Violin Making / 'The Strad' Library, No. IX.

by Walter H. Mayson

To write an exhaustive essay on this most absorbing subject before us, to go into any manner of detail at all in the present work, is not my intention. It is far too wide, too subtle, and, in my opinion, is an art of itself, requiring not only great space in which to voice its merits, its component parts, and the thousand and one compounds in which those parts assimilate, but the calm of the study rather than the bustle of the workshop, given out deliberately by him whose conclusions are based on the sound issues arising from momentous research, careful analysis of former old examples, and an utter abhorrence of prejudice, for or against this or that compound or colour—prejudice, mind, actuating choice.

But in continuation, though somewhat in parenthesis, a choice based on determined observation of a matter is quite another thing; and I tell you at once my experience as between spirit and oil varnish condemns the former, whilst it very strongly advocates the latter; and when one considers that it is in the nature of oil to assimilate with wood, and to throw up its beauties, and whilst a mellowness clings to the very name, the reverse on all points being the case with spirit, the surprise is that varnish other than of oil should be tolerated.

Besides, see the difference in wear. Use a violin coated with spirit, and if the friction from its employment be severe, you have cracks, pieces chipping here and there, the instrument getting barer and barer daily, so that in time little of it, the varnish, is left. But it is not so with oil; the wear is wear, not in chips, but in gradual diminishing of its substance, always a something being left; added to which a beauty springs from such, in that softer gradations of colour radiate and form a greater depth, from the fact of such colour or colours being more readily absorbed.

Again, in their relations to Tone, I place the oil varnishes first; and I think the point is pretty generally conceded, for what is on the face power, which some attribute to the brittle, assertive nature of the gums hardened by alcohol, is not in reality such, but often aggressive noise, losing itself the more you retreat from it, leaving real tone little to say for itself.

But coat the violin with oil; you certainly cannot complain of loud, rasping responses to the call of the bow, whilst you can make some assertion as to quality. And, remember, as the soft nature of the oil assumes a harder tendency day by day, so will increase the sonority of the tones, whilst retaining the beauty of character with which they began. Therefore, I shall draw your attention to the use of oil varnish, utterly discarding that of spirit.

But to what oil varnish is not my present purpose; why should I seek to close the door on research and on experiment? It is for you, students, to take home, each one of you, the lesson of the mighty failure of thousands gone before you, in inability to bring to a finish that upon which they have spent so many anxious hours, and do something different and better. It is my intention to teach you, step by step, how to lay on what you prepare for the brush: but not to say "get this or that oil," or "this or that colour," except in the abstract—red, orange, amber, yellow, etc., etc., being names only.

I say this at once so that there may be no mistake—so that none can say I use this or that: my own varnish and colouring are my own solely, and I reserve the secret for the benefit of my family, should it prove of value after my career be ended.

Fashion a piece of wood so that it fits easily into the hole at the end of the violin in which, later, the end pin is inserted. It must have a rough sort of handle, because by it you will hold the instrument when you have occasion otherwise than by the neck; for you must on no account touch the wood before you varnish, nor afterwards, with your hands, nor must you allow others to do so, when, in your pardonable pride of heart, you show your creation to your friends.

With a clean sponge, wrung out of tepid water, and a camel-hair brush for parts where the sponge will not be of service, go all over your violin, but do not wet it heavily—far from it; and when quite dry, on the slightly roughened surface thus left, place a yellow or amber coating of turpentine, thoroughly mixing with it a little of the oil varnish selected by you along with your colouring matter as you arrange, yellow or amber. To do this well, and for future use, you must have half to one inch flat camel-hair and fine hog-hair brushes. A round hog-hair brush, medium size, is good for this initial coating (some call it sizing; but I think this is misleading—"size" being generally understood to bear reference to glue, and we want none of that under varnish.)

This should be dry in about two or three days, when you may lay on a second course, less turpentine and rather more varnish; also less yellow and a very little red. This will take somewhat longer to dry, and please observe that the more varnish (if it be oil and gum, pure and simple) so much longer it will be in drying; and, as you advance to the final stage, you will gradually discard the turpentine altogether, as you will the yellow, colouring at last with red only.