Ole Bull Part 24

Pomet: Histoire Generale des Drogues; Paris, 1694 (reprinted, 1736).

Buonanni, Phillipe: Traite des Vernis; Rome, 1713.

Here is a succession of treatises, the earliest written about the time of Gaspar da Salo, and the latest during that of Stradivarius. Here are hundreds of genuine receipts. Is any one of them the right one? Patience and perseverance are necessary, much fitting of old names to their new nomenclatures, and many tiresome comparisons. But these once made, the desired result may be obtained, and the new varnish may possess the old coveted l.u.s.trous softness and suppleness. And the colors? the brown, the red, and the yellow?-hidden under quaint and obsolete names, they are all indicated by one and another of these authors, and all are soluble in the one vehicle, forming a colored oil varnish, clear and transparent, which, however long kept, will let fall no sediment.

There is still another branch of this subject which has never, or very rarely, been specified, and this is the _groundtoning_. In all Italian instruments the wood appears to be permeated with a color varying in intensity from pale yellow to almost orange. This color is quite distinct from that of the varnish; for, however faded by exposure and other causes the latter may be, the groundtone almost always retains its color. The violins with red varnish afford the finest examples of this groundtoning. On such, its tawny yellow is the most intense, and offers a splendid foil to the superimposed color, toning and giving life to it. How it was composed or applied, whether as a wash or stain, or as a distinct varnish, none of the authors give any information. But from their miscellaneous lists of the drugs, dyestuffs, and coloring matters common to the Italian markets, it is quite possible that a selection could be made which would fulfill all the required conditions of color and stability.

But though supplied with the groundtone, another element is needed before the exact reflex of the Italian varnish can be reproduced; and that is the natural color of the old wood.

The problem of the old varnish is solvable by any one who deems the reward worth the trial of patience and perseverance, two elements most effective in the task of interlining the broken sentences of tradition.

PAGANINI.

No one can thoroughly understand Paganini without an educated appreciation of melody and the art of giving life and expression to it.

Without a knowledge of the Italian art of singing, it is impossible to properly appreciate his playing. Contemporary with Pasta, Pizzaroni, Rubini, Malibran, Paganini rivaled them, singing on his violin melodies, many of which had been sung by those artists, and astonis.h.i.+ng even _them_ more than the public. In fact, his style was so original, and the means by which he produced his stirring effects was so varied and so unexpected, his music so filled with ever new episodes of startling beauty or original quaintness, that the violinists of the day stood confounded.

Half the conceited virtuosos would not condescend to study the mysteries of the violin and the soul of melody, or his principles of fingering and manifold colors of tone and expression, but called all they could not comprehend and themselves execute "tricks" and "playing for the mult.i.tude." Nothing has been produced equaling his twentyfour "Studies," either in beauty, originality, or difficulty of performance.

They stand unrivaled. Liszt has arranged many of them for the piano in a most masterly manner. He became so inspired on hearing Paganini, that he composed a fantasia on the main theme of his "Rondo Campanella." In his obituary notice of Paganini, published in Paris, he places him above all virtuosos. As some of Paganini's pieces required the violin to be tuned higher than the normal pitch, it was necessary that his strings should be thinner than ordinary to endure the increased strain and give a free vibration. Tuned in this way, for some effects they possessed a peculiar timbre and farreaching tone, particularly the G string, which, for some occasions, he tuned up to C natural. The violinists of that day used thick strings. They seemed to consider the greatness and variety of the tone to be a result of sheer muscular force, and thus loaded the string with a weight which r.e.t.a.r.ded its vibration. The heavy strings certainly gave a louder tone, but it was much more gross, and, besides, required such effort that often the disagreeable friction of the bow could be distinguished mixed with the tone. The humidity and heat of the concertroom often caused the E string to break in the midst of a performance. After Paganini had been heard, the adoption of thinner strings became general.

Paganini's style of bowing and producing the tone was founded on Tartini's exquisite method. He held his upper arm close to his body, using mainly his lower arm for the bow stroke, keeping the wrist extremely flexible. From his peculiar build he could cross his elbows readily. The elbow of his left arm he brought very much to the right in playing. This singular flexibility greatly a.s.sisted him in his incredible flights, and made easy for him pa.s.sages impossible for another. His hand was rather small and thin, and the little finger peculiarly long. The strings of his violin were rather high from the fingerboard; this enabled him to give forte pa.s.sages with great effect, and without the rattling and false vibration always accompanying force when applied to strings close to the fingerboard. Owing to his narrow chest and peculiar way of holding the violin, it was easy for him to reach the upper notes. He manipulated the strings at the upper end of the fingerboard as easily as other violinists could in the first position. His bow was made after the old Italian style, of a somewhat later shape than that of Tartini's. When strained to the proper tension, the stick was nearly straight. Vuillaume, when he saw this bow, laughed and inquired who could play with such a thing. When Paganini brought it to him to be repaired (he had broken the upper end), Vuillaume offered to make him another, but he was much displeased with the idea, and most decidedly declined the gift, saying he could not think of using any other bow. Paganini especially excelled in giving life to the simplest melodies, in giving to his tone the quality of the human voice; in contrasts of light and shade, and expression, now plaintive, now brilliant and gay, now fantastic. He was unequaled in producing pizzicatos with the left hand, arpeggio pa.s.sages, the tremolo, and the gettato. He was the first to establish the rules of artificial harmonic playing, and his numerous pa.s.sages in single and double harmonics attest the wonderful skill with which he applied them.

In his time it was demanded of artists that they should not only play the compositions of the masters with elegance and n.o.bility of style, but also should be equal to any emergency and ready to improvise embellishments and harmonious variations. Before Rossini no composer wrote out the cadenzas, rather leaving them to the talent of the artist.

The report, circulated in Vienna, that he was a mere charlatan, preceded Paganini's first appearance in that city. So unfavorable an impression had been formed of him that his first concert was but poorly attended.

But at the end of the first part, the impression he made upon his few listeners was so great that several of the musicians in the audience ran out into the coffeehouses and hotels, exclaiming enthusiastically that he was a perfect marvel, and that all must come to hear him. The result was that at the performance of the second part the house was nearly full. Afterwards, partly from wonder, and partly from jealousy, all sorts of stories were told about him. It was said that when his mother died, he made her breathe her last breath into his violin; that he was a culprit who had spent years in imprisonment with only his violin for a companion; that he had gradually worn out all the strings but the G, hence his wonderful skill in playing anything on that one string. It seemed of little avail that he procured and published official testimonials from his native town to the effect that he had never been in prison. Nor did he put an end to the story of his mother's death, by publis.h.i.+ng a letter from her, showing that she was still living.

At a soiree given by Troupenas, the music publisher, in Paris, in 1830, Paganini gave one of the most wonderful exhibitions of his skill.

Rossini, Tamburini, Lablache, Rubini, De Beriot, and Malibran were of the party. Malibran, after singing one of her spirited arias, challenged Paganini, who said "Madam, how could I dare, with all the advantages you possess in beauty and your incomparable voice, take up your glove?" His declining was of no avail; the whole company, aware that such an opportunity might never occur again, urged him most strongly, and finally persuaded him to send for his violin. After an introduction, in which gleamed now and then the motive of Malibran's song, he gave the whole melody with additional _fiorituras_, so that the audience, amazed and overwhelmed, could not help confessing that he was the master. I heard this from several of the persons who were present, and Malibran herself was the most emphatic of all in proclaiming him the victor.

Paganini's last Parisian concert occurred in the year 1832, at the Grand Opera. He played three pieces. Habeneck, professor of music at the Conservatoire, on this occasion wielded the baton. He had been instrumental in introducing the symphonies of Beethoven for the first time, in opposition to the opinions of the other professors of the Conservatoire. The orchestra was composed of the professors, and such pupils as had taken the first prize; it was justly regarded as the finest orchestra in Europe. Habeneck wished to introduce Beethoven, but had hitherto failed in exciting an appreciation for his mighty works.

Finally he hit upon a strategem. It was his birthday, and he invited the members of the orchestra to a collation to be given in the concerthall of the Conservatoire, and he begged them to bring their instruments.

When his health was proposed, he suggested in response that, if they really wished to give him great joy, they would consent to play the "Allegro in C minor" from the first symphony of Beethoven. He explained to them beforehand how he would have them handle the princ.i.p.al motive.

Of course all agreed. He knew his success from the manner in which they struck the first chords. Exclamations of admiration followed the close of the Allegro, and the concluding movement of the symphony was played with enthusiasm to the end. Now they requested that the symphony should be played at the next concert, and after twenty rehearsals it was given with immense success. Such was the man who conducted on this occasion.

He was a leader of great ability, and the players, the majority of them graduates of the Conservatoire, were entirely under his command.

Paganini played, as far as I can remember, his "Concerto in B minor,"

with the "Rondo Campanella," also two variations of Haydn's famous "Austrian National Hymn," and concluded with his "Moto Perpetuo." The public were accustomed to applaud (I have the whole scene before me as if it were today) when he appeared at the side. When his shadow was seen approaching, the audience applauded as usual, but to their astonishment Paganini did not appear, but instead a man in black, with a musicstand, which he placed on the stage near the conductor. Again a shadow was seen on the wall, and again the applause sounded. A man appeared clad in livery; he bore two candles, which he placed on the stand and lighted. He disappeared, amid the laughter of the audience.

Then came the first fellow in black, this time with a ma.n.u.script in his hand. The house behaved as before, evidently confusing the black fellow.

Finally came another shadow, and this time it was Paganini, but the applause was now withheld, and he was not recognized until he came forward to the footlights. There he made a forced salutation, accompanied with a contraction of the facial muscles, seeming much puzzled at his silent reception. He had been in another room, and knew nothing of the ludicrous scene which had preceded his appearance.

Immediately Habeneck raised his baton, as if to give his order to the orchestra, but Paganini shook his head. He took his bow in his left hand together with his violin, and thrust his right into the recesses of the pockets of his swallowtailed coat, and brought out a pair of darkgreen gloves, which he transferred to his left hand. He shook his head again, and, after a deeper plunge, produced a large white handkerchief, which he also placed in his left hand, accompanying the action with an audible expression of dissatisfaction. A still deeper thrust revealed a brown box, which he regarded with a nod and a smile, and added to the other things in his left hand. He now went through the same deliberate motions in pa.s.sing the handkerchief and gloves back to his pocket. He then opened the box and took out a pair of spectacles, meditated a moment, apparently considering the next move, and finally, taking the bow in his right hand, and bending a little, put the spectacles on and looked about in a complacent manner. But how changed he was! The gla.s.ses were dark blue, giving a ghastly appearance to his emaciated face; they looked like two large holes in his countenance. Raising his foot and bringing it down promptly, he gave the signal to begin. It had been announced as his last concert in Paris for the season, and a true foreboding seemed to thrill through his listeners that they would not again see that lank, angular figure, with its haggard face, or hear again the wondrous witchery of his violin.

NOTE.-(Page 363). The oblique position of the bar has not been generally adopted. The bar is ordinarily placed with its outer side on a line parallel to the centre line or gluejoint of the top, and at a distance from it about equal to one half the width of the bridge, measured from the outer extremities of the feet. A slight spring is given to the ends of the bar, so that when glued to the top it produces an upward pressure at the centre, under the foot of the bridge. This pressure should equal the downward thrust of the bridge, the force of which will depend upon the angle of the strings over its top. Practice soon discovers a certain modic.u.m of spring which agrees fairly with a certain height of bridge.

An entirely successful result is not always insured, but a positive failure is avoided. But in the case of the oblique bar, no such common factor can be found to fit all cases even averagely well. Each instrument presents its own particular problem. The spring at each end must be accurately determined by mechanical means, which will take into account both the resistance of the top, due to its comparative strength of fibre, and the resistance due to the form of modeling. The same degree of obliquity, and position relative to the foot of the bridge which it supports, will not answer equally well in all cases. But when the required conditions are fulfilled, the oblique bar does, beyond doubt, very greatly increase the depth and volume of tone, particularly of the lower strings. Mr. Bull spent many years in endeavoring to formulate the rules which govern this most perplexing part of the organism of the violin. His observations and experiments demonstrated to him the correctness of the oblique position; and though, as was his wont, he frankly owned to more failures than one, his instances of success, ill.u.s.trated by his Da Salo and many other instruments, bore most convincing witness to the truth of his theory.

WALTER E. COLTON.

Ole Bull, in the last interview which he had with Mr. Colton, said to him: "You have the tools, the knowledge, and the time for this work, and you will be able to give at last a rule by which less skilled workmen may be guided in the placing of the oblique bar." After Mr. Colton had sent the above note, a query addressed to him brought the following response, which it is hoped he will pardon us for printing, as it gives just what ought to be known in order to save violins from being injured in the hands of ordinary workmen claiming to understand the principle of the oblique bar:-

The second attempt in placing the bar would be, in the hands of the ordinary repairer, nearly as much of an experiment as the first. In the first place, he lacks the apparatus for determining the spring. In regard to the position relative to the foot of the bridge and degree of obliquity, these appear to be governed by the height of the top and thickness of material. The higher the top, the more the obliquity; the thicker the top, the more the bar can be removed from under the foot of the bridge. I presume I have placed a hundred bars, and have used up many cheap violins in trying to arrive at something like a governing principle, and even now the first attempt may not be all I could wish.

Mr. Bull, aided by his own experience, and by some marvelous intuition, compared to which the knowledge of the average repairer is mere clodhopperism, appeared to be able to determine the requirements of an instrument submitted to him. One reason why I did not speak more strongly in favor of the general adoption of the oblique position was because, apart from the spring, the ratio of which and means of determining it I believe I have settled, I could not lay down a positive and definite rule regarding the place and degree of obliquity which would apply to all cases. So I did not like to advocate on my own account, or by inference, that of Mr. Bull, the immediate advisability of an operation the result of which might be in any way doubtful. When I think of the horror with which the connoisseur contemplates even the idea of removing the top of his valued instrument, I feel that, beyond sticking stoutly to the truth of Mr. Bull's theory, I am not in a condition to competently advise.

Mr. Bull's second attempts were almost always successful. I honestly think I should not fail more than once. But if I say this, I am calling attention to my own work, Mr. Bull having pa.s.sed away, when it belongs to him.

WALTER E. COLTON.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE CHINREST.-This particular form of chinrest was an entirely original invention of Mr. Bull. It prevents all unavoidable contact of the violin with the body, and at the same time is itself attached to a point of minimum vibration, the tailpin block. Its use shows perfectly the deadening effect of the pressure of the chin upon the top over the end of the bar, and upon the tailpiece, and also that of the chest and shoulder upon the back. In the original form, the chinrest and tailpin were one. A small rib should run along the tailpin, and an appropriate slot should be cut in the hole for its reception. This prevents any possibility of the chinrest's turning upon the pin while playing. Mr.

Bull designed separating the pin and rest by making the former with a square instead of round head, and fitting the latter over it, a screw with a wide flat head and leather washer securing the two parts. In this way the rest could be removed without the disagreeable necessity of unstringing the violin. Each rest ought to be specially made for the violin it is to be applied to. This, and the necessity of some enlargement of the violincase, are the two possible drawbacks to its general manufacture.

WALTER E. COLTON.

POEMS AND PERSONAL TRIBUTES.

TIL OLE BULL.

J. S. WELHAVEN.[31]

[31] See page 104 above.

Hvor sodt at favnes af Aftnens Fred, Naar Droslen flojter i Skoven, Og Birken suser ved Elvens Bred, Og Nokken spiller i Voven, Der er en vemodblandet Fryd, Som Nordens Alfer male, Med daempet Kvad, med Harpe lyd, Med Suk i dunkle Dale.

Han stod og lytted en Sommerkveld Og havde stemt sine Strenge, Da gik Akkorden fra Skov og Fjeld Og over duggede Enge; Og alle Strenge klang dertil Med underbare Toner, Som Droslens Kluk og Nokkens Spil, Og Suk af Birkekroner.

Og al den Smerte, al den Lyst, Der bor i Nordens Sone, Har lagt sig drommende til hans Bryst Og sittret gjennem hans Tone.

O, hor den stille Melodi, Der daemper Stormens Harme; Din Barndom vugger sig deri Paa omme Liljearme.

Det er den dejligste Strengeklang, Der letter Laengselens Vinger; Da nynner Hjertet sin egen Sang, Mens Strengen baever og klinger.

Der er ej Savn, Der er ej Nag, Som ej hans Streng kan lindre; Han vaekker med sit Trylleslag En Vaardag i dit Indre.

O hil dig, salige Toneskald Med Guddomsmagt i din Bue!

Fra dig gaar Jubelens Fossefald, Du taender Andagtens Lue.

Naar Verden lytter til dit Kvad Og baever ved din Vaelde, Da skjaelver Glemmigejens Blad Af Fryd paa dine Fjelde.

[TRANSLATION.]

TO OLE BULL.

How sweet is the quiet of eventide When the throstle his love betrayeth, And the birches sing by the riverside, While the elf in the ripples playeth!

Their benison the North hills send, A chastened peace revealing; With tender voices harptones blend, Their sighs through dark vales stealing.

In a summer eve he listening stood, His strings all tuned together, While music burst from field and wood Across the dewy heather.

Then all his strings the gift repay, With a wondrous echo ringing.