THE ‘VASLIN’
Violoncello by Antonius Stradivarius.
Dated 1725.
Gasparo da Salo, as we have already said, was an adept in the choice of wood, and he was fortunate in lighting upon some particularly even-grained pine. In these days his work is looked upon as rough, or, to put it more gently, primitive. The recent researches of Il Cavalieri Livi—the keeper of the Brescian state archives—have, however, proved that this was far from the case in his lifetime. Until the results of the Cavalieri’s investigations were published in the Nuova Antalogia on the 16th August 1891, nothing definite concerning this maker’s life was known. Thanks to the Brescian income-tax returns and other authentic documentary evidence it is now proved that Da Salo’s real name was not Salo at all but Gasparo di Bertolotti, that he rejoiced in a grandfather named Santino di Bertolotti who was a lute-maker at Polpenazze, that his father was one Francesco Bertolotti, a painter familiarly called “Violino” by his friends, and that his son, Gasparo, the future violin-maker, was born at Salo, a small town on Lake Garda, not many miles distant from Brescia. Unfortunately the date of Da Salo’s birth still remains unknown, owing to the loss of the pages from the parish register where it should appear, but the income-tax returns for 1568 state him to be twenty-six years of age at that date, and those for 1588, forty-five, thus locating his birth approximately in the year 1542. It is presumed that he learnt his art from his grandfather first, and later from a Brescian viol-maker of the name of Gerolamo Virchi, who stood sponsor to Gasparo’s son, Francesco. The earliest efforts of the great Brescian master apparently did not find favour with his fellow-countrymen, and, this being so, he became discouraged and contemplated trying his fortunes in France. A certain Father Gabriel saw the gifted man’s dispirited efforts, and also observed his intentions. He was reluctant to see one of his flock go forth to a foreign country, and to prevent such a calamity came forward with a loan of £60. Curiously enough this small sum changed the bent of Da Salo’s life. He remained, and encouraged by the faith of the good priest set to work with such definite aim and earnestness, that as a result he soon established himself in a house with a shop in the Contrada del Palazzo vecchio. This event occurred in the year 1568. He paid £20 rent per annum for this establishment, valued his stock of musical instruments at about £60, and styled himself Magistro di Violini. In 1579 he exhibited the added title of Magistro di Cittaris, and in 1583 called himself Artefice d’instrumenti musica. Twenty years after his first establishment in the Contrada del Palazzo vecchio, he changed his residence to the Contrada Cocere, where he claimed to be the owner of violins finished and unfinished valuing quite £200, and where he had acquired the ostentatious title of Magister instrumentorum musicorum. The year 1599 found him purchasing another house in Brescia, situated in the Contrada di St Pietro di Martero, and between 1581 and 1607 he owned land adjoining Calvagese, near Salo. It was at Calvagese that Da Salo’s son, Francesco, found his bride, the Signora Fior. He also followed the captivating profession of his father, until the latter’s death on the 14th April 1609, when he apparently lost heart, for from that time he ceased to be a luthier. Probably he sold the excellent business to Da Salo’s gifted pupil, Gio. Paolo Maggini, who had worked as an apprentice in the Brescian master’s workshop for quite eight years, and was then a bachelor of thirty or thereabouts. In any case, whether he became possessed of the business or not, the esteem which had previously been bestowed upon his instructor fell to his share. On the whole he deserved all the support he gained for he not only equalled Da Salo as a maker but surpassed him in everything save the ugly stiff sound holes which, for some unaccountable reason, he retained.
In the history of the violoncello, it is a puzzling and curious circumstance, that no viola da gamba by Maggini is extant.[29] His violins, violas, violoncellos and double-basses have resisted the onslaught of over three hundred adventurous years, and, this being so, one cannot help wondering why his gambas have not also withstood time’s ravages. The obvious reply seems to be that, “He made none!” However, whether he did or did not, his attitude certainly had no effect on the position occupied by the violoncello at that time. The general feeling about the instrument was akin to the sentiments expressed by the Comte de Rabutin in his “Epistles”:
“Je ne vous aime pas, Hylas;
Je n’en saurois dire la cause,
Je sais seulement un chose;
C’est que je ne vous aime pas.”
Not being liked, and yet appearing among them, musicians were confronted with a difficulty which they solved by placing this “white elephant” in the obscure position of playing the fundamental bass in the music of the Church.
As regards the lack of Maggini violas da gamba, circumstantial evidence may be right after all. The man was a genius, and, true to his instincts, sought after new methods rather than personal gain. He threw aside the useless and picked out the good, and, this being so, it is not surprising that he should prefer to turn his attention to the budding violoncello, rather than the pristine viola da gamba.