Pietro A. Yon (1886-1943)

Born in Italy’s Piedmont in 1886, Pietro Alessandro Yon was a musician who hit the ground running: graduating with honors at Rome’s Accademia di Santa Cecilia, a command performance before the King of Italy, an appointment as deputy organist of the Vatican—all before he was twenty-one.

Yon was brought to America in 1907 as organist-choirmaster at the church of St. Francis Xavier and quickly became a major force in New York’s, and even the nation’s, musical life. His choir became known for its lush singing and attractive programming; he maintained a busy concert schedule, crisscrossing the United States as a recitalist; and in the meantime he composed. His music made it to St. Patrick’s Cathedral before he did, as early as 1910, immediately earning a place in the Cathedral’s permanent repertoire. By the 1920s, Yon had become a genuine media star: the first-ever Titular Organist of the Vatican, organist at Enrico Caruso’s funeral, conductor of his own music on the brand-new CBS and NBC radio networks, designer of Carnegie Hall’s organ . . . and of course, the man who wrote the evergreen Christmas classic “Gesù Bambino.” It was probably inevitable that he would be asked to join the St. Patrick’s music department. In 1927, he became assistant to his old friend, music director James Ungerer. With Ungerer’s retirement in 1929, Yon took the helm.

Under his direction, music at St. Patrick’s entered a glory time. Yon and his high-octane Male Soloist Ensemble became famous at Sunday Masses, special services, outside concerts, national and international broadcasts. When the Cathedral’s organ was dedicated in 1930, the event drew 12,000 people and caused a near-riot on Fifth Avenue. Yon was profiled in Time and The New Yorker, and his musicians were enough of a draw that they were featured as headliners at the 1939 World’s Fair. Through it all he continued to write, a total of over 70 Mass settings and major works, including the oratorio The Triumph of St. Patrick which premiered at Carnegie Hall. His amazing output continued until he died from a stroke in 1943.

But no matter how busy he might be, Yon always had time for his other love—practical jokes. Neighbors found plastic dog droppings in the elevator; priests were served soup with dribble spoons; even his prospective daughter-in-law, at their first meeting, found a whoopee cushion on her chair. As it turned out, she loved the joke (and married into the family anyhow).