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The Cello, How It Works: A practical guide to cello ownership Michael J. Pagliaro

106PP ISBN 9781475869125 ROWMAN & LITTLEFIELD $25

With the odd syntax of the title included, the book is what it says on the tin – a guide to the cello and most of the things it does. This is what we have inside: ten chapters, some of which are divided into lessons to split up the text. Topics include everything from cello wood, analysis of the workings of the bow, home adjustments for the instrument, practice tips and a dictionary for cello students. Let’s open this magical world of the cello and take a closer look.

The book opens with an explanation of scientific pitch notation, with all the Cs written out on the stave and numbered. The workings of the cello are described in chapter one, which is divided into several lessons as new topics are introduced. There is a description of how the sound is made, how to tune your cello, your bow and its parts. Lesson six in chapter one introduces the notion of changing notes, and there are several pages here of an ‘advanced fingering chart’, followed by a ‘basic fingering chart’ (this last a diagram system often familiar from guitar fret identification). Chapter two moves on to caring for your cello, and how to make set-up adjustments yourself. Chapter three embraces the planning of practice sessions, including some pointers to apps to support practice and tuning. We move on to descriptions of different types of strings and mutes, drawings of bow cases and music stands, and some additional accessories such as polish. The making of cellos is the next subject, and there are photographs of steps in the process and descriptions, some quite detailed. The history of the cello follows in chapter six, schools of making are introduced, and refer to the leading makers of each one. It is now the turn of the bow, and a discussion of bow making is followed by the history of their evolution. There is a dictionary for cello students in chapter nine, and a review of cello parts in chapter ten (information repeated from earlier in the book). Throughout there are useful photographs.

Apart from the history, the cello is treated in isolation and isn’t linked to the wider violin family, so reading this book it does seem as though the cello is a strange, isolated beast. Where it does have a past, we find that its history is allied to the viol, a link that is usually discredited in contemporary thinking, but I liked the description of plucked instruments, and it isn’t always the case that bows are given their due in pages of analysis.

I worry about the inclusion of ‘making minor adjustments’. Although this includes tips on treating slipping pegs, it also mentions adjusting the bridge position. Elsewhere, there is detail on ‘successful tuning’, including the instruction: ‘It is very important you force the pegs into the red holes. If you just turn the peg , it will not hold the string in tune.’ Well, yes, all these points are true, but for beginner cellists, these aspects are always delegated to someone who carries some playing or teaching experience. No child should be encouraged to tune like this, or move the bridge. This brings me on to wondering who the book is for.

My take-home from this cello analysis is that its very breadth and detail make it the perfect book for a school project on the cello, or for a keen young player wishing to look a little further. Adults might be interested. Anyone who really knows about instruments will find the content too basic, and the playing charts look indigestible even if useful. Anyone who knows too little is unlikely to think, ‘Aha, this is the book to support my G major scale.’ But it could be good for the serious cello student who wishes to know some more.

It is a pity that the ultimate aim of playing the cello – to play music – isn’t addressed in a chapter on repertoire. It would have been interesting to have at least a list of cello concertos, sonatas, solos in the symphonic repertoire or a mention of string quartets with notable contributions for the cello.

The prose is lucid and the explanations clear. The illustrations and photographs supplement the text, and are especially detailed regarding the making process. The book is in black and white, with a good colour cover showing a perfect cello bow hold. The book is copublished in partnership with American organisation the National Association for Music Education.

ANNE INGLIS

COURTESY JORDI PINTO

The Parramon Tenor Viola Jordi Pinto

240PP ISBN 9788409425440 CASA PARRAMON €150

I admit to not having known about the Parramon tenor viola before reading this excellent publication. In it, Jordi Pinto takes us on an exhaustive exploration of a littleknown Catalan 20th-century phenomenon in a beautifully produced book on the topic.

In this treasure trove we learn about the enterprising Ramón Parramon i Castany (1880–1962), the cellist, maker and entrepreneur who ran a very successful shop employing top luthiers as well as representing the best German, English and French makers of the time. Parramon was ahead of the field in Spain, perhaps emulating the great businessman Vuillaume. His workshop created many fine instruments and founded an annual competition with a generous prize of a Parramon-made instrument. One gets the impression that Parramon created a workshop team that was better than the sum of its parts; that’s rare. Parramon was also a friend of Pablo Casals, who guided and supported him in his viola adventure.

A hundred years ago, the viola was trying to emerge from the shadows and had some illustrious champions such as William Primrose, Lionel Tertis and Paul Hindemith, so the territory was fertile ground for development and Parramon seized the challenge. The issue, as he saw it, was that the viola lacked the physical proportions to enable it to excel. He therefore created the Parramon tenor viola to make the viola into a truly soloistic instrument.

Parramon’s solution was an instrument with a large body (around 550mm) played sitting down like a cello, with a spike. The tuning remained the same. These instruments were met with some trepidation but gained ground quite quickly, with good numbers being made between 1932 and 1936.

Parramon used his competition to promote the new tenor viola. Concerts followed and in 1935 a well-received performance in Paris featured the instrument in a specially composed piece by Marius Casadesus: Barcelona Symphonic Poem. The book then gives details of concerts and a recording, with the future looking bright: 1936 seemed to be another breakthrough year, as other orchestras adopted or considered adopting the Parramon model. But later that year, with the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War, Parramon went to live in exile, which sounded the death knell for his business. The onset of World War II was the final nail in the coffin. It’s sad these two conflicts robbed us of this promising addition to the string world, halting the widespread exposure and acceptance that Parramon’s invention perhaps deserved.

Rafael Gálvez Bellido playing his tenor viola

This book is created in sumptuous style: good paper, nicely bound, and very well laid out. There is a wellpresented gallery of the violas and moulds; the photographs of the instruments are well lit and printed. The instruments themselves are a very attractive Amati/Stradivari melange with the clean, crisp workmanship one usually associates with French instruments – although unlike those, they were finished in an even, deep amber-coloured thick varnish, giving a hint of the late Italian school.

Pinto has structured this book very well, from putting the instrument in context through to its creation and the clever promotion that Parramon executed. Details of the instruments, a gallery section and plenty of interesting adverts and ephemera adorn the text. He can rest assured that he has done the subject justice. In short, Pinto has created a marvellous and intriguing archive – one that will be valued for many years.

PHILIP BROWN