CHAPTER V.

STRADIVARI'S GREAT SUCCESS--HIS SO-CALLED "GRAND EPOCH"--HIS

PATRONS--HIS VIOLINS REPUTED FOR TONE WHEN QUITE NEW AND SOUGHT

AFTER--THE HELP HE RECEIVED--HIS ASSISTANTS AND PUPILS--PARTS OF THE

WORK REQUIRING HIS INDIVIDUAL TOUCH--THE MEMBERS OF HIS FAMILY WHO

MAY HAVE ASSISTED HIM--STRADIVARI'S VARNISH--HIS IMITATORS.

The period 1700-15 or thereabouts, found Stradivari not only an

acknowledged master of his craft but among his contemporaries recognised

as the head. His business had been all along steadily flourishing, his

patrons had been of high social position, some most illustrious, others

actually royal. Among the latter the King of Poland stands out in relief

as having specially sent an envoy to Cremona and that he had to wait

three months before he could return with his commission fulfilled.

Whether he ran in danger of being decapitated for "hanging about"

Cremona so long is not known, but one thing is certain, that patrons

royal, illustrious, of high social standing and refined tastes, wanted

the newly made violins of Stradivari that could never have been played

upon, almost in the absolute sense of the term, while they could have

easily obtained well seasoned, well tried instruments of makers who had

lived long before. Here is "a nut to crack" for those who persistently

assert the necessity and efficacy of age and use to bring tone to

maturity. If any further evidence should be thought necessary to

support the assumption of the equal excellence of the new Stradivarius

with those that remain with us at the present time, it is contained in

the praise of those who heard and used them when quite fresh, declaring

the agreeableness of the tone to be beyond rivalry.

Stradivari may be said to have been now in the enjoyment of the

plentitude of his powers. Success was attendant upon him without

intermission. Tradition says he was reputed in the locality as

positively rich, but we do not hear of his aspiring to civic honours as

alderman, vestryman, guardian or councilman--common or otherwise--as the

outcome of the possession of full coffers. Stradivari simply went on

making fiddles. In a position to secure the best materials in the

respect of quality, artistically and acoustically considered, he put the

best workmanship upon them; also he further selected the best help

which, in common with all eminently successful artists, he must have

found it necessary to employ.

We now arrive at a point when the question may be fairly put, how much

help did he have, and of what kind was it?

As Stradivari left no record behind as to the number of pupils trained

on his premises, or assistants who came perhaps as improvers, we are

left to do our best in the way of inference. In the first place we may

take up the acknowledged fact of his having turned out an enormous

number of musical instruments during his very lengthy career; and it

must be remembered that his energies were not centred alone in turning

out magnificent violins, but that the viola, violoncello, double-bass,

besides some of the then not quite obsolete viols of different sizes and

fantastic forms, received his attention. These had to be produced at the

requirements of his patrons, of whom many had probably not yet

completely emerged from the misty musical atmosphere with which the

fanciful forms with florid decorations seemed so intimately bound.

Further, the fittings for them had to be made presumably on the

premises of the maestro and not as at present in foreign parts. At the

time there was not existent that extensive and special manufacture of

bridges, tailpieces, tail-pins, and pegs that forms a large and

significant branch of commerce at the present day. That the violin

bridge especially was a production of the Stradivari establishment and

not "made in Germany," is sufficiently indicated by its present form

having been introduced by Stradivari. On comparing it with the different

patterns of bridges that had been issued by the previous masters of

Cremona, it will be seen at once that the master mind of Stradivari had

effected improvements that have their counterpart in the designs of his

violin patterns. We may notice the successful efforts at stability with

simplicity, just enough of detail that would lend itself in completing

the harmony of the whole design, while dispensing with every unnecessary

angle or curve. Of the fingerboard and tailpiece we cannot speak in the

same terms; the master seems to have accepted the manner of treating

these parts as handed down by preceding generations from Gasparo da

Salo, and thought there was no need for alteration. The design of the

inlaid ornamentation on both these accessories, was, of course, of a

kind with which the house of Stradivari would be identified and the

execution also in accordance. Of the tailpin and pegs, with the

decoration of both, the same may be said.

All these particulars point to considerable time spent in direct

supervision after the preliminary designs had been made by the

principal. This would reduce the available time for direct manual labour

at his disposal. There would occasionally be some time spent in the

discrimination for purchasing of particular choice kinds of pine and

maple, these requiring the closest attention. Whether samples were

brought for Stradivari's inspection by agents or their principals, or

whether the maestro took journeys to particular districts where the

exact kind of wood suitable to his requirements was to be had, we know

not, but there seems to be much probability that the latter was his

mode of obtaining that splendid growth of pine, both in appearance and

tone-producing quality, with which he brought about such beautiful

results. This, when obtained, had to be carefully stored away until such

time as it might be required for immediate use. The cutting down and

sawing up into lengths for different instruments would not be such as a

maker with less patronage would personally engage in; we can therefore

place this aside from the time consuming duties. There is, in the

foregoing, enough and much over for reasonable inference that with a

master, such as Stradivari, having the refined taste and adaptability

for work, there was a considerable amount, if not all, of the merely

mechanical work done according to his command or under his eye. This

would naturally enough increase in proportion as the business connection

grew. There would be in this nothing differing from what has been

habitual with eminent professors in all branches of art; as far back as

Phaedias, Praxitelles and Appelles of the ancient classic Greek period.

Later on it is well known that many of the masterpieces of the

Renaissance period had much work upon them other than that immediately

from the master's own hand. If this were not permissible, the number of

the grandest creations of artistic genius would be most seriously

limited. Raphael and his contemporaries, Rubens and Rembrandt, besides

many other masters, are well known to have had numerous pupils in their

studios engaged in carrying out ideas previously determined upon and

drawn out for their guidance. These assistants were gradually drawn into

the way and habit of thinking of their masters, and on leaving them,

their own individuality or natural tendency uniting with what they had

absorbed of their master's manner, the blending of the two became a

fresh production of style. If we take this as our guide in summing up

the probable amount of help that was drawn upon by Stradivari during his

career, especially that part at which, in our consideration of him and

his works, we had arrived, it cannot possibly lead us far from the

actual facts. Taking into account the known pupils or assistants who

received the benefits of personal instruction from Antonio Stradivari,

they are more numerous than we can affix to the name of any other

master, as it must be borne in mind that Stradivari had initiated a

fresh style, the influence of which was destined to be of a far more

reaching character than any hitherto coming to the front. The

Stradivarian school became the foremost, most numerous and soon was to

be the most imitated, of all. Among the earliest of his pupils (the

precise number or even the names of all will never be known), may be

placed Alexander Gagliano of Naples, working with him about the period

of 1680 and some years later, one or two others of the Gagliano family

may have been workmen in the Stradivari atelier. Lorenzo Guadagnini,

Joannes Battista, his son and Josef of Pavia all claim to have lent a

helping hand and received instruction, and there is nothing in their

work that is in contradiction. The first became a great master of the

Milanese school and was afterwards rivalled by his son, who was more

cosmopolitan and not identified with one place in particular. I cannot

include the names of Montagnana or Gobetti, which have been frequently

referred to by various authors as pupils of Stradivari; a close

examination of their style and workmanship leads to a different fountain

of inspiration, notwithstanding which they both unquestionably were at

one time influenced by the work of the great Cremonese artist as it

arrived in Venice. Of Carlo Bergonzi, a great master, it is a well

established fact that he worked with Stradivari and probably did much

more for him as assistant than is generally acknowledged, but that he

was originally a pupil is not in keeping with the early and varying

patterns which have gone under his name. Further on it will be necessary

to refer to this luminary of the art. We must not forget the two sons of

Stradivari, Franciscus and Omobono, who received their initiation at the

hands of their father and worked with him for many years, carrying on

the business after his decease. Rumour has brought forth another name

as pupil or workman with Stradivari, and whose identification with some

fine specimens of the liutaro's art may yet prove an interesting study.

A relative of the master, we should expect to find his work strongly

tinged with the Stradivarian characteristics. His tickets are said to

have been all removed in very early times after their insertion and that

one only is known to have been preserved intact. Of the great rival--in

public estimation--of Stradivari, Joseph Guarnerius, I.H.S., it can only

be said there is not a single feature in his handiwork, style or tone,

agreeing with the supposition that he at any time was his pupil or

assistant, moreover, having by me distinct evidence of his pupilage of

another maker of a different school, will of course prevent the

inclusion of his name.

The number of pupils and assistants who worked with or under the

supervision of Stradivari in his prime, might, if we knew all, be more

considerable than we should be prepared to expect. The proportion in the

usual course of nature, of those able to single out a path for

themselves, prove their individuality superior to their fellows or

eventually become of great eminence, must of necessity have been

comparatively small. There may have been many working "on and off" under

the eye of the master at different periods who were without ambition or

the talent to rise above the position of humble helpers among their more

talented brethren, born to be assistants only, and, in consequence,

never heard of outside the studio. These, and the before mentioned, must

all have had something to do with the instruments their master was

sending forth into the world; the more clever ones being intrusted with

some responsibility on particular work. It is not impossible to fix upon

the parts the assistants probably would be allowed to work upon. In the

first place, all the designing, drawing out and tracing down of the

pattern on to the mould, or on to the unprepared blocks that were to be

carved into necks, scrolls, or marked out for ribs, would be

Stradivari's.

The different stages succeeding each other would be most likely as

follows--firstly, the master having been commissioned by a wealthy

patron to make of his best pattern and highest finish a quartet of

instruments, he would take from his store of choice pine and sycamore,

which he had taken so much trouble and skill in collecting together,

such pieces that appeared to him suitable for the instruments to be

constructed. The upper and lower tables had previously been hewn or sawn

to size, then the jointed back and front, if both were so, planed

carefully and made ready for the master's work, which would first come

on to the wood as a careful tracing from his original design. Sometimes

the tracing down may have been done by some advanced pupil or competent

assistant. We may fairly assume the presence here of one or two, if not

more, assistants, besides a pupil or improver. One would be selected for

the bow-sawing of the pattern, another afterwards receiving it for

roughly gouging out according to measurements at hand or marked by the

master. Another had meanwhile the bending of the thin slips for the ribs

to the necessary curves, or working down the corner and end blocks that

had been affixed to the mould. Another, if not the same, might have been

carrying out the first stages of the working of the scroll, or perhaps a

very competent and trusty assistant would be allowed, under the eye of

the master, to work on more advanced forms, making ready for the final

or necessary touches of the master hand. The sound holes may have been

traced down and even the upper and lower circular holes bored. Further,

it is not impossible, that after the modelling back and front had been

sufficiently advanced, the glueing and screwing down was intrusted to an

assistant, and even some of the finishing up with glass paper or other

material in use at the time and place, of parts of minor importance.

These are, perhaps, the majority of the details in which the

individuality of the handwork of the master was not obligatory in

evidence.

In summing up what could have been done by other hands than those of the

busy master, it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, unless

we admit its presence, to account for the extremely large output of the

great Cremonese, even when taking fully into the balance his very

industrious habits and extraordinary long working career. Assuming the

above view to be reasonable, the number of new instruments which left

the Stradivari house must have been very large. It is well known that

the master undertook the repairs of musical instruments, which

department would require some personal attention or supervision, even if

actually executed by his assistants or his two sons, Francescus and

Omobono, who, when their father died, were not very young, the first

being sixty-five years of age, and the other fifty-five. They had most

likely worked with their parent for about forty years and must have done

much of making and repairing, that is, crediting them with some of their

father's industrial tendencies. Stradivari had two other sons by his

first wife, Francesca Ferraboschi, one, Giulio, died 1707, aged forty;

the other, Allesandro, in 1732, aged fifty-five. Nothing seems to be

known as to whether they were brought up by their father in his own

craft or not; if they were, there was time for them also to have done

much work with him. There was a son by his second wife, Antonia

Zambelli, who died 1727, aged twenty-four, who under the same

circumstances may have helped. We have thus five sons of Stradivari,

who, if they were all taught the art, may have been working together,

besides other assistants at the same time. Carlo Bergonzi has already

been mentioned, but although he came late into the field, yet there

seems a slight indication that he may have had to supply the place of

others who had departed for the carrying out of their own schemes.

Having so far roughly estimated the kind and amount of work, not

necessarily his own, on the violins that were sent forth by Antonio

Stradivari, we may glance at the particulars of detail that demanded his

handiwork and that solely. That there were keen connoisseurs living at

the time of Stradivari, as also in the previous century and earlier,

there is no room for doubting. Workers in art reduce their inspirations

to tangible forms helped by colour that people may see them and,

comparing them with what may have gone before and have been executed at

the same time, pass judgment on them. In like manner Stradivari, like

other masters before him, knew that his handiwork would be scrutinised

as well as the tone of his instruments. It was therefore obligatory that

purchasers should know his work, that in fact his sign manual should be

always present. Contemporaneous with him were makers, artists, who had

been initiated in the mysteries of the manufacture and application of

the wonderful varnishes which have since by their qualities made them

famous throughout the civilised world. There was nothing, however, in

the material or its application that could, under the closest

examination, be discerned as different to what might be seen on the best

instruments of the Amatis--these must have been numerous at the

time--the Ruggieris or the Venetian masters, but these did not in the

application invariably work up to a certain standard of excellence,

whereas Stradivari always did. There was a consummate beauty of result

in this branch of the liutaro's art known at the time to many, beyond

which it seemed not possible to go. It was, therefore, more in the

construction and workmanship then, that the sign manual was perceptible.

With this view Stradivari seems to have been careful to let the evidence

of no hand but his own be seen in parts that were sure to be closely

scrutinised as evidence.

Standing first perhaps in importance would be the cutting of the sound

holes, the design and careful drawing of these being completed, and cut

in metal--it is said thin copper was used by him--they may have been

mostly traced down by himself on the pine of the upper table prepared

and in readiness to receive it, although this part without much danger

could have been done by an intelligent and experienced assistant. The

cutting and finishing with the thin keen edged knife, however, must be

his, the slightest shaving over the traced line or not quite up to it

would be sufficient to impart a totally different character to the

whole. There is no part of the violin in which the sum total of the

native characteristics and ability are shown to such exactitude as the

cutting of these all important and expressive openings. In those of

Stradivari is to be seen the same firmness of purpose and strict curbing

of the fancy from proceeding too far, or allowing stability to be over

balanced by love of gracefulness, as seen in the designs of his eminent

master. To allow no weak part to be perceptible; strength of line with

sufficient grace, admirable proportion and balance, and yet withal

sufficient expression of mobility and freedom from heaviness were each,

seemingly in turn, given the best attention by the great genius of

Cremona. It is not using extravagant language when they are termed the

eyes of the violin, for it is to these that experienced connoisseurs

turn their attention at once when inspecting a violin of character newly

placed before them. Cut by an Italian, cut by a Frenchman, by a German,

by a nobody in particular or who understood nothing about it, are the

thoughts arising in the mind. Each country has its peculiar and native

rendering of every sound hole that was first designed in Italy. This

tendency to impart their own national characteristics by each native

workman, runs parallel with that in pictorial art in the transferring to

various materials the impressions received after study of the original

or animated reality. To many the sound holes of an Italian gem of the

highest class are but sound holes that are more neatly done or prettier

than usual. To others they will be the expression in that simple form of

an exquisitely acute perception of what will excite pleasurable emotions

with regard to delicately balanced proportions, graceful flow of line,

and freedom from all appearance of effort. That there is much in little

concerning this, is proved by the non-success of all foreign copyists

to give a reproduction of the Italian native touch to these details.

That this is not an overdrawn description, may be seen on a close

comparison between an original Stradivari of almost any period and the

most closely traced, laboriously studied and keenly cut sound holes of

any of the modern imitators. All have failed signally over these two

apparently simple openings on the surface of the upper table.

Notwithstanding this, it may be said there are scarcely two violins

alike in respect of expression of these adornments of the structure,

each instrument is made to convey its own impression, or display its

particular kind of beauty. There is a difference, scarcely to be

measured mathematically, that in one will be suggestive of masculine

strength, while in another it will be exquisite feminine grace.

In none of the imitations of the master are there seen these qualities

expressed in the same degree and kind. It has often been said, and there

is more than a substratum of truth in the remark, that, "to copy a

Stradivari successfully"--of course, in the fullest sense of the

word--"the copyist must be a Stradivari himself." There might,

appropriately, be an addition put to this, namely, that a man who could

work up to the dizzy height of his ambition in this way, would not copy,

but make originals.

Another detail of the workmanship always attended to by the master

himself, was that of the purfling. Much has been said of the wonderful

accuracy of Stradivari's purfling and that as a purfler he stands

unrivalled. This must not be taken in the widest sense, as there have

been, and are living, scores and scores of makers who have cut a rut

round the border of a fiddle as sharply, and inserted the three

conventional lines of dark and light wood as deftly as it could be by

the hand of any man, be he named Amati, Stradivari, Ruggieri, Tononi, or

Montagnana. There is a degree of evenness and keenness of cutting and

clean insertion beyond which it is not possible to go. But there the

imitators come to a full stop. Without the inventive power which will

make this curious, simple, yet wonderful little fillet, aid in giving

the desired expression to the whole work, the imitator is not--as people

say nowadays--in the race. The finishing of the border, the corners and

the delicate and often very elaborate system of curves around the sound

holes, the hollowing of the wings of these latter, and the final

surfacing of both back and front, I have no doubt had Stradivari's

individual attention. All the delicate and small work of the scroll,

perfecting that elegant flow of line and finish of each turn of the

volute, as if everything depended on the exactness of its individuality,

obliterating all marks of the tooling and giving his own impress to the

gouging of the shell and even the completion of the peg-box; then last

and not least, the preparation and application of that pellucid envelope

that was to serve two purposes, utility and enrichment of effect.

With regard to this, much has been written and said about its

incomparable quality, its elasticity, colour and transparency, with

other excellences needless to dilate upon. Summarily taken as a whole,

the simple fact is, that in no respect is his varnish different, or

better than that of his predecessors, the Amatis and masters of the

Brescian school; it had been done before and his most famous

contemporaries were doing it still, and he was in this position for the

simple reason that no better could be done.

If it was not possible for Stradivari to improve upon the varnish of the

Amatis who had preceded him and the masters in the art belonging to the

Brescian school,--among whom may be mentioned Giovanni Maggini, Antonio

Mariani, and the first one to use it on violins, Gasparo da Salo--it was

strictly in accordance with his invariable rule of putting forth his

best that he so dexterously manipulated it, probably both as to its

composition and final application, that faultiness in some respects to

be seen in specimens of other masters is not noticeable in his. Thus, as

is well known, the Brescians, perhaps without exception, were often

very careless regarding the thickness of the film, it being occasionally

of irreproachable evenness, at other times having almost the appearance

of being laid on with a large brush in great haste. On some connoisseurs

this haphazard fulness of treatment, this oft times generously effusive

manner, carried out with a careless consciousness of power, acts as a

charm, inciting to intense admiration the like of which is roused by the

rich, juicy brush of Rembrandt and the masters of the Venetian school of

painters. But this is not the perfect realization of aim with regard to

the envelopment of masterpieces by the old Italian liutaros; in the

instances referred to, and sufficiently numerous, we wonder at the

wealth of material and smile at its manipulation. Antonio Stradivari

would in no wise act thus at any time. To him it was enough that he was

possessor in full of the knowledge of materials, and to deviate from the

good paths pursued by the artistic Amatis, was not to be considered for

a moment; we therefore find that with him the best material was laid

with the utmost skill and care. It must be indeed rare that "frizzling,"

or contraction of the upper surface of the varnish, is to be seen to any

appreciable extent. I do not recollect one instance, while with the

Ruggieris, most of the Venetian school, and a number of makers of lesser

note, it is quite common.

Concerning the colour or variety of tints adopted by Stradivari at most

times, it was most likely done to the requirements of his different

patrons, many having a desire for the rich orange, some, the light red

or "cherry" tint, while others were not content with any than the red or

rich full bodied port wine tint. The simple brown seems to have been

less in demand, as it is during the period under consideration, rather

exceptional. While using the lustrous coverings for his works with

consummate skill, there is one qualification that must not be lost sight

of. Beautiful, refined and artistic in the strictest sense of the term,

Stradivari never gave way to a desire to outbid the rest of the

fraternity for congratulations in respect of gorgeousness, he seems

never to have fallen back upon his reserves in the direction of

intensity of colour. Thus if a finely preserved specimen of his orange

varnish is viewed side by side with one by Joseph Guarnerius, I.H.S.,

the extra degree of fieriness will be on the side of the latter, but it

by no means places Stradivari on a lower level, as the combined

qualities of his work, taken as a sum total, is not reached by any

liutaro of old Italy.

It may be fairly taken as certain that if there was any master having at

command all the necessaries for turning out musical instruments of

matchless superiority, both as to acoustical and artistic qualities, it

was Stradivari, and many connoisseurs would expect to find nothing but

maple used of the richest curl, and that would throw up with delightful

effect the lustrous varnish so carefully laid upon it; but, strangely

enough, his most magnificently curled backs and sides are mixed with a

few that are comparatively plain. A variety of reasons might be assigned

for this, but that which bears the greatest probability about it

is--that the instruments being chiefly made to order, the maple of

richest curl was not always to be had, at least in time for the

construction as required. In other respects these plainer mapled

instruments are fully equal to anything that came from his hands. Of the

proper tone-giving pine he seems never to have been short; there it is,

always of beautiful growth, having, like his own handiwork, both

delicacy and strength and of a general appearance such as would attract

the eye of the veriest tyro in the liutaro's art. How many imitators of

the great manipulator have looked at this growth of pine and wondered

where the old master obtained it! and how he knew that it possessed the

proper qualifications for his purpose. Swiss pine of course! obtained

from the lower parts of the forests of the Alps, is an immediate loud

response, and cut only from the south or sunniest side of the particular

tree when found of course.

This idea was started in the early part of this century in books on the

violin, professing to tell the reader all about it or nearly so, and he

had only to go, get the stuff, and make Stradivari violins, in fact with

the addition of the amount of scientific knowledge of the subject

peculiar to modern imitators, he would make "old Strad" "take a back

seat." This has been often tried by would-be "Strads," "Guarneris," or

"Bergonzis," and full of specious promises that if you will but purchase

their wares you be rewarded for your pains by being possessor of

everything good that they could endow the instrument with. Keep it,

persevere, and the precious qualities will come; some were daring enough

to assert that they were already there, if even your mental vision was

so obtuse as not to perceive it, absurd prejudice was the cause of this

they said, oblivious to the fact that the best musicians of Stradivari's

time used the violins fresh from the atelier of the master perfectly

new, expressing their unbounded admiration for their beautiful acoustic

properties or "pleasurable sounds."

Is the like said of new violins at the present time? These imitators,

some of them might be with perfect truth termed forgers, are legion, as

in the case of everything that is of a high standard of excellence and

which makes acquisition desirable. These artificers had their day, so

far as forcing their imitations upon the credulous and unwary could be

accomplished, and others have replaced them, yet there aloft still sits

the grand master upon his high eminence, unapproached, with the whole

world clamouring and struggling for the possession of what in the

earnestness of his purpose was only his everyday work.

Before leaving the imitators and forgers, for they are distinct one from

the other, the first simply taken being honest, the other not, it may be

as well to refer as briefly as possible to the general aspect as

afforded by such specimens of Stradivari's art that remain with us after

fairly constant usage during the generations that have passed since his

decease. Most connoisseurs and dealers are well acquainted with the

appearance of a "Strad" of fine model, work and varnish that has done

its duty in former times, and is yet able and willing to answer all

requirements of the present day and many to come. If the instrument has

not been hidden and forgotten in the cabinet of some deceased collector,

but has been handed down from one player to another, kept in healthy

exercise, not meddled with, muddled, and maddened by the numerous

would-be improvers, bridge regulators, sound post agitators and varnish

vivifiers, then--it will probably present an appearance of what is

called handsome wear, or as a writer has termed it, "adorned, not

injured, by a century's fair wear."

Striking the eye first will be the varnish that has been chipped off

from the back chiefly, often from a large space of a rough triangular

form; the front being usually more smoothly denuded of its lustrous

envelope. This chipping away of the varnish from the maple has been

effected a long time ago, and is the result of a custom in olden times

of hanging the instrument after use on a peg attached to the wall, or

may be the interior of a cabinet. Fiddle-cases seem to have been used

almost solely for travelling purposes. They are now in general use as

the best means of preservation against damage and a good resting place

at all times. During the last century there were scores and scores of

makers in Italy who were ready, willing to, and did turn out excellent

instruments with fine, artistical and acoustical properties, but the

race has died out and their remaining works are of daily increasing

value, and consequently much under lock and key, out of harm's way as

much as possible. This old habit of hanging up violins not wanted for

the moment was, as a matter of course, effected with a slight bang or

two each time, and a corresponding cost, small or large, according to

the blow to the top layer of varnish most highly charged with colour.

Each instrument used in this way will declare to the sufficiently acute

observer, its course of handling and even the peculiarities to some

extent of the owner; for it will be seen that the chippings give

indication of different degrees of energy or hurry, when the violin has

come in contact with the more or less hard surface of the wall.

It must be borne in mind that the times referred to were prior to the

introduction of wall-papers; the good, old-fashioned panelling of oak or

hard wood, often of bold design, shattered or nicked away much of the

old, delicate and precious varnish used for enveloping the works of the

Italian masters. All these constantly recurring slight collisions by

degrees brought about the results that have been defined by some as

picturesque wear or accidental adornment, if such a thing be reasonable.

Besides this there was going on the wear caused by handling by one or

another of players, rough or mild, contact with the garments, especially

the sleeves, all being larger and looser than are fashionable at the

present time. The action of these would be more gentle if more

continuous. It is noticeable at the lower end of the back of the violin,

which is often worn away much below the penetration of the varnish, the

corners being rounded down and if rather protuberant, even losing their

original character. The upper table of pine being incapable of equal

resistance to the destroying influence, wears away sooner, also the

border at the lower end and at both sides of the tail-piece--for the old

performers placed their chins on the contrary side to what is thought

best now--and the right upper shoulder where the palm of the hand and

part of the wrist is apt to work, too often, against the edge. We thus

see when a handsome, fairly worn specimen of Stradivari's work comes

under our notice, the different pieces of tell-tale evidence, varying of

course in degree with each instrument. Now all this must have been going

on during the time the master's works were being sent out to parts of

Italy and to other countries. It had been progressing and was showing

the onward march of Father Time in the instruments left by the Brescian

makers a century before.

As before observed, the varnish of Stradivari has, often as not, been

worn, chipped or cracked off in, as some fanciers still call it, a

picturesque manner or adornment, although from the highest prices being

given for those specimens that have the least of it, the taste seems to

be growing healthily in favour of perfection of preservation as far as

is possible.

It would be out of reason to suppose that full consideration of the

subject was omitted by a genius with such far reaching mental vision as

Stradivari. That he gave all the necessary study and forethought to the

effects of ordinary wear and such as was occasionally going on within

his knowledge, there is evidence enough. He saw how the delicate work of

his master, Nicolas Amati, was rapidly disappearing under sometimes

rough and too often ruffianly usage. It was not in his power to prevent

or interfere with this by any peculiarity of construction or quality of

the varnish used by him. But this he doubtless knew--that the generally

substantial work and total absence of any weak point of detail in design

and execution was all that an artist could do. This strength shown over

all of Stradivari's designs, even from the commencement, shows that in

his grasp of the highest scale of requirement he was also anticipatory

and in this wise, that he followed up the self evident principle in art,

that the best combination of forms, proportions and masses will answer

best for their permanence.

The numismatist knows full well how, on the coins used in various

countries, the masters of basso-relievo had concentrated their skill on

the subject. The balance of projection and depression for good and

proper effect under different situations of light and shade, or even

independently of them on occasion--is of paramount importance in all

branches of art in their widest range. The omission of proper thoughtful

attention in this direction is one of the obstacles to success among

copyists in any direction of art. In architecture the imitator or

restorer of some early English mouldings has often made ignominious

failures from the non-application of knowledge of this kind: just a

trifling variation from the original while in progress being deemed of

little consequence, but when finished and left for exhibition under the

truth testing rays of the sun, the qualities that should have been there

are, as the saying is, "conspicuous by their absence." In full view of

the above and with an intelligence unsurpassable, Antonio Stradivari so

arranged his forms and masses in construction that under fair usage and

wearing down of the projecting parts, the original beauty of the whole

should be retained as long as possible. A fine Stradivari much worn

still retains its air of distinction, and very much of its material must

have disappeared under bad treatment to make it beyond recognition

almost at a glance.

There can be very little question of there being more than mere

admiration for the appearance. Simply viewed, there is the spice of

romance in connection with it, the history is written in language more

or less intelligible of the knocks and bruises inflicted, unwillingly in

most instances, but not invariably so. And here attention may perhaps be

appropriately drawn in these pages to what has been asserted by a few,

very few, dealers and others, whose general intelligence should have

been a guarantee against the dissemination of utter nonsense and which

has even been in print! that--just think of this--Antonio Stradivari,

the acknowledged master liutaro of Cremona in his own day, and of whose

growing fame no one can foretell the limits--actually imitated wear and

tear of varnish on his violins. I have not the print at hand, and so

cannot give the exact words in which this scum from the boilings of a

distorted imagination was conveyed; nor point to the first unfortunate

who let it flow abroad. In all probability it came from the same old

source, a desire to lift up to a high level worthless imitations of the

master, confuse the public mind so as to make it more and more difficult

to tell "t'other from which."

A fine specimen, and well known, of Stradivari's art was once lying on a

table before me. An amateur of considerable attainments and honesty of

purpose then present was dilating upon its many beauties and fine

preservation; he, I soon found, had by some means become infected with

the absurd notion of the varnish having been artistically pecked away by

the original maker! Just fancy this--Raphael slitting a hole in his

chef-d'oeuvre to make it look old--Michael Angelo chipping some bits

from the ceiling of the Sistine just before the scaffolding was removed,

or Phidias snapping off a limb and browning the raw surface to please

future connoisseurs.

They might all have done this with an equal deficiency of reason and

consistency if we allow for one moment any possibility of the genius of

such a stamp as that of Antonio Stradivari descending to such depravity.

Those who have lent themselves to this incongruous notion, hastily

generalising from insufficient particulars, have strangely overlooked

the fact that the same kind of chipping is seen on the violins of other

masters, Joseph Guarnerius, Carlo Bergonzi, and others of the Cremonese

and Venetian School, besides--going far back--the older ones of Brescia

and Pesaro, any number in fact over all Italy.

Antonio Stradivari · 第 5 / 9 章