CHAPTER VIII.

A LIST OF BOW MAKERS.

A noticeable feature in the following list is the great preponderance

of French makers. Curiously enough the list of bow makers commences

with:

ADAM, JEAN DOMINIQUE. He was born at Mirecourt in 1795, and died at

the age of sixty-nine. He is said by some to have been the son of one

Jean Adams, a bow maker of the eighteenth century. How far this may

be true is impossible to say. The difference in the spelling of the

name may not be a great matter, but there is no explanation

forthcoming. The majority of his bows are very commonplace, but

occasionally he "made an effort" and produced something out of his

ordinary run, and these he invariably stamped ADAM. Of these the

octagonal sticks are most highly prized.

ALLEN, SAMUEL. Born in Cornwall in 1858; was originally intended for

a schoolmaster. Worked at several mechanical trades and being

musical, he naturally turned his attention to fiddles, and

ultimately, bows. Messrs. W. E. Hill and Sons employed him as a bow

maker for several years. Although he held a high position in their

workshop his independent nature was not satisfied until 1891, when he

set up in business on his own account as a violin and bow maker and

repairer.

BAROUX, Paris. Early half of the present century. Occasionally made

some very excellent bows, but the general average of his work is only

moderate.

BAUSCH AND SON, Leipsic. Middle of present century. The bows issued

by this firm are valued highly in Germany. They are well made and, as

a rule, strong.

BAZIN, GUSTAVE, Mirecourt. A very capable workman, some of his 'cello

bows are excellent.

BETTS. Born 1755, died 1823. Worked in London as a violin maker and

dealer. The bows bearing his name were made by Edward Dodd and W.

Tubbs.

BRAGLIA, ANTONIO, Modena. Beginning of this century. I have not seen

any of this maker's work.

BROWN, JAMES (Junior), London. Born 1786, died 1860. A clever maker,

worked much for the trade, but turned out some good sticks, stamped

with his name.

CHANOT, ADOLPH, Paris. Brother of the late Georges Chanot of Wardour

Street. Born about 1828. Worked with Henry of Paris and has turned

out some magnificent sticks. His death, which took place suddenly, at

the age of twenty-nine, was due to an aneurism. Had he lived he would

undoubtedly have taken a high position in the esteem of bow wielders.

DARBEY, GEORGE, Bristol. Died March, 1921.

DODD, EDWARD, London and Sheffield. Born 1705, died 1810. One seldom

finds a bow bearing his name as he was mostly employed by others,

such as Betts, Forster, Norris, etc.

DODD, JAMES. Worked in London in 1864; it is doubtful if any of his

work can be identified as he almost invariably worked for others.

DODD, JOHN. Born in 1752, died in 1839. This was _the_ English

bow-maker _par excellence_. For fuller details of his life and work

see Chapter VI.

DODD, THOMAS, London, 1786-1823. He differed from the others of this

name inasmuch as he did not make for others but employed others to

make for him.

EURY, Paris. Early part of the present century. His bows are

universally esteemed, some of them being exceptionally fine. He did

not always stamp his bows, but when he did it was generally under the

"lapping" or, as some say, the "whipping."

FONCLAUSE, JOSEPH. Born in 1800, died in 1865. He was an excellent

maker. He first learnt the art of bow-making from Pajeot at

Mirecourt, and ultimately worked for J. B. Vuillaume at Paris. Later

on he started on his own account. His bows from this period are

usually marked with his own name.

FORSTER, WILLIAM. A noted English violin maker who was born near the

middle of the last century. One now and then meets with a bow bearing

his name. These are all the work of E. Dodd, W. Tubbs, or some other

skilled workmen in his employ.

GAND AND BERNARDEL, Paris. A modern firm whose staff make some

remarkably fine bows. They are mostly stamped with the name of the

firm; but as they make bows to the order of various other firms there

are many examples of their work either unstamped or bearing

fictitious names.

HARMAND. Worked in Mirecourt about 1835. Made some fairly good bows.

HENRY. Born in 1812 at Mirecourt where he first learnt his craft. He

worked there till his twenty-fifth year, when he went to Paris. Here

he was employed by Chanot first, and later, by Peccatte. When

Peccatte left Paris, Henry entered into partnership with Simon,

another workman in Peccatte's employ who had succeeded to the

latter's Paris shop. This partnership lasted till 1851. He then

worked alone. He was a magnificent workman and has produced some

splendid bows. I have in mind a 'cello bow of his shown me by J.

Chanot that is a marvel of strength and elasticity. He died in 1870.

Sometimes his bows are stamped "Henry, Paris."

HILL, W. E., AND SONS, London. Contemporary. This firm issue some

very fine bows which are made in their own workshops by expert

workmen trained under the personal supervision of Mr. A. Hill.

JOSEPHS. American, contemporary. A very clever maker and repairer of

violins and bows. I have seen some of his work that was excellent.

KITTEL, St. Petersburg. Modern. I have never come across a specimen

of this maker's work. Fleming states that they "are about as nearly

equal to Tourte's as those of any maker that has lived since his

day." It is a pity they are not more plentiful if this is the case.

KNOPF, HEINRICH, and KNOPF, LUDWIG, Berlin, contemporary. Fairly good

bows made chiefly to the order of other firms.

LAFLEUR, JACQUES. Born at Nancy in 1760, died in Paris 1832. One of

the best of the old makers. Some continental authorities place him on

a par with Tourte. Those of his make that I have handled are

certainly very fine indeed.

LAFLEUR, JOSEPH RENE, Paris. Born in 1812, died in 1874. He was the

son of Jacques Lafleur and inherited much of his father's skill.

LAMY, ALFRED JOSEPH. Born in 1850 at Mirecourt. He was an excellent

maker. An interesting feature is that he learnt his craft at a

remarkably early age. He worked first with Gautrot at

Chateau-Fleurry. He went, like the rest, to Paris in 1877, and worked

for Voirin for some eight years. At Voirin's death he started in

business for himself.

LUPOT, FRANCOIS. Born at Orleans 1774, died at Paris in 1837. For

fuller particulars of this maker see Chapter VII.

MAIRE, NICOLAS, Mirecourt and Paris. Was a pupil of Jacques Lafleur

but never did any work of great distinction.

MIQUEL, EMILE. A contemporary Mirecourt maker.

NURNBERGER, KARL ALBERT, Markneukirchen. Contemporary. A most

finished workman and a clever imitator of the styles of various

well-known makers. Has worked much for the trade. His best examples

are frequently stamped with his name, and amongst these will be found

bows which are fit to rank with some of the finest productions of the

French school. There are other makers of the same family engaged in

bow making.

PAJEOT. Worked in Mirecourt in the early part of the present century.

An excellent maker. He taught Joseph Fonclause who is known to have

made some of the finest bows bearing Vuillaume's stamp.

PANORMO. The quaint faceted bows of which I have given an example in

Plate VIII. were made, as far as I have been able to ascertain, by

George Louis Panormo, in the early part of this century. Details

concerning this family are neither plentiful nor clear, but it is

fairly certain that this bow maker was a son of Vincent Panormo of

Palermo, Paris, Ireland, etc., who first made the name famous in the

fiddle world. A description of the characteristics of his work will

be found in Chapter VII.

Fleming mentions a George Louis Panormo as a _modern_ maker in

London, but I do not know of such a maker. I am informed on excellent

authority that all the Panormo bows were made in Paris.

PECCATTE, DOMINIQUE. Born in 1810 and died in 1874 at Mirecourt.

Details of his life and work are given in Chapter VII.

PECCATTE, FRANCOIS ("PECCATTE JEUNE"), Paris. Born Mirecourt, 1820,

died Paris, 1855. A good workman, whose best bows, though not well

known in this country, are of nearly equal merit with his brother

Dominique's. He worked for ten years with Vuillaume. Some of his bows

are stamped with his name, the lettering of the stamp differing

slightly from that employed by his more famous brother.

PECCATTE, CHARLES, Paris. Son of Francois. Born Mirecourt, 1850. A

good workman, but not equal to the other makers of the name.

PELLEGRI, Italian, modern; neat workmanship.

PERSOIT. Worked in Paris about 1828 to 1841. He was employed largely

by Vuillaume and most of his bows bear the latter's name, but he

occasionally worked on his own account and then his work was stamped

P.R.S.

PRICE, London. Contemporary, excellent maker. Pupil of Tubbs.

PFRETSCHNER, Markneukirchen. Contemporary makers, whose best work is

of high merit and finish, though not quite equal to that of A.

Nurnberger.

POISON, Paris. A really magnificent workman. He was employed largely

by the firm of Gand and Bernardel, and the majority of his bows bear

their stamp. One occasionally meets with a bow by this maker bearing

his own name.

PUPINAT, Swiss. Middle of the present century.

RAKOWSCH, Paris. Modern.

RAU, AUGUST, Markneukirchen. Born 1866. A first-class workman. Worked

much for Weichold of Dresden.

RONCHINI, Italian. Modern.

SCHWARTZ, GEORG FRIEDRICH, Strasburg. Born 1785, died 1849. Made some

excellent bows marked "Swartz, Strasburg."

SIMON, P. Born at Mirecourt in 1808. Worked for D. Peccatte in Paris

in 1838. After this he worked for Vuillaume for seven years. He then

set up on his own account for some two years, and when D. Peccatte

left Paris he took over the business in partnership with Henry. Three

years later and he was again alone. His workmanship is always good

and betrays Peccatte's influence.

SIRJEAN. French. Early part of the present century.

SUSS, JOHANN CHRISTIAN, Markneukirchen. Born 1829. Died 1900. One of

the best makers Germany has produced. Imitated the style of Tourte.

TADOLINI, IGNAZIO. Born at Bologna in 1791, died at Modena in 1873.

Was established with his brother at the last-named town. Made some

very fine bows but was not equal.

TOURNATORIS. French. Latter part of last century.

TOURTE. Eighteenth century, Paris. One of the best bow makers of the

older type, chiefly known as the father of Francois Tourte.

TOURTE, SAVERE. Eldest son of the preceding and called "Tourte

l'aine," Paris.

TOURTE, FRANCOIS, Paris. Brother of the above, the greatest of all

bow makers. Born 1747, died 1838. For fuller particulars of his life

and work see Chapter VI (Plates V. and VI.).

TUBBS, W., London. Early nineteenth century. Worked for Forster,

Betts, Norris and Barnes. He was taught bow making by Edward Dodd.

TUBBS, JAMES. Son of the preceding. Born 1835. Died April, 1921. Many

of his bows are graduated according to a system based on the

calculations of W. S. B. Woolhouse, the mathematician (see Chapter

VII). The Tubbs bows have qualities distinctly their own and when a

player becomes thoroughly used to a "Tubbs" he rarely feels

comfortable with even the finest bows of another make. Conversely, a

player in the habit of using constantly any other bow experiences a

slight feeling of strangeness on first trying a "Tubbs." The

workmanship in a Tubbs bow is almost unique in its perfection. And

there is a characteristic English solidity about the secure way in

which all the fittings are adjusted. I have been an eye witness of

the care and attention paid by his son, Mr. A. Tubbs to the work of

repairing a bow that to the casual observer would seem past all

treatment. His brother, C. E. Tubbs, was a good bow maker, but

somewhat erratic.

VIGNERON, A. A modern French maker who turns out some extremely high

class work.

VOIRIN, NICHOLAS FRANCOIS. Another of the great Parisian bow makers.

Learnt the craft in his native town, Mirecourt, where he was born in

1833. At the age of twenty-two he was employed by Vuillaume, with

whom he worked for some fifteen years. It is believed that the finest

bows bearing Vuillaume's name were made by Voirin. Some of his bows

that were exhibited by Vuillaume in the Paris Exhibition in 1867

received honourable mention. I should say his work is more equal than

that of any other maker. Of course, as with other popular makers,

there are to be found plenty of worthless bows bearing the forged

stamp, "N. F. Voirin, a Paris." His death, which took place in Paris

in 1885, was very pathetic. He was walking along the Faubourg

Montmartre on his way to the abode of a customer to whom he was

taking a bow newly finished, when he suddenly fell down in an

apoplectic fit. Fortunately his name and address, "Bouloi 3," was on

the parcel containing the bow, and he was thus able to be taken home

without delay. But how sad a home-coming! brought home in a dying

condition to his wife whom he had left but a few minutes before in

apparently good health. He died the same night.

VUILLAUME, J. B., Paris. This strange mixture of cunning and ability

will be ever remembered as the craftiest of craftsmen. An undoubted

genius as a violin maker, yet with all the tricks and subterfuges of

the veriest charlatan. Concerning the real value of the historical

details furnished to Fetis by Vuillaume I have spoken in Chapter V.

Though it is possible that he had considerable practical knowledge of

bow making, I do not think he actually made any bows. He exercised

great judgment, however, in the employment of skilled workmen, whom

he kept as a rule for a number of years--a fact that is sufficient to

stamp him as a good and considerate employer. The most noted makers

who worked for him were Fonclause, Peccatte, Persoit, Simon and

Voirin. It will thus be seen that the majority of the bows bearing

Vuillaume's name are of the best possible workmanship and quality.

Unfortunately there are in this case also a number of forgeries on

the market. The most noteworthy features in connexion with Vuillaume,

as regards bows, are his curious inventions--the steel bow, the fixed

nut, the curved ferrule, and the self-hairing bow. Of the steel bow,

Mr. Heron-Allen says he has "never met with a specimen of so

ponderous an eccentricity" except the one in South Kensington Museum.

I have come across a number, and as they are tubular they are not at

all as ponderous as the name of the material suggests. In fact I

remember one that was very pleasant to play with. They are nearly

always lacking in balance. The fixed nut was the result of an idea

that the player should always have the same length of hair at his

service. The curved ferrule was also a mistake, the idea being that

it would be good to get a broad surface of hair on the string at the

heel. The self-hairing bow was ingenious but of no practical value.

These patents are detailed more fully in Part II. Vuillaume was born

at Mirecourt on October 7th, 1798, and was the son of the carrier

between that town and Nancy. He died at Paris in 1875.

WEICHOLD, Dresden. An excellent firm, who put their name on a

superior class of "trade bow."

WILSON, JOHN JAMES THOMPSON, London. Born March, 1864, worked in his

youth with James Tubbs, and later with C. E. Tubbs. Has worked much

for the trade.

With this list of bow makers ends the historical section of these

papers. As I have already explained, a perfect history of the bow is

quite impossible to obtain, and all I have attempted has been to lay

before my readers the facts I have accumulated. I have carefully

abstained from promulgating any theories of my own with regard to the

evolution of the bow (save in such cases where certain conclusions

have been forced upon me by the evidence found) as from the

conflicting nature of the records, I consider no one theory to be

sufficient. There seem to have been a number of separate influences

at work, the ultimate convergence thereof resulting in the production

of the perfect bow as we now know it. If I have been unable to make a

clear exposition of the bow's progress, I trust I have succeeded in

showing the unprincipled elimination of contradictory details

resorted to by earlier writers in order to achieve this desired end.

And I hope it will be understood that this has not been done in the

spirit of the small boy who, disappointed in his attempt to build a

sand castle, derives an alleviative gratification from the

destruction of the more imposing erections of his playmates.

PART II.

BOW MAKING.

CHAPTER IX.

MATERIALS--BRAZIL WOOD--HORSEHAIR--THE ACTION OF ROSIN.

It is curious to pass in review the strange events--the causes,

heterogeneous and improbable, that have produced many of the most

important results in the history of man. What fiddler, for instance,

when indulging in the customary smoke after an evening's "grind,"

realises his indebtedness for half his enjoyment to an unscrupulous

Genoese pirate of the fifteenth century? Yet, seeing that in addition

to wooden nutmegs, banjoes and other blessings of civilization

emanating from the New World, America gives us both tobacco and

Brazil wood (the only material of which it is possible to make a

thoroughly good bow), I think that, if I may liken the violinist's

mind to a temple of many shrines erected to all those who have

contributed to his welfare and enjoyment, there should be one niche

reserved for Christopher Columbus of egg-balancing fame.

It is also of interest to note how, as soon as violinists were ready

for a perfect bow, Francois Tourte appeared on the scene and provided

the much desired article. How he experimentalized on common

sugar-barrel wood I have already set down in its proper place. This

was, of course, to gain proficiency in the use of his new tools. In

his search after a wood that should contain the essential qualities

of strength, lightness and spring, he made bows of many kinds of

wood, but was not satisfied until he tried the red wood imported for

dyeing purposes from Pernambuco. I am afraid there are few who

reflect on the significance of the fact that the exact wood required

_did_ actually exist. Formerly the bow-maker had to buy the wood in

the rough state just as shipped over, and then would begin the weary

work of selecting those pieces suitable for his purpose. As a matter

of fact they are few and far between, for this wood is particularly

full of twists, knots and splits. Now this is done for him by firms

who buy the raw material, select that with the desired straight grain

and cut it into square rods ready for the craftsmen to work up into

bows. A few years ago bow makers demanded very dense wood under the

impression that it would be advantageous to have them as slender as

possible, for the denser the wood the thinner must be the stick to

preserve a normal weight. The fallacy of this method, however, soon

made itself apparent, for, though you may thin down a stick _ad

libitum_, the head _must_ be a certain height and breadth,

consequently these bows were all more or less top heavy. A much

lighter variety of wood therefore is now being used, and I must say

the appearance of some recent bows by our best English makers is

extremely fine; there is a greater sense of proportion apparent to

the eye as well as to the hand.

Some of the cheap German and French trade bows are made of what the

dealers call Brazilette wood, a wood somewhat allied to the true

Brazil wood, but totally lacking in spring or firmness. I wonder

whether violinists often realise when they take up a bow how many

remote parts of the earth have contributed to this little magic wand!

Wood from the West, ivory from the East, mother-of-pearl from the

sea, gold or silver from Eastern, Western, or, it may be, Antipodean

mines; and, when we add thereto the hair from the horse's tail, we

levy a tax upon the three kingdoms, vegetable, animal and mineral, to

minister to our enjoyment.

As much discrimination has to be exercised in selecting the hair as

in the case with the wood, for it is essential that every hair in the

bow be absolutely cylindrical and of equal thickness throughout.

These have to be sought for very carefully and are not so plentiful

as one would suppose, for the shape of a hair is regulated by that of

the pore from which it grows and these are seldom circular, many

being flat on one side, some, even, square or triangular. It has been

estimated that the proportion of suitable hairs is not more than ten

per cent. Tourte, according to Fetis, always preferred French hair

for his bows as he found it "larger and stronger than that of other

countries." I believe at present a quantity of Russian hair is used.

Tourte's daughter was of great assistance to him in selecting and

preparing the hair. His method was to thoroughly cleanse the hair

with ordinary soap, then to soak it in bran water and then, after

removing all foreign matter, to dip in "blue water." A few years ago

some misguided people tried bleaching the hair chemically. This,

however, made it quite dry and brittle, and it has happily been

abandoned.

The average number of hairs in a bow now-a-days is from 150 to 200.

In Tourte's day a similar number were used.

A few words on the structure and action of bow hair and the real part

played by rosin may not be amiss. As Mr. Heron-Allen truly observes

"it is astonishing how few violinists know anything about the

mechanical and scientific action of powdered rosin on tone

production." And for the laity he says again that many think, when

they see a bow being rosined, that it is being "greased to make it go

faster."

If we examine a hair microscopically we discover a surface covered

with minute scales. Ordinarily these scales lie close to the main

shaft, but when rosin is rubbed along the hair small particles get

fixed under the scales causing them to stand up somewhat like the

teeth of a saw. These erected scales act on the string like so many

infinitesimal _plectra_ and thus produce in perfection the sustained

sound attempted in a grosser manner by the tremolo of the mandoline.

It is simply a rapid series of shocks. A moment's consideration will

suffice to realize that continuous pressure on a string would act as

a deterrent rather than a promoter of vibration. In fact an unrosined

bow gives continuous pressure and therefore produces no sound.

The hair is usually inserted in a bow in the natural position of its

growth, _i.e._, the root end at the top, thus, as the scales point

downwards, giving the greatest attack to the down bow. Some have

tried placing half one way and half the other but I do not think a

very perceptible difference results from this proceeding.

CHAPTER X.

QUALITIES ESSENTIAL IN A BOW MAKER--SHAPING THE STICK--SETTING THE

_Cambre_--THE FACES--THE TRENCHES--THE NUT.

The manufacture of the bow is an industry calling for rare qualities

of patience and concentration on the part of its followers. The skill

required is of quite a distinct kind. Strength and delicacy of hand

must both be exceptionally pronounced, and mathematical accuracy of

eye is essential. Delicacy of touch to readily appreciate the varying

degrees of elasticity found not only in different sticks but often in

the same piece of wood. Strength to work with precision in such hard

wood. And for this kind of work the strength required is not that of

the carpenter who can use the weight and swing of his body; it is,

rather, a self-contained strength in which opposing forces must

co-operate in order to ensure the absolute accuracy so indispensable

in a bow. Then the sight must be of unerring judgment, for nearly all

the work depends on the eye. Bow making is distinctly nervous work

for it keeps the mind constantly alert.

I am indebted for most of the details given in this chapter to the

late Alfred Tubbs, son of James, and a good workman, who died

comparatively young in 1909. He told me that he only made one bow at

a time for the reason that each stick has its own individuality, some

intrinsic feature that has to be borne in mind through all the

details of fitting, mounting and adjusting. The mind is apt to lose

its certainty of retention when exercised on as few, even, as three

sticks simultaneously. Therefore each bow is completed before the

next is commenced.

Taking the rough stick as shown in Fig. 34, the first operation is

that of "rounding the throat," in other words the square rod is made

round for a few inches just below the rough block left for the head

to be cut from, this portion being called by some the "throat," and

by others the "neck" of the bow. After this the corners of the

remaining square portion are planed away, thereby making the stick

octagonal in section. Should it be intended that the finished bow be

octagonal, naturally the throat is not rounded but the planing away

of the corners is carried out with extreme care right up to the head.

The next operation is to lay the pattern (Fig. 35) on the projecting

block and, with a fine pointed pencil, to mark out the outline of the

head. This is the only part of the work on the stick itself wherein

the eye is assisted by actual measurement or pattern. The shaping, or

modelling of the head, as also, later, the gradation in thickness of

the stick depending entirely upon optic precision. The absolute

accuracy of hand and eye required for such work is only to be

attained by long years of constant application.

[Illustration: FIG. 34.]

[Illustration: FIG. 35.]

After roughly shaping the head comes the delicate operation of

"setting." This is also known as putting in the "spring" or _cambre_.

The principle upon which the amount of curve is determined is that an

imaginary straight line drawn from the face of the head to the face

of the nut shall coincide with the stick at the point of its greatest

deviation from the horizontal. There is no fixed distance from either

end for this extreme point of deviation to occur. It is a matter that

rests entirely on the judgment of the maker, who, if thoroughly

experienced, regulates the curve by any variation in rigidity he may

discover in the stick. Thus should his observations point to the fact

that a certain portion of the stick is slightly weaker than the rest,

there will he put the greatest amount of "spring." It must be

understood, however, that a good maker never uses a stick that is

palpably unequal. He will only take this trouble to correct

infinitesimal weaknesses (discernible only to a hand of great

experience) in wood of exceptionally good grain. It is astonishing

how many violinists seem to think good bows are made by accident. Few

know that there are some men who can _make_ a fine bow.

The prime factor in the "setting" of a bow is heat, by the judicious

application of which the straight rod is made to assume and retain

the desired _cambre_. The heat used now-a-days is that produced by an

ordinary gas flame. Dry heat is absolutely essential, as the

slightest moisture draws all the pigmentary matter out of the cells

in the wood and leaves the bow as colourless and mean in appearance

as a stick of deal. As it is, with dry heat even, the amount of

colour exuded by a good stick during this process is quite enough to

stain the hands a deep purple.

The great point to be observed in "setting" a bow is to make sure

that the fibres are all heated equally right through to the centre of

the stick. If this does not receive sufficient attention the bow can

not possibly retain its curve, for the inner fibres that have not

been affected by the heat will always be trying to resume their

original straight position, and are bound ultimately to overcome the

resistance of the heated outer fibres, with the result that the bow

either becomes straight or warped and twisted, most probably the

latter. To understand that this must be so it is only necessary to

remember that any elastic rod, a walking stick for example, can be

held so as to form a curve but as soon as the pressure is released it

immediately recovers its normal state. This is what happens with the

unheated inner fibres in an inferior bow. The constant strife of

opposing forces _must_ result in victory for the active force of the

inner fibres over the passive resistance of the heated outer fibres.

For the operation of "setting" the bow is left about half as thick

again as the finished stick is intended to be: this to allow for

scorching or burning the outer surface. When the "setting" is

satisfactorily accomplished the stick is planed up round, after which

the bottom trench is cut. This is the slot in which the screw-eye of

the nut travels. Then the hole for the screw itself is drilled out in

a lathe fitted with a "Cushman chuck." The next thing is to put on

the "black face." This is a thin slab of ebony glued on to the under

surface of the head, which helps to strengthen the head and forms a

solid bed for the ivory or metal plate which forms the outer facing

of the head. The ivory faces are cut out of the solid tusk to the

shape shown in Fig. 36. They are glued on with the very best glue

procurable and tied down with strong twine. This is another matter of

extreme difficulty and delicacy, as ivory is a very stubborn material

to work in and it is easy to crack it in forcing it down to the curve

of the face, that is if it is sufficiently thick adequately to fulfil

its original purpose as a strengthener and protector of the head. One

often sees in cheap bows faces of ivory so thin as to show the ebony

face through in a bluish tint. Such a face is of as much value to the

bow as a piece of paper, but it was easy to put on!

[Illustration: FIG. 36.]

Metal faces are growing more and more into favour but, personally, I

prefer a substantial ivory face, for though the metal may be stronger

in itself I think an ivory face well glued on is more homogeneous.

The successive layers of ebony and ivory on the already hard wood

forms a more equal gradation of density.

After both the faces are adjusted a circular hole is drilled in the

head and then chiselled out square to form the top trench or box to

receive the hair. The nut is then fitted. Many people imagine that

even the best makers buy the nuts wholesale and fit the sticks to

them, but good makers always make the nut for each bow as it is

wanted. They can by this means better regulate the balance of the

bow.

[Illustration: FIG. 37.]

Fig. 37 shows a gauge to determine the various dimensions of the nuts

of violin, viola and 'cello bows. Before the bow is finally "cleaned

up" it is haired[1] and screwed to see if it is all true, for there

may be something faulty in the _cambre_ which can be corrected at

this stage. If all is satisfactory the bow is finished and polished,

the whole process, from the rough stick in Fig. 34 to the finished

bow ready for the artist to melt, delight and amuse his hearers,

being one day's work.

[Footnote 1: For details of bow hairing see Chapter XII.]

CHAPTER XI.

POSSIBLE REPAIRS--SPLICING--RENEWING CUPS--RESTORING THE

NUT--RE-FACING.

Bow repairing is a matter calling for almost more skill than the

actual manufacture of new bows, and it is one about which very hazy

ideas exist outside the trade itself. One can divide violinists

roughly into two sections. On the one hand there are those who

believe anything is possible in this way, and on the other there are

many who have no faith whatever in such repairs.

I recollect when only a lad meeting an elderly amateur violinist of

the pompous class who not only was kind enough to pay the most

embarrassing attention to my solos but further favoured me with his

conversation and advice. "Now," said he, "you must get a steel bow;

tell your father about it; absolutely necessary. You see this stick

of a thing you are playing with" (alas, my cherished Lupot!) "is all

very well _now_, but by-and-bye the hairs will come out and it will

be worthless." I ventured to suggest that it could be re-haired. "Ah

yes, yes, yes!" he replied, "I know it _can_ be done, and it _is_

done, very often, but it is never the same thing. No, once the hairs

begin to go, there is nothing to do but buy a new bow, but if you

have a steel bow the hairs cannot come out and you have an article

that will endure in its original state all your life." (!)

I may observe that this gentleman had not the slightest commercial

interest in steel bows.

I also came in contact once with an example of the opposite class.

This gentleman had a little son who was in the habit of borrowing his

father's violin bow surreptitiously for the purpose of perfecting

himself in the useful art of single stick practice. The inevitable

happened, and when I saw the bow it was proudly exhibited to me as an

example of what could be done with a little ingenuity. The two halves

of the broken bow had been well glued together, two steel pen nibs

had been placed so as to form a sort of metal tube to protect the

fracture, and the whole was bound securely with strong silk. In its

owner's estimation it was "as good as ever, sir, as good as ever."

I propose to state here briefly what can be done and what is

advisable to have done in the way of bow-repairing.

If a bow is broken in the upper part of the stick it is just possible

to splice on a new head and throat, but it is not worth doing, for

the _cambre_ and balance of the original can never be reproduced. In

the first place there is a different piece of wood which, however

well matched, is bound to be sufficiently strange to disturb such a

delicate instrument. And then the _cambre_ of the new piece has to be

set before it is joined on to the old stick and thus it becomes

impossible to make a satisfactory curve throughout.

To re-adjust the original head is not feasible, as the only joint

that will stand the strain to which a bow is subjected is a long

diagonal one extending for several inches.

[Illustration: FIG. 38.]

Splicing a new "handle" (Fig. 38_d_) is, however, frequently done,

and is often advisable. It occasionally happens that a valuable bow

becomes so worn by the pressure of the fingers or thumb, or by the

friction of the nut and screw, as to be beyond the reach of the more

usual repairs. It then becomes necessary to substitute a new handle,

and this can be done by skilful repairers as to make absolutely no

difference to the balance of the stick. The joint is in this case

also a diagonal one extending usually from near the upper extremity

of the "lapping" downwards for some four or five inches. It should be

seen that the surfaces brought in contact in such a joint are so

placed as to be perpendicular to the plane of the hair. Otherwise it

cannot endure for any length of time.

[Illustration: FIG. 39.]

Very often the original handle can be restored and made sound. Thus,

when the screw hole becomes worn and the "cup" (see Fig. 39, which

shows the two "cups," that at the extremity of the stick and that in

the "tip") broken, it is customary to drill out the hole, turn up a

piece of well-seasoned bow wood in the lathe to the exact diameter of

the enlarged hole, and glue it well in place. When thoroughly dry a

new screw hole of the original dimensions can be drilled just as in

making a new bow. Sometimes, when there are cracks in the handle, the

trench has to be filled up and re-cut, as is also done to the head if

it is cracked through the pressure of the plug (Fig. 40_a_). Repairs

to the nut are also done when the nut is original, _i.e._, when it

belongs to the bow and is of a distinguished maker. Old nuts

frequently get cracked down the sides where they come in contact with

the stick. In this case the worn part of the nut is cut away and new

wood glued on and worked up to the original shape. I have seen a nut

so restored by Mr. Tubbs in which it was absolutely impossible to

discover where the new piece was joined on.

[Illustration: FIG. 40.]

With regard to the screw hole, it often becomes worn to an oval shape

just above the trench owing to the screw being too short. This is

frequently found in old French bows, even by the best makers, and

causes the unsightly tilting of the tip. In Fig. 41 is shown a

section of the nut and handle showing the action of the screw and the

way the hair is inserted. The screw in this diagram is the exact

length necessary to prevent the wearing away of the hole described

above.

[Illustration: FIG. 41.]

Bow repairers are often perplexed as to their customers' meaning when

sending instructions by post for the restoration of the "tip," as

many people use this word to denote the extremity of the head (Fig.

40_d_).

This, however, is known to experts as the "peak," and the word "tip"

is applied solely to the octagonal piece at the opposite end of the

bow, by means of which the screw is turned and the tension of the

hair regulated.

In some bows the octagonal portion, known as the handle (Fig. 38_d_)

on which the nut travels has the lower face rather larger than the

rest as in the section shown in Fig. 42. The object of this

enlargement is to give the nut a broader surface to travel on and

thus prevent the tendency to rock exhibited by some nuts. But, though

there is some merit in the idea it has been found that the rocking

can be avoided in a normal bow having the eight sides of the handle

equal by extra care in fitting. And though the other pattern may be

easier to fit in the first instance, the projecting sides of the nut

that travel on the adjacent faces of the handle are very small and

weak; consequently before long the nut shows longitudinal cracks at

this part and becomes extremely rocky, though from a different cause.

[Illustration: FIG. 42.]

One of the most frequent repairs is the operation of re-facing. The

handsome central gasalier of the modern room is a great enemy to the

violin and seems to lie in wait for the peak of an unwary violinist's

bow. Fortunately the damage is not very serious, and an experienced

bow repairer will not be long in restoring the head to its original

elegance of outline.

CHAPTER XII.

RE-LAPPING--RE-HAIRING--CHOICE OF ROSIN.

The lapping frequently wears out and becomes a source of great

irritation until one has an opportunity of having it newly done. For

this reason a lapping of leather is the most convenient and

economical, but nothing looks better than a good quality of silver

cord, and when it is bound with leather just where otherwise it would

suffer from the pressure and friction of the thumb nail it is really

very durable. Messrs. W. E. Hill and Sons have an extremely handsome

speciality in the way of lapping. This consists of whalebone,

sometimes bleached or dyed, and is practically indestructible. Bound

on in alternate strands of different colours it has a very effective

and neat appearance.

Sometimes the ordinary thread lapping gets cut through and interferes

with the player, and it is as well to know how to fasten it off at

once. I will assume that it is cut at the end nearest the nut (where

it usually happens). Take out the screw and wind the hair loosely but

securely round the upper part of the bow. Then unwind the lapping for

about an inch and a half. Take a piece of strong thread and double

it, then place it on the bow with the doubled end towards the handle.

Get a kind friend to hold the end of the lapping cord firmly and

commence winding it on again evenly and _over_ the doubled thread by

slowly rotating the bow. When within half an inch of the end of the

thread, take it all in your own hand and pass the end through the

loop of doubled thread and, taking the loose ends of the thread that

will hang out at the point where you started re-winding, pull the

doubled thread smartly out. This brings the end of the lapping right

through under the re-wound portion, where it will be held secure

until again cut through by the thumb-nail. This is the method

employed in fastening off new lappings. If you have not the time or

patience to do it this way a little sealing wax will hold the loose

end down during an evening's practice.

Considering that re-hairing is one of the most natural and most

frequent events in the life of a bow, it seems somewhat anomalous to

include it under the heading of "repairs." However, I will crave the

reader's kind indulgence for so doing.

At the outset I must emphatically assert that I do not advise

amateurs or artists to attempt to hair their own bows if any value

attaches to them, for it is astonishing how soon even a fine bow will

lose its _cambre_ if persistently haired in an unskilful manner. It

requires enormous experience to enable one to get the pull of the

hair equal in every case, and the slightest extra pull on one side or

the other gives the bow a twist that renders its action erratic and

extremely disturbing to a good violinist. The preceding operation to

re-hairing is that of unhairing. This is comparatively a simple

matter. The hair is first cut off short at each end, then hair at the

head is lifted up to disclose the plug (Fig. 40_a_). This is readily

lifted out with a pointed tool, and the curled up knot lying beneath

is pulled out. So much for the head. The nut is slightly more

complex. First the ferrule (Fig. 41_d_) is pulled off and the slide

(Fig. 41_f_) is pushed out. After this the hair is raised as with the

head, and the plug (Fig. 41_e_) picked out in the same manner. The

wedge in the nut (Fig. 41_c_) is used to spread the hair and keep it

firm at the heel, to give a good attack for heavy down strokes. This

is usually destroyed in unhairing, as it frequently has to be cut

away, owing to its being glued into position.

The process of re-hairing is now identical with that of hairing a new

bow in the first instance. Some keep the hair ready made up into

"hanks" of the right quantity for a bow, and others have it in large

bundles, pulling it out as required. One soon gets practice in this

to judge by the eye alone how much will be sufficient. At one end it

is tied securely with waxed silk or thread, and the short ends are

cut off to within about a sixteenth of an inch from the thread. To

prevent the thread being pulled off the end of the hair, the ends are

burnt with rosin so as to spread them out slightly (very slightly)

mushroom wise, over the thread binding. The usual way of doing this

is to fill the short end--which resembles a small stencil brush--with

finely powdered rosin and then, by pressing it against a red-hot

iron, to shape it into a firm, unyielding knot. This knot is laid in

the trench of the head, and the plug pressed firmly into position, so

that its upper surface is exactly level with that of the plate or

face. The hair, of course, must be brought over the wedge in an even

ribbon. The hair should now be well combed with a fine comb and then

steeped, coil fashion, in warm water for several minutes. It then

should be thoroughly combed again from top to bottom, holding it

firmly the while at the lower end. The nut is now placed in position

with the screw-eye rather above the centre of the slot in which it

travels, then a careful estimate is made of the length of hair

required to go just far enough round the plug (Fig. 41_e_) to be

secure, and a knot exactly like the one described for the head is

made at the point decided on. This requires considerable experience,

as it is very easy to make it too long or _vice versa_, both of which

faults hamper the nicety of adjustment of tension required for some

particular style of bowing technique. When this lower knot is made

the ferrule is slipped over the hair, the knot is laid in the trench

and the plug put in as before--the nut being completely detached from

the stick. The nut is then re-adjusted and slightly screwed up. The

hair is then combed again, the slide pushed in, and the ferrule

slipped over the extremity of the nut. After this a thin wedge is

driven in (behind the hair) usually with a spot of glue on the side

next the hair, as at _c_, in Fig. 41. The bow is now haired, and all

that remains to make it ready for use is to rosin it. As new hair

never bites on a block of rosin, it is necessary to spread a quantity

of powdered rosin on a card or sheet of stout paper and rub the hair

over it till it is quite full; after this it will take freely from

the block. A newly haired bow is always extremely rough and is apt to

produce a harsh, scratchy tone, but this defect wears off in a very

short time.

I must again repeat my opinion regarding the inadvisability of

violinists hairing their own bows, and I have only given the above

details to gratify the curiosity of those who like to know "how it's

done."

It is extraordinary the number and variety of rosins in the market;

some in most wonderfully contrived boxes designed to keep the rosin

dust from making the fingers sticky, or--more probably--to _sell_! Of

all the different patents in this way, I find the ordinary book-shape

by far the most satisfactory. The first quality of rosin is prepared

by boiling down Venice turpentine. In a certain authority on violin

matters I read that many soloists of celebrity use common kitchen

rosin, but I cannot say I have much faith in the source from whence

he can have received such information. It is advisable never to

change the rosin used until the bow is re-haired, as in each there is

some slight difference in composition that may not harmonize with

what is already on the bow.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE PERFECTION OF THE MODERN BOW--DR. NICHOLSON'S PATENT

BOW--VUILLAUME'S INVENTIONS--SELF-HAIRING BOWS--A FOLDING BOW--THE

"KETTERIDGE BOW."

It is worthy of note, as a testimony to the simplicity and perfection

of the bow, that there have been so few attempts, since Tourte's day,

to alter or "improve" it in any particular. The few experiments that

have been made in this direction have in nearly every case proved

failures and have sunk into speedy oblivion.

One of the most remarkable productions in this way was the ponderous

monstrosity invented by one Dr. Nicholson (Fig. 43). This hideous and

unwieldy weapon was put forth by its inventor as the only correct

form for a violin bow! It had to be haired with precisely 150 horse

hairs dyed red. The reasons for this and the eccentric curve of the

stick are subtleties into which I dare not venture!

[Illustration: FIG. 43.]

Vuillaume's erratic genius was responsible for sundry attempts at

improving the bow, the most complex being the fixed nut. He was

struck by the fact that with the ordinary nut advancing and

retreating by the action of the screw it was possible for it to be

not always mathematically in the same place. Also that as the hair

gradually stretched by use, the length thereof increased as the same

tension was obtained each time it was screwed up for use. This, of

course, made a minute difference in the balance of the bow. He

apparently considered this a serious defect and set about inventing a

nut that should render the balance and the length of the hair

immutable. This was his patent "_hausse fixe_." As the name implies

the nut was a fixture externally but contained a smaller metal nut

that travelled inside it. These nuts were very unsightly as they were

much more bulky than the ordinary nut. It is curious that it never

occurred to him that the movement of the internal nut would similarly

affect the balance. A sort of windlass in the nut would have been

more exact, but, as a matter of fact the difference is more

theoretical than practical, and is imperceptible to the player, so

the fixed nut, like many other examples of wasted ingenuity, died a

natural death.

Another of Vuillaume's patents was the steel bow. This was often a

handsome looking instrument. Some were "got up" to look like Brazil

wood and others were of a bright blue. As this was the natural colour

of the metal it was more commendable but had a very odd appearance.

These bows were not much heavier, if at all, than the average bow as

they were hollow throughout. They were deficient in balance and had

one great drawback. Though stronger and tougher in one sense than the

wooden bow they would not stand so much knocking about. A bow, even

in the hands of those accustomed to handling them, is liable to have

an occasional fall, and if not broken, is as good as ever; in fact a

bow rarely breaks unless it falls peak downwards. On the other hand

the steel bow would generally "kink" or get dinted and bent if it

came in contact with anything in a fall and would then be entirely

useless. A third mistake of Vuillaume's was the curved ferrule.

Thinking it would be advantageous to give the player a good spread of

hair at the heel he made a ferrule that gave the ribbon of hair as it

left the nut something the appearance of the hair in the primitive

Egyptian bow illustrated in Fig. 11. This is still to be met with in

some cheap foreign bows. A further notion of his was calculated to be

of great benefit to such players as might find themselves in

out-of-the-way places with a bow in need of new hair and no _luthier_

or bow-repairer within reach. This was the "patent self-hairing bow."

Its principles were sometimes used in conjunction with the "fixed

nut" and steel bows. The hair for this bow was sold ready made into

ribbons of the exact length by having a small brass rod placed

transversely at either end; these rods slipped into appropriately

shaped notches in the head and nut and the bow was haired. It does

not appear to have been satisfactory and has gone the way of the

other innovations of this and other makers. One other thing in

connexion with Vuillaume's bows I will mention here though it is not

in the nature of an "improvement" properly so-called, albeit I have

no doubt Vuillaume thought it a great embellishment. In the nuts of

some of his bows, just where the mother-o'-pearl "eye" is usually

placed, he had inserted a minute and powerful lens with a microscopic

transparent portrait of himself that could be seen therein on holding

the nut to the light. It was just like the views one sometimes sees

in penholders brought as presents from popular seaside resorts.

I have recently heard of another variety of self-hairing bow patented

in America, but have not yet seen one. From that country, where, so I

have heard, the bows drawn are of quite exceptional length, emanated

a patent bow wherein fine cords are substituted for hair and also a

contrivance, whereby, when the hair becomes smooth and useless on the

one side, it can be taken out, turned round and then enters on a

rejuvenated existence the other way about.

To return to Vuillaume's patent bows. All of these, excepting the

steel bows, are splendid sticks, for they were made by Simon,

Fonclouse, and other noted workmen. It is therefore a profitable

thing to have them altered into normal bows. This can be done by

skilful workmen so that the bow is as good as any other ordinary bow

by the same maker, and is free from the encumbrance of the patent.

G. Chanot, of Manchester, I am told, has a patent bow that is made to

fold in two for convenience in packing for travelling purposes. The

idea is not as original as its inventor may think, for the Japanese

kokiu which is fast becoming obsolete had an extremely long and

flexible bow that was jointed together like a fishing rod.

The "improved bow," patented by Chas. Ketteridge, is distinctly novel

and has much to commend it. The hair in this bow is placed at such an

angle that, though the player holds his hand in the usual position,

the full width of the hair lies evenly on the string from end to end.

It has been well spoken of by the press and several noted artists.

For chord playing it possesses distinct advantages, and I should

think it would be very useful for certain orchestral players; it does

not, however, seem to have attracted more than passing attention.

Truly the "fiddlestick" is a magic wand in more senses than one. As

mentioned above it is significant that so little has been attempted

in the way of alteration or improvement, and it is still more so that

of that little such a small proportion is worthy of a second thought.

As Bach stands in relation to the fugue, as Beethoven to the symphony

and Stradivari to the violin, so is Tourte to the bow. Superior alike

to his predecessors and successors, he stands high poised upon the

pedestal of his incomparable genius.

PART III.

THE ART OF BOWING.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE UNDECIDED ASPECT OF TECHNIQUE--IMPORTANCE OF A KNOWLEDGE OF THE

ANATOMY OF THE HAND--THE FUNCTION OF THE THUMB--INDIVIDUALITY IN

TECHNIQUE.

In treating of the somewhat complex and, in many details,

highly-disputed subject of the functions of the bow, I shall prefer

to handle the question in the abstract rather than to launch myself

on the choppy sea of "technique"; a sea abounding in shoals, reefs,

undercurrents and whirlpools; extremely difficult to navigate

inasmuch as that no two charts agree. Consequently when the mariner

launches his boat the danger to himself and his passengers is

considerable. In plain English the difficulty of explaining all the

well-nigh imperceptible differences of movement in bone and muscle

required for the various styles of bowing is so enormous that he who

attempts to do so on paper lies under the grave danger of being

misunderstood, and the student under the scarcely less grave one of

misunderstanding. The danger is reciprocative, just as, to return to

my nautical simile, the peril of the helmsman is shared by each

passenger if he by mischance steers upon a submerged rock.

Therefore, dear reader, I will survey the whole prospect from a

secure coign of vantage upon the mainland, and trust my impressions

thereof may prove of some slight service to you. As I have disclaimed

all intention of making this portion of my work a handbook of bowing

technique it seems superfluous to add that my observations are

addressed more to the teacher than the student. I use these words in

their accepted and arbitrary meanings for the sake of distinguishing

between two separate classes. Of course, from the higher standpoint,

a good teacher is always a student. If it were not so the following

pages would be written to no purpose.

Some years ago a certain eminent M.D. collaborated with a more or

less well known singing master in a work on the Larynx. The musical

world talked of little else but vocal chords and soft palates for

many months, and the musical press was teeming with correspondence in

which the pros and cons of such studies were hotly discussed, many of

the antagonistic writers opining that the knowledge of the anatomy of

the throat would be of as much service to a vocalist as that of the

hand to a violinist. Which reasoning sounds at first glance quite

complete, yet, on examination, it will be observed that there is no

such close analogy as these writers appeared to think. To begin with,

in singing the mind only occupies itself with the sound produced. To

learn singing is to practise mimicry. We cannot determine the

position of the vocal chords before producing the note. Our

consciousness begins at the other end; the mind conjures up a certain

ideal sound which we attempt to realize vocally; if the desired

_timbre_ is produced the laryngeal action is correct. With the violin

thought commences with the means. The hand is trained; we say set the

fingers so, and the thumb so. Now practice; when the action is

perfect the tone will be right. Briefly in singing we strive for the

tone and the action follows, in the violin we strive for the action

and the tone follows. Thus it is clear that a knowledge of the

structure of the hand is of distinct value to a violinist--in

particular, a teacher--while, on the other hand, the knowledge of the

anatomy of the throat can be little more than interesting to the

vocalist.

A knowledge of the structure and functions of the various parts of

the hand on the part of a teacher would smooth over many

disheartening experiences of his pupils. Just as it is of value to

study the mental characteristics of a pupil so, also, is it of value

to thoroughly examine his physical peculiarities. I wonder how many

violin teachers have noticed, or have profited by so noticing, that

no two hands are alike, or that thumbs are of different lengths and

set on in various degrees of opposition to the fingers. It is seldom

that such apparently unimportant details are observed by teachers,

the majority of whom make all their pupils hold the bow alike, long

thumbs or short thumbs it makes no difference. I remember having for

a pupil a young lady who had been taught to hold her bow at the

extreme tips of her fingers. Naturally she gained no facility and

every attempt at semiquavers sent the bow flying across the room to

the imminent danger of the teacher's optics. I surmised the cause of

this eccentricity and was ultimately able to verify my conjectures.

The master who had been so conscientious in making her hold the bow

in this strained and ungainly position was blessed with an abnormally

long thumb; the pupil's thumb was short. What came natural to the one

was a strain on the other.

The function of the thumb is that of a pivot; a fulcrum. The bow is a

lever resting thereon, and its pressure on the string is regulated by

the first and second fingers on the one side and by the third and

fourth on the other. It would thus appear that the best place for the

thumb would be exactly between the second and third fingers. But it

is not given to every thumb to drop _naturally_ into this position.

And here is to be noted the germ of facility in bowing. Every thumb

closes naturally on a certain spot; it may be on the second finger,

or on the third. If the former it can be made to rest on the third or

even the fourth without apparent effort, but minute observation will

detect an infinitesimal strain when the thumb is taken beyond its

natural resting place. Therefore I maintain that the best position

for the thumb is to be determined by examination of the hand and

thumb, and will differ slightly in each individual player. It is

curious to note how many teachers, some of extreme eminence, take

such pains to perpetuate their own bad habits in their pupils under

the impression that they are teaching a perfect and superior

technique. I am afraid that it sounds somewhat of a heresy to speak

of great players and teachers having "bad habits"; the expression is,

perhaps, rather strong, but what I refer to is the "personal

equation." Such a player has a tendency to part his fingers, another

elevates the fourth finger in certain passages, this one has a

peculiar movement of the elbow, etc., etc. All these divergencies

from rigid and pedantic technique being the result of their several

physical differences. When these men prove themselves great artists

and attain high positions as teachers their advice is sought on

matters of technique. Finding themselves oracles they first consult

the oracle by aid of looking glasses, analyse in this way their own

actions, and then the one who parts his fingers lays it down as a law

that the fingers should be parted, and the one with the peculiar

movement of the elbow will not rest until all his pupils have

acquired the same eccentricity. I will quote another example of this

sort of thing that came under my own observation some years ago. It

deals with the left hand, but displays the spirit so well that I feel

it is not out of place in this connexion. A thin, delicate lad, with

fingers "like needles"--as a brother violinist described them to

me--was sent to a German professor whose digits resembled nothing so

much as the handles of table knives. This was an excellent violinist,

or rather "geiger," for the Germans make this distinction, but owing

to the size of his fingertips he could only play semitones in the

third position by removing the finger stopping the lower note while

putting down the higher one. If he retained the second finger on E on

the A string, third position, the third finger would fall too sharp

for F natural. This seemed to him such an unalterable law of nature

that he made the lad do the same, notwithstanding that the boy could

have stopped quarter tones with ease had they been wanted!

Had this man made even a superficial study of the hand he would have

been spared much profanity and the pupil much heartache and

disappointment. Tuition is twofold. There is direct teaching and

there is development. The seed is sown and then the soil is watered

and tended in the manner calculated to nourish and develop the

particular plant to the best advantage. Again, the gardener does not

plant his roses in damp shady corners or his ferns in sand.

Teachers require to use more of the gardener's judgment. They must

cease to look upon their pupils as defective copies of themselves and

must not fit them out with technique as soldiers are with clothing.

The technique should be made for the particular player. A violinist

with an ill-fitting technique is about as elegant as a short man in

clothes intended for a tall one, or vice versa. Many cases of bad or

defective technique are directly attributable to the teacher's want

of perception of "fit."

Thus we see players whose natural movements are bold and free trussed

up in a small and finicking technique, and others whose bent is

towards neatness, struggling manfully with a cumbersome "large

style." I have heard a "gentleman" defined as "a man who wears

clothes that belong to him." Similarly we may say that a good

violinist is one whose technique belongs to him. Every movement

should come naturally, it should be as much a part of his personality

as his tone of voice or the glance of his eye, and it should be the

teacher's aim to develop this personality and not to stifle it as is

too often the case. Of course great judgment is required in this

development, or the personality will become marked mannerism, than

which nothing could be worse. True art always displays a certain

reticence; excess at either end of the gamut of emotion is avoided.

Calmness is not coldness, and passion carried too far becomes

caricature. Tone must be developed also, but it should always be

borne in mind that exertion is not power; a mistake too frequently

made. How often do we see a well meaning but physically weak player

trying to tear the tone out of a violin by "main strength." Such

efforts are useless, particularly when practised on a fine violin. A

really good instrument is of too sensitive an organisation to respond

to bullying. Teachers cry out to their pupils sometimes "lay it on!"

"pull it out!" and other contradictory sounding phrases with the same

meaning, and occasionally such admonitions and encouragements bear

good fruit, but there is always the danger of "effort" being

engendered thereby. There should be no effort in art. Effort, too,

defeats its own ends. It weakens; exercise strengthens. Therefore let

the strength with which to "lay it on" or "pull it out" be gradually

and naturally developed by constant and gentle practice. The muscles

will gain strength thus, and the result will be a full round tone,

capable of every inflection and free from everything like harshness.

Power should be implied rather than displayed. The instrument will

then respond freely and fully as a woman to the caress of a strong

manly arm.

CHAPTER XV.

BOWING HISTORICALLY CONSIDERED--THE OLDEST ENGLISH VIOLIN

METHOD--SYMPSON'S INSTRUCTIONS IN BOWING--THOSE OF MACE (1676)--THOSE

OF VARIOUS MODERN MASTERS.

If the history of the bow's development _per se_ presented a misty

aspect we must not be surprised to find that of bowing similarly

obscure.

Just as the violin arrived at its state of greatest perfection long

before the bow developed into a fitting companion.

When we consider the enormous progress in left hand technique

accomplished by the earlier violinists and 'cellists, such as

Corelli, Tartini, Bach, and a host of others, it seems

incomprehensible that the bow should have so long remained in such a

comparatively crude and primitive condition, and its mode of use so

limited and undecided.

The best drawing I have seen of the manner of holding the bow in

playing a higher pitched viol is in a miniature representation of a

state banquet in the fifteenth century, from which I extract the

player shown in Fig. 44.

[Illustration: FIG. 44.]

The evidence of drawings, sculptures, etc., in the earliest days of

rebecs and viols, if not reliable in the representation of the bow

itself, are still less so when it comes to the question of handling

the same. With the smaller viols, the thumb (such an important

member) is naturally invisible, and the effect is usually that of a

clenched fist. It seems to have been the general rule with all the

viols of lower pitch that were held perpendicularly, to hold the bow

underhand as described by Sympson in 1759 (Fig. 45). But the third

drawing in Fig. 18 is remarkable alike for the modernness both of the

bow and the posture of the hand holding it. This is on a par with the

early bows with screw-nut and _cambre_ described in the first section

of this work. I cannot think it likely that the sculptor saw anyone

playing a bass viol in this manner. Whether this representation was

the result of gross ignorance or prophetic inspiration I leave to the

reader to decide.

[Illustration: FIG. 45.]

Of course the manner of holding the bow for the smaller viols would

have approximated more nearly to that which obtains on the violin at

the present day, as the underhand position would have been extremely

inconvenient, and even impossible.

The earliest English method for the violin known is that contained in

the second book of "An Introduction to the Skill of Musick, in Three

Books," published in 1654 by John Playford.

Here the violin is just tolerated in a sort of appendix to the more

important subject of the "Treble, Tenor, and Bass Viols." It consists

chiefly of various methods of ensuring accuracy in tuning the fifths,

and the question of bowing is summarily treated as follows:--

"The _Bow_ is held in the right Hand, between the ends of the Thumb

and the 3 Fingers, the Thumb being stay'd upon the Hair at the Nut,

and the 3 Fingers resting upon the Wood. Your _Bow_ being thus fix'd,

you are first to draw an _even Stroak_ over each _String_ severally,

making each _String_ yield a clear and distinct sound."

Of the Treble Viols very little is said on the subject of bowing, the

most complete instructions on that head being given for _the_ viol

_par excellence_, the viola da gamba. In treating of this glorious

instrument the older writers spared no pains to make their directions

as complete as possible. Thus Sympson in his "Division Viol"--first

published in 1659--says:--

"Hold the Bow betwixt the ends of your Thumb and two foremost

fingers, near to the Nut. The Thumb and first finger fastened on the

Stalk; and the second finger's end turned _in_ shorter, against the

Hairs thereof; by which you may poize and keep up the point of the

Bow. If the second finger have not strength enough, you may joyn the

third finger in assistance to it; but in Playing Swift Division, two

fingers and the Thumb is best.... When you see an even Number of

Quavers or Semiquavers, as 2, 4, 6, 8, you must begin with your Bow

forward; yea, though the Bow were imployed forward in the next Note

before them. But if the number be odd, as 3, 5, 7 (which always

happens by reason of some Prick-Note or odd Rest) the first of that

odd number must be played with the Bow backward. This is the most

proper motion of the Bow, though not absolutely without some

exception; for sometimes the quickness of the Notes may force the

contrary. Also quick Notes skipping from the Treble to the Bass, and

so persued, are best express'd with contrary Bows."

All of which is very clear and logical. The way he balances up the

relative claims of a stiff or loose elbow is, however, distinctly

amusing, as witness the following:

"----you must stretch out your Arm streight, in which posture

(playing long Notes) you will necessarily move your shoulder Joint;

but if you stir that Joint in Quick Notes, it will cause the whole

body to shake; which (by all means) must be avoyded; as also any

other indecent Gesture. Quick Notes, therefore, must be expressed by

moving some Joint near the Hand;[1] which is generally agreed upon to

be the Wrist. The question then arising is about the menage of the

Elbow Joint; concerning which there are two different opinions. Some

will have it kept stiff; insomuch, that I have heard a judicious

violist positively affirm, that if a Scholar can but attain to the

playing of Quavers with his Wrist, keeping his Arm streight and stiff

in the Elbow-Joint, he hath got the mastery of the Bow-Hand. Others

contend that the motion of the Wrist must be strengthened and

assisted by a compliance or yielding of the Elbow-Joint unto it; and

they, to back their Argument, produce for instance a person famous

for the excellency of his Bow-Hand using a free and loose Arm. To

deliver my own opinion: I do much approve the streightness of the

Arm, especially in Beginners, because it is a means to keep the Body

upright, which is a commendable posture. I can also admit the

stiffness of the Elbow, in smooth and Swift Division; for which it is

most properly apt; but Cross and Skipping Divisions cannot (I think)

be so well express'd without some consent or yielding of the

Elbow-Joint unto the motion of the Wrist.... This motion or looseness

of the Wrist I mention, is chiefly in _Demi-semiquavers_; for, in

_Quavers_, and _Semiquavers_ too, we must allow so much stiffness to

the wrist as may command the Bow _on_ and _off_ the String, at every

Note, if occasion so require."

[Footnote 1: "_Some_ joint" is very good; it gives such liberty in

the way of choice.]

This must have been rather a crude form of _spiccato_. It is,

however, plainly evident that with heavy bows, destitute of

elasticity, and held underhand, it was quite impossible to allow the

bow to rebound naturally from the string for this effect.

Mace, whose book, "Musick's Monument," is one of the most amusing

works extant, in speaking of the bowing of the viol, _i.e._, viola da

gamba, or, as he calls it, "the generous viol," quotes Sympson's

direction for holding the bow and then adds:--

"Yet I must confess, that for _my own Part_, I could never _Use it so

well_ as when I held it 2 or 3 _Inches off the Nut_ (more or less)

according to the _Length or Weight of the Bow_, for _Good Poyzing of

It_: But 'tis possible, that by _Vse_ I might have made It _as

Familiar to_ Myself, as It was to _Him_."

He, also, was greatly exercised in his mind as to the stiffness or

the reverse of the elbow, and delivered himself thuswise thereon:--

"So likewise, for the _Exact Straitness of the Bow-Arm_, which some

do _Contend for_, I could _never do so well_, as with my _Arm_

(_straight enough, yet_) _something Plying, or Yielding to an Agile

Bending_: and which I do conceive most _Familiarly Natural_. (For I

would have no _Posture, Vrged, Disputed_, or _Contended for_; that

should _Cross_, or _Force Nature_.")

There is much to commend in the spirit of this last sentence. The

hand and arm should never be made to do anything that is unnatural.

But herein must be exercised the greatest possible judgment that the

unfamiliar be not mistaken for the unnatural.

Returning to the position of the thumb in violin playing we find

nearly every teacher insisting on a different posture. In the

"Methode de Violon," by Baillot, Rode and Kreutzer, it is set down as

being correct to have the thumb opposite the middle finger. David, in

his "Violin School," says that the thumb should be opposite the

_first_ finger. This is to my mind most extraordinary, and I can

hardly conceive it possible that so great a violinist and teacher

could have maintained such an unscientific method to be correct. The

loss of leverage resulting from the thumb being so far forward would

be almost certain to cause the elbow to rise and give, by the dead

weight of the arm, the pressure that should come from the sentient

elasticity of the first and second fingers. De Beriot says the thumb

should be between the second and third fingers, which is naturally

the best position. Papini, with greater perception of the fact of

anatomical difference in hands, says the thumb should be as near the

centre of the four fingers as possible.

In all questions of technique it is possible to determine the exact

best mode of procedure. But unless the hand be perfectly fitted

thereto, the rule should be relaxed, for insisting on positions that

are even slightly strained (though possibly, quite comfortable to a

differently constructed hand) can only do harm.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE FINGERS OF THE RIGHT HAND--DIFFERENCES OF OPINION

THEREON--SAUTILLE--THE LOOSE WRIST.

The functions of the right hand fingers are twofold. At times they

act in conjunction with each other and at others, in opposition. Some

writers say that the two outer fingers are the holding fingers, and

others contend that the two inner fingers are alone concerned in this

service. This difference of opinion is to me just as absurd as the

arguments anent the wrist and elbow of the old violists. As a matter

of fact both theories are right. The difference being that, in the

question of holding, the action of the outer fingers is passive while

that of the inner fingers is active. To go more into detail, in soft

passages the bow simply rests supported by the three points of

contact with the thumb, first and fourth fingers. The inner fingers

then taking little or no part in the matter. This action of the outer

fingers I say is passive as the bow is not actually _held_ but simply

rests on the thumb, the two outer fingers merely preventing it from

falling to one side or the other. Occasionally these two fingers will

act in concert or opposition, according to the requirements of

expression and phrasing. When playing loudly it becomes necessary

that a more decided purchase of the bow be maintained, especially in

rapid _forte_ passages. Then the inner fingers come into play and

hold the bow firmly against the thumb. The two outer fingers then are

solely concerned with regulating the pressure and preserving the

elasticity of the stroke, which is lost in a firm grip only.

These slight differences of action in my opinion can not be

_practised_. They are the outcome of years of grind. They come, and

when they are firmly established we can analyse them. To gain the

mastery of the bow one must begin at the bottom and be content to

work gradually up to the topmost rung (or thereabouts!) of the

ladder. I often meet with amateur violinists who try to begin at the

top. The consequences of this proceeding are distinctly more certain,

for when starting at the bottom it is not always assured that much

upward progress will be made, whereas, by the opposite method the

descent will be certain and considerable!

Nothing is more hopeless than the attempts some amateur violinists

make to acquire certain styles of bowing simply by mentally mastering

the various actions by which it is produced.

_Sautille_, one of the easiest forms of bowing, suffers most from

this sort of thing. It is no uncommon thing to see an amateur

diligently practising the action of lifting the bow off the string

and putting it on again after each note, thinking that if he keeps on

long enough--say ten minutes a day for a fortnight--that he will

acquire a perfect mastery of this much desired effect. To practice

_Sautille_ in this manner is the way _not_ to gain it. It is the

outcome of the perfect action of the entire arm. When that is

attained you will have the _Sautille_. Then, and then only, will a

little specialized practice help to perfect the movement. Some pupils

I have had who possessed the _Sautille_ by nature and never

understood the difficulty experienced by others who had to wait for

it. The best way to acquire this as the result of a perfect bow arm

is to practise the following:

[Illustration: Musical notes, etc.]

Try it first on the D string. Use whole bows, freely and firmly, for

the semibreves, slightly less for the minims, the middle third for

the crotchets, and an inch or two for the quavers, reducing it still

further as the pace increases. The pupil must abandon all thought of

_making_ the bow jump, also he must avoid pressing it on the string.

The whole action must be free and bold and the tempo for this

exercise should be not slower than M.M. crotchet = 100. At first it

will be found impossible to get as far as the semiquavers without

some confusion. At the first sign of irregularity the pupil should

stop, pause a moment, and then recommence with the semibreves. It

should be seen that the bow is not gripped too tightly through

over-anxiety or excitement. It will need patience on the part of

teacher and pupil alike, but both will be gratified when suddenly the

bow is seen to jump naturally and the _Sautille_ is won.

There is one phrase in connexion with bowing that irritates me

greatly, and that is a "loose wrist." As a technicality it is of

course all right, but the insisting on the literal application of the

term has been a stumbling block to many violinists. Ladies have come

to me saying, "Do you think my wrist loose enough for me to play the

violin?" Accompanying the query with a violent flapping of the hand

that would almost make one think they were desirous of emulating the

lobster's ability to cast away a claw at will. Upon making such

persons hold a pencil or penholder (I dared not let them handle a

bow!) it was found that the wrist became stiff and unyielding. The

wrist that was loose when all the muscles were flaccid became rigid

when a few were exerted sufficiently to hold a light object.

Thus it will be seen that the apparent looseness of a violinist's

wrist is not really such, but is the dominating of one set of muscles

by another. Many teachers say that one should have the thumb tight

and the wrist loose. A manifest absurdity when one considers that a

most important thumb muscle extends right across the wrist. It should

therefore be well understood that what is implied by the technical

expression "loose," is, in reality, "control." If it were really

looseness, it would present no difficulty to any one not afflicted

with an ossification. It is to gain this extreme independence of each

set of muscles that long years are taken up in monotonous exercises.

The arm of a violinist has to be trained in a manner directly

opposite to that of an athlete. In the latter we find an

exemplification of the saying, "Unity is Strength." All the muscles

act in perfect accord to the same end. With the violinist, on the

other hand, there is a constant opposition of forces; the larger

muscles are kept down and many smaller muscles are developed that

have lost all use in the arm of an athlete.

Concerning the fingers of the right hand I advocate holding them

close together--not cramped, but just lightly touching. Some players

recommend the parting of the first finger from the others as giving

greater leverage over the bow. It certainly has that effect, but I

advise it to be used very sparingly and in fortissimo passages only.

It is a license one may admit in an artist, but to my pupils who are

in the earlier stages I entirely forbid it. I should only permit it

in the case of a thumb so short as not to reach far enough into the

centre of the hand to give the right amount of control. If a pupil is

taught from the first to use this extreme leverage he is likely to

develop a rough tone. When he has attained the mastery of the bow he

can use his own judgment as to the occasional employment of this

reserve force. These remarks I apply also to violoncello bowing.

Unless the pupil's hand be weak the first finger should be held back

until the whole art of bowing is mastered. All these observations are

addressed to soloists: in orchestral work such retention of force is

unnecessary. I notice that where players use up all the available

leverage of the hand from the outset, they are compelled to employ

the weight of the arm to reinforce it for special effects. Another

reason--and an important one--for keeping the fingers together, is

that of appearance. Nothing is more unsightly than to see the fingers

of the right hand spread out claw fashion, and I quite concur with

Sympson that no posture or movement should offend the eye.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE IMPORTANCE OF THE SLOW BOW--THE RAPID WHOLE BOW--STACCATO--BOWING

STUDIES AND SOLOS--CONCLUSION.

Returning for a moment to the anxiety of the average fiddler to

acquire a good _Sautille_, it seems to me absurd that such importance

should be attached to it when, in reality, the test of a violinist's

ability lies in his command of "slow bows." Too much attention cannot

be paid to the study of sustained bowing which can be practised in a

variety of ways. Firstly, long drawn semibreves--at one of the

Continental Conservatoires they make the violin students play scales

of two octaves, taking one bow to each note, the same to last _two

minutes_, thus the whole scale, ascending and descending, occupies

one hour! The command obtained by this sort of work is enormous. To

vary the monotony of semibreves the student can then play scales in

semiquavers, making one bow last out ten, twelve, or more scales in

two octaves. Another useful variety of the same thing is to practise

some succession of notes in which the bow requires to continually

pass from one string to the next, such as:

[Illustration: Musical notes, _D.C. ad infinitum_.]

These should be played as many times as possible in one bow. Here the

command of the bow on the string is not only greatly increased, but

the wrist is well exercised at the same time.

The same thing should be carried out on the third and fourth strings

thus:

[Illustration: Musical notes.]

It is a good thing to make the pupil (if endowed with sufficient

intelligence) work out a series of such mechanical exercises, he will

this way take a much greater interest in the work, a point to which I

attach great importance, for I consider physical exercises, however

conscientiously carried out, do little good if the mind is fatigued

or absent.

Of scarcely less importance is the study of rapid whole bows. The

pupil should be made to draw the bow from end to end as rapidly as he

can without _losing control of the bow_, and it must be seen that the

pressure does not vary in any way. The bow should be set on firmly at

the heel, held there for, say, a crotchet, then drawn, without any

swelling of the tone in the centre of the bow, smartly to the point

where it must stop suddenly without any change of pressure. This is

not found an easy thing to accomplish, but "perseverance overcometh

all difficulties." The teacher must not be satisfied until the pupil

can draw a rapid up or down stroke stopping so suddenly and firmly as

to make the note sound as though cut off. In practising this, the bow

should remain firmly on the string between each stroke; whether the

bow travels or is stationary the pressure must be unchanged.

Staccato bowing is a much misunderstood branch of technics; I do not

mean the detached staccato, but that form in which a series of notes

is played in one bow yet have a detached effect on the ear. It is a

pity that one word should have to stand for two totally different

forms of bowing. I have heard and read many varying descriptions of

the "bowed-staccato" and its method of production. Of course it is

highly probable that some players attain it differently to others,

but as I see no anatomical reason for such differences of action it

seems a waste of energy to mechanically produce what already exists

in nature. I have no doubt a great deal of this gratuitous

variegation of staccato technique comes from teachers not fully

understanding their own movements, or perceiving a portion of the

action required and laying all stress on that one feature alone. But

unless one goes to the prime source of the matter a perfect staccato

cannot be attained.

This most important factor, as I should have thought everyone of

common sense would at once perceive, is nothing less than the wrist.

Yet I have known some teachers who confine their attention to the

action of the fingers, letting the wrist follow as best it can. It is

from such teachers, usually, that we receive the preposterous

statement that the upper half of the bow only should be used for this

bowing; some, even, limiting it still further to the up-bow. Now if

the wrist be first well exercised the co-operation of the fingers

will come naturally, and a perfect staccato from end to end in either

up or down stroke will be attained.

It should be practised slowly and firmly at first on one note thus:

[Illustration: Musical notes, etc.]

The bow remaining on the string between each note. The action is

really no different to ordinary bowing; it is simply a short crisp

stroke of about an inch in length, a short interval of silence

(without lifting the bow) and then another similar stroke in the same

direction, this being continued to the end of the hair. The part

played by the forefinger is to impart a certain "attack" to each

note, and is best produced by a slight turn of the wrist instead of

an independent pressure of the finger itself. This "attack" is what

the Germans call "ansatz," and consists in making a slight sound at

the initial impulse of each note somewhat resembling the hard

pronunciation of the letter "K." This is a most important sound, and

one that adds greatly to the crispness of one's playing. It should be

produced in the hand, however, as if the arm is called on for this

purpose the tone will become gritty and harsh. In commencing the

study of staccato bowing it is well to confine oneself to the up-bow

form at first. Great care must be exercised when reaching the lower

half of the bow that the notes remain of equal duration and loudness.

Just below the centre of the bow there is found a curious turning

point, a sort of corner that is very difficult to get round. It is

even more noticeable in down bow staccato.

This turning point is in the wrist, for at that part of the stroke

the most important change in the position of this joint takes place.

Therefore, as the muscles are so occupied in their internal

movements, they are not so ready to control the tendency to vibrate

in the bow. Thus, then, as a bad bow is nowhere so easily controlled

as a good one, some inferior bows become quite unmanageable when the

attention of the wrist muscles is so divided. Consequently it is

useless to attempt the attainment of staccato without first being

provided with a thoroughly well-balanced bow. In commencing the down

bow staccato, all tendency to lean on the string and so drag the bow

along in a series of jerks must be checked at once. The bow should be

lightly carried at the heel. This will seem difficult, but practice

will be well repaid.

It may not be out of place to give here a short list of studies and

solos that are concerned chiefly with the art of bowing. Of course

bowing studies are also to be found in all good schools and books of

studies.

CASORTI, "The Technic of the Bow."

DANCLA, "L'Art de l'Archet" (quite easy).

HAAKMAN, "Steadiness and flexibility of the Bow."

MEERTZ, "Twelve Etudes Elementaires" (giving the six fundamental

bowings).

PAPINI, "L'Archet" (the most complete work on the subject).

POZNANSKI, "The Violin and Bow" (contains excellent photographs of

positions).

_Sautille_ can be studied in a pleasing manner by practising pieces

of the "Moto Perpetuo" type. Of these the best are those by Paganini,

Ries, Moszkowski, Papini, G. Saint-George and E. German.

Of solos devoted to particular forms of bowing, the most notable are:

DE BERIOT, "Le Tremolo."

KONTSKI, "La Cascade" (tremolo).

PANOFKA, "Le Staccato."

PRUME, "Les Arpeges."

VIEUXTEMPS, "Les Arpeges."

VIEUXTEMPS, 1st Concerto in E (staccato).

BAZZINI, "Ronde de Lutins" (saltando staccato).

In an earlier section of this work I alluded to the bow as being

"tongue-like"; it is something more, for it is also the breath of the

violin. As breathing is to a vocalist so is bowing to a violinist. It

governs the phrasing, or, rather, is governed by it in the first

instance and then controls its delivery to the listener. Thus it will

be seen that too much attention cannot be paid to the real Art of

Bowing. By which I do not mean the brilliant technical feats of

_arpeggio_, _staccato_, _tremolo_, _etc._, but the pure legato bowing

of cantabile passages. It is in such song-like movements that the

true artist reveals himself by the nearness with which he approaches

that highest of all musical instruments, the human voice. Pure liquid

tone, the inflexions suggested rather than insisted on, clear

phrasing and an avoidance of all extravagance are the hall marks of

an artist, and not the possession of brilliant technique alone. To

those who are content with superficial glitter electro plate is as

good as sterling metal. But critics of discernment (by which I do not

mean _all_ those who write concert notices for the daily papers)

require something of more lasting value.

THE END.