That some signs of advancing age should not be apparent in Stradivari's work during the period of 1715 to 1725 would scarcely be expected. It is just at this time, however, that he gives the strongest evidence of being the extraordinary man that he was. In 1715 and thereabouts, a time of all others, some critics might put it, when his most magnificent gems of art were sent out into the world, he was a veteran seventy-one years, a time of life that few people would look forward to as being appropriate for executing unrivalled masterpieces, but rather as having for some time retired for final rest after a full complement of working days; here, however, was a peerless artist actually in his prime! and as busy, possibly so, as at any early times.
At 1720 to 1725 a close student of his work of hand may discern some signs of what was to follow, it might be said naturally. In the first place the purfling gradually assumes a heavier aspect, it is a trifle bolder or thicker in substance, although sent round the borders of the instrument with apparently the same masterly handling and iron nervousness of the preceding years. The edging is also a degree stouter. Occasionally the corners are made to a more obtuse angle, adding to the whole design a more stolid look, as if mere elegance was about to be thrown aside and more simplicity and grandeur were being sought for. This was not continued, the master seemed afraid of going too far towards heaviness, he therefore cautiously withdrew to his own old lines. Sometimes—possibly taking up and constructing upon some of his old and early moulds—the corners are brought out more prominently, but with more substance than in his early days; the result is delightful for the connoisseur's eye. Accompanying these minute modifications there will be noticed an increase slight and gradual in the expression of heaviness in the sound holes. If possible there is more freedom from mere symmetrical proportion, they are placed less accurately level, one being a trifle higher than the other, this by the bye was common with him at all times, although usually with a subtlety that left them unnoticed by an ordinary observer. This slight irregularity has been sometimes misinterpreted as one of the little secrets of the master whereby he obtained his excellent sonority; "discovered" was the exclamation, and a new rule laid down on Stradivari's lines—never place your sound holes on the same level, always one a trifle higher and you will get what the master was so famous for. The result, so far, has been a disappointment which laid bare some evidence that these over zealous enthusiasts were not sufficiently acquainted with the canons of Italian art. There was another peculiarity creeping on with regard to these sound holes—that of an enlargement of the curve opposing the lower wing, at first it gave a more staid aspect to the part, there was less sprightliness and youth about it, nevertheless it was fine at times, even magnificent, there being still the same determination of purpose, that of combining maturity of elegance with strength. Afterwards, the change—and if all the works of these later years could be seen, saved from the destructive ravages of time and wear, it would be pronounced scarcely perceptible in its progressive degrees—came creeping on, old age gradually insinuating itself in the mechanical part of the design.
From 1725 to 1737 was a time forming a proportion of Stradivari's career during which, if he arouses less enthusiasm among his admirers for the "work of hand," he outbalances it by far in exciting our astonishment at the man himself. In the year 1725, he was then eighty-one years of age, and his work, regarded from the standpoint of "periods" as given, or arbitrarily laid down by critics of the first half of the present century, was what is now known as just past the "golden" or "grand" period; that is, some signs of decadence in the finish of the instruments which he sent forth were for the first time becoming apparent. It is generally believed that Stradivari was still industriously engaged in constructing instruments of different kinds and sizes as before, and that his time was occupied to the full in producing works in rapid succession, as in an uninterrupted stream. That the first part of this was probably quite true we can readily agree to, also that the out-put was continuous. Both, however, will need a little qualification when the surrounding circumstances are carefully weighed. Allowing the master possession of unusual mental and physical powers, with zeal unabated at the period included within the dates 1725 and 1735, it would be too much for us to believe him capable of working with the certainty and celerity of former years; with all his extraordinary abilities he would now be a less prolific worker.
This is in agreement with the number of works that have come down to us, and as the time advanced it became less and less until a veritable specimen of his latest period is extremely rare.
It has before been referred to that the sons of Stradivari worked with him for many years. They must have, from continual practice, been able to fit their own workmanship on to the designs of their father to a nicety that could not be surpassed. Their own individual designs are very seldom seen, consequent, no doubt, on so much of their time being devoted to helping their father, and until his death they must have rarely made on their own account.
There were other assistants who lent a helping hand in different branches of the work, among whom we will not omit mention of Carlo Bergonzi, a great master himself, but little inferior to Stradivari, and a good deal better than either of the sons.
The circumstances under which Carlo Bergonzi worked in the Stradivari establishment are not known; it is by no means certain that he received his early tuition in the place, but that he became an influence of considerable weight admits of no question. Whether he worked on the premises, or—his own being at one time or other next door—was an outside help no data is to hand that we can rely on, certain it is that his talent must have been fully recognised by the younger Stradivaris as their work declares.
Many years back there was some discussion about concerning the extent to which Carlo Bergonzi helped, or what part he undertook, if it were admitted that some of the Stradivari violins of the latest period were not entirely the work of the master. There was much said for and against the possibility or probability of there being any of Carlo Bergonzi's handiwork to be seen on any of the late Strads. No one seems to have questioned the presence of the influence of Bergonzi's style in the work of Franciscus Stradivari, the eldest of the sons, who, after labouring for many years on his father's moulds and patterns, might have reasonably been tempted to take a "leaf from the book" of such a master in designing as his friend and fellow-assistant, Carlo Bergonzi.
To take any sort of hint from that wonderful, although fitful genius, Giuseppe Guarneri, working within earshot, was not to be entertained for a moment, as the style of workmanship, the calibre and quality of tone belonging to his manner, was quite opposed to Stradivarian teaching, and besides which there are no records or traditions indicating even usual social intercourse. We are therefore thrown upon our own resources in estimating any connection of Carlo Bergonzi with the late work of Antonio Stradivari. The instruments themselves will be the only guide and, without doubt, in the face of other evidence, had it been present, the best. Stradivari's work during the last ten or more years of his life was showing exactly what we should expect of the man when working at a patriarchal age. The stamp of the veteran handicraftsman may be traced not unfrequently on the works of other eminent makers of Cremona, including Andreas, Hieronymus, Nicolas, and his son Hieronymus and others down to the latest period of Cremonese art, when Laurentius Storioni was proving that if in its last struggles it was not quite dead.
The distinguishing characteristics of old age work may be briefly summed up in a few words—heaviness in design and uncertainty of execution. Good, even brilliant, conceptions may be started on new work, but the execution of them shows weakness, or even inability to carry them out well. We will apply this as a kind of test when overlooking the specimens handed down to us as being the production of the great Cremonese master at the age of between eighty and ninety-three years of age. If doing this simply from the connoisseur's point of view, without admitting any such influences as present or past monetary value, former ownership, in short, thrusting aside all considerations of pedigree, we shall soon have to divide them into two sections, one of which will be acknowledged by all connoisseurs to be really representative of the true Stradivarian manner adhered to strictly through a long working career, but with the only fault of not quite so well being said of it. Thus the sound holes, as before referred to in the tracings, were becoming heavier at the lower part and with a tendency in other details towards ruggedness. The varnish has a thicker and less dainty aspect, although of excellent quality still, but there is an impression of heaviness. In the carving of the scroll the same character prevails, the edges of the turns are stouter and at the back the grooves down to the shell are less refined in their execution. All these little specialities of touch, but no modifications, are the natural manifestation of the peculiar physical condition of the master at a very advanced age.