A TONELESS METHOD OF VALUATION
It is the business of those who value old violins to determine the age,
maker (if known), country of origin, “school,” genuineness and condition
of various parts, and, from the result of these observations, to place a
money value upon the instrument. All this is done without any reference
to the tone; without placing a bow to the strings; without, in fact,
there being any necessity for the expert to be able to play at all. An
equally reliable opinion will be given if the old violin be without
strings, finger-board, tailpiece, bridge, soundpost or bassbar, the top
separated from the body, and the neck dislocated; that is to say, if the
fiddle be utterly unplayable.[A] This is precisely the system of
valuation under which the dealer in old violins acquires his stock, and
when that stock is put into a saleable condition, it is the system of
valuation under which it is sold. Whatever tone the old fiddle may or
may not possess (and as to this the buyer may satisfy himself), the
curio value remains intact. It is the predominant asset, and is
unaffected save by considerations involving the object. Let anything
connected with the object prove questionable and down goes this curio
value at once. Here is an example: A violin, supposed to be by a famous
old maker, was well known in Europe for years. Its value was a thousand
pounds. It carried many of the ear-marks of its supposed maker, and
contained his genuine label. In due time it came into the possession of
a celebrated London connoisseur who had doubts. Removing the label, he
found beneath the label of the famous maker’s son. The violin was then
valued at five hundred pounds, the curio value of the son’s best work.
_But the tone remained the same!_ This example deals with the known
great violins; those of tonal repute. Let us see how it affects the
commoner old fiddle; those that come the way of most tone seekers. A
fine-looking old violin is acquired at a supposed bargain price of
twenty pounds. Its faded and tattered label reads:
Jacobus Stainer in Absam
prope Oenipontum. 1664.
After possessing this instrument with much pride for a time the owner
takes it to an expert to ascertain its _real_ value, and is told at the
first glance that it is a modern imitation, made in Germany, and its
value is thirty shillings. Here again the tone remains unaltered, but
the instrument is _not old_. As to these imitations, most deceive only
the inexperienced. Others, however, are more ambitious, being carefully
doctored by expert “fakers,” and the old masters imitated--in everything
save tone--with diabolical ingenuity. We are constantly reading how
paintings and other works of art, supposed to be the product of some
ancient and gifted hand, are finally discovered to be spurious; but not
before they have succeeded in imposing upon the experts of national
museums! These things are judged solely by their appearance, just as the
violin is judged, and so long as this system continues, just so long
must every one relying upon it be prepared for deception in two
directions; the imitation old master on the one hand, and the genuine
old fiddle of poor tone on the other. Would it not be a move in the
right direction to rely upon tone alone; upon something which, at
least, is capable of speaking for itself?
It must not be supposed from the foregoing that the great expert and
connoisseur knows nothing of tone. He often knows very much about
it--more, perhaps, than many who actually make violins. This knowledge
he has gained through a unique experience, covering a wide range of
instruments by many old masters, and because he is often a player of the
violin himself. But all experts are not great, nor are all of them
players of the violin. There is, indeed, under such a system, no need
for them to possess a knowledge of tone, or any ability to produce it
from the instrument. If, therefore, the old violin is not judged and
valued from the standpoint of its tone it is not the fault of the
expert, but the fault of the system under which he exercises his
calling. This system offers protection only to the collector and, in the
interest of all players (who receive from it no tone protection
whatever), should be abolished, or at least modified to include as
binding a guarantee for tone value as, without hesitation, is given for
curio value.
If the lover and seeker of tone has some experience of the matter; if he
is so fortunate as to number among his friends a candid and impartial
dealer; he is aware that the bulk of old fiddles possess but small tone
value; that it is age, repute, or appearance that sells them. Many
players have purchased old violins which are genuine enough, but
practically worthless in tone; such tonal glories as they possibly once
possessed having long since departed. But the maker’s name remains; the
instrument is still the veritable production of an old maker. In the
case of paintings the ravages of time detract from a single asset, and
matter little. Your painting may be chequered with cracks and otherwise
show that time has passed across it no gentle hand. Its crumbling canvas
may be bolstered up from the back without any detriment to its single
value as a work of art, and it may slumber in the mansion or the museum
secure from every hurt save the desiccating influence of the passing
years. According to the experts the violin should be similarly situated
and have but a single asset: that of an artistic object. If it were not
called upon to exercise the function of a musical instrument all would
be well. It would, like the painting, remain a rare work and nothing
more. As such it would repose in its cabinet without ever a bow being
drawn across its strings. As a curiosity that would be its legitimate
place. Should any player drag it forth to fulfil another purpose, his
must be the risk. Should he find this purpose accomplished, well and
good. If not, he must be satisfied in the possession of a curiosity, and
accept, with what patience he can command, the lack of tone.
For a century or more the toneless pariahs among “genuine old” fiddles
have roamed from place to place, and from country to country. Like the
Wandering Jew, they are never at rest. Countless amateurs have owned
them, treasured them, found them out, and sent them forth again. Some
bear the scars of fruitless operations, for it is the fashion among the
inexperienced to attribute the lack of tone in all violins to faults of
adjustment. In one way or another the attempt is made to accomplish what
the maker of the fiddle failed to do. As to this, there is a difference
between adjusting a fine-toned violin, and trying by the same means, or
by any means whatsoever, to create tone in a fiddle that never possessed
any. The many aids and improvers of tone may, indeed, alter for the
better that which could not well be worse, but to say that any of them
will “create the tone of a fine Italian” is a statement very far from
fact.
I have now defined the position of the old violin as a musical
instrument, and as a curiosity. The new violin has no status which the
expert can recognise, because it is worth nothing as a curio. Unlike
the ancient fiddle, it has but one asset, tone, and, according to
possession of this attribute, is its value high or low. Being outside
the calculation of the expert valuer, tone has neither standard nor
status, nor any recognisable money value. The system under which the old
violin is judged, therefore, cannot and does not apply to the new. _In
fact, there is no existing method of valuing a new violin!_ As I deal
with the modern fiddle in another place, let us proceed with the
consideration of the old and acquaint the reader with the Standard and
Types of that grand tone against which all violins, whether new or old,
should be measured.