Part 5
There can be no doubt whatever that the Cremonese and Brescian makers were exceedingly choice in the selection of their material, and their discrimination in this particular does not appear to have risen so much from a regard to the beauty as to the acoustic properties of the wood, to which they very properly gave the first place in their consideration. We have evidence of much weight upon this interesting question in the frequent piecings found on the works of Cremona makers, pointing to a seeming preference on their part to retain a piece of wood of known acoustic properties rather than to work in a larger or better preserved portion at the probable expense of tone. The time and care required for such a delicate operation must have been sufficient to have enabled the maker, had he been so minded, to have made a complete instrument. There is also ample proof that Joseph Guarneri possessed wood to the exceptional qualities of which he was fully alive, and the same may be said of Stradivari, Ruggeri, and others. It is scarcely reasonable to suppose that in the seventeenth century there was a dearth in Italy of timber suitable for the manufacture of Violins, and that in consequence these eminent makers were compelled to patch and join their material to suit their purpose. They were men who were in the enjoyment of a patronage certainly sufficient to enable them to follow their calling without privation of any kind. Scarcity of pine and sycamore, good or bad, could not have been the cause, since we find Italian cabinet-work of great beauty that was manufactured at this same period. The plane-tree and pine used by the Amati, Stradivari, and the chief masters in Italy, was usually of foreign growth, and was taken from the Tyrol and Istria. Its value was, therefore, in advance of Italian wood, but hardly so much as to place it beyond the reach of the Cremonese masters. It is, further, improbable that these masters of the art should have expended such marvellous care and toil over their work, pieced as it frequently was like mosaic, when for a trifling sum they could have avoided such a task to their ingenuity by purchasing fresh wood. We are therefore forced to admit that there must have been some cause of great weight which induced them to apply so much time and labour, and that the problem can only be accounted for by the solution before proposed, viz., that external appearance was of less importance than the possession of acoustic properties thoroughly adapted to the old makers' purpose, and that the scarcity of suitable wood was such as to make them hoard and make use of every particle. The selection of material was hence considered to be of prime importance by these makers; and by careful study they brought it to a state of great perfection. The knowledge they gained of this vital branch of their art is enveloped in a similar obscurity to that which conceals their famous varnish, and in these branches of Violin manufacture rests the secret of the Italian success, and until it is rediscovered the Cremonese will remain unequalled in the manufacture of Violins.
We may now pass to the consideration of the various constituent parts of a Violin. It will be found, if a Violin be taken to pieces, that it is constructed of no less than fifty-eight separate parts, an astonishing number of factors for so small and simple-looking an instrument. The back is made of maple or sycamore, in one or two parts; the belly of the finest quality of Swiss pine, and from a piece usually divided; the sides, like the back, of maple, in six pieces, bent to the required form by means of a heated iron; the linings, which are used to secure the back and belly to the sides, are twelve in number, sometimes made of lime-tree, but also of pine. The bass or sound-bar is of pine, placed under the left foot of the bridge in a slightly oblique position, in order to facilitate the vibrating by giving about the same position as the line of the strings. The divergence is usually one-twelfth of an inch, throughout its entire length of ten inches. It is curious to discover that this system of placing the bar was adopted by Brensius of Bologna, a Viol-maker of the fifteenth century, and by Gasparo da Salo. The later Violin-makers, however, for the most part, do not appear to have followed the example, they having placed it in a straight line, thus leaving the system to be re-discovered. The bar of the Violin not only serves the purpose of strengthening the instrument in that part where the pressure of the bridge is greatest, but forms a portion of the structure at once curious and deeply interesting; it may indeed be called the nervous system of the Violin, so exquisitely sensitive is it to external touch. The slightest alteration in its position will effect such changes in the tone as often to make a good Violin worthless. Those troublesome notes technically known as "wolf notes" by its delicate adjustment are sometimes removed, or passed to intervals where the disagreeable sound is felt with less intensity. Numerous attempts have been made to reduce these features to a philosophy, but the realisation of the coveted discovery appears as distant as ever. The most minute variation in the construction of the instrument necessitates a different treatment of this active agent as regards its conjunction with the bridge; and when it is considered that scarcely two Violins can be found of exactly identical structure, it must be admitted that the difficulties in the way of laying down any set of hard and fast rules for their regulation seem to be insuperable.
The next important feature of the internal organism is the sound-post, which serves many purposes. It is the medium by which the vibratory powers of the instrument are set in motion; it gives support to the right side of the belly, it transmits vibrations, and regulates both the power and quality of tone. The terms used for this vital factor of a Violin on the Continent at once prove its importance. The Italians and French call it the "Soul," and the Germans the "Voice." If we accept the bass-bar as the nervous system of a Violin, the sound-post may be said to perform the functions of the heart with unerring regularity. The pulsations of sound are regulated by this admirable contrivance. If mellowness of quality be sought, a slight alteration of its position or form will produce a favourable change of singular extent; if intensity of tone be requisite, the sound-post is again the regulator. It must, of course, be understood that its power of changing the quality of the tone is limited in proportion to the constitutional powers of the instrument in each case. It is not pretended that a badly constructed instrument can be made a good one by means of this subtle regulator, any more than a naturally weak person can be made robust by diet and hygiene.
The position of the sound-post is usually one-eighth to three-eighths of an inch behind the right foot of the bridge, the distance being variable according to the model of the instrument. If the Violin be high-built, the post requires to be nearer the bridge, that its action may be stronger; whilst flat-modelled instruments require that the post be set further away from the bridge. It is not possible to have any uniform arrangement of the sound-post in all instruments; as we have remarked before in reference to the bass-bar, the variations in the thickness, outline, model, &c., of the Violin are so frequent as to defy identity of treatment; uniformity has been sought for, but without success.
The post can only be adjusted by a skilful workman, who either plays himself or has the advantage of having the various adjustments tested by a performer. The necessity of leaving this exceedingly delicate matter in practised hands cannot be too strongly impressed upon the amateur, for the damage done in consequence of want of skill is often irreparable.
There are two methods of setting the sound-post in the instrument: the first fixes it in such a position as to place the grain of the post parallel with the grain of the belly; the second sets it crosswise.
The next important feature to be mentioned is the bridge, which forms no small part of the vibrating mechanism of the instrument, and needs the utmost skill in its arrangement. Its usual position is exactly between the two small niches marked in each sound-hole, but this arrangement is sometimes altered in the case of the stop being longer or shorter. Many forms of bridges have been in use at different periods, but that now adopted is, without doubt, the best. In selecting a bridge great care is requisite that the wood be suitable to the constitution of the Violin. If the instrument is wanting in brilliancy, a bridge having solidity of fibre is necessary; if wanting in mellowness, one possessing soft qualities should be selected.
We now pass to the neck of the Violin, which is made of sycamore or plane-tree. Its length has been increased since the days of the great Italian masters, who seem to have paid but little attention to this portion of the instrument, in regard to its appearance and as to the wood used for its manufacture, which was of the plainest description. It may be observed that in those times the florid passages which we now hear in Violin music were in their infancy, the first and second positions being those chiefly used; hence the little attention paid to the handle of the instrument. Modern requirements have made it imperative that the neck should be well shaped, neither too flat nor too round, but of a happy medium. The difficulties of execution are sensibly lessened when due attention is paid to this requirement.
The finger-board is of ebony, and varies a little in length according to the position of the sound-holes. To form the board properly is a delicate operation, for if it be not carefully made the strings jar against it, and the movements of the bow are impeded. The nut, or rest, is that small piece of ebony over which the strings pass on the finger-board.
The purfling is composed of three strips of lime-tree, two of which are stained black. Whalebone purfling has been frequently used, particularly by the old Amsterdam makers.
The principal parts of the instrument have now been described, and there remain only the pegs, blocks, strings, and tail-piece, the sum of which makes up the number of fifty-eight constituent parts as before mentioned. There is still, however, one item of the construction to be mentioned which does not form a separate portion of the Violin, but which is certainly worthy of notice, viz., the button, which is that small piece of wood against which the heel of the neck rests. The difficulty of making this apparently insignificant piece can only be understood by those who have gone through the various stages of Violin manufacture. The amount of finish given to the button affects in a great measure the whole instrument, and if there is any defect of style it is sure to be apparent here. It is a prominent feature, and the eye naturally rests upon it: as the key-stone to the arch, so is the button to the Violin.
The sound-holes, or _f_-holes, it is almost needless to remark, are features of vital importance. Upon the form given to them, and the manner of cutting them, largely depend the volume and quality of tone. The Italian makers of Brescia and Cremona appear to have been aware of the singular influence the formation of the sound-hole has upon the production and quality of sound. The variety of original shapes they gave to them is evidence of their knowledge. Appearance in keeping with the outline of their design may have influenced them in some measure, but not entirely. Most makers used patterns from which to cut their sound-holes; Joseph Guarneri and some others appear to have drawn them on the belly, and cut them accordingly.
From the foregoing remarks upon the various portions of the Violin it may be assumed that the reader has gained sufficient insight into the process of its manufacture to enable him to dispense with a more minute description of each stage.
In conclusion, I cannot refrain from cautioning possessors of good instruments against entrusting them into the barbaric hands of pretended repairers, who endeavour to persuade them into the belief that it is necessary to do this, that, and the other for their benefit. The quack doctors of the Violin are legion--they are found in every town and city, ready to prey upon the credulity of the lovers of Fiddles, and the injury they inflict on their helpless patients is frequently irreparable. Unfortunately, amateurs are often prone to be continually unsettling their instruments by trying different bars, sound-posts, &c., without considering the danger they run of damaging their property instead of improving it. Should your instrument need any alteration, no matter how slight, consult only those who have made the subject a special study. There are a few such men to be found in the chief cities of Europe, men whose love for the instrument is of such a nature that it would not permit them to recommend alterations prejudicial to its well-being.
SECTION III Italian and other Strings
Upon the strings of the Violin depends in a great measure the successful regulation of the instrument. If, after the careful adjustment of bridge, sound-post, and bass-bar, strings are added which have not been selected with due care and regard to their relative proportion, the labour expended upon the important parts named is at once rendered useless. Frequently the strings are the objects least considered when the regulation of a Violin is attempted; but if this be the case, results anything but satisfactory ensue. It is, therefore, important that every Violinist should endeavour to make himself acquainted with the different varieties and powers of strings, that he may arrange his instrument with due facility.
The remarkable conservatism attending the structural formation of the Violin exists more or less in the appliances necessary for the awakening of its dormant music. If we turn to its pegs, we find them of the same character as the peg of its far-removed ancestor, the monochord; and if we compare the Italian peg of the seventeenth century with a modern one, the chief difference lies in the latter being more gross and ugly. Upon turning to the bridge, we see that the bridge of to-day is almost identical with the bridge of Stradivari; and when we come to the strings of the Violin, we discover that we have added but little, if anything, to the store of information regarding them possessed by our forefathers.
In, perhaps, the earliest book on the Lute, that of Adrian Le Roy, published in Paris in 1570, and translated into English in 1574,[1] we read: "I will not omit to give you to understand how to know strings." "It is needful to prove them between the hands in the manner set forth in the figures hereafter pictured, which show on the finger and to the eye the difference from the true with the false." The instructions here given, it will be seen, are those set forth by Louis Spohr in his "Violin School." In the famous musical work of Merseene, published in 1648, we find an interesting account of strings; he says they are of "metal, and the intestines of sheep." "The thicker chords of the great Viols and of Lutes are made of thirty or forty single intestines, and the best are made in Rome and some other cities in Italy. This superiority is owing to the air, the water, or the herbage on which the sheep of Italy feed." He adds that "chords may be made of silk, flax, or other material," but that "animal chords are far the best." The experience of upwards of two centuries has not shaken the soundness of Merseene's opinion of the superiority of gut strings over those made of silk and steel. Although strings of steel and silk are made to some extent on account of their durability and their fitness for warm climates, no Violinist familiar with the true quality of tone belonging to his instrument is likely to torture his ears with the sound of strings made with thread or iron. Continuing our inquiries among the old musical writers in reference to the subject of strings, we find Doni says in his musical treatise, published in 1647: "There are many particulars relating to the construction of instruments which are unknown to modern artificers, as, namely, that the best strings are made when the north and the worst when the south wind blows," a truism well understood by experienced string manufacturers. Thomas Mace, in his curious book on the Lute, enters at some length into the question of strings, and speaks in glowing terms of his _Venetian Catlins_. The above references to strings, met with in the writers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, indicate a full knowledge of the most important facts concerning them on the part of the musicians and makers of those days; and notwithstanding our superior mechanical contrivances in the manufacture, it is doubtful whether modern strings are generally equal to those made in times when leisure waited on quality, in lieu of speed on quantity.
[Footnote 1: Fetis, in his notice of Le Roy, states that the first edition of this rare book was published in 1557, and was translated by J. Alford into English in 1568.]
[Illustration: Hands testing strings.]
Musical strings are manufactured in Italy, Germany, France, and England. The Italians rank first, as in past times, in this manufacture, their proficiency being evident in the three chief requisites for string, viz., high finish, great durability, and purity of sound. There are manufactories at Rome, Naples, Padua, and Verona, the separate characteristics of which are definitely marked in their produce. Those strings which are manufactured at Rome are exceedingly hard and brilliant, and exhibit a slight roughness of finish. The Neapolitan samples are smoother and softer than the Roman, and also whiter in appearance. Those of Padua are highly polished and durable, but frequently false. The Veronese strings are softer than the Paduan, and deeper in colour. The variations described are distinct, and the more remarkable that all the four kinds are produced by one and the same nation; as, however, the raw material is identical throughout Italy, the process of manufacture must be looked upon as the real cause of the difference noticed. The German strings now rank next to the Italian, Saxony being the seat of manufacture. They may be described as very white and smooth, the better kinds being very durable. Their chief fault arises from their being over-bleached, and hence faulty in sound. The French take the third place in the manufacture. Their strings are carefully made, and those of the larger sizes answer well; but the smaller strings are wanting in durability. The English manufacture all qualities, but chiefly the cheaper kinds; they are durable, but unevenly made, and have a dark appearance.
The cause of variation in quality of the several kinds enumerated arises simply from the difference of climate. In Italy an important part of the manufacture is carried on in the open air, and the beautiful climate is made to effect that which has to be done artificially in other countries. Hence the Italian superiority. Southern Germany adopts, to some extent, similar means in making strings; France, to a less degree; while England is obliged to rely solely on artificial processes. It therefore amounts to this--the further from Italy the seat of manufacture, the more inferior the string.
From the foregoing references we find that strings, although called "catgut," are not made from the intestines of that domestic animal. Whether they were originally so made, and hence derive their name, it is impossible to learn. Marston, the old dramatist, says:
"How the musicians Hover with nimble sticks o'er squeaking Crowds,[2] Tickling the dried guts of a mewing cat."
We may be sure, however, that had the raw material been drawn from that source up to the present time, there would have been no need to check the supply of the feline race by destroying nine kittens out of ten; on the contrary, the rearing of cats would indeed have been a lucrative occupation. A time-honoured error is thus commemorated in a word, the origin of which must be ascribed to want of thought. If the number of cats requisite for the string manufacture be considered for a moment, it is easy to see that Shylock's "harmless necessary" domestics are under no contribution in this matter. Strings are made from the intestines of the sheep and goat, chiefly of the former. The best qualities are made from the intestines of the lamb, the strength of which is very great if compared with those of a sheep more than a year old. This being so, the chief manufacture of the year is carried on in the month of September, the September string-makings being analogous to October brewings. The demand for strings made at this particular season far exceeds the supply, and notably is this the case with regard to strings of small size, which have to bear so great a strain that if they were not made of the best material there would be little chance of their endurance. To enter into a description of the various processes of the manufacture is unnecessary, as it would form a subject of little interest to the general reader; we may therefore conclude this brief notice of strings by a few rules to be observed in their selection.
[Footnote 2: The old English name for a Fiddle.]