The Violin

In consequence of these supposed improvements, there were, in an equal degree of thickness, many more vibrating fibres than usual, under the immediate pressure of the bridge. To give to the holes of common violins the form of the letter f, was regarded by M. Chanot as generally bad. The turnings of this letter render it necessary to cut a considerable number of fibres, which no longer vibrate under the immediate pressure of the bridge; whilst, in the new violin, without augmenting the mass of fibres, the parallel holes on the sides allowed the attainment of the maximum of the vibrations.

The memorialist insisted on a certain simple principle, as having been confirmed by various positive experiments; namely, that the long fibres are favorable to the production of low tones, and the shorter fibres to the production of high tones. This, he said, should be the guiding principle in the construction of instruments such as the violin. By fixing the sounding-post at the back of the bridge, the fibres of the sounding-board are divided into two arcs, instead of being cut in two on the side of the E string. This division is necessary, because, the high tones being produced on that side, the bridge acts on the shorter arcs like a small lever, whilst, on the side of the large strings, the fibres are enabled to vibrate in the long arcs necessary to produce low tones.

This explanation of the play or action of the instrument is rendered probable by the experiment of placing the sounding-post behind the foot of the bridge, on the side of the thicker strings. These, as well as the E string, then exhibit a greatly diminished power of sound, and the tone of the instrument is considerably damped. It was supposed, therefore, that M. Chanot’s new model, from the fact of its possessing in its texture a greater number of long arcs for producing deep tones, as well as of short ones for high tones, must produce, under a parity of size and principal dimensions, a more powerful effect than the violin of the usual construction, and must be better calculated for the performance of sostenuto passages.

This theory, founded on principles apparently satisfactory, received such confirmation from direct experiment as was held, by the French Committee, to establish the superiority of the structure of the new violin over all others. The ordeal resorted to was a hazardous one. Monsieur Boucher, the eminent player, was requested to bring to the sitting one of the best Straduarius instruments: and, to counteract any effect unfavourable to impartiality of decision, that might arise from the notorious prepossession existing for these fine violins, M. Boucher stepped into an adjoining apartment, and there played alternately the same passages on both instruments.

The whole committee, during three successive experiments, thought they were listening to the Straduarius, whilst M. Boucher was playing on the new violin, and, vice versâ, supposed he was playing on the new instrument, when it was otherwise. This repeated mistake – this double illusion – was considered by the Academy to decide the question in favour of M. Chanot’s violin, which, though made of new wood, partly of two years and partly of six months’ cut, sustained so perilous a competition in the manner described.

Thus, the mystification of the “authorities” was complete – but not so the ulterior success of the innovation, for it found no favour among the musical profession, and soon became a thing of the past. It amounted, in fact, to little more than a return to the old discarded viol shape of the middle ages, with its flatness of face and back, and its less indented outline.

A similar fate to that which attended M. Chanot’s attempt, followed the first experiments of M. Savart, who soon afterwards devised, and with his own hand executed, another example of new construction, on principles which he considered philosophic. Flatness of surface, and straightness of line, were by him also adopted, instead of the curve and flow, which give beauty and distinction to the instrument in ordinary use; while the cross-bar and sounding-post were altered in position, and the two holes or perforations on the face were cut in straight parallel lines, instead of the graceful f form. A more perfect and equable vibration was supposed by M. Savart to result from these new arrangements, and success was claimed for the innovation; but an interval of what seemed more like failure, was observed to take place, until, abandoning his advocacy of an ugly, bluff, box-like pattern, and returning to the beautiful and classic proportions of Straduarius, M. Savart wisely entered into association with an intelligent practical man, Vuillaume, of Paris, a musical instrument-maker. Then – the long-studied and well-digested acoustic theories of the man of science being brought into operation, and tested in experience, by the skilful man of art, a brighter result was obtained – so much brighter, indeed, that there seems little reasonable doubt of its being possible, henceforward, to produce any required number of instruments, equal in primitive merit to those of the great Italian Constructors, and only awaiting the indispensable accession of time, for the consummation of their value; nor are we much disposed to charge Monsieur Fétis with madness, when, under a lively sense of what has been already achieved by Savart and Vuillaume, he points exultingly to Paris, as the Cremona of the nineteenth century!

Into those deductions, drawn from his study of the phenomena of sound, which became to Savart the guiding principles towards the right construction of bowed instruments, it were too long here to enter; – but our English Makers would do well to look into those principles, as detailed in the French scientific journal, “L’Institut” – and to consider curiously the practical result, as shewn in the handywork of Vuillaume, whose instruments, to the number of more than two thousand, have gone forth into the world, to attest the value of the system that has guided his operations.

The adventures of this indefatigable mechanician, in quest of wood for his purpose, – wood of sufficient age and capable of giving out the proper pitch of sound – might fill a chapter. He ransacked Switzerland, entering into the meanest of her hovels, and buying-up the furniture or the wood-work of the châlets, wherever he could detect in it the right resonance, “les conditions d’une bonne sonorité.” He one day went so far as to persuade the curate of a small parish to let him take away the cieling of his sitting-room, and replace it by another. Making his way back to Paris with his “strange-achievéd heap” – his wooden wealth – he forthwith betook himself to the completion of certain machinery, by means of which, as it is asserted, he is enabled to form and hollow out, at will, a “belly” of Straduarius, of Guarnerius, of Amati, or of Magini – with a nicety which the hand, at its very best, can never accomplish. Resolved to omit nothing, he studied finally the varieties of varnish, till he hit upon the exact reflex of that clear, bright, most self-commendatory super-fusion, which we observe as the crowning grace of the fine old instruments.

Of the marvellous accuracy, as a copyist of the old models, that was attained years since by Vuillaume, there is amusing proof, in a story related by M. Fétis, on the authority of the great Violinist himself, who figures in it: —

“On his return-journey from a visit to England, Paganini, with dismay, observed the case containing his admirable Guarnerius to fall from the roof of the diligence. The instrument had sustained manifest injury; – but Vuillaume was in Paris; and Paganini, fixing on him all his hopes, entrusted his violin to him, on descending from the vehicle. The repairs were made with all the care demanded by the beauty of the instrument, and the immense talent of its owner. Every minutest trace of the accident was obliterated – and that which had been the confidant of Paganini’s inspirations was restored to its full charm and power. Whilst yet the depositary of so excellent an instrument, Monsieur Vuillaume was tempted by opportunity to make a copy of it —such a copy as nobody might distinguish from the original. On the day appointed for putting the renowned performer again in possession of his instrument, Vuillaume went to him, and, placing two violins on the table, thus addressed him: “I have so completely succeeded in obliterating every vestige of the accident sustained by your fiddle, as to be quite unable to distinguish it from the other Guarnerius, now beside it, which has been entrusted to me, and which bears a striking resemblance to it. You, who are well acquainted with your own instrument, will relieve me from this embarrassment.” At these words, Paganini changed countenance – stood up in haste – seized a fiddle with each hand – scrutinized and compared them both – and was struck dumb by their perfect similitude. One hope remains; – he snatches up his bow – sends it dancing alternately over the strings of the two instruments – draws prodigies from each. Instead of dissipating his anxiety, this experiment does but increase it. He strides about the room – his hands are clenched – his eyes are on fire! Vuillaume’s triumph had reached its acme. “Compose yourself,” said he, – “here is your violin! – and there– is the copy I have made of it. Keep them both, as memorials of this adventure – and think, sometimes, on the restorer of your instrument!”

Fortunately, the probity of Monsieur Vuillaume is known to equal his talent; else were imitation, by so cunning an artificer, a very ticklish thing. Instruments of his, in fact, have been bought and sold, by musical-instrument-makers themselves, as those of Straduarius, or Guarnerius: law-proceedings have resulted; and Vuillaume’s own invoked testimony has established, by certain undetected private marks, that he was the real author of the instruments in question.

The services rendered to the musical community by the successful labours of Vuillaume, will be best appreciated by those who bear in mind the commercial rarity of the genuine old instruments, and the difficult prices at which it is usual to value them. Their acquisition, in fact, belongs rigidly to the rich; and it often occurs that the best part of an artist’s life has gone by, before his savings have enabled him to possess that which is wanted for the full manifestation of his talent. The substitutes presented by the hand of the modern Frenchman, bear a price somewhat analogous to the modesty of merit itself. Of their real value, the recent “Great Exhibition” in our metropolis gave connoisseurs the opportunity to form some estimate; and the conclusion arrived at is sufficiently denoted by the awarded gold medal. Specimens creditable to the skill of our English Makers, though not resulting from the like diligent investigation into principles, were also displayed on the above-named grand occasion. The names of Betts, Purdy and Fendt, and Simon Forster, occur in connection with these. Examples claiming notice on the convenient score of cheapness, too, were not wanting among the foreign instruments there exhibited. The best of these were from the Tyrol – while others were of the workmanship of Mericourt, in the Vosges, a place which has been denominated the Manchester of musical instrument-making – and not without some show of reason, seeing that, for about four shillings, it supplies the fiddler with a complete instrument, strings and bow included! In the way of “a bargain,” surely nothing can beat this; unless, indeed, they were to throw in the case!

The latest improvement attempted in construction, is, I understand, a discovery patented by an American. It is designed to give greater freedom to the vibration, by omitting the end (or top and bottom) blocks, and substituting an extra bass-bar, which runs longitudinally in contiguity to the back, but without touching it.

The possession of a good bow may be readily conceived to be a matter of no slight importance. With whatever reason the art of making violins may be considered (with the exceptions noticed in this chapter) to have declined since the days of the old makers, it is certain that the bow has been altered much for the better: so much, indeed, as to seem hardly susceptible of further improvement. The bows of Tourte, of Paris, have acquired a European celebrity. Their superiority lies in their diminished weight, with increased elasticity in the stick; in the beautiful uniformity of their bend, which is so regulated as to cause the nearest approach made by the stick to the hair to be exactly in the middle, between the head and the nut; and in the very exact and finished workmanship of the whole. Here, too, acknowledgment is due to the ability of Vuillaume, who has contrived a bow in which two inconveniences, attendant on the previous method, are remedied; so that the hand of the performer is no longer disturbed by those variations in the length, and consequently in the weight, of the stick, which arose from the necessity of making the thumb to follow the shiftings of the nut, whenever the bow was altered as to its tension; while the hair, firmly fixed to a kind of cylindrical nippers, is so arranged as to form a perfectly even surface throughout its length, and to be renewable by the performer himself, when he may desire it.

Let me point the termination of this chapter with a bit of cautionary advice, which, though it concerns bodies politic, invalids, and picture-owners, is not the less suited to the possessors of valuable instruments that require, through some casualty, the aid of a restorative hand: —

Beware of Vampers!

If, in some unhappy, incautious moment, you confide your cherished Steiner or Stradivari to the barbaric hands of one of these profane pretenders, its recovery is hopeless – its constitution is gone!

CHAPTER X

MISCELLANEOUS ANECDOTES, COLLECTED SCRAPS, ECCENTRIC VARIETIES, ETC

“Quæ quibus ante-feram?”

Characteristics of the Fiddle Species.– In the variety of expression, as well as in its quality, the violin has often been signalized for its approximation to the human voice. The finesse of perception of a clever woman has discovered in that remarkable instrument, and its ligneous family, a yet closer approach to human character. The ingenious parallels which this lady has drawn are described by Monsieur Beyle, in a passage which I here translate from his curious and amusing work on Haydn and Mozart. – “In listening to the quartetts of Haydn, this lady felt as if present at a conversation held by four agreeable persons. She found in the First Violin the semblance of a man of considerable intelligence, of the middle time of life, an accomplished talker, and equally capable of sustaining the conversation, as of furnishing the subject of it. In the Second Violin, she recognized a friend of the First, who endeavoured by every possible method to draw out his brilliant qualities, – was rarely occupied about himself, – and kept up the discourse rather by his approbation of what fell from the others, than by advancing any ideas of his own. The Tenor was a solid, profound, and sententious personage, who gave support to the remarks of the First Violin, by maxims of a laconic turn, but of striking truth. As for the Violoncello, ’twas a good woman, of a somewhat babbling inclination, who said nothing to signify overmuch, but yet would not be without her share in the conversation. She contributed a certain grace to it, however, and, whilst she was talking, the other interlocutors got time to breathe! One thing, with respect to her, was not difficult to discover – namely, that she cherished a secret bias for the Tenor, and gave him the preference over his instrumental brethren.”

If these comparisons should appear too fanciful, let it be remembered that the subject is inviting, and might even be carried a good deal further. We should only wonder that Monsieur Beyle’s clever female friend, having contrived to make up so snug a little party, did not still further develop their capabilities, and explain, “avec circonstance,” the matter of their amiable chit-chat. Why she should have chosen, by the by, to assign to the Violoncello the feminine gender, is by no means obvious. According to the general rules of proportion, which govern sex, it would be otherwise. Perhaps the creation of that instrument subsequently to the fiddle, as a help-mate to it, may have suggested this notion to our speculatist; but, n’importe; let us be content, rather than differ with a lady, to allow personification under the softer sex to the instrument in question, which may then figure characteristically, like one of Byron’s heroines, as

“Somewhat large, and languishing, and lazy.”

Apropos of personification – a curious little pamphlet, of a dozen pages only, but containing some ingenious turns of fancy, was printed by Dove, in 1828, from the pen of a Mr. K – , a gentleman of refined taste in various matters of art and literature. It is entitled, “Carluccio and Signora Violina; a musical jeu d’esprit for the benefit of Violinists, in the manner of Lucian;” and it consists of a sort of dialogue between a lover and his mistress – the latter being represented by the Violin. In assigning the feminine gender to the instrument, the author thus accounts for the innovation he has hazarded: – “We have Viola in Shakspeare, and Viola in music. Why not, then, Violina– especially as her voice is treble?”

Sit juvenis quondam, nunc fæmina. —Virg.

To the foregoing hints on distinctive peculiarities among the Fiddle tribe, I am tempted to add a few words about the two extremes that constitute, respectively, the giant and the dwarf of the race; namely, the double-bass (or contra-basso) and the kit. The former of these, then – the double-bass – is a fellow of imposing appearance, with the weight and strength of an Ajax, and a voice that you might conceive him to have borrowed from a thunder-cloud. In the assembled circle, he is dogmatical, slow, and heavy; yet one is forced to confess that there is a depth in all he utters, and that what he wants in brilliancy, is amply made up in profundity. He hears the flourishes of those around him, but seems to take little heed of them – and sometimes makes a solemn pause, as if in meditation, while the rest are chattering away. His manner, even when he perfectly agrees with what is advanced by others, has a bluffness in it, that is not very unlike dissent. His arguments are of the sledge-hammer kind, knocking down contradiction. He is the Doctor Johnson of the society – he settles matters with a growl. With all his surliness, however, he is a thoroughly good fellow at bottom, and, as he is well-understood, and pretty much humoured, by his associates, the general harmony is none the worse for his presence – nay, rather, would be very sensibly subtracted from, were he absent. – As for the kit, he is a pert little whipper-snapper, with a voice as uppish as his notions of himself, and a figure any thing but symmetrical, since it is, at once, by an odd contrariety, stunted in height, and lanky in appearance. He is hardly ever seen in the company of his own kith and kin, his own fraternity of the larger growth – for his vanity leads him to seek distinction on any terms, and so he goes into dancing academies, or among family step-hop-and-jump-learners, where he is a sort of cock-of-the-walk, and where, to judge from the quaint and abruptly intermitted strains that proceed from him, he seems to crow and chuckle at the absurdities of the “awkward squad” whom he delights to set in motion. As he is prone to imitation, and proud of his squeaking voice, you will sometimes hear him mimic the style and accents of his bigger brethren, behind their backs; but these attempts incline you only to a smile – which he mistakes for approbation. On the whole, though tolerated, he is never respected. The very person who introduces him into such society as that just mentioned, makes a mere convenience of him; but, because he is usually carried thither in the pocket of his introducer, he fancies himself, forsooth, a prodigious pet! Was there ever such impudence?

If there be, by a strange possibility, any special admirers of the Pigmy, who shall think him too sharply dealt with in the above sketch, let them turn for comfort to Sir John Hawkins, in whose pages they will find mention of a certain London dancing-master, named Pemberton, who was so consummate a handler of the kit, as to be able to play entire solos on it, and to exhibit in his performance (so declares the statement) all the graces and elegancies of the violin, although himself a man of the most corpulent make! Besides this consolatory reference, let me hint to the affecters of the kit, that possibly the classic term “lyra jocosa” might, without much violence, be appropriated to the honour of their queer little favourite!

A Caricature repudiated.– A correspondent of the Harmonicon, who has played on the violin amusingly enough with his pen, but appears, from sundry indicative points, to have been no bowman, has designated the instrument as “a box, half beech, half fir, on which are stretched the entrails of a cat,” and from which, sounds are drawn “with a few horse-hairs,” and which, moreover, “cannot be held without a distortion of the frame, and obliges us to assume an attitude so disagreeable to the head, by the chin of which, it is held.” – This is a description wherewith the true Amateur will hold no sympathy: he will regard it no otherwise than with “hatefullest disrelish.” He will not fail to remember, too, that it is the sheep’s interior which is laid under contribution, and not the cat’s. Then, again, doubtless, the depression of the chin is sometimes the reverse of agreeable; but this is an objection rarely in great force, except with those round-headed gentlemen who have short chins. A little punchy man, with a broad, baffling, double chin, cannot be great upon the fiddle – and should not aim at it. It is the business of a perfect performer to have a long chin – a chin whose inclination or “facilis descensus” amounts to a fixed welcome towards the instrument, which it embraces with a continuity that in no degree compromises the head. Such a chin is the fiddler’s firm friend; – its holdfast properties entitle it, as fitly as the virtuous man in Horace, to the appellation of “tenax propositi.” Such a chin, for example, had Paganini.

Ambition let down.– During the last year of Spagnoletti’s Saturnian rule at the Opera-House, when the reins of leadership were somewhat relaxed in the hands of that good senior, it chanced that one of his subjects, scarcely less ambitious than was Jove of old, and equally hopeful of his own succession, aspired prematurely to a position in the orchestral realm as elevated as the throne of the great directing power. In plainer language, a certain noted First Violinist, scarcely satisfied with being second to the Leader, sought to magnify his importance by the help of a stool that was considerably more stilted in its proportions than that occupied by his brethren of the band. Thus raised into notice, he managed, with many flourishes of his bow-arm, to divide the public attention with the Leader himself, and was enabled to look down on all besides. But pride does not triumph thus to the end. Spagnoletti himself, perhaps indisposed, through his then feebler condition, to contend with usurpation, took no notice of this upstart proceeding; but the members of the band, feeling it to be an indignity to their Leader, still more than to themselves, took counsel together for the purpose of putting it down. The expedient they hit upon was equally ingenious and successful. One of the carpenters of the establishment had private instructions to saw off a small bit from the lanky legs of the stool, previously to each night’s sitting in the orchestra; and, by this graduated system of reduction, or what musicians would term a “sempre diminuendo,” the obnoxious pretender was “let down easy,” and brought to a reasonable level. Thus, though not going down, in his own estimation, he was much depressed, in the eyes of all beside. Whether he thought it worth while, when he discovered his situation, to enquire how it happened, is more than remains on record – but, if he did so, it is easy to conceive the sort of vague reply by which his mystification would be “made absolute.”