Latest / Family Business Stories with Fexingo: Succession, Legacy, and Multi-Generational Companies / How the Zildjian Family Made Cymbals for 400 Years
Transcript
- Lucas: So there's a family business in Massachusetts that's been making cymbals since 1623. Four hundred and three years. That's not a typo. Luna: Wait, 1623? That's before the Mayflower even landed. Lucas: Exactly. The Zildjian family—Z-I-L-D-J-I-A-N—started in Constantinople, modern-day Istanbul. The founder was an Armenian alchemist named Avedis. He discovered a secret process for treating an alloy of copper, tin, and silver that produced a cymbal with a unique, musical tone. Luna: An alchemist. So he was trying to make gold and ended up making cymbals instead. Lucas: Pretty much. The Ottoman sultan at the time gave him the surname Zildjian, which means 'cymbal smith' in Armenian. And the family has been at it ever since—15 generations, all direct descendants. Luna: That's extraordinary. Most family businesses don't make it past the third generation. Lucas: Right. The standard statistic is that only about 12 percent of family businesses survive to the third generation. The Zildjians have survived to the 15th. So what's their secret? It's a mix of governance, adaptability, and one very specific rule: only blood relatives can own the business. Luna: That sounds like a recipe for infighting. How do they avoid the kind of drama that tore apart the Gucci family or the Bemberg family? Lucas: They built a formal partnership agreement that requires unanimous consent for any major decision—selling the company, taking on debt, even bringing in outside investors. It's incredibly restrictive. But it also forces the family to stay aligned. If one branch wants to sell and the other doesn't, the sale simply can't happen. Luna: So it's a kind of forced consensus. Lucas: Exactly. And they've only had to use it a handful of times. The agreement also caps ownership so no single person can accumulate too much power. Each generation, the shares are divided equally among the children. That keeps control distributed. Luna: But doesn't that eventually create too many owners? If you have 15 generations, you could have hundreds of shareholders. Lucas: And they do. Today there are about 70 family members who own shares. But only a handful work in the business. The partnership agreement requires that anyone who wants to work in the company must be elected by the other partners. It's not automatic just because you're born into the family. Luna: So the family members who actually run the company are vetted by the broader family. That's smart. Lucas: It prevents the 'nepotism disaster' scenario. The company also has a family council that meets twice a year to discuss strategy, and a board of directors that includes three outside members. So there's professional management oversight, not just family fiat. Luna: If these conversations have moved your work forward in some small way, we want to keep them free and without ads. The way we do that is listener support. If you find value in Family Business Stories, you can throw a few dollars in the tip jar at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. That's all lowercase, and it truly helps us keep the lights on. Lucas: Yeah, we appreciate everyone who chips in. It keeps the show independent. So back to the Zildjians—one of the most fascinating moments in their history came in the early 20th century. The family was still in Turkey, and the Armenian Genocide was unfolding. The patriarch at the time, Aram Zildjian, fled to Bucharest, then to Paris, and eventually to the United States. Luna: They literally escaped genocide to rebuild the business in a new country. Lucas: Yes. Aram's son, Avedis III, opened a factory in Quincy, Massachusetts, in 1929. Right at the start of the Great Depression. But that timing actually worked in their favor, because they were able to buy equipment and real estate cheaply. And they had a product that was essential for orchestras, which were still a major entertainment form. Luna: So they survived the Depression because they made something people needed for live music. Lucas: Exactly. But the real pivot came in the 1960s. Rock and roll exploded, and drummers like Ringo Starr and Gene Krupa started using Zildjian cymbals. The company shifted its focus from orchestral cymbals to drum-set cymbals, which had different sizes and tones. That decision essentially doubled their addressable market. Luna: So they went from supplying symphony orchestras to supplying rock bands. Pretty big cultural shift. Lucas: And they did it without changing the fundamental alloy recipe. The secret formula—the 'Zildjian Sound'—is still a closely guarded family secret. They blend the metals in a specific ratio and then heat-treat them in a proprietary way. Only three family members know the full process at any given time. Luna: Which is a great trade secret protection strategy. Only three people. If one dies, the other two can pass it on. Lucas: Right. And they've never patented it, because patents expire. It's just oral tradition passed down from master to apprentice within the family. Luna: So the governance structure keeps the family aligned, the secret formula keeps the product unique, and the adaptability keeps them relevant. That's a pretty powerful combination. Lucas: It is. And they've also managed the transition from one generation to the next with remarkable discipline. In the 1990s, for example, the company was run by Armand Zildjian, who had three daughters. Traditionally, the business had passed from father to son. But Armand broke that pattern and appointed his eldest daughter, Craigie, as CEO. Luna: Craigie Zildjian. I think she's still the chairwoman today. Lucas: She is. And her sister Debbie runs the company's education and artist relations. So the family adapted to changing gender norms without a fight. That willingness to evolve has been critical. Luna: What about the younger generation now? Are there Zildjians in their twenties and thirties who want to join the business? Lucas: There are. The family council runs a summer internship program for Zildjian descendants. But the bar to entry is high. You have to work in the factory, learn the craft, and then be elected as a partner. It's not a birthright. That selectivity ensures that only the most committed family members end up in leadership. Luna: So the system is designed to keep the business small enough to control but large enough to thrive. How many employees do they have now? Lucas: About 500. They make cymbals in the US, Canada, and Turkey. And they still dominate the high-end cymbal market. If you go to a concert or a recording studio, chances are the drummer is playing Zildjians. Luna: It's remarkable that a company this old, in a niche manufacturing business, has survived industrialization, two world wars, the rise of electronic music, and the shift to digital recording. Most companies in this space have been acquired or gone under. Lucas: The key lesson is that the Zildjians treated the business as a steward-owned asset, not a personal piggy bank. They never took on debt to fund lavish lifestyles. They reinvested profits. And they built governance structures that prevented any single generation from selling out. Luna: So the secret isn't really the alloy. It's the family culture. Lucas: I think that's exactly right. The alloy gives them the product edge, but the culture gives them the longevity. And they've managed to keep that culture intact for four centuries. That's the real story. Luna: I wonder if any family business today could replicate that. Most families seem to lose focus after a few decades. Lucas: It takes a certain mindset. The Zildjians had a clear sense of purpose beyond making money—they were preserving an art form. And they built the rules to protect that purpose. That's a tough combination to replicate, but it's a great model to study if you're trying to build something that lasts.