BOOKS

The Luthier’s Manual by J.C. Maugin Ed/trans. John Saucier, W. Brad Holley, Kate Rickenbacker

280PP ISBN 9780578258317

LIVE OAK BOOKS $37

This neatly bound book has on its title page a woodcut (below) of a violin maker and his client, copied from the original French publication Manuel de Luthier of 1834. In addition, there are numerous line illustrations reproduced from a fold-out plate in the original, making 280 pages in all. It is the result of a collaboration of editing and translation from the French original by three authors: guitar maker John Saucier, academic W. Brad Holley and luthier Kate Rickenbacker.

The original French edition of The Luthier’s Manual by Jean-Claude Maugin measured only a tiny 4 x 6 inches with 224 pages. The various sections detail the method of construction and other aspects of instruments of the violin family, the guitar and bows. The book was a success in France and went on to achieve two 19th-century editions that were enlarged and corrected by W. Maigne. The first French edition credits and borrows in its pages from the older publications of August Otto and Antonio Bagatella. It concerns itself not just with workshop practices of the early part of the century, but also details the choice and selection of woods, tools, glue, and finishes including varnish.

A Parisian violin maker and client, from 1834

This new English edition is a welcome addition to the small number of translated historic workshop manuals and it enables the Englishlanguage reader to appreciate the complexity and diversity that existed in the European workshops of the early 19th century before the trade had become polarised between the French and Italian methods of violin making, with their respective external or internal moulds.

The book has a table of contents, preface, explanation of the format, explanation of the units of measurement and their translation into centimetres, woods used in construction, dyes, and finishes and diagrams based on Bagatella’s 18th-century exposition on the design of the Brothers Amati violins.

All are carefully and usefully arranged with a parallel French and English format that allows the reader to check nuances of the original language. The illustrative plates of the original have been reproduced and inserted in their correct position in the text, which facilitates the reader’s understanding.

Figure 20, an illustration of a thumb plane, is truncated by a fold in the paper of the original and many of the plates suffer from the 18thcentury malaise of wrong proportions and inadequacy that some modernisation might have prevented.

In some places the literal translation of the French has rendered the English unpleasant and difficult to read, for instance on page 43 ‘ne torment pas’ is translated as, ‘so that it isn’t disturbed’, but ‘so that it does not warp’ would have been much clearer and, in my experience with the process, more correct. In some places, vague guesses have been made concerning the translation of materials. Here a little research might have clarified terminology. On page 131, ‘molette de verre’ should have been translated as ‘a glass muller’ rather than a glass wheel, and on page 139 in the varnish chapter, ‘sang dragon en roseau’ should have been footnoted: it refers to a particular type of dragon’s blood resin, whose manufacture ought to be detailed since it makes a big difference in the tinting power of the ingredient. It should also be noted that turmeric, mentioned as a yellow dye when used as a varnish ingredient, must be sourced correctly, or the common variety yields a colour that can be a sickly greenish-yellow instead of the required yellow-orange.

COURTESY TODD SHIMODA

In general, there are many parts of the translation that should be accompanied by footnotes or endnotes. This might have been judged essential especially in places where the details of construction differ from historic examples. In this respect I was annoyed by the translation of refendre that resulted in the English word ‘split’ when it arguably might have been translated as ‘parted’. Errors in the original French detailing the placement of the bass-bar gave me cause for concern about other details in the text and similarly the references to ‘Rutgeri’ instead of Rugeri and ‘Alvani’ instead of Albani on page 175 did not reflect well on the editors. And in some instances the order of construction seems confused, as though Maugin was a mere observer rather than a trained violin maker.

I imagine this new translation was intended for professionals. The methods of making in all the sections are complex, and a potential source of a minefield of errors for the amateur.

These early publications are all interesting and worthy of further study. I found many parts of this enlightening and especially enjoyed the section on guitar making which, being less prone to trade secrets, is subject to fewer errors than the section on violin making. Laying a veneer around the neck core of a Romantic-model guitar is no small feat and the description of this process in the translation is detailed and workable. All the authors should be congratulated on having progressed the project through to its end, but I am sure that carrying on the business of instrument making and authorship at the same time will never allow sufficient time to make a book that is completely error-free, and they should be applauded for having the temerity to attempt it in the first place.

ANDREW DIPPER

Antonio & Isaac: The Annotated Account of Phillipe Wolf, Composer & Spy

TODD SHIMODA 412PP ISBN 9781956358001

SHIMODA WORKS $28

At the heart of Todd Shimoda’s latest historical novel is the comingtogether (at least by proxy) of two iconic geniuses: Cremona-based Italian luthier Antonio Stradivari, creator of some of the finest instruments ever made, and Lincolnshire-born scientific genius Isaac Newton, who redefined the laws of physics before moving to London to take up his post as warden, and later master, of the Royal Mint.

How Stradivari’s workbench might have looked, according to Antonio and Isaac

Needless to say, Stradivari and Newton have very different ideas on how to make stringed instruments.For Stradivari, the sonic qualities of the wood are of paramount importance, with each instrument tailor-made to enhance its natural properties. ‘I have been humbly making violins and other instruments for over 40 years,’ he points out, ‘and have never made the same instrument twice.’ Not surprisingly, Newton finds this empirical approach far too vague and insists that like any other problem, it must be possible to find a logical solution, requiring the same ‘deep thought and rational experimentation as the creation of any scientific instrument’. Once the perfect template is created, it could then be reproduced time and again.

Bringing these two giants of the Enlightenment era together is Austrian composer Phillipe Wolf, who is in love with Newton’s violinist niece Catherine. On the lookout for a violin superior in penetration to the Amati he has just invested in, and on the basis of attempting to compose the perfect piece for the perfect violin, Wolf acts as a go-between, travelling between London and French-controlled Cremona, while leading a double life as a spy investigating a vicious counterfeit ring on behalf of the Royal Mint.

Without revealing the outcome of either major plot line, it is fair to say that Shimoda will keep you guessing as he skilfully manipulates the story between biographical fantasy and action thriller.

JULIAN HAYLOCK