The Violin. George Hart
SECTION II
The Construction of the Violin
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.
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| 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").
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| JACOBUS STAINER. Date 1669. |
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| GIUSEPPE GUARNERI DEL GESÙ. (THE "VIEUXTEMPS.") |
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