Among experts, dealers and collectors—but not among players—there has always existed a tendency to deal with the old violin more as a curio than as a musical instrument, and this tendency has brought it perilously near the status of old furniture, the value being centred in the object rather than in any tone merit which the object may possess. This view of the commoner old fiddle, so widely held by dealers of the present day, is due to the fact that the really fine toned old master violins, upon which the cult was founded, did possess some rare type of tone which, with much confidence upon the part of everybody concerned, could be taken for granted, and there was no need, even if an expert could be found capable enough, to pass any judgment upon its tone-value. In most cases the tone was there. It was absent only when visible evidence in the form of cracks, etc., indicated otherwise. It was sufficient to secure the object and tone of the right sort followed as a matter of course. Here, then, the expert acted not without reason in basing value upon what could be seen rather than upon what could be heard.
Therefore, when the violins of the masters were succeeded, for the purpose of trade, by those of lesser tonal worth, it was but natural that this method of valuation should be extended to these fiddles. It was the time-honoured custom, and remains to this day the only system of valuation in existence. It had always satisfied the collectors, for whom it was invented, and who collect for reasons other than tone because, in many instances, they could not play the violin at all. The great players accepted this toneless method of valuation with some show of reason. They were thoroughly competent judges of tone; could select their ideal from the works of the masters with unerring accuracy and, if they paid a high price for curio value, it was to secure what was of much greater importance to them, tone value. But how about the more numerous section of tone lovers: the aspiring young artists, the leaders of orchestras, the ambitious students, and the amateur soloists? To these tone is of importance, to say the least. Many a promising career is jeopardised through the lack of it, and progress in a difficult study retarded for the same reason. A poor toned violin will bind the soloist to a commonplace voice, and may even set up for the beginner a false standard as an ideal of tone. It is this great body of players who are obliged, under existing circumstances, to place their tonal wants at the mercy of a system not intended to cater for their needs, but to the needs of the curio-hunter. Let us now explain this method of valuation more fully in order that the violin player may see exactly where he stands in relation to a system under which he is, perforce, obliged to secure his tone.
CHAPTER II
A TONELESS METHOD OF VALUATION
It is the business of those who value old violins to determine the age, maker (if known), country of origin, “school,” genuineness and condition of various parts, and, from the result of these observations, to place a money value upon the instrument. All this is done without any reference to the tone; without placing a bow to the strings; without, in fact, there being any necessity for the expert to be able to play at all. An equally reliable opinion will be given if the old violin be without strings, finger-board, tailpiece, bridge, soundpost or bassbar, the top separated from the body, and the neck dislocated; that is to say, if the fiddle be utterly unplayable.[A] This is precisely the system of valuation under which the dealer in old violins acquires his stock, and when that stock is put into a saleable condition, it is the system of valuation under which it is sold. Whatever tone the old fiddle may or may not possess (and as to this the buyer may satisfy himself), the curio value remains intact. It is the predominant asset, and is unaffected save by considerations involving the object. Let anything connected with the object prove questionable and down goes this curio value at once. Here is an example: A violin, supposed to be by a famous old maker, was well known in Europe for years. Its value was a thousand pounds. It carried many of the ear-marks of its supposed maker, and contained his genuine label. In due time it came into the possession of a celebrated London connoisseur who had doubts. Removing the label, he found beneath the label of the famous maker’s son. The violin was then valued at five hundred pounds, the curio value of the son’s best work. But the tone remained the same! This example deals with the known great violins; those of tonal repute. Let us see how it affects the commoner old fiddle; those that come the way of most tone seekers. A fine-looking old violin is acquired at a supposed bargain price of twenty pounds. Its faded and tattered label reads:
Jacobus Stainer in Absam
prope Oenipontum. 1664.
After possessing this instrument with much pride for a time the owner takes it to an expert to ascertain its real value, and is told at the first glance that it is a modern imitation, made in Germany, and its value is thirty shillings. Here again the tone remains unaltered, but the instrument is not old. As to these imitations, most deceive only the inexperienced. Others, however, are more ambitious, being carefully doctored by expert “fakers,” and the old masters imitated—in everything save tone—with diabolical ingenuity. We are constantly reading how paintings and other works of art, supposed to be the product of some ancient and gifted hand, are finally discovered to be spurious; but not before they have succeeded in imposing upon the experts of national museums! These things are judged solely by their appearance, just as the violin is judged, and so long as this system continues, just so long must every one relying upon it be prepared for deception in two directions; the imitation old master on the one hand, and the genuine old fiddle of poor tone on the other. Would it not be a move in the right direction to rely upon tone alone; upon something which, at least, is capable of speaking for itself?
It must not be supposed from the foregoing that the great expert and connoisseur knows nothing of tone. He often knows very much about it—more, perhaps, than many who actually make violins. This knowledge he has gained through a unique experience, covering a wide range of instruments by many old masters, and because he is often a player of the violin himself. But all experts are not great, nor are all of them players of the violin. There is, indeed, under such a system, no need for them to possess a knowledge of tone, or any ability to produce it from the instrument. If, therefore, the old violin is not judged and valued from the standpoint of its tone it is not the fault of the expert, but the fault of the system under which he exercises his calling. This system offers protection only to the collector and, in the interest of all players (who receive from it no tone protection whatever), should be abolished, or at least modified to include as binding a guarantee for tone value as, without hesitation, is given for curio value.
If the lover and seeker of tone has some experience of the matter; if he is so fortunate as to number among his friends a candid and impartial dealer; he is aware that the bulk of old fiddles possess but small tone value; that it is age, repute, or appearance that sells them. Many players have purchased old violins which are genuine enough, but practically worthless in tone; such tonal glories as they possibly once possessed having long since departed. But the maker’s name remains; the instrument is still the veritable production of an old maker. In the case of paintings the ravages of time detract from a single asset, and matter little. Your painting may be chequered with cracks and otherwise show that time has passed across it no gentle hand. Its crumbling canvas may be bolstered up from the back without any detriment to its single value as a work of art, and it may slumber in the mansion or the museum secure from every hurt save the desiccating influence of the passing years. According to the experts the violin should be similarly situated and have but a single asset: that of an artistic object. If it were not called upon to exercise the function of a musical instrument all would be well. It would, like the painting, remain a rare work and nothing more. As such it would repose in its cabinet without ever a bow being drawn across its strings. As a curiosity that would be its legitimate place. Should any player drag it forth to fulfil another purpose, his must be the risk. Should he find this purpose accomplished, well and good. If not, he must be satisfied in the possession of a curiosity, and accept, with what patience he can command, the lack of tone.
For a century or more the toneless pariahs among “genuine old” fiddles have roamed from place to place, and from country to country. Like the Wandering Jew, they are never at rest. Countless amateurs have owned them, treasured them, found them out, and sent them forth again. Some bear the scars of fruitless operations, for it is the fashion among the inexperienced to attribute the lack of tone in all violins to faults of adjustment. In one way or another the attempt is made to accomplish what the maker of the fiddle failed to do. As to this, there is a difference between adjusting a fine-toned violin, and trying by the same means, or by any means whatsoever, to create tone in a fiddle that never possessed any. The many aids and improvers of tone may, indeed, alter for the better that which could not well be worse, but to say that any of them will “create the tone of a fine Italian” is a statement very far from fact.
I have now defined the position of the old violin as a musical instrument, and as a curiosity. The new violin has no status which the expert can recognise, because it is worth nothing as a curio. Unlike the ancient fiddle, it has but one asset, tone, and, according to possession of this attribute, is its value high or low. Being outside the calculation of the expert valuer, tone has neither standard nor status, nor any recognisable money value. The system under which the old violin is judged, therefore, cannot and does not apply to the new. In fact, there is no existing method of valuing a new violin! As I deal with the modern fiddle in another place, let us proceed with the consideration of the old and acquaint the reader with the Standard and Types of that grand tone against which all violins, whether new or old, should be measured.