat to fabulous.

> In Detroit, where showrooms have been bare of new pianos for weeks, tone-tired instruments hardly worth $40 a year ago are now snatched from dealers for $150.

> In Chicago, the market is boiling. Prices of used uprights have doubled to $235, stocks of the popular new spinets (small uprights) have dwindled to the point where some stores are rationing them, selling only one a month. Dealers are scouring attics and haunting auctions to pick up stray instruments, are selling them by carloads, sight unseen, to Western and Southern buyers.

> In Los Angeles and San Francisco, new pianos are also rationed. Some dealers refuse to sell used instruments, will only rent them. One dealer has 450 rented pianos now out, a waiting list of 50 names and a tidy steady income without the risk of selling himself out of business.

Through the Loophole. All new pianos are under strict ceiling prices, but OPA regulations on used ones are vague as a beginner's fingers. Roughly, a used piano must not be sold for more than it would have brought in March 1942. But there is a loophole: if a dealer has no basis for comparison, he must abide by what his nearest competitor charges. Thus conservative, well-established houses with a long sales record are neatly tied. But small dealers gaily hop through the loophole, often sell used pianos for more than they brought new.

Feeding the boom are the bulging pay envelopes which have given thousands of Americans the chance to satisfy the musical urge they have always had.

Down Profits. WPB's piano ban was mainly laid down to force the highly skilled piano craftsmen into war work. The shift has been unprofitable, from the management view. Payrolls have risen sharply, but earnings are down. Recently Rudolph Wurlitzer Co., biggest U.S. maker of pianos, reported a net profit of $1.63 per share for the last fiscal year, way under the $2.48 of 1941. Only cheer for manufacturers: the thousands of new piano players should make for the greatest market in their history at war's end.

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