Backstage afterward, I introduced myself and told him how good he sounded. Naturally, I asked him what kind of fiddle he was playing. “It’s about a hundred years old,” the violinist said. “It belonged to my grandfather. It was made in Romania.” He mentioned the maker’s name, but I didn’t recognize it.
As he wiped off the violin and placed it in the case, the violinist said to me, “I like to think that this fiddle has a gypsy soul.”
After all I’d seen and heard in this strange and magical world of violins, I wasn’t going to argue with him.
The bulk of what is presented here is based on many hours with Sam Zygmuntowicz in his workshop, taking notes, or, more often, running a tape recorder as he described what he was doing and the principles behind it. The result was hundreds of pages of transcripts from which I drew much of the narration. I did the same in my more limited time with Gene Drucker. In keeping with standard journalistic practice, neither Sam nor Gene was given any prior review or approval of the text.
I also drew from articles by Zygmuntowicz and about him in the main journals of the trade. They included various issues of
The Journal of the Violin Society of America
,
The Strad
, and
Strings
. Those three journals were also helpful in informing me about various other subjects in the book as well as giving me a continuing understanding of issues in the world of fiddles.
The first book that caught my attention was Edward Heron-Allen’s
Violin-Making as it was, and is,
and I find myself returning to it often because it is so strange and charming. Sam Zygmuntowicz told me that when he reads Heron-Allen now, the eccentric Englishman seems even more astute.
James Beament’s
The Violin Explained: Components, Mechanism and Sound
really became my “go-to” source. It is a tad technical, but Beament’s scientific skepticism, combined with his intimacy with the subject—he plays the bass fiddle and is married to a violin maker—makes for a clear-eyed analysis of how violins, old and new, function on the player and listener.
The Hills’ survey of Stradivari was invaluable.
Antonio Stradivari: His Life and Work (1644–1737)
has stayed in print so long for obvious reasons. I also used the Hills’ subsequent
The Violin-Makers of the Guarneri Family (1626–1762).
Simone Sacconi’s
‘Secrets’ of Stradivari
is likewise indispensable for understanding Stradivari’s work. And, for my purposes, it gave great insight into Sacconi himself. That understanding was buttressed by a collection of reminiscences of Sacconi published in 1985 by the Cremonese Association of Professional Violin Makers, titled,
From Violin Making to Music: The Life and Works of Simone Fernando Sacconi
.
A more circumscribed look at Stradivari’s work—
Stradivari’s Genius: Five Violins, One Cello, and Three Centuries of Enduring Perfection
—was written recently by Toby Faber and was quite helpful. An entertaining look at one Stradivari instrument and its restoration by Sam’s former boss, René Morel, is Nicholas Delbanco’s 2001 book
The Countess of Stanlein Restored: A History of the Countess of Stanlein Ex Pananini Stradivarius Cello of 1707.
Several more general looks at the violin and its world were very helpful. The most readable is one from the early 1970s by Joseph Wechsberg called
The Glory of the Violin.
More academic in tone, but no less helpful, were Alberto Bachmann’s
An Encyclopedia of the Violin
, first published in 1925, but still available; and
The Violin Family
(various authors) from the New Grove Musical Instrument Series.
Several fictional works based on real people from the world of violin making were both entertaining and source material. William Alexander Silverman’s
The Violin Hunter
is one; John Hersey’s
Antonietta
is the other. And anyone interested in fiddles should try to see the movie
The Red Violin
. I’ve watched it half a dozen times and, while working on this book, told questioners many dozens of times that, no, I was not writing a book like
The Red Violin
.
If one were to be inspired to try making a violin at home, then Joseph V. Reid’s
You Can Make a Stradivarius Violin
would be a decent place to start, though I can assure you that it’s not as easy as he makes it seem.
Gene Drucker’s recording of J. S. Bach’s unaccompanied sonatas and partitas for violin has been reissued by Parnassas Records. I referred to enclosed liner notes written mostly by Drucker. I also used
The New Bach Reader: A Life of Johann Sebastian Bach in Letters and Documents
.
The recordings by the Emerson Quartet on Deutsche Grammophon are extensive, and all are worth listening to. Those I used most were
Mendelssohn: The Complete String Quartets
(2005), which includes a documentary video on the recording of the Octet;
Bach: The Art of the Fugue
(2003);
Beethoven: The Late Quartets.
THE MAIN PARTS OF A VIOLIN:
Back.
The underside of the
sound box
, usually made of maple, sometimes one piece, but most often two pieces joined lengthways. The back is slightly arched, and the pattern of the wood is a main visual feature of the fiddle.
Bass-bar.
A carefully carved rod of spruce that is glued to the inside of the violin
top
, on the bass side of the
bridge
.
Belly.
(also Front or Top) The upper side of the
sound box
. It is almost always made of spruce in one, or two, joined pieces, arched and carefully graduated in thickness. Two
f-holes
are cut into it.
Block.
Carved pieces of softwood—often spruce or willow—glued inside the
sound box
to support the
ribs
and hold them in place.
Bridge.
An elaborately carved, thin piece of wood with two feet that rest on the belly and four small slots on top that hold the strings, whose tension keeps the bridge in place.
F-holes.
Two holes cut into the violin belly on either side of the bridge in the shape of cursive Fs. They allow air carrying the violin’s sound to escape from the
sound box
.
Fingerboard.
A long piece of ebony that is attached to the
neck
, running most of the length of the strings. It supplies a surface against which the violinist’s fingers can press the strings to change pitch.
Neck
. A carved piece, usually maple, attached at its bottom to the violin
sound box
and at its top holding the
pegbox
for string tuning and the decorative
scroll
.
Pegbox.
A small carved wooden box at the top of the neck, into which are inserted four pegs that hold one end of the strings and allow for tuning the instrument.
Purfling.
A narrow inlaid band of three wood strips—the outer two dark and the inner light—that runs just inside the border edge of the belly and back. It is decorative but also serves to protect the edges and control cracks.
Ribs.
Usually six strips of thin maple that form the curving sides of the
sound box
, connecting the belly and back.
Scroll.
The ornamental carved piece at the top of the neck, traditionally done in a nautilus-like spiral.
Sound box.
The resonant chamber formed by the belly, back, and ribs.
Sound post.
A rod of wood, usually spruce, that is wedged into the
sound box
, under one foot of the bridge. Its function is to transfer vibration from the belly to the back, and its minute movement—called an adjustment—can significantly change the sound of the fiddle and its feel to the violinist.
A musician and award-winning journalist,
J
OHN
M
ARCHESE
is the author of
Renovations: A Father and Son Rebuild a House and Rediscover Each Other
. He lives in New York City and in New York’s Catskill Mountain region.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
“An impassioned account…shows what magic is secretly being practiced behind many nondescript doors.”
—
New York Times
“Marchese is engaging and funny, and he uses his substantial skill to tell a story worthy of his subjects. They, in turn, are generous collaborators, allowing us a close look at the passion that drives their lives. As a reader, I’m satisfied. I’ve moved through a world of acoustic geeks and passionate artists, and I emerge feeling smarter and pleased to have been treated to a story so well told.”
—
Newsweek
“A deeply descriptive and appreciative look at a slow, exacting craft. Marchese is a skilled writer.”
—
USA Today
“This story of a gifted craftsman and a demanding client strikes a high note, with rich overtones on the themes of art, creation, and the power of music.
—
Entertainment Weekly
“A beguiling journalistic meditation on the links—and tensions—between art, craft, and connoisseurship.”
—
Publishers Weekly
“You don’t have to be a fiddler or a musician to enjoy this small gem of a book. If you have even a modicum of interest in extraordinary human abilities, you are in for a fine, informative read.”
—
Santa Fe New Mexican
“In an increasingly plastic and automated world,
The Violin Maker
shows that function and beauty must still flow from the hands of a man. Well researched…. The lasting feeling left by
The Violin Maker
is an appreciation for the ability and dedication of a man working with his hands.”
—
Hartford Courant
“An edifying adventure from hewn log to work of art. Readers will be as eager as the author and the luthier to know if it satisfied the violinist. On-pitch reporting documents an inspiring craft.”
—
Kirkus Reviews
“Honest, witty, and dramatic. Marchese writes with genuine fascination. The results are provocative yet highly sympathetic. A thoroughly gripping read.”
—
Strad
“Informative. Insights [into] why classical music’s most analyzed instrument retains so many mysteries.”
—
San Diego Union-Tribune
“Entertaining…. [Marchese] shows a talent for engaging turns of phrase, and his accessible style and dry humor commingle well.”
—
Library Journal
“In exploring the relationships to one another of Antonio Stradivari of Cremona, Sam Zygmuntowicz of Brooklyn, Eugene Drucker of Manhattan, and a violin made of spruce and maple, Marchese corrals the acoustics and technology of violin building, the love of violin making, and the history of seventeenth-century Italian violins into one book. Like
The Piano Shop on the Left Bank
, this exploration of the lore of musical instrument manufacture is easy, entertaining, and uniquely informative reading.”
—
Booklist
“A fascinating and engaging story about musicianship as well as the art of the violin maker. This book is a treat.”
—
Decatur Daily
“In our flimflam, fast-food world of convenience, it’s exhilarating to learn that the old-timey craft of violin making still exists in Brooklyn. John Marchese, one of our best literary journalists, explores the life of colorful Sam Zygmuntowicz, a retro perfectionist with the delicate artistic fingers of Antonio Stradivari.
The Violin Maker
is a magical, profound, and elegant look at the continued need for high quality in our throwaway society.”
—Dr. Douglas Brinkley, professor of history at Rice University and author of
The Great Deluge
“Nobly upholding and carrying forth the tradition of John McPhee and Tracy Kidder, John Marchese chronicles the extreme craftsmanship and sharp-edged personality of a world-class craftsman. Between the lines, he wittily deconstructs the capacious lore of violin making, from Stradivari to the twenty-first century. Readable and engaging from the downbeat to the coda.”
—Ben Yagoda, author of
About Town:
The New Yorker
and the World It Made
and
When You Catch an Adjective, Kill It:
The Parts of Speech, for Better and/or Worse
RENOVATIONS: A FATHER AND SON
REBUILD A HOUSE AND
REDISCOVER EACH OTHER
Illustration by Sam Zygmuntowicz
Cover design by Robin Bilardello
THE VIOLIN MAKER
. Copyright © 2007 by John Marchese. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition October 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-185057-8
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