CHAPTER XVI.
OF VARNISH AND VARNISHING.
To write an exhaustive essay on this most absorbing subject before us, to go into any manner of detail at all in the present work, is not my intention. It is far too wide, too subtle, and, in my opinion, is an art of itself, requiring not only great space in which to voice its merits, its component parts, and the thousand and one compounds in which those parts assimilate, but the calm of the study rather than the bustle of the workshop, given out deliberately by him whose conclusions are based on the sound issues arising from momentous research, careful analysis of former old examples, and an utter abhorrence of prejudice, for or against this or that compound or colour—prejudice, mind, actuating choice.
But in continuation, though somewhat in parenthesis, a choice based on determined observation of a matter is quite another thing; and I tell you at once my experience as between spirit and oil varnish condemns the former, whilst it very strongly advocates the latter; and when one considers that it is in the nature of oil to assimilate with wood, and to throw up its beauties, and whilst a mellowness clings to the very name, the reverse on all points being the case with spirit, the surprise is that varnish other than of oil should be tolerated.
Besides, see the difference in wear. Use a violin coated with spirit, and if the friction from its employment be severe, you have cracks, pieces chipping here and there, the instrument getting barer and barer daily, so that in time little of it, the varnish, is left. But it is not so with oil; the wear is wear, not in chips, but in gradual diminishing of its substance, always a something being left; added to which a beauty springs from such, in that softer gradations of colour radiate and form a greater depth, from the fact of such colour or colours being more readily absorbed.
Again, in their relations to Tone, I place the oil varnishes first; and I think the point is pretty generally conceded, for what is on the face power, which some attribute to the brittle, assertive nature of the gums hardened by alcohol, is not in reality such, but often aggressive noise, losing itself the more you retreat from it, leaving real tone little to say for itself.
But coat the violin with oil; you certainly cannot complain of loud, rasping responses to the call of the bow, whilst you can make some assertion as to quality. And, remember, as the soft nature of the oil assumes a harder tendency day by day, so will increase the sonority of the tones, whilst retaining the beauty of character with which they began. Therefore, I shall draw your attention to the use of oil varnish, utterly discarding that of spirit.
But to what oil varnish is not my present purpose; why should I seek to close the door on research and on experiment? It is for you, students, to take home, each one of you, the lesson of the mighty failure of thousands gone before you, in inability to bring to a finish that upon which they have spent so many anxious hours, and do something different and better. It is my intention to teach you, step by step, how to lay on what you prepare for the brush: but not to say "get this or that oil," or "this or that colour," except in the abstract—red, orange, amber, yellow, etc., etc., being names only.
I say this at once so that there may be no mistake—so that none can say I use this or that: my own varnish and colouring are my own solely, and I reserve the secret for the benefit of my family, should it prove of value after my career be ended.
Fashion a piece of wood so that it fits easily into the hole at the end of the violin in which, later, the end pin is inserted. It must have a rough sort of handle, because by it you will hold the instrument when you have occasion otherwise than by the neck; for you must on no account touch the wood before you varnish, nor afterwards, with your hands, nor must you allow others to do so, when, in your pardonable pride of heart, you show your creation to your friends.
With a clean sponge, wrung out of tepid water, and a camel-hair brush for parts where the sponge will not be of service, go all over your violin, but do not wet it heavily—far from it; and when quite dry, on the slightly roughened surface thus left, place a yellow or amber coating of turpentine, thoroughly mixing with it a little of the oil varnish selected by you along with your colouring matter as you arrange, yellow or amber. To do this well, and for future use, you must have half to one inch flat camel-hair and fine hog-hair brushes. A round hog-hair brush, medium size, is good for this initial coating (some call it sizing; but I think this is misleading—"size" being generally understood to bear reference to glue, and we want none of that under varnish.)
This should be dry in about two or three days, when you may lay on a second course, less turpentine and rather more varnish; also less yellow and a very little red. This will take somewhat longer to dry, and please observe that the more varnish (if it be oil and gum, pure and simple) so much longer it will be in drying; and, as you advance to the final stage, you will gradually discard the turpentine altogether, as you will the yellow, colouring at last with red only.
As you advance step by step, and before you venture on another layer, with the tip of your finger test the varnish, and if there be the least tackiness, wait a day or two until all be dry. And as a roughness is bound to show itself as stage after stage is passed, it is well to smooth down each course when dry with fine No. 0 glass-paper upon which is first spread a drop of pure Lucca oil, which, of course, must be lightly applied to the body of varnish, and the whole carefully wiped with clean linen or silk handkerchief afterwards.
Now, after the first two coats, you must use about a three-quarter inch fine hog-hair brush (not many hairs in, mind) and for the later coats one with camel hair. Sit on a low chair, have the light to your right hand, the varnish before you handy, not too high. The violin is held by neck, left hand of course; the stick at the broad end through the hole where comes later the end pin (see above) rests on your right leg as you sit. Get a fair dip of varnish in your brush, but NEVER flood it; and beginning carefully under the fingerboard, first one side, then the other, working the top sides of the instrument also alternately, until the soundholes be reached, when inside these cuts must be neatly coloured, after which you just tip your brush with the varnish, neatly continuing where you leave off, so that none can see a break in your progress. This advice applies until ribs and scroll be all done after the belly and the back. I have ever found the upper table the most exacting and difficult; but, once again, never flood your brush, and you will varnish sooner or later. But never hurry: and this advice applies to every thing you do in the construction of the violin. Patience of no ordinary character you must exercise; if you have it not it will come to you, but through experience alone, through failures, through catastrophes innumerable. But what then? These things that have mastered you stand mastered in turn in the excellent result of to-day, so let yesterday go to the wall.
Now that we can consider the operation of varnishing at an end, the instrument is hung on a wire, free to the warm dry air of a room or to a passage where a current of it is circulating. When hard (and there is no actual time to gauge this by) prepare to finish off and rub down the whole; and care must be observed that no scratch appears, for a surface looks bad, very bad, with anything of this sort to mar its beauty.
The first essential in this process is pure Lucca oil, which does not clagg; and the next, specially prepared pumice stone powder, which must be as fine as flour; and should there be any doubt about its being absolutely free from specks of grit, filter it through fine muslin or silk, and only use that which passes through, in water.
Then take some brown paper and make a pad, rubbing on oil and a sprinkling of the pumice stone powder, when you can go over portions of the back, very lightly feeling your way to see whether all works smoothly and no scratch in the operation. If this be so, continue on these lines, sparingly adding more powder, but freely using the oil. You can, to smooth off, use saturated rag (oiled) and after that, a dry pad of very fine muslin or silk.
The belly is tedious, more so than the back, and the ribs still more so. Contrivances to get into corners and curves of the latter, you will have to resort to, such as small pieces of paper, and pumice stone and oil, and oiled fine glass-paper, and finely rubbed pieces of curved wood, with which you can operate to smooth near edges of ribs, etc.
All can be done well, all must be done well; for, remember, there is to be no French rubbish (polish, I mean), on the top of this oil varnish, but your hand must finally bring up its lustre, as I can show you mine has so frequently brought to a rich glow that preparation made and used by me, on my own work only.