MODERN VIOLIN MAKERS
Never have makers of the leading instrument been more numerous. The
mystery and romance of that wonderful tone, enclosed within the
apparently simple, box-like affair called the violin, has proved an
irresistible attraction, and the reward awaiting those who discover the
connection and its utilisation as in past times, has fired the zeal of
honest builders, and drawn to the art a host of amateurs, experimenters,
and theorists. Never has the violin been more earnestly considered at
every point; the material for its construction selected with greater
care, or workmanship executed with more deliberate attention to tone.
The modern builder may justly claim the title of artist and, but for the
lingering miasma of exploded theories, have much reason to congratulate
himself.
But his troubles do not always come from those outside the pale. Within
his ranks is a small section, large by virtue of their insistent
clamour, upon whose shoulders the mantle of Stradivari has fallen; those
who have discovered the “secret” of his tone and varnish!--not, we may
remark, for the first time in fiddle history. Fortunately the green-eyed
monster is rampant among them; each is impatient of the claims of the
other. Their amateurs are tarred with the same brush, while theorists
indulge their bitterness and sarcasm in letters to the fiddle Press.
Thus, like the famous cats, are they likely to destroy each other, and
bring to naught their cupidity and ability to trade upon prevailing
ignorance.
It is the fashion to consider that the mere maker of a violin cannot,
with much authority, tell the player anything about tone. To some extent
this is due to the ridiculous claims of the mountebanks; to the wearers
of the Stradivarian mantle. I admit the opinion is fairly general, and I
also admit the claims of the great experts and connoisseurs as
unequalled judges of tone. For obvious reasons they would give a fairer
criticism on the tone of Joseph Guarnerius, for example, than Joseph
would have been able to render on the tone of his contemporaries. But is
the connoisseur capable of creating the tone which he judges with such
accuracy? He is not. It is a feat entirely beyond his powers, just as it
is beyond his power to fashion the replica of a violin upon which is
exercised his skilful criticism. The creation of tone is a work
belonging to the maker of the violin, and his experience of the subject
differs from that of the experts and judges. His work fixes upon him a
set of obligations and responsibilities with which connoisseurs and
players never come in contact. He has, so to speak, an inside knowledge,
while that possessed by others is, in its very nature, superficial; that
is to say, they judge, hear, and use the tone of a violin, but remain in
ignorance as to the process of its creation. This, of course, refers to
the new fiddles. With the old the question of tone does not arise.
Criticism is frequently expressed upon the published claims of the
modern makers, especially upon the brazen announcements of those to whom
the minds of the old masters are as an open book! It has sometimes
appeared to me that, in this age of brilliant commercialism, art is too
frequently relegated to the status of a pastime devoid of serious
purpose; unworthy of exploiting for the benefit of anybody; that the
artist is also looked upon as a sort of drone within the industrial
hive, or his occupation the laborious but useless pursuit of a kind of
_ignis fatuus_. Yet art survives commercially, if only as veneer upon
the surface of crude utility, proving beyond doubt that dilettantism, at
least, still lives! Thus do art and commercialism come closely in
contact, and if the artist would exist he must make his appeal after the
only manner which the age understands and--advertise! However it may
have been in other times, in these days patrons are too busy to make a
“beaten path” in the wilderness. If they do not demand, they at least
expect the vendor of the beautiful to announce himself.
With some makers the desire for favourable opinions upon tone amounts
almost to a passion, leading them to all manner of mistakes. There is
little objection in making public the opinions which may be expressed
upon the tone of a violin, particularly if made in the Press, or some
authority other than the player, but it is well to remember that the
value of such opinions is thoroughly nullified by exploiting on their
strength violins less worthy. “Testimonials” have been given for violins
which, in the bulk, were tonally worthless. An instance is recent
history, the makers profiting largely by exploiting examples which they
seldom, if ever, duplicated--with results no less disastrous to
themselves than to their credulous patrons. “Testimonials,” therefore,
are worthless. They refer to one violin only, and not to others by the
same maker; a statement which cannot be too often repeated, or too well
remembered.
How obviously, then, is indicated the pathway to lasting success; to the
satisfaction of all patrons; to fame built upon a solid tonal
foundation.