In matters of magnitude, whether artistic or otherwise, competition is undoubtedly healthy, there being always a small body of patrons who are willing to check the tendency to deteriorate, common to all productions, by encouraging the worker with extra remuneration, in order that a high degree of excellence may be maintained; but in matters confined to a small circle, as in the case of Violin-making, the number of those willing to encourage artistic workmanship is so minute as to fail even to support one maker of excellence, and thus, when deprived suddenly of its legitimate protection, the art, with other similar handicrafts, must drift into decadence. If we look around the Violin world, it is everywhere much the same. In Italy there is no Stradivari in embryo, in France no coming Lupot, in Germany no Jacob Stainer, and in England no future Banks or Forster. Why so? The answer is twofold. Partly there is fault in the demand, arising from the marked preference of this age for cheapness at the expense of goodness; partly, too, there is a fault in the supply, a foolish desire on the part of the makers to give maturity to their instruments, wherein they always completely fail, yet they will not give up their conceit. Here, again, were we dealing with matters of greater magnitude, the evil influence would be lessened, the artistic impulses would still be felt, though in a less degree; whereas so contracted is the circle of the Violin world, that under any stress the support given to makers willing to bestow an artist's care on their work is totally inadequate.
The case of modern Violin-makers is unfortunate. Old Violins being immeasurably superior to modern productions, the demand must necessarily set steadily for the former, and the modern maker has only the few patrons of new work to support him. It cannot be expected that the players of to-day should patronise the modern Violin in order that the next generation should reap the benefit. Years since it was quite a different matter. The makers were well paid for their work, and new instruments were then made to supply wants similar to those which the horrid Mirecourt or Saxon copy fulfils at present. As with other things, so is it also with Violins; if they are to be produced with the stamp of artistic merit, they must be paid for accordingly; without patronage the worker necessarily becomes careless. Finding that his skill fails to attract attention, he gradually sinks down into the mere routine of the ordinary workman. When Italy shone brightest in art, the patronage and remuneration which the workers received was considerable. Had it been otherwise, the powers of its Raffaele, its Cellini, and last (though not least to the admirers of the Violin), its Stradivari, would have remained simply dormant. Art, like commerce, is regulated in a great measure by supply and demand. In Raffaele's day, sacred subjects were in demand; the Church was his great patron, and aided him in bringing forth the gift which nature had implanted within him. In modern times, landscape-painting became the favoured subject, particularly in England; the result of which preference has been to place us in the foremost rank in that branch of art. The stage furnishes another instance of the effect that patronage has in bringing forth latent talent. If the history of dramatic art be traced, it will be found that its chief works were written when the taste of an appreciative public could be securely counted upon. As it waned, so the writers of merit became rarer; or perhaps it would be more correct to say, the plays produced became less meritorious, the authors being constrained to pander to the prevailing tastes.
As further evidence of the effect of patronage on art, a case in point is found in the manufacture of Venetian glass. The Venetians, centuries ago, became famous for their works in glass, and the patronage they enjoyed was world-wide; but their country being thrown into an unsettled condition, capital drifted from it, until the blowing of glass, together with other industries, was comparatively extinguished. Within recent years the art of making glass has shown signs, even in Venice itself, of reviving with all its former vigour in the workshops of Salviati, the success of which is due in great measure to English capital.
With regard to English Violin manufacture, there would be no reason why Violins should not, at the present moment, be produced in England which should fully reach the standard of merit maintained in our forefathers' days, if only the patronage of the art occupied a larger area. The present dearth of English makers does not arise from any national want of talent for this particular handicraft; in fact, we have plenty of men quite as enthusiastic as our foreign friends for a vocation which, in England also, must be pronounced to be alike venerable in its antiquity and famed for the dexterity of its genius.
The earliest makers of Viols in England seem to have been Jay, Smith, Bolles, Ross, Addison, and Shaw, names thoroughly British. We may take this as good evidence that the making of Viols in England originated with the English, and was not commenced by settlers from the Continent. Doubtless the form of the English Viol and its brethren was taken from the Brescian makers, there being much affinity between these classes of instruments. In the few Violins extant by Christopher Wise the Italian character is very striking. In them we see a flat model, excellent outline, and varnish of good quality. The Viols of Jay have the same Italian character. Later on we have names of some reputation—Rayman, Urquhart, and Barak Norman. In the absence of any direct evidence as regards the nationality of these makers it is requisite to endeavour to trace the style belonging to their works. It will be observed that there was a great improvement in the style of work and varnish of instruments made in England, commencing with the time of Rayman, and it is probable that this step in advance was obtained from intercourse with Italy or the German Tyrol. Starting with Rayman, there is a German ring in the name which makes me think that he came from Germany, and, if so, brought with him the semi-Italian character of work common to the makers who lived so near Brescia. If the work and style of Rayman be carefully examined, it will be seen that there is much in common with the inferior Brescian makers. The outline is rugged, the sound-hole is of that Gothic form peculiar to Brescia; the head is distinct from that of the early English type. At the same period Urquhart made instruments of great merit, the varnish of which is superior to that of Rayman, but is evidently composed of similar ingredients. Its superiority may have arisen from a different mode of mixing only. The name of Urquhart has a North British sound, and it is probable that he was born in Scotland, and settled in London as an assistant to Rayman, who would impart to him the style of foreign work.
The semi-Italian character pervading the instruments made in England at this period seems to have culminated in the productions of Barak Norman, whose best works bear even a more marked Brescian character than those of Rayman. The model varies very much, sometimes being high, at other times very flat; in the latter case the results are instruments of the Maggini type. Barak Norman frequently double-purfled his instruments, and inserted a device in the purfling, evidently following Maggini in these particulars. With Barak Norman ends the list of English copyists of the Brescian makers.
We now arrive at the copyists of Jacob Stainer and the Amati, a class of makers who possessed great abilities, and knew how to use them. The first name to be mentioned is Benjamin Banks, of Salisbury, who may with propriety be termed the English Amati. He was the first English maker who recognised the superior form of Amati's model over that of Stainer, and devoted all his energies to successful imitation. Too much praise cannot be lavished on Banks for the example which he selected for himself and his fellow-makers.
Next follow the names of Forster, Duke, Hill, Wamsley, Betts, Gilkes, Hart, and Kennedy, together with those of Panormo, Fendt, and Lott, who, although not born in England, passed the greater part of their lives here, and therefore require to be classed with the English School. The mention of these makers will bring the reader to the present time.
Upon scanning this goodly list, there will be found ample evidence that we in England have had makers of sufficient merit to entitle us to rank as a distinct school—a school of no mean order. We may therefore assume that the Continental writers who from time to time have published lists of makers of the Violin, and have invariably ignored England, have erred through want of information regarding the capabilities of our makers, both ancient and modern.
The following list will be found to enumerate nearly the whole of the English makers, and indicate the distinctive character of their respective works.