Ole Bull, in the last interview which he had with Mr. Colton, said to
him: “You have the tools, the knowledge, and the time for this work, and
you will be able to give at last a rule by which less skilled workmen
may be guided in the placing of the oblique bar.” After Mr. Colton had
sent the above note, a query addressed to him brought the following
response, which it is hoped he will pardon us for printing, as it gives
just what ought to be known in order to save violins from being injured
in the hands of ordinary workmen claiming to understand the principle of
the oblique bar:—
The second attempt in placing the bar would be, in the hands of the
ordinary repairer, nearly as much of an experiment as the first. In the
first place, he lacks the apparatus for determining the spring. In
regard to the position relative to the foot of the bridge and degree of
obliquity, these appear to be governed by the height of the top and
thickness of material. The higher the top, the more the obliquity; the
thicker the top, the more the bar can be removed from under the foot of
the bridge. I presume I have placed a hundred bars, and have used up
many cheap violins in trying to arrive at something like a governing
principle, and even now the first attempt may not be all I could wish.
Mr. Bull, aided by his own experience, and by some marvelous intuition,
compared to which the knowledge of the average repairer is mere
clodhopperism, appeared to be able to determine the requirements of an
instrument submitted to him. One reason why I did not speak more
strongly in favor of the general adoption of the oblique position was
because, apart from the spring, the ratio of which and means of
determining it I believe I have settled, I could not lay down a positive
and definite rule regarding the place and degree of obliquity which
would apply to all cases. So I did not like to advocate on my own
account, or by inference, that of Mr. Bull, the immediate advisability
of an operation the result of which might be in any way doubtful. When I
think of the horror with which the connoisseur contemplates even the
idea of removing the top of his valued instrument, I feel that, beyond
sticking stoutly to the truth of Mr. Bull’s theory, I am not in a
condition to competently advise.
Mr. Bull’s second attempts were almost always successful. I honestly
think I should not fail more than once. But if I say this, I am calling
attention to my own work, Mr. Bull having passed away, when it belongs
to him.