While the literature of the violin deals with every phase connected with the subject—its history, manufacture, repair, music, old masters, great players, celebrated instruments and many instructions on how to play the fiddle, the most celebrated and authoritative works are those which contain a historical reference to all the ancient makers, so far as known, and their work. Their chief value lies in the fact that they catalogue the names of over six hundred old violin makers and give much information regarding their fiddles. So far as the known old makers are concerned they are not only reliable, but invaluable guides to all dealers in and lovers of the old instruments. As guides to tone, however, they are hopelessly out of date. The best of these books were originally published about thirty years ago, and while their value as a list of old makers is in no way depreciated, the passing of time has, in some other respects, rendered little honour. From them one gains the impression that the fiddle, and especially its tone, belongs to an age that is past; that its best days are gone, never to return. While tone is rarely mentioned, we are led towards the supposition that the art of its creation is as dead as the dodo; that it stopped short (like grandfather’s clock) a very long time ago. The idea is conveyed that, since that time, no maker has succeeded in producing a really worthy fiddle. In fact, all other makers are definitely stated to be imitators, which shows their authors were entirely ignorant regarding tone creation, however versed they were in the lore of fiddle manufacture. Yet there is no intentional slight cast upon the modern, nor is he singled out for obloquy. He is considered merely as a living nonentity. The idea seems to prevail that, to become famous, the fiddle maker must die, and the longer he is dead the more worthy he becomes of inclusion among the immortals. His sin is not that he cannot make a good violin, or even that he cannot create a tone equal to the antiques, but that he cannot, by any means whatever, make an old violin. Some of these “imitators” have, however, revenged themselves by almost accomplishing the feat;[J] at least they have succeeded so well as completely to deceive some of the age worshippers. They have baked or stained their fiddles to the colour of ancient wood, grafted the head, counterfeited wear; created and repaired cracks, and even reproduced the label in facsimile—and sold the result at a fine “old” figure! Without any doubt these fiddles are treasured by more than one player to-day through absorbing from these books one conclusion over-mastering every other—the age value of a violin.
These histories voice sentiments which have been dear to the collectors ever since the fiddle “took its place among curiosities.” And these sentiments are honestly held and expressed in good faith. The authors were men of renown in the fiddle world. There is no mistaking their enthusiasm for the old instrument and everything connected with it. They were connoisseurs, experts, dealers, and great judges of tone; also, in some instances, fine players of the instrument, and they covered the field of the old fiddle so completely that most books of a like kind which have appeared during the past twenty-five years are founded upon their efforts. In absorbing the facts, however, these later works have also absorbed the fancies of their mentors, and thus we have the old fallacies multiplied and spread further afield until the influence of the old instruments has come to be truly amazing. Consider the fabulous sums now cheerfully paid for them; the advertisement they receive from painters, poets, and novelists; their possession by the greatest players; the interest attached to certain rare examples, and note the effect of all this upon the more humble followers of the fiddle cult, who have come at last to see every old instrument—even the imitation—glowing with a brilliance reflected by the beacon-lights of Cremona! These books hold an important place in violin literature, but not as guides to tone.
Books on violin making are of two kinds: those that instruct and those that amuse. Fortunately the last are few, but still plentiful enough to cause trouble—not because the writers were unskilled in their art, but because the reader is told very much less than enough of some matters and too much of others. The excellent work of Mr. Ed. Heron Allen,[K] however, does not suffer in either of these respects.
Instructions and books on how to play the violin are almost numberless, and the technic of the art is covered at every point. With hardly an exception they are of real service, although woefully neglecting the matter of tone—save from the necessities of technic. I have endeavoured to repair this omission in Chapter XVIII.
There are a few monthly journals, or magazines, devoted to the interests of those who play the violin and kindred instruments. Their subscription price is exceedingly moderate, and they deal with subjects most of which the earnest student can hardly afford to miss. Amongst all the literature of the fiddle these journals are of most value and interest to the player. Their columns are, naturally, open to correspondents and some valuable letters appear, while others are interesting if only to indicate the peculiar working of the speculative mind when applied to the violin and matters connected therewith. The work of modern builders is occasionally reviewed, this being faithfully and fairly done, although not, perhaps, entirely dissociated from considerations binding the reviewers to other and older interests.
It is surprising that, in this progressive age, with many thousands of violin makers scattered throughout the world, there has not appeared a periodical which, while catering to the needs of the modern player, would also weigh the work of the modern builder in a balance more evenly held between himself and his ancient competitor. It is a simple fact that the present-day builder receives but scant encouragement from practically all fiddle literature, while any nondescript is lavishly (and freely) advertised if he should happen to be ancient—which, more often than not, is the extent of his virtues. The modern is becoming impatient of the perpetual insinuation that he is inferior, as a creator of tone, to the worst old fiddle-maker that ever died, and as he forms no inconsiderable section of the fiddle community, with an influence and patronage not to be despised, his interest would naturally trend in the direction where he found that justice which is his due.
One other type of fiddle literature is of interest to the lover of violins. The “Lives” dealing with famous makers singly. In practically all cases these deal with the creators of a standard of tone. These should find a place in every fiddle fancier’s library, not because everything they contain may be taken as absolute truth, but for the light cast upon the maker’s work and times.
CHAPTER XII
WANTED—A TONE GUARANTEE
It is the business of the dealer in old violins to seek out, purchase, restore, advertise, and sell old violins; to guarantee the instrument to be made by, or attributed to, a certain maker (as the case may be), and to be made in or about, a certain year—this last to settle the fact that it is old. It is also his business to have this instrument equipped with the necessary tackle to make it playable, otherwise it would not be saleable. If he does not know who made the fiddle it is simply guaranteed as “genuine old.” No dealer of repute will sell an imitation-old fiddle for other than what it really is.
Tone, however, is not a part of the old violin the dealer will guarantee to be other than what it happens to be.[L] If the instrument is by a well-known maker he may, indeed, say the tone is characteristic of that maker, or better (or worse) than the violins of another maker, but he will not guarantee a certain refinement or quality of tone to follow upon a certain amount of age in an old violin; or the tone of an old instrument made, say, in the year 1721, to be equal to that of any violin made in that year, or any other year.