We must now see to the working down of the graft or neck, not only to the requisite dimensions, but for the finish with some effort at style. By this last is meant such attention to evenness of contour from the button along to the edging of the shell, as shall be strong enough without looking heavy or clumsy; much of the nice appearance of this portion of the work depends upon the neatness of the workman. Assuming the button to be of the normal standard, or we may say, well calculated with regard to size for good effect—a good average width of this at the base where the curved line springs from the border is thirteen-sixteenths, and the projection forward—as it is not a geometrical curve—a half an inch. Some of the old Italian makers left the button very large, others small. The latter never pleases the eye of the connoisseur, who, accustomed to the proportion given it by the best masters (also the modern makers), thinks it looks poor and incomplete. As the neck or graft has hitherto been left but roughly hewn out, it will be projecting for some little distance beyond that which would be occupied by any button of average dimensions. Supposing the button to be too small, or injured, and an addition necessary, for the next move we shall require a pair of compasses; with these, after finding a centre of the segment of a circle formed by the outer edge of the button, with the other point find the distance inward, or the proper segment that is to be retained, bearing in mind that every possible part of the original button should be preserved; putting the point of the compass on the central spot as lightly as circumstances will allow, a thin scratched line must be made with the other point. Here we may remark that screw compasses should be used, so that distance apart of the feet may be kept rigid, as the width and the same circular scratch marked on the button must now be marked on a piece of maple, or, as is sometimes done, on ebony. The grain of either should run in the same direction as that of the button, or if done aslant it will look ugly when worn a little. The materials being matched, the fresh piece should be reduced in thickness to very little over that required for the height of the edging for the button; it should be a small cake of wood large enough to cover and leave a margin where it is to be fitted.
The wood of the button outside of the scratched line will now be cut away down to the raw wood of the new graft; it must be done with small and sharp chisels, carefully paring it down, leaving the edge up to the scratched line quite perpendicular and smooth all round: the strictest attention to this is necessary, so that the fitting on of the fresh edging may be done with exactness. We now take up the little cake of ebony, or maple, as selected, with the scratched line, which should be made from a central point close to the edge as possible: if this is a difficulty, the centre may be taken further in, the circular line also and the superfluous wood cut away to the central point, but not in a way to interfere with the equipoise when the edging is placed on for fitting; if this is not seen to, the edging will, when finished, look awry. The middle within the scratched line may now be first gouged away and the wood cut with a sharp knife close up to and at exact right angles with the plane. A rounded file may with care be used to make a more even surface or run. If all this is done with precision, the parts may be tried together for testing—the glueing may be seen to and the cramping done, with care that the fresh portion does not slip during the process out of its place. Some repairers would be tempted to rely upon the exact fitting, and simply slide the parts together, squeezing them well, but this is always risky. The work may now be put aside to dry.
The next proceeding will be that of working down or levelling both the ebony fingerboard and the graft, or neck. The first, in the state usually sold, will have an apparently well-finished off arching that may sometimes be near enough for letting alone after a little polishing down, but as a general rule it is not so, and further, if having been long "in stock," it may have settled down a little out of the straight during the seasoning process. Recourse should be had to the plane, a rather small metal one in good order with a keen edged iron. This must be closely regulated, or the surface worked upon will not be even but torn; hard woods, as before observed, require humouring and working down gently. The exact arching—in good work—of the ebony should be governed by a cut mould, one for each end. These may be made of some hard wood or metal, such as zinc, and if truly made will last any length of time. They should be trimmed to fit some fingerboard that has been ascertained to be just the thing in its arching. It may be as well to observe that some violinists prefer using a rather flatter fingerboard than others, but the medium is without doubt the best, and is not difficult to arrive at. The plane must be gently worked along from end to end of the fingerboard with as little pressure as possible,—hence the careful regulation and sharpness,—or you will find after a short time that instead of a nice even line, which must be tested from time to time by a straight edged rule, there will be a curved one, and this will necessitate further working down to the danger of losing thickness and sufficient strength in the ebony. If attention is paid to this, and a satisfactory even run of surface is obtained, glass-paper on a piece of straight, soft wood, but not of the finest degree, will be suitable for the present.
We now return to the modelling of the neck from the lower part of the back of the scroll down to the button. This last, with its fresh edging or shield, will require another scratched line, making two semi-circular ones; it must be done from the same centre and calculated to allow of the wood being hewed away outside, leaving the full measurement when finished off.
A chisel will now be brought into requisition for removing the useless wood outside the line last marked. The cushion or sandbag must be brought into use, the violin put face downwards, the fingerboard resting in a hollow. The neck or most convenient part for holding the whole with firmness must be held tightly, the chisel then worked downwards from the button, but not too far so as to cut into the portion that is to gradually enlarge, or form the quarter of a circle or the thickest part of the neck.
We shall now use a strong coarse wood file and turn the instrument round and about, work away the neck until just outside of what will be left when the polishing down takes place.
The curves should all be balanced well even while in the rough and the contour viewed from all points should be regular. The other end of the graft will require the same kind of attention, care being taken that too much wood is not removed. The level from each end must be seen to, leaving just sufficient wood to allow for fining down; the proportions must be well calculated, thus the upper end under the nut will be hewn down thinner than the part approaching the button, the line from each end being made quite even and the curving of the semi-circular shaft gradually tapering upwards. The glass-paper file before referred to will now come into service; it should be made of a nicely-squared plate of wood about six inches in length by about two and a half inches in width, with about one third of an inch in depth. We may call one side the front, the other the back; the edges of the former should be rounded down to a semi-circular form. All we have to do in making this useful file complete is to lap a piece of glasspaper of the degree of grain required round it, nearly meeting at what may be called the back for the time being. The surface with the rounded edging, or, as we have called it, the front, covered with rather strong grained paper, will be worked to make an even course all along the shaft, guarding all the while against working too much at one spot. The paper file may, after a sufficient working along the surface, be exchanged for one or two degrees finer, rubbing it in the same manner. For good mathematically even work, the graft should be turned round frequently, so that the light may throw up any little inaccuracies that may occur and which require individual attention. Here it may be remarked that if possible all repairing would be best done in an apartment that has as little reflected light as possible. The reason for this will soon be apparent when the fining down or polishing stage is commenced. One window, and that not too large, will be found advantageous. Little irregularities, however trifling, are best seen under such a light. Much rough work may very possibly be the consequence of badly-arranged light rather than inability or indifference of the workman. Repairs executed under unfavourable circumstances as above will often look very well until turned about in fresh and different lights, as they are sure to be, and then the faultiness becomes a surprise to the executant.
The glasspaper filing must be continued for some time and with several finer degrees until the surface appears perfectly even and seemingly quite finished, but the stages are not yet complete.
FINISHING THEFINGERBOARD—FIXING THENUT—SIZE ANDPOSITION OFGROOVES FOR THESTRINGS—FILINGDOWN THEGRAFT—SMOOTHING, COLOURING,ANDVARNISHINGSAME.
We now turn our attention to the finish of the fingerboard, which must have its sides attended to for appearing in good trim. For making a nicely worked surface each side, some preparations will have to be made. Firstly, the nut having been cut to the width, or nearly so, of the narrowest end of the fingerboard and glued into position, it will have to be filed down to the height at which it is to remain above the end. The arching will have to be higher in the centre than at each side, in order that when the strings are drawn over tightly, the thickest, or D string, shall have more room to swing than the thinnest, or E. The arching will thus be unequal, the lowest part being at E, next a rise sufficiently for the A, then a further rise for the D, and afterwards a drop again to a little higher than the A; this will be enough for the swing of the G. The grooves for each of these strings must follow in the same order. They will not be equi-distant in one sense, as that would cause them to appear unequal when the strain is on them.
Probably the best way of securing a uniform appearance and the easiest, after one good result, is to cut a metal template with a spike at the central point or middle of where the string is to rest. These points will be found unequal when pricked on to the surface of the nut. A very small, round file should now be used carefully with the run of the fingerboard, or the strings when wound up will look as if pulled aside out of the straight line. The file must be placed exactly on the spot that has been pricked and worked backward and forward as indicated. The ruts must be examined frequently for ascertaining whether they are sufficiently deep. The height of each rut above the fingerboard cannot well be given in fractions of an inch, as they must be regulated to the convenience of the performer. A hard, rasping, orchestral player, with a heavy, unsympathetic bow arm, will require the ruts higher above the board than a soloist of refined taste. The relative heights, one with another, must be the same in both cases. When the ruts are finished, recourse must be had to the glasspaper file again to round the top surface of the nut with an inclination downwards toward the peg-box. This is an arrangement requiring care, as, when the nut is level with the fingerboard, there is danger of the strings jarring. When finished sufficiently even the ruts may require a little further attention, as it is difficult to at once complete them. The two parts are perhaps best worked one with another, neither being finished off in one working and left.
We may now proceed to the further progress of the sides of the fingerboard; this, of course, can only be done when all is settled about the nut, this part requiring to be a continuation, notwithstanding the rise upward of the line from end to end. Preparation must be made for guarding the upper table of the violin from injury, from slips of the glasspaper file during the backward and forward movement. A good way to prevent this is to make a millboard or thick brown paper shield with a part cut away to allow the neck to have a hold. By putting this over the upper table and underneath the fingerboard a part will project forward on each side of the neck; it must be held in position by one hand, while the other holds the paper file, which will be worked along the sides of the fingerboard, at the same time being held nearly vertical. After some little time the part where the ebony joins the graft will appear worked down quite smooth, some finer degrees of the paper will reduce the surface to almost a polish. The nut receiving a part of the working will now present an appearance—as regards form only—of having been left from a reduction of the fingerboard stopping short at a straight line.
This part now, if the fitting of the fingerboard to the graft has been neatly done, will show no line of glue or joint, but simply the difference of material. The upper edges of the ebony may be rounded down along to the end, but less at the lowest.
The whole affair, however, is not yet complete, as the surface to be varnished must be made ready for it. If left in the present condition, players who are very fastidious would be complaining of the work not standing well or deteriorating under use. The cause of this deterioration will be that the moisture from the hand in using this part of the instrument in the raw state makes the grain swell as if wetted; this would occur to some extent even if fully varnished. This must therefore be anticipated by passing a soft, fully haired and wetted brush, or damp sponge, over the whole of the new work. When dry the whole surface will appear rough, or if of soft texture, somewhat corrugated; this must again be levelled down with some of the finest glasspaper, great care being taken that all the parts, and angles especially, are worked over. If the corners are not equally attended to with the rest—and to do this properly the angle of the steel scraper may be used with good effect—there will be a roughness at the part over which the varnish will settle, become rough when dry, and give the appearance of untidy corners. If the scraper with right angles is insufficient to clear the corner satisfactorily, one with a rather acute angle will be found to do the work; it must be sharp, and gently used (or ridges small, large, or both, will become evident), working across first one way then the other until the appearance is quite up to the exactions and desire of the eye.
Another wetting will be of some further benefit for a good and lasting surface. When dry the roughness will not be so obtrusive as in the first instance, and the application of the finest grain of glasspaper, or a piece that has been under use for some time and got a little stale will give the desired surface. The action of the glasspaper over the surface should be continued for some time, until there being less and less powder routed up the surface, it assumes a polished appearance, and if the whole work is well done it will suggest a kind of finish that looks too good to spoil by covering up with varnish. But the latter is a necessity; if not really varnish in the usual sense of the term, a substitute must be used, and here we touch a little upon the confines of fashion or individual fancy.
It may not be generally known that the old Italian makers—I mention these as they have always been looked up to as guides for almost everything in connection with violin facture—varnished the whole of the neck—which under present circumstances we call the graft—with the same varnish and thickness of it as the rest of the instrument. We never see such a thing now, and if a maker were to send forth his new violins in this manner or trim, he would be looked upon as eccentric. Nevertheless at one time it was universal. Probably the increased number of movements of the hand, and especially the thumb, to meet the requirements of more florid execution and in connection with the growth of the ability among players for performing much music on the higher positions or shifts, showed very soon how the coloured varnish looked patchy under wear. This fashion of covering over the most handled part of the instrument with the coloured varnish then became discarded.
"Appearances must be preserved" was found to be an axiom almost forced upon the makers and repairers, and, as time went on, the substitution of strongly curled wood for necks or grafts, in place of the plainer material hitherto used, gradually settled down into the present fashion. Now-a-days the skill of the repairer is exercised in the various treatment of this part. Players vary in their tastes or whims, some liking a perfectly smooth or polished surface as more suitable to their handling than what they understand as an unvarnished neck, others like it the other way as not so likely to slip, there being a little more hold or resistance. Anyhow, the raw wood cannot be left simply glass-papered, this would be speedily followed in use by an accumulation of dirt and grease unpleasant to the eye, and to the touch, clammy and unwholesome. It will therefore be as well to consider the two modes of treatment. In either case the parts of the graft near the insertion in the socket and at the other end where the peg-box is fitted will require varnishing down.
Before active operations commence a fair examination should be made of the colour or complexion of the body of the violin. Very often this has no attention paid to it, with the result of a hideous contrast between the neck and the ribs adjoining, a sign of bad workmanship and carelessness. The materials at hand for making a good match must then be thought over, the most appropriate selected and the number of coats, if possible, determined upon. This latter will be taken in a general sense, as an exact number will not be possible; appearances are in this process deceptive and must be regulated by the exigencies of the moment, but what can be calculated is the question of one or two applications only (which would result in a cheap and common appearance) or a number with the same materials carefully laid to the satisfaction of the repairer.
Without plunging into the whirlpool of the best or particular gums, resins and their individual mode of application, a matter that will take up hereafter our more undivided attention, it may be taken as a certainty that the varnishing materials used for the parts under consideration must be of an alcoholic solution, no other would "set," evaporate or dry with sufficient rapidity to allow of handling: or, as we may put it in another way, that would lose tackiness within a convenient time.
Most people are aware of the nature of an oil varnish during the drying process, there is firstly the "setting," that is, all the volatile particles dispersing; secondly, the real drying or hardening which ensues with sufficient time or age; both accompanied with some degree of contraction, and until the process is complete, handling or friction of any kind has to be carefully avoided. This will at once show its unsuitableness for repairs and restorations, especially of the kind now under consideration. The same process has to be gone through in the drying of a spiritous or alcoholic varnish, but it is so much the more rapid in consequence of there being only the alcohol to disperse, leaving the resin in a comparatively dry state.
Colouring will be the chief consideration after the resin has been selected, and on this the judgment of the operator will have to be centred. For obtaining the effect desired or that is fashionable at the present day, one or two coats or paintings will be commenced at the corners where the graft is inserted in the upper ribs and gradually being thinned off as the curved part rounding upwards from the button dies away. Sometimes in consequence of the fresh wood appearing very white—it is not always possible to obtain aged wood—some colouring material or stain mixed with the first two wettings will subdue the staring aspect, this may be continued along the graft and bring up the figure or curl more prominently. Often between the curves each end of the graft repairers force very strong stain, this being sometimes common writing ink; when varnished over the effect is violent and common even when nicely done. The best that can be recommended is some sufficiently dark wood stain—sold at most of the oil and colourmen's shops—and rub it in, allowing it to dry and then finishing off as before described.
If the neck is to be left unvarnished, as it is termed, the colouring and fining off can be followed with a rubbing of good oil, linseed, raw or boiled, it must be really rubbed in and vigorously frictioned up and down with a dry cloth—or after an application of the same kind with some old fine flannel. This will drive in the oil, consolidating the whole, and as it will dry inside after a time, keep a good smooth surface under usage.
Some repairers continue to varnish or polish along the sides of the fingerboard to the extremity. There is no objection to this, and if very neatly done, the general effect is enhanced. The varnishing of the whole of the fingerboard is perhaps not so good in general, too much glare seeming to obtrude itself, but the filling up the pores with the varnish and then working it down to a dull surface has a good effect and helps in the resistance to wear. The polishing of the neck, or fingerboard with it, may be effected by making a small ball or dabber of about half an inch in diameter of fine grained flannel; this should be covered with another surface of closer material such as calico, but large enough to enclose the little bunch and to be tied up with a piece of string. A portion of varnish being placed ready in a smaller saucer or any convenient porcelain article with a shallow even bottom, the ball or dabber will be moistened with some linseed oil and then its rounded face dipped in the varnish and rubbed briskly, but lightly, over the surfaces to be polished. These surfaces rapidly absorb the polish, while the oil in the dabber allows it to pass over without clinging. The rubbing should be continued until a smooth, glassy appearance comes and you feel sure that the wood has imbibed enough of the polish; this treatment may be continued over all the parts at which it may be desirable to have an even shining surface. The work may now be put aside for some hours, so that the evaporating and hardening may take place. When this has been ascertained to be satisfactory, the surfaces may be wiped gently with some soft, absorbent material which will take away any superfluous particles of oil that may have been accidentally left in the process of rubbing. If there should be some uneven, clotted, or rough parts observable, a small ball or dabber made in the same way as the preceding, but used with spirit and oil instead of varnish, will work these down to a proper condition. For the dead surfacing, care must be taken that all is quite hard enough. Taking a small piece of flannel of fine texture doubled up and with its face well oiled, having some rotten-stone powder at hand, dip in the latter and rub as before lightly round and round over the parts to be dead polished; this will give a nice refined, even appearance, with comparatively little glare. A final wipe off with a soft cloth as before, will bring matters to a conclusion.
INJURIES THAT CAN BE REPAIRED FROM THEOUTSIDE—INSERTION OF FRESHWOOD INFRACTURE OF THERIBS—THEEFFECTS OFCLIMATE ON THEGLUE INVIOLINS.
We may now take this portion of the work as finished and turn to the consideration of repairs of fractures or filling up of parts last. It is early yet to think of opening the instrument for the purpose of rectification of anything that appears to have gone wrong either with the general structure or with small details. A golden rule to be observed by all repairers is that of never opening an instrument—that is removing the upper or lower table—until all other means of correction have proved futile. Extensive repairs to the interior may be accomplished without opening after a very careful look over with proper calculation. There are several reasons for keeping the above rule well in mind, among them, that if the violin is old and has undergone much affliction while under the hands of many doctors, some of these possibly belonging to the "heroic school," it may be found that the last visitant of the interior had straightened, bent, or contracted and held some of the parts together while the glue was in process of drying and that sufficient time had not elapsed since the occurrence for the strained parts to settle down under their new condition. An opening of the violin, removal of upper or lower table or any large portion, must be undertaken after due consideration and every precaution has been taken that nothing shall be disturbed if the reparation can be accomplished without. An opening of the instrument for the purpose of one repair may lead to the necessity of half a dozen before closing up again. Our opening ceremony will therefore be postponed until a future occasion, and we will confine ourselves to the consideration of such external injuries of ancient or recent origin that may be with the least inconvenience restored to ordinary health or even strength. The numbers of such and their varieties are more than can be related, the curious manner of their occurrence, too, would be an addition that would indefinitely prolong the story.
Taking, therefore, small injuries or fractures that can be repaired from the outside, among the first coming to mind and not infrequently seen, is at the corners, a small piece of the projecting part of the rib—one of the upper or lower sets; this may have caught against something and got lifted away from the block, it may be on one side or the other, in size perhaps little more than an eighth of an inch, but all the same requiring immediate attention, or dirt will get in and make an adjourned repair more difficult if not wholly impossible to obscure.
According to the condition, age and date of the injury, so the treatment must be. If the injury is quite recent and the fractures are quite clean, some good thick glue placed on the exposed surface and the lifted piece placed back in position may remain there with no further attention than the wiping off when dry of any superfluous glue that may have exuded when pressing the part on. This has been a simple matter, but if the part knocked away is lost, a different course must be pursued. As it would be impossible to find a piece of fresh wood to fit a ragged or irregular-shaped hollow, there is but one method to proceed upon, that of clearing a regular space with a sharp pointed knife. The walls of the space or opening should be as clean in line as possible, also quite vertical. A small keen-edged chisel may be found advantageous, as, by its aid, using it with the angular or sharpened side downwards, the floor of the excavation can be reduced to a fair level. This hollowing-out should not be too deep, leaving as much as possible of the bare wood uncut, only enough being removed for a good holding surface. If this is done neatly, the opening will be like that of a box into which will be fitted the fresh wood. As to this last it should be selected to match both with regard to texture and age whenever possible, also in continuation of the run of the grain, so that when fitted it should look as much like the surrounding wood as possible, that is, when free of varnish. In cutting the wood to the required size it should not, as in the instance of the aperture, be made with perfectly upright sides, but the parts that are to go into the aperture should be a fraction less than the outer, so as to allow of its being pressed in and fitting very closely all round. As the parts under consideration lie in the curved parts on the structure, to fit a piece in with success, it should also be bent with a requisite curve; if this is not attended to, and the clear varnish comes over it when being finished off, there will be a glistening of the grain underneath when shifted about in the light. To avoid this, which is apt to draw attention to the repaired parts, a larger piece of veneer than necessary should be first bent into the proper curve and the part nearly small enough cut from it and then made to fit. The bending of the piece can be effected by steeping it in some hot water, pressing it into form; being but a small portion, it will probably retain its inclination; if large enough and obstinate it must be kept bent by some means until dry, when it will show no disposition to revert back to its old form. If these particulars are all attended to with care, the piece of wood or veneer will only require a little pressure—the opening being gone over with strong glue—to retain its form in proper position. In case of failure under these conditions and the parts not holding together as they should, another course must be adopted.
It will be most likely that some grease is the cause of the non-adherence of the parts. The remedy will be that of using a little benzine on a brush and wiping or mopping out with a small piece of linen on the end of a pointed stick of soft wood, after which, when quite dry, some fresh glue must be applied, and the parts pressed together and held in position.
Ingenuity and the perception of the adaptation of means to an end will constantly be called into exercise, and at a part of the instrument such as is at present under consideration, will be often severely taxed. Want of purchase or no direct pressure being possible, or at least perceptible, will be the complaint of the operator, but this can always be overcome with a little patience.
Now supposing that a piece has come off at the upper part of the waist curve, and if narrow or the curve is sudden it will at first sight be a little puzzling as to keeping pressure on the fresh part, even if cut sharply and ready to be deftly inserted. The difficulties will be considerably lessened, if not disposed of, if we take up a portion of soft pine or poplar, cut it in a moment or two to shape, so as to very loosely fit the upper curve or part we are about to glue, and not quite reaching the lower or usually larger curve of the waist; a small piece of cork placed between the wood to be inserted and that which is to press it while in position and another piece of cork of a wedge form can be squeezed in at the other end, so as to prevent the varnish being injured and to tighten the pressure, which will not be necessarily great if the fitting is good.
Another kind of repair not unfrequently necessary, and which should not be delayed, is caused by the parting of the two ribs at the angle, in consequence often of accidental knocks and over weak glue. This is a more difficult part at which to get direct pressure than almost any part of the instrument. Many repairers would lift up the loose part or parts, both being occasionally loose, brush a little glue in, squeeze the parts together and leave them. When dry the ends will under this treatment seldom be found to meet properly as in their original condition. The best mode of repairing will be found that of proceeding by degrees, overcoming the enemy in detail. Thus firstly, we must observe whether the junction or construction of this part has been effected in the old Brescian manner—that is, the two equal parts being brought together, or according to the later method, the end of the middle rib being placed in position first, trimmed to a feather edge and the upper left thick and slightly overlapping it and afterwards trimmed into shape. In both instances the under surfaces must be cleaned and all the hard old glue softened and cleared out, if unfractured the surfaces of both corner block and rib fitting will be as originally left by the maker. In either style of construction it will be best to proceed first with the middle rib and support or prop it against the block in the way before mentioned. When quite dry we can remove the pressure and get to work at the other. After being quite sure that no hard glue or foreign particles remain between the surfaces to prevent a perfect fit as in the original condition, a small mould cut from soft wood again and of a size and shape that will fit loosely the semi-circular part must be cut, and some soft paper got ready to go between as a protection for the varnished part. If the parts are not much worn away, or the front and back plates are in fair condition, the rib may be glued and the screw cramp, cork or paper of course being used as a protector, and the rib will be held in position. If this is not sufficient for getting a close and accurate fit, the soft wood mould mentioned above must be placed, and a slight pressure gained by a wedge of wood gently inserted and pressed home. This mode of repair, it will be borne in mind, is when the upper and lower plates are in fairly good condition. Different treatment would be adopted if both were separated or the upper one taken off.
Sometimes the cramping, although sufficient for getting a good mend where there is a good extent of surface, will not be quite the thing for a small part, perhaps a slight opening at the extreme edge; in this instance a wooden mould, cut in a few minutes from a flat board large enough to allow of an oval aperture being made that will admit of the body of the violin being passed through. This being done and a small wedge being here and there judiciously inserted, will enable the operator to get enough purchase, or advantage may be taken of the juxtaposition of the cramp, and using both to gain the requisite pressure against the bend of the rib in the manner before mentioned.
There are as a matter of course extremely numerous kinds of fractures or injuries arising from almost as many different causes. If time and space permitted, they might be classified and each credited to their different agencies. Sufficient for our purpose, however, will be the separation of them into three divisions: firstly, those which may be the outcome or result of ordinary wear and giving way of parts through atmospheric influence, such as damp or excessive dryness, or both at times, in combination with varying temperature. People are apt to debit the climate of Britain with many shortcomings and the cause of much undoing of good work in the fiddle world and the prevention of its being accomplished in the concluding stages of fiddle facture.
Much of the good quality attached to Italian instruments has been attributed to the beautiful and dry air of Italy. Now that Italy has beautiful air no one can deny, that is, while not standing in the streets of some of the most interesting cities therein, but that it is dry generally is perhaps going beyond the mark; remember it is a very mountainous place with some exceptional portions, this may be easily verified by a glance over a good map of the place, or better, a tour by railway from the northern provinces down as far as Naples. Knowledge is fairly general as to mountainous districts, much more than plains, being the localities where rain is most frequent, the more or less saturation of the atmosphere following as a matter of course.
But let Italian fiddles speak for themselves, otherwise than through the medium of gut strings. The first makers of violins in Brescia used no side linings, but trusted to the most excellent quality of their glue for holding back and front to the ribs. That their trust was not misplaced in many instances is proved by the work in its primitive condition remaining intact to the present day. With the rise of the Cremonese school, delicacy in treatment of detail became fashionable; makers found that in order to give expression to their ideas in as many particulars as possible over the work, especially in respect of refinement in the curving of the ribs, less thickness of wood in these parts would have to be used, especially when of very decided curl; but this would not hold well except in the driest districts. The system was then introduced of using the thin slips of wood running from block to block; the thickness of these, although slight, added to the thin substance of the rib, allowed a better holding power to back and front.
The fact is here evident that the glue, of exceeding good quality—and that it was so will be corroborated by all repairers who have had to do with the old Italian instruments—was too easily affected by the damp of the atmosphere.
Further evidence frequently turns up among the great numbers of old Italian instruments gathered from all sorts of places, of the efforts at combating the effects of damp. Some of the means adopted by various repairers, apparently in the smaller towns—judging by the bad, even extraordinary woods used—have been very curious, many interesting, others primitive, even stupid. At about the same time the Amatis were introducing the use of side-linings, Giov. Maggini was trying other means of preventing the parting of the upper and lower tables from the ribs by damp. A method he adopted, and which many later makers imitated—if it did not occur to them spontaneously—was by cutting a groove all round and inserting the ribs. It will be obvious from this that no linings were used in these instances. That his efforts were not followed by success may be concluded from the fact that he did not persevere with the system. The simple method of his master was fallen back upon and thicker ribs placed in position. When we come across one of those grooved tables it will probably be found—as might have been anticipated by Maggini had he known beforehand of the course to be taken by his art, which was at the time almost a local one—that a repairer has at one time thought it necessary to lift the ribs from one or the other plate, and almost, of course, bungled over it. This will be seen in the irregularity of the fitting of the ribs, which have been ruthlessly cut or torn out of the groove, some portions being left in. Taking them out was found to be unprofitable work, with a general result of a wretched wreck remaining, instead of the whole original being there but shifted a little, from the glue losing its hold while perishing from the action of moisture.
THEGLUEUSED BY THEEARLYITALIANMAKERS—INSERTION OFPIECES OFWOOD FORREPAIRINGLOSTPARTS—REPLACINGLOSTRIB ANDREPAIRINGINTERIOR WITHOUTOPENING WHENPOSSIBLE—SECURINGLOOSELOWERRIB TOENDBLOCK—DIFFERENTMETHODS—TREATMENT OFWORM-HOLES—FIXING ONGRAFT ONNECK.
Here, before proceeding further, it may be as well to call attention to the kind of damage done by the atmosphere. We speak of the glue perishing. Under most circumstances this will not occur, but under exceptional ones it will. If good in the first instance, it will be perfectly sound and strong as ever at the end of three hundred years. I have found this to be so in the work of Gasparo da Salo and his pupil, Giovanni Paolo Maggini, besides other makers nearly contemporary. What particular kind of glue they used I am unable to say, possibly they did not know very much more themselves beyond what they believed was the best obtainable in their day and city. When the perishing has occurred there must have been very much moisture in the atmosphere of the locality in which the violin rested for some time, as the best glue will absorb the most moisture before losing its firmness, or power of adherence. Prolonged exposure to damp allows chemical change to take place and then all adhesive quality is lost; when dry air afterwards attacks it, the parts of the instrument that should have been held firmly together are released, with results that may be serious in degree according to the position of the part affected.
To continue the consideration of the repair of a violin that has been constructed with grooves for holding the ribs. A long and troublesome piece of work would be the loosening and taking away of the fragments of rib inserted in the groove and cut away by some repairer from the rest or standing rib; it is therefore preferable in ordinary and neat repairing to clear the parts that may be ragged or begrimed, firstly, by washing with a stiff brush of appropriate size and wiping with a clean cotton rag repeatedly; when the rag ceases to be soiled or discoloured after wiping, the parts may be taken as fairly clean. A sharp knife will take off any projections that may be prominent and prevent the proper placing of the rib in position; if the irregularities give indication of fitting well, the parts may have at their approaching edges a touching with strong, hot glue, and the cramps with protection applied as before for other joinings.
The probabilities, however, are, that through bad treatment, added to wear and tear, the parts will not fit under any circumstances, then the only course will be to make an even surface at the part broken away, and then fit a piece of fresh wood therein. If the aperture made is not of large extent and not wide, or more than the thickness of an average piece of veneer is required, then the fresh wood need not be bent, but cut neatly for fitting, and after glueing, as usual, slipped in with a part projecting beyond the surrounding surface. When quite dry it may be pared down carefully with a sharp knife, or if not manageable on the curve of the rib, a chisel of size according to the amount of room; being a narrow slip, after the colouring down and varnishing has taken place, it will be but slightly noticeable. The same treatment can, of course, be adopted for either upper or lower part of the rib; the middle rib position will give the most trouble, owing to its concavity, but care and patience will overcome the difficulties of the situation. Should there have happened an accident by which a hole of some extent is rent in the ribs—either upper, lower, or middle—it is not absolutely necessary that the instrument be opened to accomplish the repair; bear in mind the advice given before, not to open a violin which has been in good going order if the repair can be effected without.
As we are presumably working on disabled violins that are valuable, perhaps old friends, or interesting specimens of a particular school, to select the best mode of restoration is our aim. For this purpose we will call to our aid some low class violin, new or old, that is of no value except for our purpose. If several are within reach we can select one with wood that matches as near as possible the one under process of restoration. Being already bent to shape, a portion may be found somewhere about it, that with a little exercise of judgment can be cut out to shape, and as in manner pointed out before, be placed over the aperture of the fracture. Care must be taken that it quite covers the part, while being likely to fit sufficiently well as regards figure or curl and direction of grain. The sides cleanly cut should not be quite vertical with the general plane, the inner surface being a shade smaller than the outer, thus enabling the operator, with a little pressure, to insert it, when glued, quite neatly. No instructions or suggestions with regard to fitting will counterbalance clumsiness of handling. In operations of this kind, delicacy of handling equal to anything required in watch repairing will be obligatory, that is if restoration of a high class is intended.
It would be impossible to deal with, touch upon, or even to recount every possible injury to a violin that might be repaired without the removal of the upper table, but there are still some remaining that will be worth considering, if only for the purpose of restraining the tendency to open the instrument upon too trivial a pretext. One instance occurs to memory at the present moment, in which a violin, the constant companion and closest friend of its owner, met with an accident that seemed to him well-nigh total destruction, at any rate, necessitating much renewal with undoing and plastering up of fractures. To the fiddle physician it was promptly taken, carefully scanned, and the owner told that it would be all right in a few days. Will it have to be taken all to pieces? asked the anxious owner. Not if it can be possibly helped, was the reply. The violin was called for in due time, and in answer to inquiries it was fetched and seen to be in as good going order as before the time of the accident. There was no apparent evidence of damage, no sign of fracture or any neatly-laid patches, there were the ribs as sound as when new, no cracks to be seen. How did you manage that? said the owner, and you say there was no necessity to take the front off? Easier far, replied the repairer, the more there is left undisturbed the more assistance will these parts give you during the progress of restoration, and as you seem curious and desirous of solving the mystery of this renovation I will relate how it was accomplished. You are no doubt fully aware that your violin is of a size and shape well-known in the trade as a "Strad pattern;" well, there are thousands of violins in any number of degrees of quality similar in form and size, in fact, for us modern makers there are too many about. Catching the peculiarities of pattern with my eye at a glance, the difficulties to be overcome were not very numerous or great. I saw there was no reunion of parts of the ribs to be thought of, as they had gone, and your violin being a modern copy of ordinary pretensions, it would not serve our purpose to join four-fifths of new rib to the remainder, and so to make a clean and satisfactory renovation a fresh rib would best answer. Taking down from a shelf a number of loose parts of violins put aside for such occasions as the present, I soon found a middle rib that matched in most particulars those of your violin. It had the additional advantage of being better for the keeping, as regards colour or looking less new.
The first proceeding was to clear out all the useless fragments of the spoiled rib, search every corner and see that there were no splinters left, and remove projecting particles of glue. All edges that were to come in contact with the fresh rib were washed, and where permissible, the surfaces made even by a slight levelling, finely shaving them with a sharp tool. The fresh rib was then tried, and being of full size and requiring more than the least pressure to get it placed, some little shaving down here and there was found necessary, and when done it was tried again carefully and repeated perhaps three or four times, when all parts seemed to fit sufficiently well. Each time the rib was inserted there was, of course, nothing projecting whereby it might be withdrawn; to accomplish this, a bent wire of sufficient strength passed through the most distant of the two sound holes gave it a push out again. When the piece was found to fit with accuracy, little remained to do beyond glueing the edges that were to come together, and after seeing that every part was in right position, the screw cramps were applied with sufficient force and no more, the superfluous glue wiped away and the whole left to itself. When sufficient time had been allowed for drying, the cramps were removed, a little cleaning of parts effected and the fresh work varnished in a manner so as to match nearly as possible with the rest of the instrument, and there you have your violin with a fresh rib inserted without removing anything but the damaged part. It was really, as you may have perceived, the easiest way of working the thing, there being no secondary process to be gone through, nothing but cramping down, varnishing and finishing off.
Another instance comes to my mind of what can be done in the way of alteration of the interior without removing the upper table. It came within my own experience many years back, and the violin was one owned by myself at the time. It had got into a condition not unfrequently seen after bad repairing, that of the fingerboard sinking down too near the table through absence of proper support or sufficient grip of the end of the table where the neck is inserted. Being unable to attend to the matter myself at the time, I sought the aid of a friend living close by, a clever amateur violin maker and mechanical constructor of other things beside. He was not very long setting matters right, and my violin seemed in no danger of further getting into disorder from the same cause. I asked him how he had managed the rectification of the matter; did he take the upper table off? "Oh no, without that. I simply opened or loosened the left side of the table about and above the upper corner, then, having cut and glued a slight thin wedge-shaped piece of wood, through the narrow opening caused by the loosening of the table, I passed it on a thin knife long enough to reach to the upper block, between which and the part of the upper table which was not holding I carefully thrust it and tucked it in, finally glueing and cramping again the part of the table that I had purposely loosened."
This was a clever operation, successful but very risky, and not to be lightly undertaken by anyone without much experience and even natural ability for mechanical adaptation of means to an end. There was much danger, from the narrowness of the approach to the work from the side opening, of missing the mark and dropping the piece of wood with great difficulty of recovery, and, further, the chance of cracking the upper table by straining the opening for the admission of knife and wedge of wood. I heard of the violin but a few days since, and have no reason to suppose there has been occasion to have any further repairs done.
Among other mishaps occurring at times, and which from their position seem difficult to remedy, is that of the lower rib becoming detached, or losing its hold on the block; this is more liable to take place when there is a join running up and past the tail pin hole. Both sides may be loose or one only. When, as in a great many of the old Italian violins, the rib is continuous, it very seldom gets detached. Here the advantage of simplicity of construction is made evident. The rib being of one piece running round the lower end right past the tail pin was not, as too often supposed, done for a saving of time by one operation, but for strength and neatness. When in two parts, sometimes with a piece of purfling inserted—each side is subject to damage either by the tampering with the tail pin, the nut above, or during repeated removals of the upper table. Exposure to damp will, as a matter of course, affect the original glueing of these parts as soon as any other. The detachment from the block may remain unnoticed for some length of time, until getting worse by degrees one part may be seen to be lifted or warped away from the join. If without this appearance suspicion is aroused in some way as to looseness, it can be verified or not with little trouble by tapping with a felt-headed piano-hammer, when the sound, which should be quite solid, will, on the contrary, be rattling.
Seemingly the repair of this part is an awkward matter from the absence of any purchase for pressing the parts and retaining them in position when freshly glued. The difficulty is more apparent than real, as there are several ways of overcoming this obstacle. To begin with one. The tail pin will, of course, be removed; if fitting rather tightly and of good length, use may be made of it.
As usual all the parts to be glued must be cleansed by a brush and clean water, sopping up the moisture after each application, pressing repeatedly the loose parts until they seem to be clean enough. A piece of soft pine or poplar will now be cut that will be just wide enough to go easily over the parts lying over the block and which of course cover all the loose parts that require fixing: it may be a trifle under a quarter of an inch in thickness. One side must be shaped to fit the parts over the block when pressed against them and should be a sort of mould. A hole will now be pierced to admit the cylindrical part of the tail pin, or if not long enough, a made substitute with a similar rim. It should be tried by passing it through to the tail pin hole, and if it fits tight enough to sustain itself against some pulling we can proceed. The fit should be close enough so that when the peg is passed through the hole in the mould and the latter pressed by this means against the rib or the two parts on to the block, all should be held firmly in position. Taking them apart again, strong glue should be applied by a brush to the surfaces that will meet or be worked in as when the cleansing was going on. The peg and the mould—with a piece of paper on its face to prevent adhesion—may then be pressed in to hold tight until hard and dry. The same method may be pursued with the exception that in place of the peg a screw—if one is to hand large enough—may be inserted. In this case it should be a very loose fit to the hole, the grip will be obtained by rolling up a piece of paper and inserting it in the tail pin hole, the screw can then be used against this inside without damaging the block.
Another way of accomplishing the desired result will be by a stout leather strap and buckle passed round over all the ribs of the instrument; the same sort of mould will be used and applied in the same manner. The strap will need holding in position at the upper or neck end over the button, a string over the fingerboard will be sufficient; at the other end over the mould a wedge of soft wood according to size will enable the pressure towards the block to be regulated. Another contrivance with the same mould, for this must always be used, is by getting a wire with a turned or screwed end fitted with a head or nut, the other end can be bent to right angles, but not too much length used or it will not go through the tail pin hole. When in position, having been passed through the hole in the mould, the right angled or bent end will catch against the inner surface of the block, the head or nut being then screwed round will tighten and press the mould towards the block with enough grip for the purpose if all the rest is in proper order.
Should these contrivances not be to hand or are found inconvenient, yet another method is that of using the screw-cramp. A portion of mill-board or cork being placed to protect the parts of the upper and lower table between which the end block is situated, the screw can be turned tight enough to allow of a wedge of wood being inserted between the back of the cramp and the mould without risk of shifting; it can then be left until dry and hard.
Occasionally there will be not only the detachment from the block, but there will be the accompaniment of a split in the rib. There will be in this instance a preliminary cleansing of the split and joining together before proceeding with the other part. The reason for doing this is that the pressure on towards the block is apt to widen instead of closing the crack. The most usual way of mending a crack, or there may be more than one, is by the use of a small hand vice. A piece of stout card placed between the teeth of the vice to prevent an imprint, the part to be joined will, after cleaning and glueing, be brought closely as possible together and the vice screwed up. For this process the help of another person will be almost absolutely necessary, as two hands will be required for holding the parts together while the second person holds the vice and turns the screw to order. When dry and unscrewed the parts joined will require a little scraping of the superfluous glue, washing away at a thin part as this is would be dangerous; if brought together neatly the rib can then be pressed on the block in the manner before explained.
The same process will be gone through when a portion of fresh rib has to be inserted at this part, owing to loss of a piece through violence or the ravages of the worm. In the latter case searching inquiry should be made with a pointed wire or pin and the direction of the boring operations ascertained, as it may be necessary to insert a larger piece than was originally intended to avoid a large smash or general collapse at the part where the greatest strength should be. There is often too great a tendency shown in repairing, especially in preparation for the market, as, for instance, when an old master has been unearthed in some farmhouse or out of the way place on the Continent, to make a clean sweep of a somewhat riddled part, the repairer trusting too much to his imitative powers on new wood with new varnish, and we may say with new ideas on old facts; it is seldom that the result is far from hideous. Better trace the tortuous course of a whole family of worms and fill up with a cement or plugging than, as is too often the case, cut a huge slice away, for if so the instrument according to the extent begins to assume a composite character, it may be ten out of twelve parts gem of an old master and two parts modern trash, hateful to the eye of the connoisseur.
While touching upon the subject of worm-holes, a few words more may not be out of place when contemplating the ravages of these voracious creatures. Almost all devotees to the "gentle art" of fiddling have a great horror of the possible presence or the ungauged depths of the mysterious tunnellings the entrance or exit to which will cause a start of dismay in a searcher after the beautiful, when, in an otherwise perfectly preserved specimen of art by one of the giants of old, his eye alights upon that sharply defined circular hole, cut with no uncertainty of purpose, but with a ruinous intent, for it is business with the boring party to consume the whole, if possible, at its leisure and in quietude. This last is an important item in the consideration of the circumstances under which the "gem of art, old master, Cremona, real Strad," or whatever title the wooden structure may have been sailing under. Those who have suffered much from the Italian fiddle-hunting mania—a condition mostly chronic or quite incurable—but who may have kept their "considerating cap" well poised on their head, will know that the worm-eaten fiddles are often devoid of evidence of usage, sometimes even in the absolute sense of the term.
Such a one we may suppose before us now; after lying neglected for generations, or since the time when it was bought by one of our periwigged ancestors from the maker, perhaps after a little haggling about the price, which most likely was one hundredth part of its commercial value at present. It was placed many years since in its present comfortable case, after being taken out of the old ragged leather covered one, with the brass nails along its side. Tradition has it that in long bye-gone days it used to hang suspended from a nail in the oak panelling of the "old house at home," but that during a more recent generation and less musical one, it was placed aside in the old case, as being somewhat interesting from having been brought over to England from some place in Italy during the reign of James II. Later on it was taken from this old case, and placed in one of modern construction, and occasionally was taken out for musical people to see, some of whom expressed their admiration for its elegant form, others for the singular transparency of its varnish. None had come forward with the request to hear what it had to say for itself or what its tone was. But the day came round at last when someone more inquisitive than usual, by nature as well as by training, having inquired as to the possibility of seeing the antiquity, was afforded the rare opportunity and treat of seeing a perfectly preserved Cremona, nearly as possible untouched; the connoisseur was informed that no one had been known to have played upon it. The case is brought forward and opened, the violin, with perhaps one very brown string dangling from it, is taken gently up, the left hand encircling the neck, while the forefingers and thumb of the right, hold the lower part near the tail-piece.
The violin is turned first one way, then the other, and sideways for viewing the ribs and the beautiful play of light through the varnish, the fine curl of the maple with the slightest movement, almost giving an impression of hastily shifting from one row to another, in fact, looking as if the wood were gifted with life. Steadily turning it about, the connoisseur at last breaks out with the exclamation, this is the most wonderful thing I have met with in my life, it is almost perfect, practically new, looks, perhaps, but a dozen years old. What a beautiful design, what colour, and splendid wood, both the pine and maple, the workmanship, too, having that wonderful freedom of handling which moderns find so impassable a barrier to success with their "imitations of the antique!" Lost in admiration for some minutes, the connoisseur's critical faculties after a while begin to assert themselves, and he is on the look out for flaws or defects that may mar the completeness of the whole; it might be a little more this or that with advantage, not quite so fine in one respect, although perhaps better in another than the one owned by his friend Smith; but oh! a wormhole! that settles it, done for! perhaps the thing is riddled, or even "honeycombed" in parts. The delight at finding a work of art in apparently so perfect condition is succeeded by a more than counterbalancing sense of frustrated hopes, schemes for acquisition of the gem being dissipated at once by that small circular opening just at the under part of the edging there near the corner. Our friend takes his departure, but cannot help talking of the "find" to the dealer and repairer of whom he purchases his strings. This person takes another view of the affair, and resolves to see the thing and perhaps acquire possession, so that like his customer, he gets permission to inspect the violin. It is brought out as in the other instance and he turns it about, gives it a sly pinch here and there, looks for any light coloured dust or powder inside and does not see any, a shake or two with the same result. The subject of parting with the instrument at a fair price is at length broached to the owner, who would like to know what Mr. —— would be prepared to give for it, but this party means business and not valuation gratis for the owner; he therefore dilates upon the difficulties attending the keeping of a large stock of such articles, besides the thing having been bored so much by worms can never take its place again among prominent examples of the maker, and it would want a lot of playing upon even if possibly well restored. Mr. —— finally departs as owner of a finely preserved Cremona violin, not exactly for a "mere song," but a few judiciously selected sentences and fewer pounds. Out of the house his steps are lighter and swifter as he gets nearer his premises. When arrived he takes it to the repairing room; removing it from the case he again examines it, and with a smile says to his chief repairing help—here, what d'ye think of that? This workman, who has not studied as an enthusiastic connoisseur during the many years of his working on the premises, takes it up, looks it well over, and then observes—"well, at first I thought it was a good modern copy, but now if I don't think it's a real one! Well, I never! it is, too! look at that stuff all over it." This was his manner of criticising varnish when it seemed to him of good quality. "I would like to have some of that! a worm-hole though. Don't know how far that goes." "We'll soon see," says the other. After a few turns over again amidst remarks of admiration expressed in different ways, the fiddle is brought into a good light and preparations made for opening it. "Why, I don't think it's ever been opened before," says one. "Certainly not," says the other. "Now," says the dealer, "you had better do it," and the workman proceeds thus—first removing the tailpiece and with a "post setter" lifting the sound post out carefully through the right sound hole, he removes the tail pin, and holding the instrument to let as much light as possible into the interior, looks through the pin hole and observes—"No patch in this, Mr. ——, fresh as a new-laid egg—original bar too,—however, let's go ahead." The fiddle is then laid face downwards on a cushion or soft pad and held in position with the extended palm of the hand. The operator then takes what has been once in use as a table knife, but is now thin and smooth with wear, keeping the left hand firmly in position and the knife in the other, he casts his eye round for any portion that may seem looser or more lightly glued than the rest. It has been very neatly done however, and one part seems as good as another. "Stop a moment," says his companion, "let's have another look inside, maybe we shall see how the worms have been going about by the light passing through."
It is taken again to a window; the sun fortunately is streaming in and so enables master and man to proceed under favourable conditions. The dealer patiently turns the violin about so that the rays of the sun may penetrate wherever possible through the material; after a while he hands the violin to his workman—"you have a look, James, I cannot see any traces—I don't think the worm has gone very far, seemingly only a short distance from the opening." James looking again, and coming to the same conclusion, the violin is again taken to the operating table and the knife taken in hand.