Artistic licence and the ‘true violin’

Is our understanding of violin history too heavily influenced by the old Italians? Wim Raymaekers argues that, even now, our concept of its evolution is still beset with prejudice

Points of interest to violin and bow makers

FIGURE 1 The Paston Treasure, by a Flemish or Dutch artist, from c.1663–70, shows a violin in the bottom right

The 17th-century painting The Paston Treasure faithfully depicts a number of objects from the Paston family’s collection. Despite, or precisely because of the typical ‘archaic’ features of the violin in the painting, its level of realism has been questioned on the website of the Yale Center for British Art: ‘The exaggerated corners and seemingly oversized f-holes of the instrument suggest that the painter may have exercised artistic licence in depicting these particular features’ (figure 1). This mistrust in the documentary value of artworks is widespread among makers and scholars, who still believe extant instruments are more reliable sources when it comes to studying the early history of violin making.

The second bias is rooted in the strong belief in Cremonese violin making principles as the sole basis for determining whether an instrument is a decent violin or whether it can even be called a ‘violin’ at all. In his article ‘Evolutionary Road’ (The Strad, February 2013) Roger Hargrave fails to abandon an old but persistent myth, when he states that ‘initially, Cremona and Brescia had monopolised the manufacture of the violin and its family’, and ‘by the second half of the 17th century this monopoly began to disappear’. In fact exactly the opposite happened. But in response to a letter on that article in the April 2013 issue, Hargrave makes the distinction between ‘true violins’ in the style of Brescia and Cremona, and instruments ‘in the style of a violin’, meaning everything else. So he actually denied the value, or even the existence, of violin making outside Cremona and Brescia before 1650. Problem solved in his opinion.

THERE IS VERY LITTLE EVIDENCE, IF ANY, FOR THE PRESENCE OF CREMONESE VIOLINS IN THE NORTH BEFORE 1600

This ‘objective’, normative view of the violin still determines the economic and even historical value of the instruments, to such an extent that there is hardly room for a critical and scientific approach. Most people still believe that the violin was born in Italy in the 16th century, and that violin making traditions in Brescia and Cremona have influenced and pushed lutherie activities forward all over Europe ever since. Cremonese, and to a lesser degree Brescian, makers indeed started to integrate elements from the lute into their violins very soon. Their violins were considered superior and welcomed by noblemen in Italy. But this phenomenon should be seen as a regional style of Lombardy that arose amid ‘archaic’ traditions that were once common all over Europe, Italy included.

Except for Paris there is very little evidence, if any, for the presence of Cremonese violins more to the north before 1600. But many people have remained largely blind to this ‘archaic’ lutherie, not least because of the idealisation and mythologisation of the Brescian and Cremonese masters. The few surviving instruments are often tarnished by alteration and forgery, trying to fit them into the Procrustean bed of classical Italian lutherie (figure 2).

FIGURE 2 A1681 violin with a label by Hendrick Aerninck, with ‘improved’ soundholes. The ‘archaic’ shape of the original f-holes is still traceable and can be reconstructed as such.

PASTON TREASURE COURTESY NORFOLK MUSEUMS SERVICE. ALL OTHER IMAGES COURTESY WIM RAYMAEKERS

For most violins dated before 1650, reference is made to at least the influence of Brescia or Cremona. A double inlay or less conventional (often more ‘archaic’) soundholes are sufficient for such reckless identification or attribution. The same uncritical attitude can be found towards old construction methods and the early stylistic developments of the violin. The neck-through construction, for example, is often dismissed as unsuitable, even for so-called ‘Baroque violins’. Here the use of nails through the top-block has become standard. It is obvious why: it was the system the great Italian masters originally used. The fact that this method is not representative for 16th- or 17thcentury violins, and that it wasn’t followed by a majority until the 18th century, is not taken into account. Nor are its disadvantages, certainly in terms of reversibility.

M akers,dealers and researchers generally believe that, when studying early violins, it is best to start from surviving examples and not from paintings. That seems obvious, assuming that the instrument was ‘conceived’ by some talented Italian craftsman and didn’t change much afterwards (another myth, by the way). But nothing could be further from the truth. The lack of knowledge and interest in visual arts as documentary evidence is one of the main reasons why so many fail to see the importance of violin making outside Cremona and Brescia before 1650. The iconographic elements used to compose a work of art, stringed instruments included, are sometimes very realistic, often even rendered from several different angles, and they can be studied in detail. This enables us to recognise recurring characteristics in their construction and, in doing so, discern certain types and developments. They even allow us to realise material reconstructions of vanished objects or spare parts, such as historic bridges or a lost Dutch archaic violin type (figure 3).

As an art historian and violin maker I have studied over a thousand art works from the 16th to the 18th centuries as well as extant instruments. This allows me to formulate plausible answers to the question of how the f-hole arose: cutting the C-hole shape in half and rotating both halves relative to each other (figure 4). That is why f-holes have indents, and why the inner one is placed lower than the outer one. They were merely a result of a visual aesthetic development, and were not, as often assumed, designed as a reference for locating the bridge. Before 1800, most bridges didn’t stand between these notches anyway. This evolution explains most idiosyncrasies in soundholes during the 17th and 18th centuries, all originating from a common type, predominating before 1650, and characterised by sharpedged wings, asymmetric notches and upper and lower circles of the same size. Visual arts are often more reliable and informative than the scarce material testimonies that have come down to us without a good traceable origin.

FIGURE 3 Author’s reconstruction of an archaic violin after Dutch paintings from c.1620–30

Unless the works of art are later redone or restored, normally they are not susceptible to alterations common with bowed instruments: cutting over, damages, repairs, relocations and replacements of spare parts like tailpieces, strings or bridges. As a rule, they put forward a terminus ante quem, meaning the instruments being represented are older than the image itself. But works of art need a critical approach and some knowledge to read them. That is one of the reasons why many researchers are afraid to use them or fail to interpret them properly. Careful reading of the sources, visual art objects included, is the key factor to broadening our knowledge of early violins, and our ability to reconstruct them. This is the gap that needs to be filled. The early history of violin making needs to be rewritten, and the new insights need to be popularised.