VIOLINS AT MIRECOURT, MITTENWALD, AND MARKNEUKIRCHEN
MIRECOURT
Mirecourt in Lorraine has the glory of being associated from so early
a date as 1566 with the Cremona workshops.
Andrew Amati, who made six small fiddles for Charles IX. about that
time, employed Nicolas Renauld of Nancy, who was a pupil of the
celebrated Mirecourt lutist Tywersus, to assist him in finishing
these important court orders, which did so much to establish the
supremacy of the “petit violon” over the crowd of competing viols
which then held the popular ear, and, as we have seen, died very hard.
The great princes of Lorraine occupied a castle of pleasure called
Ravenel, at a short distance from Mirecourt.
These accomplished noblemen, touched with Florentine culture, often
made excursions into Lombardy, and delighted in the refinements of
the Italian princedoms and duchies.
They brought back with them pictures, ironwork, laces, musical
instruments.
Tywersus, their private lute-maker, was deeply influenced by the
work and models of the early Amatis, and from the school of Tywersus
came Nicolas Renauld, Jean Medard, and Nicolas Medard. When Amati
left Paris, whither he had gone to present his violins in person to
Charles IX., he left behind him Nicolas Renauld, who slipped into
the lucrative post of luthier to his French Majesty, and we find his
friend and co-worker Medard installed in the same fat office under
the Grand Monarque, Louis XIV., who, with his expensive mistresses,
certainly spared no money or patronage to secure those who could
in any way minister to the extravagant court pomp and artistic
amusements of the Pompadour and the Petit Trianon.
Meanwhile Mirecourt, in the heart of the Vosges mountains, with easy
access to the grand timbers of their ancient forests, within beck
and call of Lombardy, and in close touch with the great Italian
fiddle-makers, Mirecourt long held supremacy as one of, if not the
most important mart of fiddle manufacture.
It shared with Mittenwald and Markneukirchen the honour of supplying
that rapidly growing violin market which was now springing up, and
whilst Cremona made largely for home consumption and a few foreign
courts, Mirecourt undertook the more modest but equally useful duty
of multiplying Cremona school violins, which circulated far and wide
throughout the French provinces, and frequently reached our own
shores; indeed the fiddles often passed for Cremonas.
The popularity of these Cremona replicas brought on that inevitable
deterioration in quality which always follows over-rapid production
and cheap wares, and at one time Mirecourt, in spite of its elaborate
industry, was fast becoming a byword for bad fiddles. Happily the
danger was seen and speedily checked, and Mirecourt now stands out
as perhaps the greatest and most excellent emporium of modern violin
manufacture.
All who wish to know what can be known, go to Mirecourt, just as
people who study art go to Rome and Florence, or people who study the
fashions go to Paris.
To Mirecourt we owe Rambaux, who was born there in 1802 and died
there only in 1870.
Francis and George Chanot both came from there.
The Lupôt family are claimed as natives of Mirecourt, although the
greatest of them, Nicolas, whose violins run some of the finest
specimens of Cremona very hard, was a native of Stuttgard. His father
was a Frenchman, and came from Mirecourt. All his traditions belong
to Mirecourt, and these, as we all know, he carried with him to
Paris, where he died in 1824, and was succeeded by Gand.
The names of Maucotel, Medard, Menegand, Silvestre, and Deragay, and
above all Vuillaume, must always shed an imperishable lustre upon the
little town in the Vosges mountains.
Every one of the Vuillaumes, eight in number, including the immortal
Jean Baptiste, were born at Mirecourt. Two settled at Brussels, three
at Paris, but all the others lived and died at Mirecourt.
William Ebsworth Hill was careful to send his sons to this
celebrated school of violin art, and we may be sure that they did
not come away until they had possessed themselves of everything that
Mirecourt had to teach the violin maker or the connoisseur.
M. Thibouville Lamy of Mirecourt, who has trade branches in Paris and
London, manufactures a violin at about 3s. 10d. cost price, selling
at about 4s. 6d.; but Markneukirchen probably leads in cheapness and
quantity, if not quality, turning out quite playable fiddles for the
modest figure of £1 to £2, 10s.
The best Mirecourt fiddles will fetch from £6 to £10.
The Grand and Bemardel prices range from £16 to £20.
The ever-increasing demands for “trade fiddles” of all kinds, as
distinguished from the solo violins reserved for the use of virtuosi,
has called forth an abundance of fair makers beyond the limits of
Mirecourt, Mittenwald, and Markneukirchen.
In England it is enough to mention such names as Hill & Sons;
Duncan of Glasgow; the Chanots, London and Manchester; the late
Furber, London; in Paris, Bernardel, Silvestre, Germain, Audinot,
and Chardon; in Vienna, Zach, Bittner, Lembök, Voigt, Guttermann,
Rampfler; in Munich, Sprenger; in Frankfort-on-Maine, Lenk; in
Breslau, Liebich; in Brussels, Darche; in Lille, Hel; in Milan,
Marchetti; in Turin, Bros. Guadagnini; in Cremona, Ceruti; and for
further general information the reader may consult the tolerably
exhaustive catalogue index of makers at the end of this volume,
for the bulk of which I am indebted to the studious and admirable
labours of Miss Stainer. Her booklet is entitled “Violin Makers,” and
it forms one of the music primers of an educational series issued by
Novello & Co.
MITTENWALD.
In old days Mittenwald, quaintest of Bavarian towns, with its
frescoed houses and its picturesque river-side, for it is on the
banks of the dear Isar, overshadowed by the Wetterstein and Kurwändel
mountains, was a town of considerable importance from very early days
as the halting-place for the Romans on their way to the Danube.
It long retained its peculiar caravanserai character, which resulted
in the establishment of the handy mart or Mittenwald fair, for which
in more recent times the place was chiefly famous. After the removal
of the fair to Bozen, the importance of Mittenwald began to decline;
trade and commerce suddenly seemed to have made unto themselves
wings, until one Matthias Klotz, who in his boyhood is said to have
been apprenticed to no less a person than the great Nicolas Amati,
settled at Mittenwald, and wrote up outside his house: “Matthias
Klotz, Geigen Macher, im jahr 1684.” The prime hazel and maple, to
be found in the Wetterstein hills, is of splendid quality, and the
woods, then close up to the town, were full of old trees.
Thither, before the days of Matthias, was wont to come a dreamy,
ill-regulated sort of person, who excited the curiosity, and perhaps
ridicule, of the villagers by tapping their trees with a hammer and
then putting his ear close to the wood to hear the sound.
They thought he was mad, and he did go mad from worry and want, but
the sanest thing he ever did was to tap those trees and listen to the
sound.
His name was Jacob Stainer.
Matthias Klotz was only nineteen when he came to Mittenwald, but by
this time the Mittenwalders, who had heard how the eccentric tramp
with the hammer had gone back to Absam and made the place famous by
his fiddles, were prepared to receive the young workman with favour
and hospitality, for they hoped he might do something of the kind for
Mittenwald.
They were not mistaken. One year before Klotz arrived at Mittenwald,
Stainer had died incoherent and insane at Absam, and now that the
greatest of German makers was dead, Mittenwald was soon destined to
become noted in its turn for its fiddles.
It is generally affirmed that Klotz was a pupil of Stainer. Certainly
his relations with Nicolas Amati are not very well defined. The
probabilities are that he was a pupil of both--in the sense of being
familiar with their work. The fact that his violins are sometimes
mistaken for Stainer, points to the strong Absam influence which
was upon him--it could hardly be otherwise--whilst the tendency
noticeable in the fiddles of his son Sebastian, who certainly did
visit Cremona, to bring down the model flatter than was fashionable
at this time, indicates that the firm at all events reflected the
later Amati model of Nicolas, who died the very year Klotz came to
Mittenwald.
Had Matthias or Sebastian Klotz attended to the methods either of
Stainer or Amati more carefully, they would have observed that wood
cut in spring with the sap in it was not calculated to last like
the drier autumn timber. Whether from haste or ignorance, the Klotz
wood, especially that used by Matthias and Sebastian, is sometimes
found to be worm-eaten, but Sebastian’s fiddles are much esteemed.
His brothers, George and Egidius, and his nephew, Joseph, son of
Egidius, all made fiddles of the same type--varnish running from
yellow to brown, and laid on rather more lavishly than was the habit
of Matthias, founder of the firm.
The Mittenwald industry, although now less prolific than that of
Markneukirchen, preceded it in point of time, and undoubtedly it was
through Bavarian Mittenwald that the Cremona influence reached Saxony.
Master Reiter, whose teacher was Johan Vauchel of Wurzburg, is now
the most prominent Mittenwald maker, and Herr Neuner, who was a pupil
of Vuillaume, directs the school and factory. The school instructs
about twenty boys, and is under Government.
Out of eighteen hundred Mittenwalders, three hundred are
fiddle-makers.
The place provides from fifteen to twenty thousand instruments per
annum, including zithers and guitars. I will not say that Herr
Reiter, who is an artist versed in the old secrets and the old
enthusiasms, is personally responsible for the “trade fiddles” that
annually pour from the Mittenwald workshops. He himself has made
comparatively few fiddles, but he supervises them all, and remarked
to a visitor the other day, “I, Master Reiter, never let one go out
of my hands that has not been thoroughly tested, and I have sent out
into the world, to Russia, to America, Athens, and where not, some
two hundred violins and twenty-five ’cellos, besides having repaired
some four hundred others.”
MARKNEUKIRCHEN.
Quiet resting-places, secluded valleys of the Tyrol, mountains of
Saxony!--Mittenwald, Markneukirchen, Mirecourt; sleepy Italian
towns!--Brescia, Cremona, once provincial villages like Mirecourt,
far from the stir of mighty cities!--such retreats seem to have been
ever favourable to the development of violin manufacture. Something,
too, of simple and almost _naïve_ religious sentiment has entered
into the production of the earlier violins, most of which were, after
all, chiefly intended for the sanctuary, Catholic or Protestant.
The arts and craftsbook of the Worshipful Guild of Violin-makers
of Markneukirchen, 1677 to 1772, has lately been unearthed and
translated by the many-sided and indefatigable Heron Allen, and it
throws a kind of sudden flashlight upon the origin of an industrial
centre which has since become one of the most famous emporiums of
violins “made in Germany.”
Here we read how a mere handful of masters and workmen went out from
kith and kin into a wilderness--some would say a paradise--for the
sake of worshipping God in their own way--that is to say, the new
reformed Lutheran way. They settled, to the number of sixty-six,
about the year 1627, at the retired and mountainous village of
Markneukirchen. The old book which records their uneventful annals
begins characteristically enough with, “In the name of the Holy
Trinity, Amen”; and then follow the names of twelve families, the
principals being Reicher, Hans George, Polles, Gaspar, Schönfeldes,
and Gaspar Hopf; and from this modest nucleus, emigrants, chiefly
from Graslitz, grew the famous Guild, which by-and-by was responsible
for scattering abroad violins innumerable, labelled with every known
name, and of quality good, bad, and indifferent; for it is a notable
peculiarity of the Markneukirchen makers that, whilst they were
compelled by the rules of the Guild to produce diploma instruments
and others of recognised quality, the cost of production has got
down as low as about four shillings, and a very playable instrument,
labelled Stradivari, is actually sold for a sum not much above that
astonishing cost price.
Many of these workers were all-round men, and did not confine
themselves to fiddle-making. Thus, Carl Frederick Jacob was
carpenter, locksmith, and general instrument maker; one Andrea
Gher, 1587, was a schoolmaster; whilst Gasper Reichel was a barber.
Gottfried Pitz was admitted to the Guild on easy terms, because he
had served his country as a cavalry soldier.
The master-workers were mostly people of some substance. They had to
pay a tax of one florin on being admitted to mastership; but sons of
a master were admitted on a reduced fee of five florins.
Most of the masters were expected to have a decent house, with a
room large enough to entertain the Guild with their wives at a
banquet on their installation. As this cost some money--there were
various ways of lightening the burden when the candidate happened
to be a desirable addition to the Guild--he was allowed to pay in
instalments, or part was remitted by favour. A popular means of
effecting economy was to _propose_ to marry the daughter of a master;
that at least staved off payment. The apprentices often got in cheap
that way.
Hans Adam Narlitzer, who “intended” to marry a master’s daughter, was
admitted on reduced terms, on the understanding that, if the match
did not come off, he was to pay up in full.
One Kretchman also “intended” to marry the youngest daughter of Hans
Martin Schönfeldes; also Johann Christian Envel, in 1761, had “half
a mind” to marry the youngest daughter of Reichel, and was admitted
for ten thalers; but in case he could not make up his mind to marry
the girl, _or any other master’s daughter_, he would have to pay
thirty-one thalers. In no case is it _recorded_ that any of these
gentlemen failed to marry as per contract; the masters’ daughters
probably took very good care of that, or would have sufficient
influence to suppress the fact of their rejection.
With the spread of the Reformed opinions, there at first arose
a certain demand for violins in the new churches; but the rigid
Lutherans soon smelled the odour of abuse and reversion to Romanism,
and discouraged any approach to ornate services, or an over-supply
of instrumental accompaniment. A decree that the violins used in
Church should be reduced in numbers naturally spread consternation
throughout the little country town; but the growing demand for
stringed instruments of good quality for secular bands soon
counteracted the effect of sectarian bigotry and clerical parsimony;
and when one Joseph Haydn, bandmaster to Prince Esterhazy in Vienna,
practically founded the modern orchestra with its symphony, and
created the modern oratorio and quartet, the demand for violins
and basses led to a prodigious development of the Markneukirchen
industry; and as the masters not only had ready access to the best
Cremonese models, but were surrounded by some of the finest maple
timber in the world, felled in forests full of seasoned trees
hundreds of years old, the fame of the Markneukirchen makers soon
spread throughout Europe.
At Mittenwald a similar community flourished, and the crop of German
instruments made, and still made, by these enterprising artificers
have flooded all the orchestras of the world, providing them with
samples of every maker, from Gaspar and Maggini to Stradivari,
the Guarneri, Bergonzi, and Guadagnini. The Mittenwald makers owed
their inspiration chiefly to Egidius Klotz, pupil of the great
Stainer. They were as famous for their fine hazel-fir timber as the
Markneukircheners were for their maple; it was also through the
Mittenwalders that the Cremona methods filtered readily into the more
northern region--Markneukirchen, Prague, Nuremburg, Wurzburg, and
Franken.
The increased demand for instruments resulted necessarily in a
tendency to deterioration, which did not escape the attention of the
Guild, and rigid rules were drawn up, called “Beneficent Mandates for
the Suppression of Abuses.”
Every master had to prove himself equal to producing one masterpiece
as a sample of his skill, though it was freely admitted that a cheap
demand involved a cheap type of instrument, which could not be
expected to rival the diploma standard of tone and finish.
The quaint record of the Markneukirchen arts and craftsbook ends with
the year 1772, and with the words “_Deo Gloria_.” Since that date the
names of Reichel, Schuster, and Paulus have all been _en evidence_
at various European Exhibitions as medallists and exhibitors of
distinction; but, after a great fire in 1840, a good many families
left the town, and thus the old centre became like a flower that had
overblown itself, and began to obey the inevitable law by which a
mature centre distributes itself gradually, losing as it were its own
central wealth in its circumference, as the seeds of the dandelion
get blown abroad over all lands.