An exceptionally fine violoncello of FrancescoRugger was the cause of a lawsuit some years ago, on account of its falling a victim to false labelling, whereby it purported to be the work of Antonio Stradivarius. This handsome instrument belonged at one time to King George IV., who was an enthusiastic amateur violoncellist but scarcely an adept. There is a story told that when King George was Prince of Wales he played the violoncello one day before Handel, and desiring to hear what the great man thought of his performance inquired, “How do you think I play?” It was impossible to reply to such a question truthfully, coming as it did from a royal interrogator, so the wily Teuton had to temporise, “Like a Brince, your Royal Highness,” he answered with warmth, “like a Brince!”
The Duke of Cambridge was the next owner of the pseudo Stradivarius, after which it passed into the hands of Mr Corsby, by whom it was sold to Mr Shuttleworth. In 1877, the same instrument was sold by auction among the collection of musical instruments put upon the market by the death of Mr Parera of Manchester. It figured in the catalogue as an Antonio Stradivarius, and realised the sum of £370.
Several eminent artists have employed Francesco Rugger’s violoncellos for concert work. Ladislaus Zelenka, professor of the violoncello at the Conservatoire at Odessa, and former pupil of Herr Hugo Becker, possessed a very fine violoncello by this maker. Mr Bertie Withers has also an excellent “il Per” instrument dated 1679, and the favourite violoncello of the eminent English violoncellist, Mr W. E. Whitehouse, is a very handsome, small-sized Rugger, in a high state of preservation.
Pietro Giacomo Rugger, who was at work in Brescia at the same time as Francesco of the same name, pursued his labours in Cremona, was another member of the family who made violoncellos of modified dimensions. There are so many points of similarity between his instruments and those of Johannes Baptiste Rugger, who worked both at Cremona and Brescia, that conjecture credits them with joining forces. The violoncellos of Giacomo are distinguished by beautiful varnish and elegant sound holes, but the scrolls lack breadth and boldness. Signor Piatti owned a fine characteristic example of this maker’s work which passed into the possession of Miss Muriel Handley. It is dated 1717. The gamut ofprices realised from time to time by this violoncello is one of the many revelations of the caprices of fiddle dealing. Before Signor Piatti became its owner, it had been sold for £30, Piatti parted with it for £500 (!), and after that it was insured for £800.
Milan boasted a favourite pupil of Nicolo Amati, Paolo Grancino, an excellent violoncello-maker, who, doubtless, was one of those who found the competition too much for him in Cremona and sought fresh fields. His instruments are reminiscent of his master, the wood and workmanship good, but the tone is hardly suited to a concert hall. A better craftsman was his son, Giovanni, who also practised his art in Milan in 1703.
In Naples there was Alessandro Gagliano whom the Prince Joussupoff, in his “Luthomonographie” (Frankfort, S.M., 1856), announces to have been the son of a marquis of that name. According to this author, Gagliano, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, was compelled to flee from Naples, in order to escape the vigilance of the police, who were endeavouring to capture him on account of a murder he had committed. The hunted man withdrew to a forest in the neighbourhoodof Marghanetto Borgo, and while there, passed the weary hours—for want of better occupation—in carving violin-shaped instruments on the trunks of the trees. Discovering by this means that his hand was apt at such work, he adopted the profession of violin making, and as soon as the police had grown weary of the pursuit boldly established a workshop in Naples. We cannot vouch for the veracity of this story; fiddles have a trick of creating romances, but Gagliano’s sojourn in the wood is generally considered to have been the cause of his excellently chosen pine, and good quality sycamore.
Alessandro’s son, Nicolo, made some remarkably good violoncellos resembling Stradivarius’. The varnish is much darker than his father’s.
Venice claimed one of the best makers of violoncellos of his time, in Stradivarius’ pupil, Domenico Montagnana. The “mighty Venetian,” as Mr Charles Reade called him, found the market too much monopolised by his master, and after a short trial in Cremona removed to Venice. He soon attained great popularity there, and during the latter part of Stradivarius’ life sent out magnificent basses and violoncellos from his workshop. His knowledgeof thicknesses, material, and varnish, which he brought with him from the great Cremona school, placed him head and shoulders above his Venetian contemporaries. The gentle curves of his model, the grandly cut scroll—which even surpassed the beauty of his master’s work—and, above all, the rich tone, are the qualities which combine in making Montagnana’s violoncellos perfect instruments. The late Mrs Lewis Hill was the owner of one of the finest known violoncellos by this maker. It belonged for many years to the French musician and composer, Félicien David (born 1810, died 1876), and after his death it was sold to the well-known French violoncellist, M. Francois of Douai, who retained it for some years and then sold it to an amateur, Signor Parenti, who ultimately sold it to Messrs Hill & Son. In 1902, Mr W. H. Squire purchased it of that firm on behalf of Mrs Lewis Hill, in whose possession it was employed to complete her fine Quartet, consisting of two Stradivarius violins, an Amati viola, and this violoncello. The instrument is a typical example in every way, the proportions being untouched, and is now the property of Mr W. H. Squire, to whom it was bequeathed by Mrs Hill.
Rome claimed David Tecchler as the maker,par excellence, in Stradivarius’ time. He continued to be the most prominent maker of that city of dried bones and priests, for quite half-a-century, and gained repute as a maker of handsome basses and violoncellos—the latter mostly large sized. He also gained experience in Venice, and Salzburg, gathering his knowledge of good timber from the first, and an unfortunate stiff sound-hole from the second.
Returning to Cremona towards the latter years of Stradivarius’ life we find a new and excellent maker—his pupil, Carlo Bergonzi—firmly established near his master. At one time he was deemed Stradivarius’ best pupil, whereas the Cremona master’s son, Francesco—whose work has been frequently attributed to Bergonzi—in reality surpassed his. The beauty of form and rare quality of tone which characterise Bergonzi’s violoncellos bear testimony to the great school in which he was trained. He believed in putting plenty of wood in his instruments, a practice which has allowed them to withstand the wear and tear of centuries of usage better than those of many of his contemporaries. The Manchester violoncellist Herr Carl Fuchs—a favourite pupil of Davidoff—had a grand Bergonzi violoncello, a couple of years ago, and the instrument usually employed for concert work by Mr W. H. Squire is also a fine example of this maker, which he purchased from the widow of Herr G. Libotton.
While all these makers were occupied in developing the instrument itself, there were other influences working to bring it to more worthy uses. The rapid progress in violin playing, and the establishment of a clearer and better method of fingering, had its effect on the violoncello. With a surer system of shifting came a firmer grip of the hand and a more sonorous tone. The old violists could think of no other way of balancing the incongruity of sound which existed between the “shrieking violin” and its duller companion, than by the use of double the number of bass-viols to prevent its “outcrying” the lower parts. Never employ the violin, cautions Thomas Mace, “but with the proviso, viz. Be sure to make an equal provision for them by addition and strength of basses so that they may not outcry the rest of the music (the basses especially).” A thorough musician, and an artist,jusque au fond, Corelli was one of the earliest composers to realise the ineffectual use of the bass-violwith the violin; and did not scruple to discard its services for that of the violoncello. Besides his employment of it in his numerous sonatas fordue violini e violoncello, etc., he also adopted the custom of an accompanying violoncello for his solo performances. For a long time this rôle of travelling about and accompanying violinists, was played by violoncellists, who—although they were not always exact in their execution or accompanying—by this means, at least, raised it out of its low position in the orchestras. The possibilities of the instrument for solo purposes began to suggest itself to performers, and the shortcomings of the gamba more comprehended. As early as 1691, tentative efforts to bring the violoncello forward as a solo instrument were being made, and a method, or treatise, on the art of playing the instrument in this manner was written by a gifted artist in Parma in that year. Among the many works in connection with this subject which we have perused, we lately came across a rare pamphlet describing three interesting old musical instruments—i.e.a harp, a carved violin, and a carved violoncello—preserved in the Museum Artistico Estense in Modena. This littlebrochurecame from the pen of Count Valdrighi—one of the most industriousand indefatigable of musical historians—and was printed for private circulation only. It is altogether a most fascinating little pamphlet, and, although numbering but fifteen pages, lacks none of the flowing metaphor and grace so indelibly associated with Italian literature; moreover the description of each instrument is supported by excellent photographs. The exquisitely carved violoncello of which we have a picture before us (p. 174), owes its rich ornamentation to Domenico Galli of Parma, a wood-carver of great repute at the end of the seventeenth century and the beginning of the eighteenth. According to Count Valdrighi, Galli made this sumptuous violoncello for Frances II., Duke of Modena, and presented it to him together with a treatise on the violoncello as a solo instrument entitledTrattenimento musicale sopra il violoncello a solo ausaciato all’ Altezza Serima de Francesco II. duc di Modena Reggio. The title-page of this interesting MS., which is preserved in the Bibliothèque of the Estense Museum, is gracefully decorated by Galli himself, and the date, 8th September 1691, furnishes us with the information that this work is the earliest known attempt at a method for the violoncello. The wealth of carved ornamentation on Galli’s violoncello and violin weredesigned with a special purpose. Thus, while the exquisite little figure of Orpheus which adorns the centre of the back of the violin alludes to the peace enjoyed by the people of Modena under the temperate government of Frances II. and also to the musical tastes of the Duke, the violoncello dabbles in politics and religion. Hercules slaying the hydra is meant to depict the character of the Duke’s nephew, while the figure of Minerva with the cloak of Pallas about her shoulders represents Mary Queen of England, who had assumed her father’s rights. The lions are symbolical of Mary’s father, James II., at that time an alien under the protection of Louis XIV.,Le Roi Soleil, portrayed by the sun supported by two figures, over the carved form of Hercules. Besides the main point which Galli strove to represent—namely, a strong desire that the Catholic party might be victorious and the house of Este restored to the throne of England—the violoncello is covered with delicately carved representations of all things appertaining to the mineral, vegetable, and animal world. Flowers, fruits, shells, nymphs, satyrs, form a thickly encrusted background to the main theme. The fairylike execution of these is amazing, and worthy of aGrinley Gibbons. If fault were to be found it lies alone in the over-generous details of the design, yet the whole is so skilfully wrought that this cannot be looked upon as a defect. Not a petal of the flowers, not a line in the delicate shells, not a lock in the sirens’ hair that is not perfect, and well fitted to be the satellite of the main scheme. The ribs of the violoncello are as profusely covered with similar embellishments as the back.
CARVED VIOLONCELLO BY GALLI
CARVED VIOLONCELLO BY GALLI.Modena, 1690.
Truly “a thing of beauty is a joy for ever,” and time only increases its loveliness when it is cherished. Galli’schefs-d’œuvrewill always find admirers, as indeed will all the gracefully decorated musical instruments of past centuries. Look at thisgamba de luxe, one can call it nothing less, close beside us. Where will you find more faultless inlaying in ivory and tortoise-shell? Most pleasing to the eye, is it not? Yet its very beauty exemplifies one of the greatest pitfalls of the olderluthiers. To the ancient maker, ornamentation was as irresistible as was the Lorelei’s golden hair to the sailors of the Rhine. Most Italian makers had realised the deleterious effects of inlaying and carving before Stradivarius’ time, but many of the great Cremona master’s German contemporaries werestill caught in its delusive toils. Dwelling in Hamburg there was an unequalled stringed-instrument maker named Joachim Tielke, who fashioned his lutes of real ivory and ebony, inlaid the necks thereof with gold, and silver, and mother-of-pearl, while the pegs were formed of the finest tortoise-shell. These lutes were destined for the slim hands of the satin-clad dilettanti of the day, who boldly faced the many difficulties and intricacies of the instrument for the sake of its beauty. According to Mattheson,[31]if a lutanist attained the age of eighty, one might be certain that he had spent sixty years in tuning; a tedious operation, as the lute never remained long in tune. An older writer, Thomas Mace, in his “Musick Monument,” London, 1676, discussing the shortcomings of the lute, seriously advises that it should be kept, in the daytime, between the rug and blankets of a bed which was constantly used. It is hardly surprising that the exasperating sensitiveness to atmospheric changes to which this instrument was subject was at once the delight and despair of its votaries, and that makers observing these difficulties should attempt to please their patrons by ornamentingother less fragile instruments in lute fashion. Tielke of Hamburg at all events transferred his lute decorationsen blocto his gambas, as this instrument and some others reveal.
The gamba of this make which is before us has unfortunately been fitted by some vandal with a machine head, but otherwise is as perfect as when it left Tielke’s hands over three hundred years ago. No doubt, the original pegs were of ivory tipped with a dainty jewel to correspond with those which were let into the neck. Before it became the property of the South Kensington Museum it was owned by Mr Simon Andrew Forster, the joint author of the well-known “History of the Violin.” Two excellent pictures of this instrument are included in this volume, and also the information that Mr Forster purchased it from Mr John Cause, the artist, who had lent it to the directors of the “Ancient Concerts,” held in the Hanover Square Rooms in the spring of 1845. These concerts were organised to take place in this obsolete concert hall by a small body of aristocratic music lovers headed by the Prince Consort, and it was under his auspices that the second concert of the season was not only devoted to the sixteenth-century music, butwas performed on the ancient instruments themselves. M. Fetis, at that time director of the Brussels Conservatoire, supplied a number of old instruments from the Musée of the Conservatoire, and the orchestra on the evening of the 16th April 1845, presented,—whatThe Illustrated London Newsterms,—“a grotesque sight.” There was a “Violino Francesi,” says the above authority, a “viola da gamba” (now before us), a “viola d’Amore,” and a “viola da Braccio,” a “Theorbo,” “violino,” “guitar,” “harp,” and an “organ,” played respectively by Messrs Loder, Hatton, J. F. Loder, Ventura, Dragonetti, Don Cubra, T. Wright, and Lucas. The complete programme of the concert may be seen in full inThe Illustrated London Newsfor 19th April 1845, suffice it here to say that the twopièces de résistancecomprised a concerto, played on Antique Instruments, and composed by Emile del Cavalieri (1600), and an anonymous fifteenth-century Romanesca, performed in a like manner. Both Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort, appeared to be highly delighted with the concert, and at the end, invited Mr Hatton to play a solo on his viola da gamba in the tea-room.
Since this galaxy of musical instruments ofthe past astonished Londoners, we have had many other interesting attempts at recalling the ancient viols to the concert platform, but notwithstanding the success of these appearances, there is no danger of the gamba ever getting the upper hand of the violoncello again. The latter has steadily taken its place as the leader since the first half of the eighteenth century, when the great Italianluthiersbusied themselves with its graceful form, and the performances of Franciscello first enchanted Scarlatti in Rome, and then astonished all Italy. From that time until the present, makers and players have gone hand in hand. Franciscello’s marvellous achievements inspired others to emulate his powers of attraction, among others Antonio Vaudini, who was Tartini’s great friend and travelled about with him for some time, for the sole purpose of accompanying him. This eccentric association of the high and low instruments belonging to the string quartet led to violoncellists adopting the system of fingering employed for the smaller instrument. The old way of holding the bow in the manner of the viol players—i.e.as double-bass players frequently hold it now—was also discarded for the violinist’s method. Then Antonionetti of Milanand Lanzetti, violoncellist to the King of Sardinia, published some sonatas for the violoncello, which, according to Monsieur Vidal in his “Instruments a Archét,” reveal that the capacities of the instrument to the extent of an octave and a half were known to them. Curiously enough, at this point the zeal shown by the Italians in developing the violoncello somewhat cooled, and the important invention of employing the thumb was left for the Frenchman—Berteau. A few years before this violoncellist’s death in 1756, Michael Corrette published his “Methode, theorique et pratique, pour apprendre en peu de temps le Violoncello ...” Paris, 1741, a work which was the first of its kind. He still adhered to the system of fingering the diatonic scale by stopping whole tones with successive fingers, and his remarks relating to the several systems prevailing among violoncellists, together with his instructions, forthree ways of holding the bow, are indicative of the unsettled state of technique at that time. This condition of uncertainty among players continued until towards the end of the century when Jean Louis Duport published his carefully written “Essai sur le doigté du violoncelle, et sur le conduite de l’archét.” This was the first method in whichthe correct mode of fingering—i.e.a finger for each successive semitone—appeared. Duport’s system was too sound to be anything else than universally adopted, and each successive writer of violoncello schools—Romberg, Dotzauer, Grutzmacher, etc.—have retained the fundamental principles laid down by Duport. To-day there is little executed by violinists that virtuosos of the violoncello cannot accomplish, if they are inclined,—but,—talking about the obvious is always tedious especially at the end of a long day, and we feel that it is nearly time to bid you adieu. So much has already been written by eminent writers on the subject of makers and players subsequent to Stradivarius—of the German, French, and English schools—that it would be superfluous to give a descriptive list of them here. The question as to whether Jacobus Stainer and Joseph Guarnerius del Jesu made violoncellos will always be one of the many subjects to argue about. Yet, apparently they have left evidence that they did make violoncellos. This and other doubtful points may be found adequately discussed in such works as Laurent Grillet’s “Les Ancètres de Violon,” George Hart’s “The Violin,” Anton Vidal’s “Les Instruments a Archét,” VonWasielewski’s “Die Violoncelle,” Luigi Farconi’s “Il Violoncello, il violoncellesta e Violoncellesti,” etc., and to those who seek to dig deeper for themselves, there is the British Museum, and the many Museums, and storehouses, of information, to be found in every country.
Our chief aim during these chats has been to seek out the uncommon rather than to preach, therefore we will end as we have begun, and before parting call your attention to the handsome violoncello belonging to that gifted artist Herr Paul Ludwig, made by a maker of the name of “Chioddi” of whom we can find no record, and as we bid you a regretful adieu, present you with the history of two eminent women gamba players, and the first violoncello prodigy known in this country.
The fog has cleared and we may now dash through endless slush to our respective homes. The pleasant hours are over, let us hope for future meetings, but if this may not come to pass, the memory of to-day will be ever cherished by us.
“Femaleviolinists are rare, the violin being we do not know why deemed an unfeminine instrument....“Female violoncellists are rarer still, and we have never met with one. A young German lady, Mademoiselle von Katow, is delighting Paris by her performances.”—The Spectator, 14th April 1860
“Femaleviolinists are rare, the violin being we do not know why deemed an unfeminine instrument....
“Female violoncellists are rarer still, and we have never met with one. A young German lady, Mademoiselle von Katow, is delighting Paris by her performances.”—The Spectator, 14th April 1860
VIOLA DI BORDONE
VIOLA DI BORDONE.A variety of the Viola da Gamba peculiar to Germany andfavoured by amateurs in the Eighteenth Century. Thisinstrument is in the South Kensington Museum.