The Art of Violin

“When you play a violin piece, you are a storyteller, and you’re telling a story.” ~ Joshua Bell

To me, the beauty, mystique and resonance of the violin is both beguiling and irrefutable. The instrument’s tone, agility and versatility is unsurpassed in classical music repertoire. Of course, I adore all stringed instruments, with the cello coming a close second.

gottlieb-painting-violin_bigLooking at the design of the violin I love the way the wide curves of the upper and lower bouts contrast with the inverted C-bouts (the waist), to give it that sensual shape, and the elegant f-holes, along with the combination of the long and graceful fingerboard leading to the peg box and the scroll, which can be quite elaborate on older violins. Then you have the sheen and shine of their wood exteriors, usually spruce and maple. It is a thing of beauty!

Ancient liras, violettas and violas were created by the school of Brescia in the late 14th century, and in 1574 the Bertolotti Gasparo da Salò family made what is considered the finest carved and decorated Renaissance violin in the world, which was once owned by Ferdinand II, Archduke of Austria. Its current home is the Vestlandske Kustindustrimuseum in Bergen, Norway.

From Wikipedia:

Early History:

The Persian geographer Ibn Khurradadhbih (d. 911) of the 9th century, was the first to cite the bowed Byzantine lira as a typical instrument of the Byzantines and equivalent to the rabāb used in the Islamic Empires of that time. The Byzantine lira spread through Europe westward and in the 11th and 12th centuries European writers use the terms fiddle and lira interchangeably when referring to bowed instruments (Encyclopædia Britannica. 2009). In the meantime rabāb was introduced to the Western Europe possibly through the Iberian Peninsula and both bowed instruments spread widely throughout Europe giving birth to various European bowed instruments.

Over the centuries that followed, Europe continued to have two distinct types of bowed instruments: one, relatively square-shaped, held in the arms, known with the Italian term lira da braccio (meaning viol for the arm) family; the other, with sloping shoulders and held between the knees, known with the Italian term lira da gamba (or viola da gamba, meaning viol for the leg) group. During the Renaissance the gambas were important and elegant instruments; they eventually lost ground to the louder (and originally viewed as less aristocratic) lira da braccio family of the modern violin.

Between the 16th and 19th centuries, several changes occurred, including:

  • the fingerboard was made a little longer to be able to play even the highest notes, in the 19th century.
  • the fingerboard was tilted a little more, to produce even more volume as larger and larger orchestras became popular.
  • nearly all old instruments were modified, including lengthening of the neck by one centimeter, in response to the raising of pitch that occurred in the 19th century.
  • the bass bar of nearly all old instruments was made heavier to allow a greater string tension.
  • the classical luthiers nailed and glued the instrument necks to the upper block of the body before gluing on the soundboard, while later luthiers mortise the neck to the body after completely assembling the body.
  • the chinrest was invented in the early 19th century by Louis Spohr.

Amati eldest dated violinWe can thank the French Renaissance for what we know today as the ‘modern’ violin. In Cremona, Andrea Amati created the first batch of violins in 1564 at the behest of King Charles IX, who wanted to create a new musical sound for the kingdom of France.  Amati was credited with adding the fourth string to the existing three-stringed ancient violin type instrument. His instruments were beautifully adorned with art work. There is a wonderful display of Amati instruments at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford.

Andrea passed his violin making skills down to his two sons, Antonio and Girolamo, who in turn inspired the latter’s fourth son, (Andrea’s grandson), Nicolo Amati. Among Nicolo’s aspiring students were Andrea Guarnerius and Antonio Stadivari.  Alongside the slightly newer violins of Jacob Stainer of Austria, these instruments are the most sought after and valuable in the world.

Zsolt-Tihamér Visontay (the Leader of the London based Philharmonia orchestra), does a great job of explaining the basics about the violin and his role in the orchestra:

One of my heroes on the violin, Itzhak Perlman, has made some very helpful short videos to assist us amateur violinists with our technique!

For violin lovers here is a fabulous documentary titled: The Art of Violin:

Part 1:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_kS_UPylmg

Part 2:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLPIoh5C92A

After discussing the ‘ordinary’ Strad (if there is such a thing), played by the late David Oistrakh, and the amazing sound that he achieved with it; Itzhak Perlman concludes that, ‘the sound comes from the individual, not the instrument.’

Renaissance artist and sculptor Gaudenzino Ferrari painted the earliest known depiction of the violin. And now to the visual art of violin! I have included a small gallery of some of my favourite paintings and images of the violin in still life and in a living setting:

“You are the music while the music lasts.” ~ T.S. Eliot

Ode to Autumn…

“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.” ~ Albert Camus

As the twilight of the year is upon us I thought I would give you a break from my ramblings and offer instead some high culture to round off my favourite season – Autumn.

Claude Monet - the-studio-boat-1876

Claude Monet – The Studio Boat (1876)

I have taken a selection of poetry, music and art relating this most rustic of seasons, (and yes, it wouldn’t be complete without some music from Vivaldi!) to fill you with awe and admiration at nature’s most vibrant of transitions.

It seems appropriate to turn to prose, while the last of the orange leaves cling doggedly to wind-battered trees…

The temporary and mutable aspects of our existence are highlighted so beautifully in Autumn.  The descriptions of Autumn in relation to a human lifespan mirror those of the seasons, and can be likened to a person reaching their most vivid and vibrant peak; having reaped the harvest of a lifetime of experience, still benefiting from bountiful health, before the inevitable decline into the winter of life, which implies death…

In that regard perhaps we’d all wish for an Indian summer!

Enjoy some wonderful, evocative paintings by the likes of Monet, van Gogh, Henry Herbert La Thangue, Atkinson Grimshaw and Camille Pissarro, mixed with some of the most beautiful verses ever written about Autumn…

Digging ~ Edward Thomas (1878 – 1917)

Today I think

Only with scents, – scents dead leaves yield,

And bracken, and wild carrot’s seed,

And the square mustard field;

 

Odours that rise

When the spade wounds the root of tree,

Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,

Rhubarb or celery;

The smoke’s smell, too,

Flowing from where a bonfire burns

The dead, the waste, the dangerous,

And all to sweetness turns.

 

It is enough

To smell, to crumble the dark earth,

While the robin sings over again

Sad songs of Autumn mirth.

Autumn Garden - Van Gogh

Marsh Marigolds ~ Nora Hopper (Mrs Chesson) (1871 – 1906)

Here in the water-meadows

Marsh Marigolds ablaze

Brighten the elder shadows

Lost in autumn haze.

Drunkards of sun and summer

They keep their colours clear,

Flaming among the marshes

At the waning of the year.

 

Thicker than bee-swung clovers

They crowd the meadow-space:

Each to the mist that hovers

Lifts an undaunted face.

Time that has stripped the sunflower,

And driven the bees away,

Hath on these golden gypsies

No power to dismay.

 

Marsh marigolds together

Their ragged banners lift

Against the darkening weather,

Lost rains and frozen drift:

They take the lessening sunshine

Home to their hearts to keep

Against the days of darkness,

Against the time of sleep.

marsh-marigolds by Henry Herbert la Thangue (1859 - 1929)

John Keats – Ode to Autumn:

Yoko Ono

Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence.

Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance.

Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence.

Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.

Monet - Japanese Bridge in Autumn

“No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.” ~ John Donne

Elegy IX: The Autumnal 

Dante Gabriel Rossetti – Autumn Song:

 “That time of year thou mayst in me behold” (Sonnet 73)  by William Shakespeare

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see’st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west;

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the deathbed whereon it must expire,

Consumed with that which it was nourished by.

This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

John Atkinson Grimshaw - november-afternoon-stapleton-park

William Blake – To Autumn:

 Charles Baudelaire – Chant d’Automne

I

Soon we shall plunge into the cold darkness;

Farewell, vivid brightness of our short-lived summers!

Already I hear the dismal sound of firewood

Falling with a clatter on the courtyard pavements.

 

All winter will possess my being: wrath,

Hate, horror, shivering, hard, forced labor,

And, like the sun in his polar Hades,

My heart will be no more than a frozen red block.

 

All atremble I listen to each falling log;

The building of a scaffold has no duller sound.

My spirit resembles the tower which crumbles

Under the tireless blows of the battering ram.

 

It seems to me, lulled by these monotonous shocks,

That somewhere they’re nailing a coffin, in great haste.

For whom? — Yesterday was summer; here is autumn

That mysterious noise sounds like a departure.

II

I love the greenish light of your long eyes,

Sweet beauty, but today all to me is bitter;

Nothing, neither your love, your boudoir, nor your hearth

Is worth as much as the sunlight on the sea.

 

Yet, love me, tender heart! be a mother,

Even to an ingrate, even to a scapegrace;

Mistress or sister, be the fleeting sweetness

Of a gorgeous autumn or of a setting sun.

 

Short task! The tomb awaits; it is avid!

Ah! let me, with my head bowed on your knees,

Taste the sweet, yellow rays of the end of autumn,

While I mourn for the white, torrid summer!

autumn-montfoucault-pond-1875 Camille Pissarro

Miles Davis – Autumn Leaves:

The brilliant baroque concerto from Antonio Vivaldi with Julia Fischer and the Academy of St. Martin In The Fields:

I’ll leave you with this poignant performance of Tchaikovsky – The Seasons ‘October’ Vladimir Tropp on Piano:

 

 “I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.” ~ Henry David Thoreau