Читать книгу The Violin - George Hart - Страница 10

The construction of the present form of the Violin has occupied the attention of many scientific men. It cannot be denied that the subject possesses a charm sufficiently powerful to induce research, as endeavour is made to discover the causes for the vast superiority of the Violin of the seventeenth century over the many other forms of bow instruments which it has survived. The characteristic differences of the Violin have been obtained at the cost of many experiments in changing the outline and placing the sound-holes in various incongruous positions. These, and the many similar freaks of inventors in their search after perfection, have signally failed, a result to be expected when it is considered that the changes mentioned were unmeaning, and had nothing but novelty to recommend them. But what is far more extraordinary is the failure of the copyist, who, vainly supposing that he has truthfully followed the dimensions and general features of the Old Masters, at last discovers that he is quite unable to construct an instrument in any way deserving of comparison with the works of the period referred to. The Violin has thus hitherto baffled all attempts to force it into the "march of progress" which most things are destined to follow. It seems to scorn complication in its structure, and successfully holds its own in its simplicity. There is in the Violin, as perfected by the great Cremonese masters, a simplicity combined with elegance of design, which readily courts the attention of thoughtful minds, and gives to it an air of mystery that cannot be explained to those outside the Fiddle world. Few objects possess so charming a display of curved lines as the members of the Violin family. Here we have Hogarth's famous line of beauty worked to perfection in the upper bouts,¹ in the lower bouts, in the outer line of the scroll, in the sound-hole. Everywhere the perfection of the graceful curve is to be seen. It has been asserted by Hogarth's enemies that he borrowed the famous line from an Italian writer named Lomazzo, who introduced it in a treatise on the Fine Arts. We will be more charitable, and say that he obtained it from the contemplation of the beauties of a Cremonese Violin.

1 A technical term for the sides.

In looking at a Violin we are struck with admiration at a sight of consummate order and grace; but it is the grace of nature rather than of mechanical art. The flow of curved lines which the eye detects upon its varied surface, one leading to another, and all duly proportioned to the whole figure, may remind us of the winding of a gentle stream, or the twine of tendrils in the trellised vine.

Often is the question asked, What can there be in a simple Violin to attract so much notice? What is it that causes men to treat this instrument as no other, to view it as an art picture, to dilate upon its form, colour, and date? To the uninitiated such devotion appears to be a species of monomania, and attributable to a desire of singularity. It needs but little to show the inaccuracy of such hypotheses. In the first place, the true study of the Violin is a taste which needs as much cultivation as a taste for poetry or any other art, a due appreciation of which is impossible without such cultivation. Secondly, it needs, equally with these arts, in order to produce proficiency, that spark commonly known as genius, without which, cultivation, strictly speaking, is impossible, there being nothing to cultivate. We find that the most ardent admiration for the Violin regarded as a work of art, has ever been found to emanate from those who possessed tastes for kindred arts. Painters, musicians, and men of refined minds have generally been foremost among the admirers of the Violin. Much interest attaches to it from the fact of its being the sole instrument incapable of improvement, whether in form or in any other material feature. The only difference between the Violin of the sixteenth century and that of the nineteenth lies in the arrangement of the sound-bar (which is now longer, in order to bear the increased pressure caused by the diapason being higher than in former times), and the comparatively longer neck, so ordered to obtain increased length of string. These variations can scarcely be regarded as inventions, but simply as arrangements. The object of them was the need of adapting the instrument to modern requirements, so that it might be used in concert with others that have been improved, and allow the diapason to be raised. Lastly, it must be said that, above all, the Violin awakens the interest of its admirers by the tones which it can be made to utter in the hands of a skilful performer. It is, without doubt, marvellous that such sounds should be derivable from so small and simple-looking an instrument. Its expressiveness, power, and the extraordinary combinations which its stringing admits of, truly constitute it the king of musical instruments. These somewhat desultory remarks may suffice to trace the origin of the value set upon the Violin both as a work of art and as a musical instrument.

We will now proceed to consider the acoustical properties of the Violin. These are, in every particular, surprisingly great, and are the results of many tests, the chief of which has been the adoption of several varieties of wood in its construction. In Brescia, which was in all probability the cradle of Violin manufacture, the selection of the material of the sides and back from the pear, lemon, and ash trees was very general, and there is every reason to believe that Brescia was the first place where such woods were used. It is possible that the makers who chose them for the sides and backs of their instruments considered it desirable to have material more akin to that adopted for the bellies, which was the finest description of pine, and that the result was found to be a tone of great mellowness. If they used these woods with this intention, their calculations were undoubtedly correct. They appear to have worked these woods with but few exceptions for their Tenors, Violoncellos, and Double Basses, while they adopted the harder woods for their Violins, all which facts tend to show that these rare old makers did not consider soft wood eligible for the back and sides of the leading instrument; and later experiment has shown them to have arrived at a correct conclusion on this point. The experiments necessary to obtain these results have been effected by cutting woods of several kinds and qualities into various sizes, so as to give the sounds of the diatonic scale. By comparing the intensity and quality of tone produced by each sample of wood, plane-tree² and sycamore have been found to surpass the rest. The Cremonese makers seem to have adhered chiefly to the use of maple, varying the manner of cutting it. First, they made the back in one piece, technically known as a "whole back"; secondly, the back in two parts; thirdly, the cutting known as the "slab back." There being considerable doubt as to the mode of dividing the timber, the woodcuts given will assist the reader to understand it. Fig. 1 represents the cutting for the back in two pieces—the piece which is separated from the log is divided. Fig. 2 shows the method adopted to obtain the slab form.

FIG. 1.	FIG. 2.

2 The Germans call the plane-tree morgenländischer ahorn—i.e., "oriental maple." From the German word ahorn is probably derived the term "air wood," often corrupted into "hair-wood." Thomas Mace says, respecting the lute, "the air-wood is absolutely the best, and next to that our English maple."—Engel ("Researches into the Early History of the Violin Family").

JACOBUS STAINER. Date 1669.

GIUSEPPE GUARNERI DEL GESÙ. (THE "VIEUXTEMPS.")

NICCOLÒ AMATI. Grand Pattern. Date 1641. (J. S. COOKE, ESQ.) Plate II.

This mode of cutting is constantly met with in the works of the Brescian makers, and likewise in those of the early Cremonese. Andrea Amati invariably adopted this form. Stradivari rarely cut his wood slab-form. Joseph Guarneri made a few Violins of his best epoch with this cutting, the varnish on which is of an exquisite orange colour, so transparent that the curls of the wood beneath resemble richly illuminated clouds.

There can be no doubt whatever that the Cremonese and Brescian makers were exceedingly choice in the selection of their material, and their discrimination in this particular does not appear to have risen so much from a regard to the beauty as to the acoustic properties of the wood, to which they very properly gave the first place in their consideration. We have evidence of much weight upon this interesting question in the frequent piecings found on the works of Cremona makers, pointing to a seeming preference on their part to retain a piece of wood of known acoustic properties rather than to work in a larger or better preserved portion at the probable expense of tone. The time and care required for such a delicate operation must have been sufficient to have enabled the maker, had he been so minded, to have made a complete instrument. There is also ample proof that Joseph Guarneri possessed wood to the exceptional qualities of which he was fully alive, and the same may be said of Stradivari, Ruggeri, and others. It is scarcely reasonable to suppose that in the seventeenth century there was a dearth in Italy of timber suitable for the manufacture of Violins, and that in consequence these eminent makers were compelled to patch and join their material to suit their purpose. They were men who were in the enjoyment of a patronage certainly sufficient to enable them to follow their calling without privation of any kind. Scarcity of pine and sycamore, good or bad, could not have been the cause, since we find Italian cabinet-work of great beauty that was manufactured at this same period. The plane-tree and pine used by the Amati, Stradivari, and the chief masters in Italy, was usually of foreign growth, and was taken from the Tyrol and Istria. Its value was, therefore, in advance of Italian wood, but hardly so much as to place it beyond the reach of the Cremonese masters. It is, further, improbable that these masters of the art should have expended such marvellous care and toil over their work, pieced as it frequently was like mosaic, when for a trifling sum they could have avoided such a task to their ingenuity by purchasing fresh wood. We are therefore forced to admit that there must have been some cause of great weight which induced them to apply so much time and labour, and that the problem can only be accounted for by the solution before proposed, viz., that external appearance was of less importance than the possession of acoustic properties thoroughly adapted to the old makers' purpose, and that the scarcity of suitable wood was such as to make them hoard and make use of every particle. The selection of material was hence considered to be of prime importance by these makers; and by careful study they brought it to a state of great perfection. The knowledge they gained of this vital branch of their art is enveloped in a similar obscurity to that which conceals their famous varnish, and in these branches of Violin manufacture rests the secret of the Italian success, and until it is rediscovered the Cremonese will remain unequalled in the manufacture of Violins.

We may now pass to the consideration of the various constituent parts of a Violin. It will be found, if a Violin be taken to pieces, that it is constructed of no less than fifty-eight separate parts, an astonishing number of factors for so small and simple-looking an instrument. The back is made of maple or sycamore, in one or two parts; the belly of the finest quality of Swiss pine, and from a piece usually divided; the sides, like the back, of maple, in six pieces, bent to the required form by means of a heated iron; the linings, which are used to secure the back and belly to the sides, are twelve in number, sometimes made of lime-tree, but also of pine. The bass or sound-bar is of pine, placed under the left foot of the bridge in a slightly oblique position, in order to facilitate the vibrating by giving about the same position as the line of the strings. The divergence is usually one-twelfth of an inch, throughout its entire length of ten inches. It is curious to discover that this system of placing the bar was adopted by Brensius of Bologna, a Viol-maker of the fifteenth century, and by Gasparo da Salò. The later Violin-makers, however, for the most part, do not appear to have followed the example, they having placed it in a straight line, thus leaving the system to be re-discovered. The bar of the Violin not only serves the purpose of strengthening the instrument in that part where the pressure of the bridge is greatest, but forms a portion of the structure at once curious and deeply interesting; it may indeed be called the nervous system of the Violin, so exquisitely sensitive is it to external touch. The slightest alteration in its position will effect such changes in the tone as often to make a good Violin worthless. Those troublesome notes technically known as "wolf notes" by its delicate adjustment are sometimes removed, or passed to intervals where the disagreeable sound is felt with less intensity. Numerous attempts have been made to reduce these features to a philosophy, but the realisation of the coveted discovery appears as distant as ever. The most minute variation in the construction of the instrument necessitates a different treatment of this active agent as regards its conjunction with the bridge; and when it is considered that scarcely two Violins can be found of exactly identical structure, it must be admitted that the difficulties in the way of laying down any set of hard and fast rules for their regulation seem to be insuperable.

The next important feature of the internal organism is the sound-post, which serves many purposes. It is the medium by which the vibratory powers of the instrument are set in motion; it gives support to the right side of the belly, it transmits vibrations, and regulates both the power and quality of tone. The terms used for this vital factor of a Violin on the Continent at once prove its importance. The Italians and French call it the "Soul," and the Germans the "Voice." If we accept the bass-bar as the nervous system of a Violin, the sound-post may be said to perform the functions of the heart with unerring regularity. The pulsations of sound are regulated by this admirable contrivance. If mellowness of quality be sought, a slight alteration of its position or form will produce a favourable change of singular extent; if intensity of tone be requisite, the sound-post is again the regulator. It must, of course, be understood that its power of changing the quality of the tone is limited in proportion to the constitutional powers of the instrument in each case. It is not pretended that a badly constructed instrument can be made a good one by means of this subtle regulator, any more than a naturally weak person can be made robust by diet and hygiene.

The position of the sound-post is usually one-eighth to three-eighths of an inch behind the right foot of the bridge, the distance being variable according to the model of the instrument. If the Violin be high-built, the post requires to be nearer the bridge, that its action may be stronger; whilst flat-modelled instruments require that the post be set further away from the bridge. It is not possible to have any uniform arrangement of the sound-post in all instruments; as we have remarked before in reference to the bass-bar, the variations in the thickness, outline, model, &c., of the Violin are so frequent as to defy identity of treatment; uniformity has been sought for, but without success.

The post can only be adjusted by a skilful workman, who either plays himself or has the advantage of having the various adjustments tested by a performer. The necessity of leaving this exceedingly delicate matter in practised hands cannot be too strongly impressed upon the amateur, for the damage done in consequence of want of skill is often irreparable.

There are two methods of setting the sound-post in the instrument: the first fixes it in such a position as to place the grain of the post parallel with the grain of the belly; the second sets it crosswise.

The next important feature to be mentioned is the bridge, which forms no small part of the vibrating mechanism of the instrument, and needs the utmost skill in its arrangement. Its usual position is exactly between the two small niches marked in each sound-hole, but this arrangement is sometimes altered in the case of the stop being longer or shorter. Many forms of bridges have been in use at different periods, but that now adopted is, without doubt, the best. In selecting a bridge great care is requisite that the wood be suitable to the constitution of the Violin. If the instrument is wanting in brilliancy, a bridge having solidity of fibre is necessary; if wanting in mellowness, one possessing soft qualities should be selected.

We now pass to the neck of the Violin, which is made of sycamore or plane-tree. Its length has been increased since the days of the great Italian masters, who seem to have paid but little attention to this portion of the instrument, in regard to its appearance and as to the wood used for its manufacture, which was of the plainest description. It may be observed that in those times the florid passages which we now hear in Violin music were in their infancy, the first and second positions being those chiefly used; hence the little attention paid to the handle of the instrument. Modern requirements have made it imperative that the neck should be well shaped, neither too flat nor too round, but of a happy medium. The difficulties of execution are sensibly lessened when due attention is paid to this requirement.

The finger-board is of ebony, and varies a little in length according to the position of the sound-holes. To form the board properly is a delicate operation, for if it be not carefully made the strings jar against it, and the movements of the bow are impeded. The nut, or rest, is that small piece of ebony over which the strings pass on the finger-board.

The purfling is composed of three strips of lime-tree, two of which are stained black. Whalebone purfling has been frequently used, particularly by the old Amsterdam makers.

The principal parts of the instrument have now been described, and there remain only the pegs, blocks, strings, and tail-piece, the sum of which makes up the number of fifty-eight constituent parts as before mentioned. There is still, however, one item of the construction to be mentioned which does not form a separate portion of the Violin, but which is certainly worthy of notice, viz., the button, which is that small piece of wood against which the heel of the neck rests. The difficulty of making this apparently insignificant piece can only be understood by those who have gone through the various stages of Violin manufacture. The amount of finish given to the button affects in a great measure the whole instrument, and if there is any defect of style it is sure to be apparent here. It is a prominent feature, and the eye naturally rests upon it: as the key-stone to the arch, so is the button to the Violin.

The sound-holes, or f-holes, it is almost needless to remark, are features of vital importance. Upon the form given to them, and the manner of cutting them, largely depend the volume and quality of tone. The Italian makers of Brescia and Cremona appear to have been aware of the singular influence the formation of the sound-hole has upon the production and quality of sound. The variety of original shapes they gave to them is evidence of their knowledge. Appearance in keeping with the outline of their design may have influenced them in some measure, but not entirely. Most makers used patterns from which to cut their sound-holes; Joseph Guarneri and some others appear to have drawn them on the belly, and cut them accordingly.

From the foregoing remarks upon the various portions of the Violin it may be assumed that the reader has gained sufficient insight into the process of its manufacture to enable him to dispense with a more minute description of each stage.

In conclusion, I cannot refrain from cautioning possessors of good instruments against entrusting them into the barbaric hands of pretended repairers, who endeavour to persuade them into the belief that it is necessary to do this, that, and the other for their benefit. The quack doctors of the Violin are legion—they are found in every town and city, ready to prey upon the credulity of the lovers of Fiddles, and the injury they inflict on their helpless patients is frequently irreparable. Unfortunately, amateurs are often prone to be continually unsettling their instruments by trying different bars, sound-posts, &c., without considering the danger they run of damaging their property instead of improving it. Should your instrument need any alteration, no matter how slight, consult only those who have made the subject a special study. There are a few such men to be found in the chief cities of Europe, men whose love for the instrument is of such a nature that it would not permit them to recommend alterations prejudicial to its well-being.