
You could move it from the den to the dining room and back again. Here was a piano that could go anywhere, anytime. But in the 1950s, when the only alternative was an actual piano, the Wurlitzer 112 was a revolution. In the age of digital keyboards, a hundred-pound keyboard with wooden legs and a thumbscrew-mounted pedal might not sound very convenient at all. We recommend asking a friend to help you carry your vintage 112.) This Wurlitzer is not light: we thought that the handle was ornamental until we saw ads depicting happy Wurlitzer owners actually carrying it around by the handle. Even with its limitations, he made it sound wonderful.Īds of the period boasted about the 112's convenient size and portability: the legs could be tucked into a lid, and the whole package could be carried about by its handle. He leaped up without missing a beat and continued his solo on the Wurlitzer. As he played one measure on the crippled spinet, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth made an O of surprise. Erroll sat down at the spinet instead, indicating his preference for the "real" piano. Hampton motioned for him to come up and play, and Hamp's pianist got up from the Wurlitzer to make room for him. and some friends came in and took a table in front of the bandstand. Hamp's pianist had pushed it aside and set up a little Wurlitzer electric piano that he carried with him on the road as a practice instrument. The hotel was trying a jazz policy in one of its restaurants, but had provided the band with a disgracefully out-of-tune spinet piano that had several broken keys. I dropped in at the Plaza Hotel one night to hear Lionel Hampton's band. As Bill Crow describes in his memoir, From Birdland to Broadway :

Although some musicians were skeptical about the Wurlitzer's tone (note that this piano was released decades before the synth age: nothing at the time sounded quite like it), most considered it an upgrade to the usually neglected and out-of-tune backline spinet. It wasn't long before gigging musicians saw the appeal too. It was designed as an alternative to heavy, expensive spinet and upright pianos.


The 112 was marketed towards parents, students, and home users. Even the transistor models of the 60s and 70s have their own sound: similar, but not exactly the same as their earlier counterparts.

There's just no plugin or emulator that compares to an authentic tube Wurlitzers. This gives it an exceptionally warm and lush tone. Like the 120 and 145, the 112 has a tube amplifier. Between its size, speckled paint, and midcentury lines, this is definitely a statement piece. A vintage keyboard is never going to fade into the wallpaper, but the 112 has a clear presence in a room. The 112 also has a unique silhouette: slightly deeper and taller than later Wurlitzers.
