The Project Gutenberg eBook of Violin tone and violin makers
Title: Violin tone and violin makers
Author: Hidalgo Moya
Towry Piper
Release date: September 23, 2023 [eBook #71706]
Language: English
Original publication: London: Chatto & Windus, 1916
Credits: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images available at The Internet Archive)
VIOLIN TONE AND
VIOLIN MAKERS
VIOLIN TONE AND
VIOLIN MAKERS
DEGENERATION OF TONAL STATUS. CURIOSITY VALUE
AND ITS INFLUENCE. TYPES AND STANDARDS OF
VIOLIN TONE. IMPORTANCE OF TONE IDEALS.
ANCIENT AND MODERN VIOLINS AND TONE.
AGE, VARNISH, AND TONE. TONE AND
THE VIOLIN MAKER, DEALER,
EXPERT AND PLAYER
BY
HIDALGO MOYA
TOGETHER WITH AN ACCOUNT, BIOGRAPHICAL
AND CRITICAL, OF THE PRINCIPAL VIOLIN MAKERS OF
THE VARIOUS SCHOOLS AND THEIR WORKS
BY
TOWRY PIPER,
JOINT EDITOR OF HART’S “THE VIOLIN, ITS FAMOUS MAKERS
AND THEIR IMITATORS”
LONDON
CHATTO & WINDUS
1916
PRINTED IN ENGLAND BY
WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED
LONDON AND BECCLES
All rights reserved
TO
THE KING OF INSTRUMENTS
AND
HIS FAITHFUL SUBJECTS IN ALL COUNTRIES
THIS HUMBLE EFFORT ON BEHALF OF
TONE
IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY
THE AUTHOR
INTRODUCTION
For many years those who advocate the principle that Tone is the only thing that matters in a violin have been few in number, but earnest in purpose, and it would appear their efforts have not been barren of result when we find it admitted, where one would least expect it, that the day of the toneless old fiddle has passed for ever.
But this is not enough. Players of the violin, and especially those who seek refinement of tone in the instrument, still remain under the thrall of systems, methods, influences and errors which must also pass away before the road to tone is freely open.
An understanding of the relationship between tone and the instrument, and between the instrument and the various toneless interests by which it is surrounded, is vitally important to the player or the buyer of a violin—unless the instrument is being acquired as a curiosity, in which case tone need not, of course, concern the purchaser to any marked extent. But to the player these relationships matter very much indeed, and the understanding of them is rendered difficult owing to the invisible nature of tone, there being no material evidence to indicate its presence in one violin or its absence from another, a fact of which full advantage is taken in certain quarters. In the classifying of violins according to present methods, tone finds no place, having neither status nor any standard by which it may be judged; well may the player be uncertain whether he is acquiring a musical instrument or merely an antique. The very reason why the violin possesses a tone has not yet been satisfactorily explained, present opinion on the subject being near to chaos, some holding that it is due to the wood, others that it lies in some secret of construction, a few that it results from varnish, and many that it is created by age—but none, so far as I am aware, thinking it is due to an Ideal; material and construction being merely the means through which it finds expression. There is enough here to explain the uncertainty which surrounds the subject of tone and its connection with the violin, a connection which I shall attempt to explain in these pages by dealing with the instrument and its makers, whether ancient or modern, and with its history, manufacture, sale and use, solely from the point of view of Tone.
With tone at the mercy of caprice, and the violin in no better case, it is not unlikely that the general uncertainty extends to its makers—especially to the old instruments and their builders—notwithstanding the number of books which catalogue their names and indicate the nature of their work. Some few of these books are fairly exhaustive, authoritative and reliable, but the point of view from which the violin is approached is that of the connoisseur and collector rather than that of the player, whilst the rest are mainly unreliable and partial copies of the first.
In order to provide a sufficient account of those makers who, for one reason or another, are worthy of attention or likely to be the subject of inquiry from players, the second section of the volume, containing reliable and valuable information—much of which is now published for the first time—has been placed in the hands of Mr. Towry Piper, whose aid I have been fortunate enough to secure, and who needs no introduction to fiddle lovers. To those new to matters connected with the violin, it is sufficient to say that Mr. Piper is widely known as a writer and expert, one of the editors of Hart’s classical work on the violin, a recognised judge of fiddles and tone, and a capable player of the instrument.
H. M.
CONTENTS
| CHAPTER I ANOMALOUS POSITION OF THE VIOLIN | |
|---|---|
| PAGES | |
| Its dual status—More of a curiosity than a musical instrument—How the curio interest originated—Its pernicious influence—Tarisio and the formation of the Fiddle Cult—Exploitation of violins of small tone value—Consequences to the player | 1-6 |
| CHAPTER II A TONELESS METHOD OF VALUATION | |
| How the old violin is judged—Valued without reference to tone—Bought and sold by the same method—Examples—Why the method should be abolished or modified—A guarantee for tone-value needed—Small tone-value of many old violins—The violin’s proper position as a “work of art”—A toneless pariah | 7-13 |
| CHAPTER III TYPES OF STANDARD VIOLIN TONE | |
| Amatisé, Bergonzian, Brescian, “Cremonese,” Guarnerian, “Italian,” Stradivarian—Other ancient makers and standard tone | 14-18 |
| CHAPTER IV THE OLD MASTERS AS VIOLIN MAKERS | |
| Violins frequently made by workmen and “pupils”—Finished and tone-developed by the master—Two entirely distinct arts—Tone the result of ideal—Effect of model on tone—Methods of tone development still in use—Only possible means of creating a tone to an ideal—Reasons—Why the great masters attracted pupils—Tone versus cabinet making—Why pupils succeeded and failed—Most striking tone-feature of the old masters—Construction no guarantee for tone | 19-26 |
| CHAPTER V THE DECLINE OF TONE | |
| Position of violin makers after 1750—Difficulty of sustaining supreme ideals—Overshadowing influence of the great violins—The demand for low-priced fiddles—A few tone-builders always living—The art abandoned by all save the few—Attempts at a revival of the “lost” art—Mechanical efforts of Savart—Scientific experimenters—Scientific side of tone unknown to the old masters—Results following “attuning” process of Savart—Copyists, old wood theorists, and varnishers | 27-34 |
| CHAPTER VI RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN A NEW VIOLIN AND TONE | |
| No mystery about construction—Tonal results of mere construction—The tone of a new fiddle likened to raw material—Its refinement and the result—What a satisfactory relationship between violin and tone depends upon—Tonal position of the modern violin—Influences that have worked to its detriment—Its survival—Its test of merit—Idolaters of the fiddle and tone seekers | 35-42 |
| CHAPTER VII OLD TONE AND NEW—A CONTEST | |
| The Paris competition of 1912 reported by the Daily Mail correspondent—The more extended report of Mr. D. I. Cardozo and its particular interest—Six old violins compete with six new violins—How the competition was arranged—The violins and their makers—The result of the contest—The winner’s advice to violin makers—Obvious criticisms on the contest—The result decisive—Great strides in tone since the contest—The importance of these comparisons to the violinist—Comparison between the ancient and modern violin maker | 43-50 |
| CHAPTER VIII A -BARRELLED THEORY | |
| A consideration of some of the pitfalls besetting the tone-seeker—The accommodating qualities of age—The permanency of tone—Why the age theory is advanced—Sowing the seeds of suspicion—The result | 51-52 |
| CHAPTER IX THE EXPERT DEALER | |
| Two kinds of dealers—The “expert” dealer’s first consideration—His stock-in-trade—Why he does not exploit new violins—His one serious trouble—His view of tone—What he considers violins are not purchased for—Why he prospers—The type of dealer that is opposed to him—The genuine dealer and expert—The reliability of famous houses—Hazards confronting the buyer and how they may be avoided | 53-57 |
| CHAPTER X IMITATION OLD MASTERS | |
| Ancient copyists—Genuineness of their work—Forgery thrust upon them—The substitution of labels—All the great makers copied—Difficulties of detection—Genuine labels of the masters in the copies—Tone of the copies—Another class of copyist—Those who imitated age—Their object in so doing—Process of ageing destructive of tone—Honesty of these “fakes”—Another class: the factory imitation—Deceive only the ignorant—Another class: those intended to deceive—Their victims—Their danger to the player—A quotation from a letter and its lesson | 58-61 |
| CHAPTER XI LITERATURE OF THE VIOLIN | |
| The authoritative histories of the old makers—Their chief value—Their status as guides to tone—The impressions they convey—The limitations of the authors—Their attitude towards the modern builder—The modern builder’s “revenge”—The one idea which the player absorbs from these histories—The good faith of the authors—Their honesty of purpose—Their renown as connoisseurs and judges—The wide-spread influence of their work and its effect—Books on violin making—What they do and do not teach—A classical work—Instructions on how to play the violin—Their service—Their neglect of tone—The periodical literature of the fiddle—Its interest and value—Wherein it fails—A warning—The “Lives” of famous old makers—Their value | 62-67 |
| CHAPTER XII WANTED: A TONE GUARANTEE | |
| The business of the dealer—What he guarantees—His attitude towards tone—The dealer’s guarantee of no tone value to the player—The fiddle warranted but not its tone—Why the dealer should give a tone guarantee—How it could be done—Mere statements regarding tone not enough—An independent judge needed—The present situation reviewed—The perfect violin model—The modern maker’s relation thereto—How the critics view his work—The player without a guide to tone—His procedure under the circumstances—No standard of tone recognised by experts—The resulting difficulties—Capable judges of tone—The unsatisfactory judge | 68-76 |
| CHAPTER XIII HOW TO TEST A VIOLIN’S TONE | |
| An infallible method—The violin weighed in an impartial and accurate balance | 77-79 |
| CHAPTER XIV EFFECT OF AGE ON TONE | |
| Most theories held as mere beliefs—Mellowness of tone and age—Reasons why age is not responsible for mellowness—How mellow tone is created—The real effect of age on the instrument and its tone—Its effect purely mechanical—An appeal to violin lovers | 80-85 |
| CHAPTER XV VARNISH AND TONE | |
| A controversial subject—Effect of varnish on tone—Why it is misunderstood—Why experiments fail—The governing factor—The effect of a fine oil varnish—How the effect of the best varnish may be nullified | 86-89 |
| CHAPTER XVI TONE AND THE VIOLIN PLAYER | |
| Relationship between player and violin—The inexpert, beginner, amateur, artist, and tone—The player’s relation to tone: an illustration—The gulf between player and fiddle—Artist and player—Why players fail or succeed in tone | 90-94 |
| CHAPTER XVII THE IDEAL TONE | |
| The ideal tone—How a famous violinist secured his ideal—Difficulties of tone selection—What the average player seeks—Statement by a pupil of Joachim | 95-97 |
| CHAPTER XVIII HOW TO ACQUIRE AN IDEAL TONE | |
| The appeal of technic and the appeal of tone—Importance of tone—The development of tone-sense—Subjects for tone-study—What the student should avoid—The tone of technic—Tone of technic and ideals combined—Progress of the student explained—Advice to the beginner | 98-102 |
| CHAPTER XIX TWO STYLES OF TONE PRODUCTION | |
| The artist of the bow and the artist of the brush: a comparison—The delicate style of playing—Its dangers—The robust style—How the player is handicapped—The difficulties of judgment—Importance of the robust style | 103-105 |
| CHAPTER XX MODERN VIOLIN MAKERS | |
| Attractions of violin making—Makers who have discovered the “secret” of Stradivari—Violin makers and tone—Modern view of art and artists—Fiddle-makers and advertising—Worth of testimonials | 106-110 |
| CHAPTER XXI NOTES ON TONE | |
| Carrying Power: Carrying power distinct from loudness of tone—True toned violin rarely seems loud to the player—How such violins are abused—What players do not always realise—Carrying power and its relation to tone explained. Quantity versus Quality: A quotation very much to the point—A warning to be remembered—Importance of good tone—The player’s limits in tone—How the violin’s tone-capacity affects the player. Flexibility of Tone: The meaning of flexibility—What the tone loses without it—Its importance to the student and artist. Tone Failure: Violins which “lose their voice”—Conditions responsible—Reasons suggested for the failure in old violins and new. Fiddles Classified: Difficulties of tonal classification render results only approximately accurate—May be roughly divided into four groups: (1) Superior tone—The violins possessing it; (2) Excellent tone—Where it is found—Difficulties of selection—Ancient and modern fiddles—Human limits and consecutive reproduction of superior tone; (3) Good tone—Wide range for selection. Where this tone is usually found. Expert advice essential in selection; (4) “Just Fiddles”—What they are—Their legitimate place—Those to whom they bring pleasure. A Strange Belief: A quotation and comments thereon—“Stradivari as a failure if living to-day!” Tone Health: Some habits and fallacies—Fresh air and the fiddle—Musty fiddle cases—The carelessness of violinists—A suggested vandalism. Tonal Misjudgment: A few instances—A professional violinist and two violins—The opinions of himself and those of his hearers—A Stradivari violin and a talented amateur—His mistake and the result—An artist, an expert, and a poor toned violin—The result—Some great players and their tone—Where it fails—A player of ability and a factory fiddle—Its “suitable” tone—Accessories and tone—The important accessories of the violin—The sound post—What it may do and what the player should do—The bridge—How to keep it in the correct position—Strings—Some simple advice—The bow—A few remarks on its selection—The fiddle doctor—Deceptive simplicity of the violin—What to do in the case of accidents, etc. | 111-126 |
| Conclusion | 127 |
| Account of the Principal Violin Makers | 129 |
VIOLIN TONE AND VIOLIN MAKERS
CHAPTER I
ANOMALOUS POSITION OF THE VIOLIN
It would be difficult to present the subject of tone in a manner calculated to inspire both appreciation and confidence without first making an effort to rescue the violin from its present position of uncertainty, and the player from influences detrimental to an impartial judgment of the instrument as a tone-producing medium. This position has been forced upon the violin gradually; has become more menacing with the passing years; and is due to the addition of an interest which it did not originally possess, and which has finally become so paramount that tone, when considered at all, actually plays second fiddle in a dual value. The violin may still be the “King” of instruments, but this added interest has made it of even greater value as a curiosity. Thus has its position come to be extraordinary and without counterpart in the world of art.
This dual interest is, of course, well known. When associated with certain special instruments it is harmless enough. But what is not fully appreciated by players is the pernicious influence this world-wide curio interest exercises over all violins when the attempt is made to value them from a purely tonal point of view.
Mr. Hart says in his book, “The Violin, Famous Makers and their Imitators:” “In those days when the old Brescian and Cremonese makers flourished, the only consideration was the tone-producing qualities of their instruments; the violin had not then taken its place among curiosities.” So, then, tone was once the only value considered, presumably because the instrument was originally made to satisfy the requirements of players, and not the curiosity-hunting instinct of collectors. And the player’s interest in tone has never wavered. It still overshadows every other consideration, and is the object of constant search. Tone being the player’s elementary necessity, the desire for tone has always eclipsed interest in the merely curious. But being a curiosity, the old violin with the finest tone is placed practically beyond the player’s reach, and this has made the pursuit of even good tone, in all old violins, an uncertain and financially hazardous enterprise.
Let us now explain how this curio value originated; how it advanced; the mighty interests surrounding it; how it usurped the position of tone; and how it has come about that the old violin is valued, bought, and sold entirely regardless of its tonal capacity.
Between the years 1550 and 1875 there worked in Italy and elsewhere some seven hundred makers of violins and kindred instruments who were sufficiently well known to warrant the inclusion of their names in modern books of reference. As a large number of existing old fiddles are by unknown makers; as no amount of research will unearth all who made violins during that period, it is safe to add as many more as would make the total nine hundred. Among these nine hundred makers two take the first rank, closely followed by three or four who take second place, and a dozen or so who occupy the third position as creators of really great tone in the violin. Let us say the total is twenty, and we shall then have eight hundred and eighty violin makers of olden times who simply “made fiddles.” Upon the violins turned out by the twenty who rank as “Old Masters;” whose instruments, and especially choice specimens of them, were always few in number when compared with the productions of their more numerous confrères, and are to-day almost priceless; upon these violins was founded a cult, pioneered by one Luigi Tarisio in the early years of the last century. Tarisio was a carpenter by trade; never made a violin, and could play the instrument but indifferently. In due time, however, he began the collection and sale of violins by the famous old makers of Italy and became the chief instrument in spreading the cult over France and England. Originally founded upon the great master violins, first one and then another of the lesser known makers has been embraced, until now all old fiddles of every country are included, whether the maker be known or not, and regardless of whether the instrument has anything other than age to recommend it. This cult is scarcely distinguishable from any other cult, whether of furniture, pottery, or stamps. It differs only in the object upon which it is founded. It has its experts, dealers, collectors, and its host of followers. It is due to the scarcity of fine old master violins that the more plentiful supply of minor old fiddles, many of which are tonally worthless, is so diligently exploited. Without them the cult could not now be kept alive for a single day.
Among experts, dealers and collectors—but not among players—there has always existed a tendency to deal with the old violin more as a curio than as a musical instrument, and this tendency has brought it perilously near the status of old furniture, the value being centred in the object rather than in any tone merit which the object may possess. This view of the commoner old fiddle, so widely held by dealers of the present day, is due to the fact that the really fine toned old master violins, upon which the cult was founded, did possess some rare type of tone which, with much confidence upon the part of everybody concerned, could be taken for granted, and there was no need, even if an expert could be found capable enough, to pass any judgment upon its tone-value. In most cases the tone was there. It was absent only when visible evidence in the form of cracks, etc., indicated otherwise. It was sufficient to secure the object and tone of the right sort followed as a matter of course. Here, then, the expert acted not without reason in basing value upon what could be seen rather than upon what could be heard.
Therefore, when the violins of the masters were succeeded, for the purpose of trade, by those of lesser tonal worth, it was but natural that this method of valuation should be extended to these fiddles. It was the time-honoured custom, and remains to this day the only system of valuation in existence. It had always satisfied the collectors, for whom it was invented, and who collect for reasons other than tone because, in many instances, they could not play the violin at all. The great players accepted this toneless method of valuation with some show of reason. They were thoroughly competent judges of tone; could select their ideal from the works of the masters with unerring accuracy and, if they paid a high price for curio value, it was to secure what was of much greater importance to them, tone value. But how about the more numerous section of tone lovers: the aspiring young artists, the leaders of orchestras, the ambitious students, and the amateur soloists? To these tone is of importance, to say the least. Many a promising career is jeopardised through the lack of it, and progress in a difficult study retarded for the same reason. A poor toned violin will bind the soloist to a commonplace voice, and may even set up for the beginner a false standard as an ideal of tone. It is this great body of players who are obliged, under existing circumstances, to place their tonal wants at the mercy of a system not intended to cater for their needs, but to the needs of the curio-hunter. Let us now explain this method of valuation more fully in order that the violin player may see exactly where he stands in relation to a system under which he is, perforce, obliged to secure his tone.
CHAPTER II
A TONELESS METHOD OF VALUATION
It is the business of those who value old violins to determine the age, maker (if known), country of origin, “school,” genuineness and condition of various parts, and, from the result of these observations, to place a money value upon the instrument. All this is done without any reference to the tone; without placing a bow to the strings; without, in fact, there being any necessity for the expert to be able to play at all. An equally reliable opinion will be given if the old violin be without strings, finger-board, tailpiece, bridge, soundpost or bassbar, the top separated from the body, and the neck dislocated; that is to say, if the fiddle be utterly unplayable.[A] This is precisely the system of valuation under which the dealer in old violins acquires his stock, and when that stock is put into a saleable condition, it is the system of valuation under which it is sold. Whatever tone the old fiddle may or may not possess (and as to this the buyer may satisfy himself), the curio value remains intact. It is the predominant asset, and is unaffected save by considerations involving the object. Let anything connected with the object prove questionable and down goes this curio value at once. Here is an example: A violin, supposed to be by a famous old maker, was well known in Europe for years. Its value was a thousand pounds. It carried many of the ear-marks of its supposed maker, and contained his genuine label. In due time it came into the possession of a celebrated London connoisseur who had doubts. Removing the label, he found beneath the label of the famous maker’s son. The violin was then valued at five hundred pounds, the curio value of the son’s best work. But the tone remained the same! This example deals with the known great violins; those of tonal repute. Let us see how it affects the commoner old fiddle; those that come the way of most tone seekers. A fine-looking old violin is acquired at a supposed bargain price of twenty pounds. Its faded and tattered label reads:
prope Oenipontum. 1664.
After possessing this instrument with much pride for a time the owner takes it to an expert to ascertain its real value, and is told at the first glance that it is a modern imitation, made in Germany, and its value is thirty shillings. Here again the tone remains unaltered, but the instrument is not old. As to these imitations, most deceive only the inexperienced. Others, however, are more ambitious, being carefully doctored by expert “fakers,” and the old masters imitated—in everything save tone—with diabolical ingenuity. We are constantly reading how paintings and other works of art, supposed to be the product of some ancient and gifted hand, are finally discovered to be spurious; but not before they have succeeded in imposing upon the experts of national museums! These things are judged solely by their appearance, just as the violin is judged, and so long as this system continues, just so long must every one relying upon it be prepared for deception in two directions; the imitation old master on the one hand, and the genuine old fiddle of poor tone on the other. Would it not be a move in the right direction to rely upon tone alone; upon something which, at least, is capable of speaking for itself?
It must not be supposed from the foregoing that the great expert and connoisseur knows nothing of tone. He often knows very much about it—more, perhaps, than many who actually make violins. This knowledge he has gained through a unique experience, covering a wide range of instruments by many old masters, and because he is often a player of the violin himself. But all experts are not great, nor are all of them players of the violin. There is, indeed, under such a system, no need for them to possess a knowledge of tone, or any ability to produce it from the instrument. If, therefore, the old violin is not judged and valued from the standpoint of its tone it is not the fault of the expert, but the fault of the system under which he exercises his calling. This system offers protection only to the collector and, in the interest of all players (who receive from it no tone protection whatever), should be abolished, or at least modified to include as binding a guarantee for tone value as, without hesitation, is given for curio value.
If the lover and seeker of tone has some experience of the matter; if he is so fortunate as to number among his friends a candid and impartial dealer; he is aware that the bulk of old fiddles possess but small tone value; that it is age, repute, or appearance that sells them. Many players have purchased old violins which are genuine enough, but practically worthless in tone; such tonal glories as they possibly once possessed having long since departed. But the maker’s name remains; the instrument is still the veritable production of an old maker. In the case of paintings the ravages of time detract from a single asset, and matter little. Your painting may be chequered with cracks and otherwise show that time has passed across it no gentle hand. Its crumbling canvas may be bolstered up from the back without any detriment to its single value as a work of art, and it may slumber in the mansion or the museum secure from every hurt save the desiccating influence of the passing years. According to the experts the violin should be similarly situated and have but a single asset: that of an artistic object. If it were not called upon to exercise the function of a musical instrument all would be well. It would, like the painting, remain a rare work and nothing more. As such it would repose in its cabinet without ever a bow being drawn across its strings. As a curiosity that would be its legitimate place. Should any player drag it forth to fulfil another purpose, his must be the risk. Should he find this purpose accomplished, well and good. If not, he must be satisfied in the possession of a curiosity, and accept, with what patience he can command, the lack of tone.
For a century or more the toneless pariahs among “genuine old” fiddles have roamed from place to place, and from country to country. Like the Wandering Jew, they are never at rest. Countless amateurs have owned them, treasured them, found them out, and sent them forth again. Some bear the scars of fruitless operations, for it is the fashion among the inexperienced to attribute the lack of tone in all violins to faults of adjustment. In one way or another the attempt is made to accomplish what the maker of the fiddle failed to do. As to this, there is a difference between adjusting a fine-toned violin, and trying by the same means, or by any means whatsoever, to create tone in a fiddle that never possessed any. The many aids and improvers of tone may, indeed, alter for the better that which could not well be worse, but to say that any of them will “create the tone of a fine Italian” is a statement very far from fact.
I have now defined the position of the old violin as a musical instrument, and as a curiosity. The new violin has no status which the expert can recognise, because it is worth nothing as a curio. Unlike the ancient fiddle, it has but one asset, tone, and, according to possession of this attribute, is its value high or low. Being outside the calculation of the expert valuer, tone has neither standard nor status, nor any recognisable money value. The system under which the old violin is judged, therefore, cannot and does not apply to the new. In fact, there is no existing method of valuing a new violin! As I deal with the modern fiddle in another place, let us proceed with the consideration of the old and acquaint the reader with the Standard and Types of that grand tone against which all violins, whether new or old, should be measured.
CHAPTER III
TYPES OF STANDARD VIOLIN TONE
In order to distinguish the types of tone which, at various periods, have been looked upon as Standard—that is to say, representing an ideal of perfection, and at all times have had adherents,—I set out below five types that may be said to represent the five great groups of tone. Violins embraced by any one of these groups will vary in the perfection with which they present the type according to the tone-developing skill of the maker; according to his ideals of perfection, and according to the condition of the instrument. It is unlikely that two makers, engaged upon the development of the same tone-type, would succeed in copying each other exactly. Individuality would be sure to assert itself in tone as it does in handicraft. As to this individuality, it is somewhat difficult to describe, but may be said to be a sort of uniform peculiarity noticeable in the tone of all violins produced by a certain luthier.
Amatisé.—Sweet, sympathetic, and more or less lacking in power. Found in the violins of the numerous Amati family, Jacob Stainer, those of Antonio Stradivari prior to 1667 and his smaller instruments made after that year, and in the violins of the followers of these makers. Plentiful.
| Length of body | 13¾ | to | 137/8 | inches |
| Width across lower bouts | 713/16 | to | 715/16 | inches |
| Width across upper bouts | 6¼ | to | 63/8 | inches |
| Arching elevated. | ||||
Bergonzian.—Virile, powerful, partaking of the qualities of Stradivari and Joseph Guarnerius del Gesù to some extent. Rare.
| Length of body | 137/8 | to 14 inches |
| Width across upper bouts | 69/16 | inches |
| Width across lower bouts | 83/16 | inches |
| Arching flat to medium. | ||
Brescian.—Dark, sombre, “brilliantly melancholy.” Any violin possessing a tone sombre in character is said to be Brescian, frequently without much regard to other characteristics. Found in the violins of G. P. Maggini, and da Salò, which are rare, and in less perfection in a number of instruments by other makers, both ancient and modern.
| (Maggini) | Length of body | 149/16 | inches |
| Width across lower bouts | 89/16 | inches | |
| Width across upper bouts | 614/16 | inches |
“Cremonese.”—Not a type, but a generic term, used to designate the general superiority of tone produced by violin makers of Cremona, prior to about 1775,[B] over instruments produced in other centres.
Guarnerian.—A tone distinguished for its remarkable qualities of clearness, brilliancy, virility and intensity. Peculiar to the violins of Joseph Guarnerius del Gesù. Rarely imitated with any degree of success. Rare.
(Guarneri) Length of body 13¾ to 137/8 ins.
Width across lower bouts 81/8 ins.
Width across upper bouts 69/16 ins.
Arching variable but tending to flatness.
“Italian.”—Not a type, but an expression, used to distinguish the tone of ancient Italian violins from those made in other countries. Now rather loosely applied to any instrument possessing tonal qualities above the average.
Stradivarian.—Rich, mellow, sympathetic and powerful. The favourite with most players although Guarnerian tone is preferred by some—to quote the opinion of one celebrated expert, “The tone of a good Joseph beats that of the average ‘Strad’ into a cocked hat!” Stradivarian tone has been said to combine the good qualities of both Brescian and Amatisé. It possesses in a marked degree that rich woody quality admired by connoisseurs. To appreciate the meaning of “woody” quality, one should hear an organ containing both wood and metal pipes and note the difference in tone quality between them. The best organ of this kind I know of, and one of the richest toned instruments it has ever been my pleasure to hear, is located in the Tabernacle at Salt Lake City, Utah, U.S.A., and was built by an Englishman, Joseph H. Ridges (1826-1914) about sixty years ago.
| (Antonio Stradivari 1700-1724 period.) | |
| Length of body | 1315/16 to 141/8 inches |
| Width across lower bouts | 8¼ inches |
| Width across upper bouts | 6½ to 611/16 inches |
| Arching variable but always tending to flatness. | |
Of all the five types of tone Stradivarian is the most plentiful. Apart from the violins of Stradivari, which are more numerous,[C] perhaps, than that of any other famous old maker, the type is found in a high state of perfection in some of the instruments of his followers, and in not a few violins by modern makers.
It may be thought that other great makers should be credited with the creation of a tone-type; but I think their violins will, in tone, be found to fall into one or another of the groups named above, varying only according to the ideals and individuality of the several makers.
I shall now investigate the relationship between tone and the old instruments, and explain why a master of tone was not always a master of handicraft, and why many excellent workmen were unsuccessful as creators of a grand tone. In the next chapter, therefore, I deal with the old masters as violin makers.
CHAPTER IV
THE OLD MASTERS AS VIOLIN MAKERS
There is a “Life” of Stradivari[D] by Messrs. Hill which contains a deal of valuable and reliable information of the utmost importance to those interested in violin tone. It does not, indeed, deal with the subject from the point which we are now about to approach, but it makes such a fitting prelude to our theme that I regret my inability to quote this work extensively. I therefore earnestly advise my readers to procure a copy of that work if they are not already acquainted with it, as, in dealing with the subject of tone from my own point of view, I am prevented, through considerations of space, from giving much information which would add background and perspective to this discussion, and thereby add materially to its interest and understanding. With this digression I will now proceed.
The old masters divided the art, or work, connected with the manufacture of a violin into two parts. The first was that of preparing the various pieces of wood and combining them into a more or less finished violin, and the second consisted in so manipulating these parts as to control the tone and cause the instrument to give forth, when finished, exactly the quality, intensity, flexibility and refinement of voice which the maker intended. The resulting violin would, within human limitations, embody the tone ideal of the master. The great tone builders, for the most part, were surrounded by workmen and pupils whose duty it was partly, if not wholly, to prepare the wood and bring the instrument to a more or less rough state of completion. In addition to developing the tone the master designed the moulds and determined the exact size and shape of the instrument, this being a work having much to do with tone as, upon the perfection of the design, depends the type of tone which the master will produce in the instrument. It is probable that some of the Amatis were as well equipped with ideals of tone as Stradivari, but the model which they used prevented them attaining such good results, although producing tone of much refinement. Here is seen one reason for the never-ending changes which the masters made in the shape of their instruments. They were seeking the best possible base upon which to build tonal ideals, and not endeavouring to design a violin which would, in itself, possess these characteristics—an impossible task, as I shall presently show. Equipped, therefore, with high ideals of tone and a splendid model in which to develop and control every essential that makes for the creation of the perfect voice, it is not difficult to understand why certain makers were able to create, with remarkable uniformity, a great toned instrument; or others, with an equally good model, but not so gifted with ideals, a violin inferior in tone; while others again, like the copyist of form, without ideals, or the ability or desire to apply them if he possessed any, turned out a violin lacking in those essentials of tone which characterise the perfect instrument.
The violin has figured in the minds of its devotees as a curio for so long that points relating to its great asset, tone, cannot well be left to a mere statement of fact. Especially is this the case in dealing with matters forming the base of that cult to which they belong, for their knowledge of the instrument, its history, and its makers is profound, and embraces an intimate acquaintance with the many theories and experiments advanced and tried during the past hundred and fifty years to account for and unravel the mysteries of tone. While the reason for tone which I advance in this work is not only obvious, but actually in use at the present day, achieving consecutive results identical with those named in this chapter, it may not be amiss to set forth here, for the benefit of those who may be interested, some arguments in favour of the fact that tone in the violins of the great masters was due to their ideals of tone, and to no other reason. The process employed in developing these ideals was in no sense a secret with these masters. Great results in all art are due to the talents of the artist. Method and process, being but means to an end, may be imparted to another by precept and example, but the ability to express a high ideal was never the outcome of any “secret” in constructing a violin, or the preparation of canvas and pigment, or due to any special virtue contained in mere wood, paint, or marble.
If, therefore, those responsible for the grand tone in the old violins did no more than make the instrument, or supervise its manufacture by the workmen and pupils by whom they were, in most cases, surrounded; if the creation, regulation, and control of tone were due to any set, or even variable, rule of design, construction, arrangement of parts, manner of applying varnish, or method of selecting wood, then the pupils of, say, Stradivari, by following these rules, etc., could not fail to obtain like tonal results. But tone equal to that of Stradivari, or of any other great tone-creator, has never followed the copying of anything that could be discovered by the most painstaking measurement and study of their instruments.
Again. It has always been supposed the old masters attracted pupils desirous of learning from them the purely mechanical art of constructing a violin. With this idea I entirely disagree. There is nothing about the mere making of a fiddle to warrant the supposition. If these pupils were attracted because they wished to acquire, as nearly as possible, the high tone ideals of the masters, and become versed in the delicate method of its embodiment in a violin, for the purpose, in short, that has always attracted pupil to master in all art, the matter becomes clearer. Pupils of the masters frequently stated the fact on their tickets, and it is hardly possible they did so merely to advertise the source of their cabinet-making knowledge. Modern builders, more often than not, work to satisfy connoisseurs of form rather than exponents of tone; but, with the earlier makers, we are assured by an authority of the highest eminence that “tone was the only consideration.”
To hold any other view of tone-creation leads but to confusion. If mechanical construction alone attracted pupils they would certainly acquire all necessary knowledge with the same facility as knowledge is acquired to-day in all branches of mechanical art. There would be nothing connected with the matter that could not be seen with the eye and reproduced with the hand. Even if they failed or were at times careless in the last degree as carvers of wood, we know by the work of Joseph Guarnerius del Gesù, this is no bar to tone.
Yet we have makers taught by the greatest masters, heirs to their models and, in the case of the sons of Stradivari and Bergonzi, to patterns, tools, wood, and even partly finished instruments, but who still failed to produce the tone of their teachers and fathers. Surely no clearer evidence than this is needed to indicate that it was high ideals alone that placed the masters above others—even their own sons—as poets in tone. Let me repeat that this is no mere theory. Violins are developed to ideals to-day, and I believe it has been done since the days of da Salò by one maker or another. By no other process is it possible to create, as the masters did, a tone characteristic of the maker. No mechanical process will produce this result, whatever else it may accomplish, and however complicated, “secret,” or scientific it may be.
I believe experts agree that the most striking characteristic of the old masters’ violins is not simply the grandeur of their tone, but the extraordinary regularity with which this tone was reproduced in successive instruments. It is said that consecutive reproduction of any kind of tone is the most infrequent as well as the most difficult thing in present-day fiddle making. So far as the instrument is concerned, nothing has occurred to make this more difficult to-day than in 1725, when Stradivari, Guarneri, and Carlo Bergonzi were accomplishing their consecutive tonal marvels. The fiddle itself has no secrets which can be hidden. It does not defy analysis, and to add that the mere building of a violin never has given and never will give consecutive tone results, is but to say what is already known and has been repeatedly demonstrated for more than a hundred years. Lest it be supposed that any method is, in itself, a never-failing producer of grand tone, let me say positively it is nothing of the sort. With the highest ideals even the masters did not produce a stereotyped tonal grandeur. A fine tone was, with them, the rule, and a tone of lesser worth the exception—but there were such exceptions. With others less gifted tone of a lower grade was the rule, and fine tone the exception—and here, again, there were exceptions. In both, however, is found the unmistakable and individual character of tone personal to the maker, and inimitable. It is for these reasons that I should condemn any method of tone creation which is purely mechanical; which depends upon method rather than upon ideals, as being entirely outside the system of tone-creation used by the great makers of old time.
While dealing with the old masters and tone, we may as well continue with their immediate followers and devote a chapter to the decline of grand tone after the period of decadence was reached.
CHAPTER V
THE DECLINE OF TONE
As we have seen, tone had an auspicious beginning about 1550; suffered a rather lengthy relapse, but began to recover during the latter years of the next century; took a new lease of life about 1700; and was in full maturity and vigour during the first half of the eighteenth century. It then suffered a second relapse, more extended and more serious than the first, which all but terminated its existence.
A plentiful number of theories have been advanced, all more or less ingenious, to account for the decline of tone after about 1750. The known facts are few and simple. On the one hand we have the sons, pupils, and followers of the masters, while on the other we have the fact that they failed to secure such consecutive tonal excellence—to put it very mildly. To the many theories to account for this another may be added without any great harm. As the decline was in tone, let us look at it from that point.
In purely mechanical affairs progress follows experience and the passing of time. That no such progress followed in this case would seem evidence enough to eliminate the mechanical, or violin-making, factor, and substitute tone-ideals in its place. This, however, by the way. So great were the last three tone creators that there is some excuse for their sons, pupils, and followers failing to equal them. Between 1750 and 1800 there was, doubtless, little demand for fine-toned violins from the makers who were then alive, owing to the large number of master violins handed down from the earlier half of the century. The living makers might well have been forced to compete among themselves for such trade in low-priced violins as they could get. With them it was probably not so much a matter of tonal art as of bread and butter—or macaroni. We are aware that, in all ages of violin making, a demand has existed for the low-priced instrument, numerically in excess of the demand for those of higher price and better tone. Overshadowed, therefore, by the great masters this may well have been about the only demand upon the builders of that time. The question of high tone quality does not enter largely into this demand, but the question of price is vital.
Here, then, we have conditions which would appear to foster a decline in high standards of tone, especially when we consider that the models, as perfected by the masters, even without any special regulation or adjustment, produced a tone which satisfied the bulk of players of that day, just as the same fiddles, now ranking as “old,” satisfy the bulk of players of the present day. Some few makers of that and succeeding times, however, did not appear content to forego ideals. If they did not succeed in reaching the highest standards, they at least kept the wavering flame from dying altogether. We have, for instance, Thomas Balestrieri in 1750, J. B. Guadagnini in 1780, François Fent, 1780, Januarius Gagliano, 1770, Nicholas Lupot in 1820, J. F. Pressenda in 1840, and J. B. Vuillaume in 1870, to mention some of the best known, and not those of more recent times. Thus builders were always turning out fiddles, some of which fell little short of the highest standards, from 1750 down to the present day, for, as will be seen in the chapters devoted to modern violins, some of the instruments produced in these days, regulated to ideals in the old-fashioned manner, uphold the highest standard.
But if grand tone was not extinguished its creators were, and are, sufficiently few in number to warrant the statement that tone has suffered a serious decline. Especially is this realised when the few really great toned fiddles are compared with the number, less notable from this standpoint, produced since 1750. But there is nothing to be gained by labouring this point. It would appear to have been fully appreciated early in the last century, when we find the celebrated experimenter Felix Savart busily engaged in demonstrating, by mechanical methods, the reason for tone; and efforts at a general revival have continued ever since. The fact that tone cannot be seen, while the violin containing it is visible enough, has stimulated curiosity to discover a supposed “lost secret,” which in reality was the method I have named, probably abandoned for the reasons and in the manner already suggested, by all save a few. And it is not difficult to imagine these few, clearly appreciating their advantage, keeping the method of tone regulation and control very much to themselves and, by producing fairly consecutive tonal excellence (while the more numerous contemporary makers were doing the reverse), spurring the investigators to fresh efforts and the scientists to new explanations. Some of these theories dealt with acoustics and are extremely complicated and interesting, but it has never occurred to me that art has anything in particular to do with science, and I certainly do not believe the old masters knew overmuch, if anything, about the scientific side of tone. If the results they achieved have since been found of a highly scientific nature, there is good reason to believe they were unaware of it at the time. We read in Messrs. Hill’s “Antonio Stradivari,” p. 189: “That Stradivari was guided ... by a knowledge of science as applied to the construction of instruments, we do not for one moment believe.” And to this I would add that neither was he so guided in his creation of tone. Savart, in his efforts to unearth the “secret” by the use of some sort of mechanical means, was the first to “attune” the plates and thus produce the best mechanical method yet devised; a method having nothing to do with ideals, but much to do with science. Its outstanding feature is that it produces with uncanny regularity a type of tone which, like the process, may be characterised as mechanical. It is only fair to say of this method that it does, on occasion, result in a tone of much brilliance. Just why it should do so is probably a puzzle to those who employ the process. If they were aware of the reason for this occasional good tone, they could doubtless make it the rule instead of the exception. The reason, however, lies beyond the scope of the method employed, as we explain in the chapter devoted to varnish and tone. None the less, tone produced by “attuning” the plates is not by any means to be derided, although the general results attained do not warrant the high claims made for the process. Among others who laboured towards a revival of tone were the copyist, who let tone take care of itself; the old wood theorists, who considered that tone-quality lay in old wood,[E] and the varnishers, who believed that the “secret” of tone is in varnish.
Curiously enough, amongst those who have so laboured, the elucidation of the problem seems never to have been approached from the standpoint of Tone itself, and they have not regarded tone as an expression of ideals, but a sort of natural result following upon some peculiar or particular virtues to be found in wood and varnish, the maker of the violin being a kind of human machine achieving tonal results by rote and rule. Wood, construction, and varnish do, indeed, seem to indicate the possible avenues through which investigation may be carried. In them undoubtedly lies the reason for tone which, if discovered, would still leave the process by which it was achieved as profound a difficulty as ever. We view the paint upon a pictured canvas without special interest. We know it is paint and leave it at that. Aside from the ideals of the artist we know it possesses no virtues leading towards the creation of a work of art. We have no illusions regarding a combination such as this. If we desired to produce a similar picture we are quite aware that similar paints placed upon canvas of equal size would not be enough. We fully appreciate the fact that colour and canvas are but the means through which ideals are rendered visible, yet, when we turn to the violin, we find this truth abandoned. By the token here expressed all the virtue lies in canvas and paint. To achieve an artistic result is to use a cloth similar to that of, say, Rembrandt (of the same age, if possible), cut to the same size, and apply thereto similar colours—carefully gauging the thickness all over with a micrometer! With all this care we get a picture, but not a Rembrandt. As everything has been done that Rembrandt did, and the result is not exactly what we desire, we take refuge in the only hypothesis left, and agree that a picture so produced must wait for perfection until it is as old as Rembrandt’s. To produce a picture by any such means appears ridiculous, yet it is exactly the means by which it is sought to produce an ideal of tone in the violin. It is not considered that materials and construction are merely the means through which the tone ideal of the builder finds expression, but through some mysterious influence (not yet discovered!) the materials are expected to create some magnificent quality of tone at which the builder must be prepared to stand aghast.
Having now become fairly well acquainted with the old violin, and reviewed the progress of its tone through the past three hundred and sixty-six years, we may consider we have arrived at a point where the modern violin can be admitted, with the object of defining its position from a tonal point of view; first making an investigation into the relationship existing between a new fiddle and tone.