Avery Fisher

Fisher explained his desire to leave publishing and move into audio design, saying "That's how I started to make a living when I got out of college. I worked with a publishing house, Dodd, Mead and Company - to whom I owe everything when you get right down to it. I worked at Dodd, Mead and Company for the single most cruel person I have ever met in my lifetime - and I'm not exaggerating. This man was only a year older than I. He was the boss's son, and I think he sensed my apprehension about having a job at all. I went to work there in 1933, having been in the advertising agency that handled their account before that. That agency closed when the banks closed in 1933, and I was out of work for about six months. In the fall of that year, I went to Dodd, Mead asking if they could use my services, and they hired me for $18 a week. After about six months, perhaps out of guilt or something, they gave me a two dollar raise. I was doing the same work there that I was doing for them at the agency, and the agency used to charge them $100 to design a [promotional] brochure. I used to turn out two or three of those a week, and I still was getting only $18 or $20."

Fisher continued "In 1937, I noticed that the advertising department of Dodd, Mead was buying their photo engravings from one source and their book manufacturing department was buying from another. If they combined both those purchases and bought from one source, their quantity discount would save them just under $10,000 a year. I went to my superior, Ed Dodd, and told him about it. He said, "That's a great idea, Fisher." He never called me by my first name - always by my last, you know, like a deckhand. He said, "I think I'll do something about it." And they did. And I said, "By the way, I'd be very grateful if I could have a five dollar raise." He could have said, "Well, not right now." But instead he said, "Well, no. We probably could get some young Yale boy in here to do your work for less than we're paying you." That day, I said to myself, "I've got to get out of here one way or another," and I started putting [radio-phonograph] sets together for friends. I was moonlighting, and I did that for a number of years before I was in a position to get out and really spend full time on this. By 1943, I'd built up my company, Philharmonic Radio, to the point where I could draw enough money from it to earn a living. By that time I had a wife and child. So I owe them [Dodd, Mead] everything. Because I really loved my work as a book designer, and I turned out some very fine stuff, which won prizes. One of the books I turned out was called Grassroot Jungles, which became one of the 50 best books of the year for graphic design--this is out of 40,000 titles--and Ed Dodd never let me put my name in a book for credit as the designer. Now this is a long answer to your simple question, what got me into hi-fi. It was an act of desperation -- and also of love, because I really enjoyed hearing good equipment."

Fisher explained the start of his career in high-fidelity audio, saying “…I was developing my hobby in hi‐fi, and a number of friends asked me to make for them the kind of equipment I was constructing for my own home, the sort of thing that was not commercially available, the type of thing found in radio stations or movie theaters. And so I started constructing for this small group of people and before I knew it I had the beginnings of a business.”[3]

In 1937 Fisher established his first company, the Philharmonic Radio Company with Victor Brociner,[4] producing the company's first high-fidelity radio receivers.[5] Philharmonic Radio equipment was well regarded, earning Fisher the beginning of his reputation as a leader in audio equipment.

A January, 1940 Consumers Union comparison test of high fidelity radio-phonograph recommended Philharmonic's $ 295 (equivalent to $5,384 in 2019) 14-tube Linear Standard console unit, saying "Quality of reproduction judged best of high fidelity radios tested. For critical listeners who want the best possible tone quality regardless of price, the extra cost of this model is justified." The second unit recommended was the $ 219 (equivalent to $3,997 in 2019) Philharmonic Futura Carillon. "Difference in quality of reproduction between this model and the Linear Standard discernible only to the musician or engineer... the tone quality of this set will be considered perfect.[6]

With the invention of FM broadcasting by Edwin Armstrong, Fisher's desire to have a radio and amplifying device that could meet his goal of true high fidelity became a reality. In one of the earliest comparison tests of six FM receivers, Consumers Union gave the Philharmonic Futura K-1 its highest recommendation, saying "its performance on broadcast was outstanding." The November, 1941 review of the $ 377.50 (equivalent to $6,571 in 2019) unit also said "It also used one of the most satisfactory of the record changers tested and was best as to tone quality." The review also noted the unit was safer than others, saying "Only radio tested with no shock hazard at record player."[7]

Production of radios for civilian use was suspended by US government order in April, 1942.[8]

Reformed as the Philharmonic Radio Corporation, the company started producing military radio equipment, manufacturing the SSR-5A radio receiver during World War II for the US and Allied forces. Part of the SSTR-5 (Strategic Service Transmitter-Receiver) Radio Set, the set was developed late in the war, was considerably smaller than the SSTR-1, and was carried in a canvas shoulder bag. Components included the SSR-5 receiver and the SST-5 transmitter. The set was designed to be operated from battery power (the receiver uses 135V, 6V, and 1.5V). In addition to a standard model, both "A" and "B" variants were made. The SSR-5A receiver was made by Philharmonic.[9]

Philharmonic Radio also produced airport instrument landing systems for use in control tower communication with commercial and military airplanes. One of their largest installations was deployed at the New York Municipal Airport, now named the LaGuardia Airport.[10]

Fisher said "During the war, we were working on subcontracts for the Navy. We were turning out IFF equipment, which is Identification, Friend or Foe. It was a transponder, so you could tell whether an aircraft was one of ours or one of theirs. You'd send out a beam, and you had to get a signal reply back. We also designed the first instrument landing system used at LaGuardia Airport for the Civil Aeronautics Administration in Washington. In 1943, we didn't have enough money to finance the contract work we were able to get, so the company was sold to American Type Founders, which needed an electronic division." Fisher stayed on as president until 1945 but when the war was over he resigned and, taking certain key people with me, started Fisher Radio.”[2]

Though he left publishing in 1943, he said book design was "my first love." He still designed books long after he had made a fortune in audio. For example, he designed "A History of the English-Speaking Peoples," by Winston Churchill (1960) and "The American Seasons," by Edwin Way Teale (1976). He donated his fees for those projects to charities. Fisher told an interviewer in 1976 "Looking at a beautiful typographical design is like listening to music."[1]

One of Fisher's most prized possessions was a genuine 1692 Stradivarius violin. He would loan the violin to promising artists for special performances.[4]

Fisher was an life-long automobile enthusiast. As an enthusiastic driver, he said “I began in 1932 with the purchase of an Aston Martin, and since that time I've owned nothing but foreign cars. I still drive a 10‐year‐old Rover Mark III... when I die I'll be seated at the wheel of the Rover, and the whole thing will be lowered into the ground. Of course, all gassed up, in case I want to go somewhere.”[14]

Fisher founded the A. R. Fisher Products Corporation, offering specialty products to the auto enthusiast market. He imported aftermarket foreign auto parts, selling items such as high-performance Abarth exhaust systems for Fiats and Volkswagens in the early 1950s.