From the ARCHIVE

Regular columnist Towry Piper bewails the notorious practice among dealers of switching labels in instruments to make them more attractive to buyers

It seems pretty certain that the practice of removing authentic labels from second or third-rate Italian fiddles, and substituting more marketable ones, first began to assume serious proportions in the earlier half of the last century. Whether or not Tarisio was responsible to such an extent as has been hinted for malpraxis of this kind it is impossible to say at this distance of time, in the absence of direct evidence. He certainly had unique opportunities, if minded to avail himself of them; for it is well-known that he used to take his fiddles to pieces when on his business travels in order to escape the customs duties which would have been levied upon instruments in a complete state.

But there were at that period several men of better education than the humble Italian, both on the continent and in our tight little island, who were by no means above attaching false birth certificates to their wares, though it would serve no useful purpose to name them.

In comparatively recent years there is one man whose name has been freely mentioned as a frequent manipulator of labels. I refer to Gioffredo Benedetto Rinaldi who wrote the pamphlet on Pressenda, and brought a number of modern Italian fiddles of the Pressenda and Rocca class into this country. He was, in a sense, Tarisio’s successor, and for many years was a frequent and familiar visitor amongst our London dealers.

Rinaldi, according to an eye witness of his proceedings who was my informant, took no risks of spoiling or losing a label, and if he wished to insert one would retire to an upper chamber in the regions of Soho, where the belly of the fiddle to be operated upon was ripped off in a twinkling, the label placed in situ, and by next morning, or even sooner, the transformed instrument and its not-over-scrupulous owner were ready for business.

Most of us must many times have come across labels such as were used by Italian fiddle repairers and restorers, and usually begin with the words “Revisto e corretto da me,” followed by the workman’s name. Many years ago someone—I am afraid it was Fétis, who certainly should have known better—deciphered the word “Revisto” as “Renisto,” concluded that Renisto was a maker, popped the name into a book, and it has ever since gone echoing merrily down the corridors of time, to adopt a metaphor which seems to be in high favour with some of our scribes just now. I have met quite recently with people who accept Renisto as a fact, and believe he was a pupil of Carlo Bergonzi!

ARPEGGIO PUBLISHING