With Bells On

The Watervliet company appealed to science with the relatively new use of five-point tuning - precision thinning the bell to align the five pitches (partials) inherent in each bell: 1) primary (the strike tone), 2) an octave below, 3) the octave above, 4) the perfect fifth, and 5) the minor third. And true to the letter from Troy, the Watervliet bells were indeed much cheaper.

We know the carillon committee, consisting of Chairman Battle and Chairman Stark, visited Dartmouth College in New Hampshire, as Chester Meneely of Troy wrote:

"In talking with our Mr. Duffy of New York this morning, he informed me … the committee thought one of the bells in the Dartmouth chime was badly out of tune. I hardly think that this could be," he continued defensively, "as the bells in question were given a most thorough musical test at our foundry prior to shipment and later in the tower. As you may know, bells are very peculiar sound producing bodies and as much as they contain several tones, some of which are more or less prominent and it is very easy for a keen, musical ear to be led astray. This has been demonstrated time again at our foundry and elsewhere by prominent musicians unused to bells to pick out the wrong tones as the strike notes." In other words, don't believe your own ears.

But the appeals to science versus subjective aesthetics, client lists and references, all overlaid by aggressive charm offensives and negative portrayals of the competitors, were taking a toll. On May 6, White wrote to his boss, Paul Cret, throwing up his hands:

"The time is growing near when the order for these bells must be placed, if they are [to be] ready for installation as the structure is erected. We have received so much misinformation I fear the committee as myself is quite confused. … In view of the shortness of time, the confusion in the minds of the committee and their inability to make the inspection trip, I believe a definite recommendation on your part will settle the matter. Personally, I am so confused I would be willing to accept either firm."

A week later, the perceptive Cret wrote back:

"The selection of bells is a problem somewhat outside the range of the architect's professional training. This is evidently a purely subjective judgment and I am afraid the only kind possible in this case. In the same way that no scientific method to ascertain quality in a painting has yet been devised, the relative merit of two sets of bells will always be a matter of personal opinion. If this opinion is that of a trained musician, it will of course have more weight than one coming from a layman. I found that the opinion of owners of bells is particularly worthless, biased as it is by a mistaken pride and still more by the fact that these owners become accustomed to defects flagrant to anyone else. … I am satisfied that the Watervliet firm is able to supply our needs present and future. … All this being considered, I do not see any reason to eliminate the lowest bidder on this subcontract."

Eventually Stark and Battle did make a field trip, traveling to Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, to hear the Washington Memorial National Carillon that the Watervliet company had made. This seems to have gone well, for in June, Andrew Meneely wrote, "The bells all to be five-point tuned and each to be as exact a duplicate of the corresponding bill of the Valley Forge carillon as is humanly possible to make it." Meanwhile, this Meneely had visited Austin, and White visited both New York foundries at Stark's request.

In a few days, White wrote to Stark that the English firm would have been his first choice: "I am disposed to feel that John Taylor and Company are better equipped to furnish the bells we desire than of either of the American Manufacturers being considered. However, if we are to buy the bells under the PWA [Public Works Administration] provisions, I feel we will be required to use the bells of American Manufacturers."

Such was indeed the case. Because the Main Building was funded largely by the New Deal's Public Works Administration, on July 20, 1935, White sent a one-sentence telegram to John Taylor and Co. of Loughborough, England: "ORDER JUST PLACED FOR AMERICAN BELLS ON RULING BY GOVERNMENT." The deal was done, and the Watervliet concern had prevailed.

The Watervliet foundry closed in 1950; the Troy foundry, 1951.

The Ringers

Shortly after the carillon's installation in 1936, Jane Yantis, a high school student and the daughter of the building contractor for the Tower, H.C. Yantis, played the first song on the carillon, "The Eyes of Texas."

But for almost 15 years there was no official "carillonneur." That changed in 1950.

No history of the carillon would be complete without remembering the man who played those bells for 60 years, or two-thirds of their existence to date. Tom Anderson began his career as a carillonneur in 1952 best known as the younger brother of David, who had been the official carillonneur during the previous two years. Tom was a graduate student studying sacred organ music and ingratiated himself to campus with his wry song choices during the short concerts he played from 12:50 to 1 p.m. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays: "Blue Skies" as it poured rain or Chopin's funeral march at the beginning of finals week. Every set began with the Welsh folk song "Ash Grove" and concluded with "The Eyes of Texas."

After four years, Anderson turned the console over to others, who played stints of one and two years and all of whom carved their names into the wall near the console: Charles Hunter (1956-57), Proctor Crow Jr. (1957-59), James Moeser (1959-1961), Gordon King (1961-63), Lee Kohlenberg Jr. (1963-65). From 1965 to 1967, the carillon was silent; only the Westminster chime automatically marked the quarter hour as it always had and does still (mi, do, re, so … so, re, mi, do) and the largest bell - the 7,350-pound "bourdon," a B-flat - chimed the hour. (These five bells are played with hammers from the outside.)

In 1967, President Harry Ransom suggested that Anderson, then assistant director of the International Office, start playing the carillon again. Students made many requests, "Happy Birthday" being the most common, but prefiguring his time in the International Office, he was especially obliging when foreign students would request folk songs from their home countries.

After practicing on a replica of the carillon console on the third floor, Anderson, as carillonneurs do still, would take the Tower elevator to the 27th floor, then make his way through several locked doors and up 55 narrow steps to Room 3002. To actually see the bells, one must continue up a ladder and climb through a trapdoor. After the observation deck was closed during the early 1970s, Anderson was escorted to the carillon room by a police officer for every performance.

From 1972 to 1987, he did not ascend the Tower but rather played the carillon from an electric keyboard on the third floor, with each key activating an electronic clapper inside a bell. This was challenging for several reasons: counterintuitively, one can barely hear the bells from inside the Main Building and Tower at all, which necessitated a microphone in the belfry leading to an amplifier and speaker in the third-floor clavier room. Nor did remotely playing the carillon allow for dynamics - the varying of the volume of the notes.

But all that was about to change.