That which I have termed the golden period of Stradivari, commenced about 1700, at which time he reached his 56th year: a time of life when it is a rare occurrence to find genius asserting itself with any degree of power—a time, if not of waning, at least of resting, when the mind usually stays from giving forth originality bearing the freshness of earlier years; but Stradivari, with a few other notable instances in the field of art, forms an exception to this rule, and he proves to us that his talent was then in its full vigour, and ripe for new achievements. George Eliot's fancy well contrasts the painter Naldo—
|
"Knowing all tricks of style at thirty-one, And weary of them; while Antonio At sixty-nine wrought placidly his best." |
From about 1700 his instruments show to us much of that which follows later. The outline is changed, but the curves, blending one with another, are beautiful in the extreme. The corners are treated differently. The wood used for the backs and sides is most handsome, having a broad curl. The scrolls are of bold conception, and finely executed. The varnish also is very rich, and leaves nothing to be desired.
It is not possible to convey to the reader, by means of mere description, anything approaching an adequate notion of the surpassing gracefulness of the entire work of this epoch. The eye must be made the channel to the mind. If the work is present, then, with the aid which these remarks will afford, the reader may gain, by careful study, much valuable insight into the beauties and genius of this famous artist, together with much useful information.
But during this period of his maturity, even, we find that Stradivari did not absolutely confine himself to making instruments as near as possible alike; on the contrary, it is easy to point out certain variations, the meaning of which he doubtless well understood. We find him guided throughout this period by his usual ideas as regards grandeur of outline and degrees of thickness; but the rotundity of the model, the shape that he gave to the sound-hole, the method of setting the sound-hole in the instrument, although, as before remarked, all executed with a breadth of purpose which his earlier efforts fail to show, may be cited as points in which he varied. I have no hesitation in hazarding an explanation of the reasons that prompted him to these differences of construction. It is my firm conviction that these great makers had certain guiding principles as regards the nature and qualities of the wood they used, and that Stradivari, in particular, made the subject a special study. If this be granted, I do not think there is any great difficulty in understanding the meaning of the differences pointed out. If Stradivari constructed his instruments upon philosophical principles, the chief element of variation in the treatment of any particular instrument must have been the difference of quality in the material; it is evident that a method eminently successful when applied to wood of a certain texture and character, would ensure as eminent a failure if applied indiscriminately in all cases. To obtain wood sufficient for two bellies that should be alike in every particular is impossible, though cuttings should be made from the same piece; and we find that the more the material varies in its nature, so much the greater the variations—a fact which helps the view advanced considerably. In another place I have stated that scarcity of sycamore in the days of these old makers is impossible to understand, but scarcity of a particular kind of sycamore is easy to comprehend. He might have had a cartload of wood handsome in appearance; but handsome wood combined with acoustical properties he deemed needful, was another matter. With what extraordinary care he permitted himself to use the lovely wood he did possess! There are several instances where he has used, during one year, four or five distinct cuttings of wood, more particularly as regards the sycamore. These several cuttings include often the handsomest and the plainest. A year or so later we find him again making use of wood from the same cuttings, which proves satisfactorily that he did not work up one piece before commencing with another. He would seem to have kept back the handsomest wood for certain important commissions. I have seen three Stradivari Violins of 1714, with backs having but little figure, yet this was the year in which he made the "Dolphin," which is regarded by the chief connoisseurs in Europe as a chef-d'oeuvre of Stradivari. From the days when it was in the possession of the Marquis de la Rosa to the present time, its beauty has excited the admiration of the Fiddle world. The splendour of the wood is unsurpassed in any Violin, ancient or modern, and it was named the "Dolphin" from the richness and variety of the tints it gives to the varnish. The model is perfection; its solidity of construction and glorious varnish all tend to make it unique. Its beauty is of a kind that does not require the eye of the skilled connoisseur to recognise it; it causes those to exclaim whose knowledge is limited to being aware that it is a Fiddle. His making this superb work of art in the same year in which he made instruments having wood quite opposite in figure, bears out, I consider, what I have before stated, viz., that Stradivari jealously guarded the material he possessed having both handsome figure and valuable acoustical properties. Mr. Charles Reade says of these "Strads": "When a red Stradivari Violin is made of soft, velvety wood, and the varnish is just half worn off the back in a rough triangular form, that produces a certain beauty of light and shade which is, in my opinion, the ne plus ultra. These Violins are rare; I never had but two in my life."
|
GIUSEPPE GUARNERI DEL GESÙ. 1738. (B. SINSHEIMER, ESQ.) |
|
THE "DOLPHIN" STRAD. Date 1714. |
|
ANTONIO STRADIVARI. 1718. (W. S. McMILLAN, ESQ.) Plate XII. |
It is conceivable that a manufacture so successful as Violin-making proves itself to have been in Italy during the seventeenth and part of the eighteenth centuries, should give rise to scientific inquiry, in order to discover the reason of the excellence of the best Italian instruments, and, if possible, the principles or laws which guided the makers in the exercise of their genius. That investigations of this character should be attended with important results in connection with the science of acoustics, is to be expected. As to laws or principles of a scientific character, I doubt whether such were recognised or understood when the excellence of the manufacture was greatest, believing that Violin makers of the order of Stradivari must be like poets, "born artificers, not made." The chief merits of Stradivari and his contemporary makers were intuitive. Their rules, having their origin in experience, were applied as dictated by their marvellous sense of touch and cunning, with results infinitely superior to any obtained with the aid of the most approved mechanical contrivances. When to these considerations we add that devotedness of purpose, without which nothing really great in art has been accomplished, we have a catalogue of excellences sufficient to account for the greatness of their achievements.
Turning again to the manuscript of Arisi, we find that "On the 12th of May, 1701, Don Antonio Cavezudo, leader of the private orchestra of King Charles II. of Spain, wrote a highly complimentary letter to Stradivari from Madrid, assuring him that though he had received bow instruments from several makers, for different courts, yet he had never been able to obtain them of such a refined and beautiful tone as those made by him." Arisi adds that Don Antonio Cavezudo was also in the service of the Duke of Anjou.
M. Fétis, in his notice of Stradivari,26 remarks: "The life of Antonio Stradivari was as tranquil as his calling was peaceful. The year 1702, alone, must have caused him much disquiet, when, during the war concerning the succession, the city of Cremona was taken by Marshal Villeroy, retaken by Prince Eugene, and finally taken a third time by the French; but after that period Italy enjoyed a long tranquillity, in which the old age of the artist glided peacefully away."