So much said concerning the general conditions under which the craft
of violin-making reached such splendid excellence, the attention of the
reader is invited to the greatest masters of the Cremona school.
"The instrument on which he played
Was in Cremona's workshops made,
By a great master of the past,
Ere yet was lost the art divine;
Fashioned of maple and of pine,
That in Tyrolean forests vast
Had rooked and wrestled with the blast.
"Exquisite was it in design,
A marvel of the lutist's art,
Perfect in each minutest part;
And in its hollow chamber thus
The maker from whose hand it came
Had written his unrivaled name,
'Antonius Stradivarius.'"
The great artist whose work is thus made the subject of Longfellow's
verse was born at Cremona in 1644. His renown is beyond that of all
others, and his praise has been sounded by poet, artist, and musician.
He has received the homage of two centuries, and his name is as little
likely to be dethroned from its special place as that of Shakespeare
or Homer. Though many interesting particulars are known concerning
his life, all attempt has failed to obtain any connected record of the
principal events of his career. Perhaps there is no need, for there
is ample reason to believe that Antonius Stradiuarius lived a quiet,
uncheckered, monotonous existence, absorbed in his labor of making
violins, and caring for nothing in the outside world which did not touch
his all-beloved art. Without haste and without rest, he labored for
the perfection of the violin. To him the world was a mere workshop. The
fierce Italian sun beat down and made Cremona like an oven, but it was
good to dry the wood for violins. On the slopes of the hills grew grand
forests of maple, pine, and willow, but he cared nothing for forest
or hillside except as they grew good wood for violins. The vineyards
yielded rich wine, but, after all, the main use of the grape was that it
furnished the spirit wherewith to compound varnish. The sheep, ox, and
horse were good for food, but still more important because from them
came the hair of the bow, the violin strings, and the glue which held
the pieces together. It was through this single-eyed devotion to
his life-work that one great maker was enabled to gather up all the
perfections of his predecessors, and stand out for all time as the
flower of the Cremonese school and the master of the world. George
Eliot, in her poem, "The Stradivari," probably pictures his life
accurately:
"That plain white-aproned man, who stood at work,
Patient and accurate full fourscore years,
Cherished his sight and touch by temperance;
And since keen sense is love of perfectness,
Made perfect violins, the needed paths
For inspiration and high mastery."
M. Fetis, in his notice of the greatest of violin-makers, summarizes his
life very briefly. He tells us the life of Antonius Stradiuarius was
as tranquil as his calling was peaceful. The year 1702 alone must have
caused him some disquiet, when during the war the city of Cremona was
taken by Marshal Villeroy, on the Imperialist side, retaken by Prince
Eugene, and finally taken a third time by the French. That must have
been a parlous time for the master of that wonderful workshop whence
proceeded the world's masterpieces, though we may almost fancy the
absorbed master, like Archimedes when the Romans took Syracuse, so
intent on his labor that he hardly heard the din and roar of battle,
till some rude soldier disturbed the serene atmosphere of the room
littered with shavings and strewn with the tools of a peaceful craft.
Polledro, not many years ago first violin at the Chapel Royal of Turin,
who died at a very advanced age, declared that his master had known
Stradiuarius, and that he was fond of talking about him. He was, he
said, tall and thin, with a bald head fringed with silvery hair, covered
with a cap of white wool in the winter and of cotton in the summer. He
wore over his clothes an apron of white leather when he worked, and, as
he was always working, his costume never varied. He had acquired what
was regarded as wealth in those days, for the people of Cremona were
accustomed to say "As rich as Stradiuarius." The house he occupied is
still standing in the Piazza Roma, and is probably the principal place
of interest in the old city to the tourists who drift thitherward.
The simple-minded Cremonese have scarcely a conception to-day of the
veneration with which their ancient townsman is regarded by the musical
connoisseurs of the world. It was with the greatest difficulty that they
were persuaded a few years ago, by the efforts of Italian and French
musicians, to name one street Stradiuarius, and another Amati. Nicholas
Amati, the greatest maker of his family, was the instructor of Antonius
Stradiuarius, and during the early period of the latter artist the
instruments could hardly be distinguished from those of Amati. But, in
after-years, he struck out boldly in an original line of his own, and
made violins which, without losing the exquisite sweetness of the Amati
instruments, possessed far more robustness and volume of tone, reaching,
indeed, a combination of excellences which have placed his name high
above all others. It may be remarked of all the Cremona violins of the
best period, whether Amati, Stradiuarius, Guarnerius, or Steiner,
that they are marked no less by their perfect beauty and delicacy of
workmanship than by their charm of tone. These zealous artisans were not
content to imprison the soul of Ariel in other form than the lines
and curves of ideal grace, exquisitely marked woods, and varnish as of
liquid gold. This external beauty is uniformly characteristic of the
Cremona violins, though shape varies in some degree with each maker.
Of the Stradiuarius violins it may be said, before quitting the
consideration of this maker, that they have fetched in latter years
from one thousand to five thousand dollars. The sons and grandsons of
Antonius were also violin-makers of high repute, though inferior to the
chief of the family.
The name of Joseph Guarnerius del Jesû is only less in estimation than
that of Antonius Stradiuarius, of whom it is believed by many he was a
pupil or apprentice, though of this there is no proof. Both his uncle
Andreas and his cousin Joseph were distinguished violin-makers, but the
Guarnerius patronymic has now its chiefest glory from that member known
as "del Jesû." This great artist in fiddle-making was born at Cremona in
the year 1683, and died in 1745. He worked in his native place till
the day of his death, but in his latter years Joseph del Jesû became
dissipated, and his instruments fell off somewhat in excellence of
quality and workmanship. But his _chef d'oeuvres_ yield only to those
of the great Stradiuarius in the estimation of connoisseurs. Many of the
Guarnerius violins, it is said, were made in prison, where the artist
was confined for debt, with inferior tools and material surreptitiously
obtained for him by the jailer's daughter, who was in love with the
handsome captive. These fruits of his skill were less beautiful in
workmanship, though marked by wonderful sweetness and power of tone.
Mr. Charles Reade, a great violin amateur as well as a novelist, says of
these "prison" fiddles, referring to the comical grotesqueness of their
form: "Such is the force of genius, that I believe in our secret hearts
we love these impudent fiddles best, they are so full of _chic_."
Paganini's favorite was a Guarnerius del Jesû, though he had no less
than seven instruments of the greatest Cremona masters. Spohr, the
celebrated violinist and composer, offered to exchange his Strad, one
of the finest in the world, for a Guarnerius, in the possession of Mr.
Mawkes, an English musician.
Carlo Bergonzi, the pupil of Antonius Stradiuarius, was another of the
great Cremona makers, and his best violins have commanded extraordinary
prices. He followed the model of his master closely, and some of his
instruments can hardly be distinguished in workmanship and tone from
genuine Strads. Something might be said, too, of Jacob Steiner,
who, though a German (born about 1620), got the inspiration for his
instruments of the best period so directly from Cremona that he ought
perhaps to be classified with the violin-makers of this school. His
famous violins, known as the Elector Steiners, were made under peculiar
circumstances. Almost heartbroken by the death of his wife, he retired
to a Benedictine monastery with the purpose of taking holy orders.
But the art-passion of his life was too strong, and he made in his
cloister-prison twelve instruments, on which he lavished the most
jealous care and attention. These were presented to the twelve Electors
of Germany, and their extraordinary merit has caused them to rank high
among the great violins of the world. A volume might be easily compiled
of anecdotes concerning violins and violin-makers. The vicissitudes
and changes of ownership through which many celebrated instruments have
passed are full of romantic interest. Each instrument of the greatest
makers has a pedigree, as well authenticated as those of the great
masterpieces of painting, though there have been instances where a Strad
or a Guarnerius has been picked up by some strange accident for a mere
trifle at an auction. There have been many imitations of the genuine
Cremonas palmed off, too, on the unwary at a high price, but the
connoisseur rarely fails to identify the great violins almost instantly.
For, aside from their magical beauty of tone, they are made with the
greatest beauty of form, color, and general detail. So much has been
said concerning the greatest violin-makers, in view of the fact that
coincident with the growth of a great school of art-manufacture in
violins there also sprang up a grand school of violin-playing; for,
indeed, the one could hardly have existed without the other.