“Are, then, all modern makers creators of great tone?” No, they are not, nor has this been the case in any period of violin making. Yet—and this may well be worthy of attention—there is scarcely a maker of to-day, even to the copyist, who has not his tonal counterpart among the builders of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. His violins are as good as those produced by his more ancient prototype. They may, indeed, be more worthy of the attention of players, as our modern is apt to follow a model superior to those adopted by many of the older copyists.
Having, so far as the magnitude of the task and my own limitations permit, made this effort to reinstate the modern violin in a position of which, but for circumstance, it would have never been deprived, let us consider some of the pitfalls besetting the pathway of the tone-seeker—especially if he be so daring as to venture his quest towards new pastures, leaving that pre-empted field wherein, some would have us believe, tone can only be found. In plainer terms, if he seeks, or finds, tone among new fiddles instead of old ones.
CHAPTER VIII
A DOUBLE-BARRELLED THEORY
A frequent contention against the new violin, especially when its high-tone quality is so overwhelmingly apparent as to confound even the unreasonably prejudiced, is the statement that this fine tone will disappear in time. This appears strange when we remember it comes from those who say tone is found only in the old violin! According to this theory age seems a most accommodating adjunct. It not only gives tone, but takes it away also—it all depends upon whether the maker is dead or not! But the seeker of tone need not be alarmed when such double-barrelled wisdom is solemnly imparted. The tone of the great new violins is absolutely permanent. It does not owe its origin to age, or to anything that time can alter any further than it can alter the tone of any other great violin. Its continued existence is subject to the same conditions as govern the existence, or tone-life, of the finest old Italian instruments. If time influences it at all it is only to make it better. Whatever effect age may have upon a fiddle constructed of green wood, upon the factory-made article, or upon those unsuitably varnished, where it is conceivable something unexpected may occur to the sound such instruments are capable of emitting, nothing of this sort happens to violins constructed by either old or new masters of tonal art.
This tone-disappearing theory is not only ridiculous, it is mean. Unable to deny tone as a patent and present fact in a new violin, suspicion must be created and the possessor frightened with the bogey of its ultimate and certain loss. The tone-seeker’s interest must be struck in the tenderest spot. Even if not immediately effective, the seed of suspicion is sown, with the result that (in effect) the tone-lover sits at the bedside of his (supposed) ailing fiddle applying home remedies and patent nostrums without avail. At last the doctor, usually a quack, is sent for and, without more ado, gives the tone its coup de grâce. But this need no longer be the case. Fortified with knowledge and fully aware of the purpose for which this entirely false theory is advanced, the new violin possessing fine tone may be treasured with confidence in the permanency of its brilliant voice.
CHAPTER IX
THE EXPERT DEALER
While there are numerous experts and dealers of great renown and unquestioned repute, there is no denying the existence of those who would do well to drop the “and” from this title and thus become what they really are, “Expert Dealers”—experts in acquiring old fiddles (usually of low grade), experts in advertising their praise, and experts in selling them.[I]
The first consideration of this type of dealer is to keep alive the interest in old fiddles—the type of old fiddle that is acquired for a few shillings and sold for as many pounds. New violins, even of the finest-tone quality, are nothing to him. They cannot be purchased cheaply, or sold at an extravagant price. The new violin has but one asset—Tone. Its value depends upon the quality of its tone and nothing else, while the old, even the very cheap old, is lifted above tone because it is a curio as well as a fiddle, although it may be downright flattery to say its tone is third rate.
This dealer has but one serious trouble, namely, to keep his patrons satisfied with the species of “tone” which, when the glamour of owning a “fine old violin” has worn off, begins to whine for attention. His ability to meet this issue really justifies his claim to the title of “expert.” He is full of advice regarding adjustment, alteration of bridge, post, bar, etc., or an exchange for another fiddle if these prove unavailing. Whatever he may advise it will not be to try a new violin. He does not realise the gulf that is fixed between himself and the purchaser of the instrument. His interest is centred in the sale of a fiddle, while those who patronise him are interested in the purchase of tone. This type of fiddle merchant sometimes admit, with cynical candour, that “people do not buy violins for their tone (sic) nowadays.” If so, the fault lies with the dealer rather than with the “people.”
But if violins are not bought for their tone, what are they purchased for? If the dealer and his patron were in agreement that a violin has no other mission than to pose, like a Chippendale chair, as a curiosity, the tone of the instrument may well be relegated to a secondary position. It can, like the chair, be used; from its time-stained interior a sound may be produced which, if it does nothing else, at least proclaims the thing to be a fiddle. And that is all it is bought for!