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THE CRAFT OF THE CONNOISSEURWhat makes a violin connoisseur? And how difficult is it to get in onthe trade? In the first half of our two-part guide, ROGER HARGRAVE

investigates the history of the art

FOR MOST PROSPECTIVE CONNOISSEURS,THE struggle they experience learning thecraft of expertise probably has more to dowith knowing how and what they must learnthan it does with any innate lack of ability.Violin identification is a skill that can belearnt, and with a little application, violinsof any school can be described, comparedand identified with some degree of success.

As with all objects of art and antiquity, thecraft of violin expertise is essentially a visualone. Even the latest scientific weapons ofanalysis, such as dendrochronology, gaschromatography, high-definition photogra-phy and electron microscopy, are merely anextension of this ocular process.

So how does anyone become a connois-seur? At the moment, virtually the only wayto become a connoisseur of violins is to be-come seriously involved in dealing. The sin-gle viable alternative to this path lies inrestoring violins for a prolific dealer.

Way back in the 1970s I was told that when theNew York dealer Wurlitzer and his chief restorerSacconi examined a Stradivari, Wurlitzer would sim-

ply look at it and make his decision, whereas Sacconiwould meticulously examine the details inside andout before coming to much the same conclusion. Thisis often the way of things: dealers usually see a greatvariety of instruments, whereas restorers generally

The craft of violinexpertise is stillessentially a visualone

STRADIVARI

STAINERGUARNERI

BALESTRIERIBALESTRIERIMITTENWALD

DA SALò

GRANCIANO

TURINTESTORE

AMATI

BERTOLOTTIVUILLAUME MONTAGNANA

CAMILLI

BRESCIAROGERI TONINI ROMEBOLOGNA

GAGLIANO

TYROL

171see fewer, but have a better understanding of theirconstruction. Wurlitzer was undoubtedly the betterall-round expert, but I doubt he could have writtenThe Secrets of Stradivari.

Now, although it does not follow that all dealersare experts, it is mainly dealers who are tasked withassessing the constant flow of merchandisable in-struments. In this way, if they are astute, they cangradually learn the craft of instrument identification.In contrast, even the wealthiest and most active ofcollectors cannot afford to amass the number and di-versity of instruments required to become a recog-nised connoisseur. And in this respect, even theworld's most important museum collections are woe-fully inadequate.

In the days of ocean liners and steam trains, asmall network of dealers throughout Europe and theAmericas controlled the buying and selling of fine vi-olins. Whatever the moral or negative aspects of thisarrangement were, there was one very definite ad-vantage. Choice instruments tended to be concen-trated in a few very select shops. Indeed someestablishments could legitimately claim to have han-dled virtually every important classical Italian in-strument. As a result of such concentrations, anumber of these dealers became adept at recognis-ing the works of individual makers and the schoolsto which they belonged. And this is exactly how vio-lin connoisseurs were and to some extent still arecreated.

The problem is that in recent decades these con-centrations of instruments have begun to disappear,as have many of the larger dealerships. Today, fineviolins are thinly dispersed across the world, and un-fortunately they are often dispersed among an in-creasing number of inexperienced dealers withself-proclaimed expertise. This new set of circum-stances makes it essential that we find different waysof gaining expertise. And perhaps in this remarkableelectronic age, there are some genuine alternatives.

AT ITS FINEST, INSTRUMENT IDENTIFICATIONnot only involves the naming of a particular master,but also the period of that master's career in which awork was completed. As I have suggested, in order toachieve this, the connoisseur must have had accessto many instruments over many years and to havestudied these works in meticulous detail. Eventually,the very process of compiling, analysing and corre-lating information heightens the connoisseur's per-ception. In another context, such a state might wellbe termed 'enlightenment'. However, enlightenment

of this nature is not an innate gift. Like a good bowarm, it requires hard, repetitive practice. Natural tal-ent (whatever that might be) may help, but it is totaldedication to any discipline that creates outstandingability, and such dedication is invariably the productof passion. There never has been, and there neverwill be, a truly great connoisseur who was not ob-sessed with fiddles. Note that I have written 'ob-sessed with fiddles', not 'obsessed with money'.

Nevertheless, regardless of effort or obsession, theextent of any connoisseur's enlightenment is morerestricted than is generally imagined. History hasseen hundreds of thousands of violin makers. Someof these makers were celebrated and prolific, butmany, perhaps most, were obscure and producedvery few instruments. Although theoretically it is thejob of the connoisseur to identify all surviving in-struments, this is an impossible task.

The simple truth is that no connoisseur, howevergood, can claim to have examined even a single ex-ample of every school, let alone of every maker'swork. Accordingly, each connoisseur is required tomake judgements based upon a relatively small sam-ple of the available whole.

It may surprise most people to learn that when aconnoisseur knows the life and works of only 20 his-torical makers in detail, this is an extraordinaryachievement. With considerable effort, a dependablefamiliarity with a further hundred or so may be re-alised. Beyond this, most connoisseurs are at best re-duced to calculated guesswork. Although this is noexaggeration, it does not mean that connoisseurs areincompetent. Considering the incalculable numberof men and women who have made one or more in-struments, a well-educated guess is more than mightfairly be expected.

Some connoisseurs would know which partson a vintage Jeep are original and whichparts have been repaired, replaced orrepainted

SO WHAT EXACTLY DO I MEAN by 'knowing' thelife and works of a maker in detail? Consider a Jeep,something that most people will often have seen infilms, on television, in magazines and in the street.But someone who knows jeeps well knows, for ex-ample, that the first jeeps were developed by the USArmy Quartermaster Corps in the Second World War;that they weighed 1.25 tons; were powered by a four-cylinder petrol engine; and that they could drive up

172a 60-degree slope. They would also know how manyhave been made since, and by which companies. Theywould know which different models, engines and ac-cessories were available at different periods, and beable to identify the carburettors, sprockets, cotterpins, gaskets and go into the kind of minute detailthat would send most people to sleep. But not satis-fied with this, these connoisseurs would also knowwhich parts on a vintage Jeep are original and whichparts have been repaired, replaced or repainted. Andundoubtedly some of these Jeep connoisseurs willhave contributed to the many hundreds of books thathave been written on the subject.

'Knowing' the work of a violin maker well is ex-actly the same. Benjamin Schröder knows JacobStainer well and Duane Rosengard knows G.B.Guadagnini well because they have studied thosemakers' lives and works in infinite detail, just as theHill brothers did before them with Stradivari. Know-ing 20 makers well is an immense achievement, onewhich only a rare few have managed over two cen-turies. In fact, knowing one important maker well isa seriously worthy accomplishment. But, it is an ac-complishment that any one of us can realisticallyachieve.

Because of the enormous number of violin makers,there has always been a tendency for connoisseursto specialise. Some specialise in geographical regions,others in price ranges. Unfortunately, althoughminor national schools or inexpensive instrumentsmay be just as worthy of academic scrutiny as classi-cal Italian works, in cold commercial terms they arenot.

On the other hand, the intrinsic beauty of manyclassical Italian instruments, their undeniable sonor-ity and their stylistic authority has caused their mon-etary value, and hence their prestige, to increasedramatically over the centuries.

As a result, when the violin world speaks of 'lead-ing connoisseurs', it is usually referring to those con-versant with prestigious classical Italian instruments.Moreover, because of their perceived status, thebroader ability of experts on classical violins is oftenoverestimated - even within the trade. In reality,among the world's famous connoisseurs, both pastand present, knowledge of the minor schools is oftenlimited. This is because such connoisseurs largely ig-nore the minor, less valuable schools, either by de-sign or default, and connoisseurs cannot hope toknow that which they do not see on a regular basis.In fact, the truth is that although one or two have

come close, universal experts are as rare as griffineggs.

Moreover, the old practice of simply seeing andstudying instruments in meticulous detail is, intoday's climate, not enough. The available informa-tion about a maker's life and times may often be ex-tremely limited (and sometimes, as with GiovanniBattista Rogeri of Brescia, violin labels give us almostas much information as is known about the maker),but it has become an essential element of the con-noisseur's craft and it must be examined assiduously.Today no serious connoisseur can afford to ignorethe historical context within which an instrumentwas made.

Put simply, the examination of a single instrumentcan only assist the expert in identifying similar ex-amples of the same maker's work, and only from thesame period. However, if it is known when and wherea maker worked, for whom they worked and who inturn worked for them, the examination of a single in-strument can frequently reveal something about thework of several makers.

AMONG CONNOISSEURS THERE ARE MANY whobelieve that the study of classical Cremonese instru-ments dating from the period 1550 to 1750 is the onlyvalid introduction to expertise. While this is by nomeans true, there can be little doubt that it can pro-vide an excellent foundation upon which the studentcan further develop the craft of expertise. However,whereas in the past this was the exclusive domain ofdominant dealers, today, no matter how remote wemay feel in this often extremely insular business, wecan all explore the route through classical Cremoneseinstruments.

Those makers whose works can be regarded aspossessing the basic characteristics necessary forsuch a study are the families Amati, Guarneri andStradivari. Although there are arguments for andagainst including Jacob Stainer as a member of theclassical Cremonese school, it is inconceivable thathe be left out of this basic group.

Although Venetian cellos are undoubtedly impor-tant, like the Rogeris and Rugeris (who may turn outto be the same family), the Bergonzis and others ofthe Cremonese school, their models were never aspervasive, and in any case, most if not all of thesemakers were already riding the Cremonese wave.

The only worthy exception to this trend was theearly Brescian school, the violas of which have in-spired makers up to the present day. It must also be

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said that Brescian instruments did have a strong in-fluence on several early schools of violin making,particularly in northern Europe. However, in most in-stances this influence was relatively short-lived.More will be said of this in next month's issue.

Arguments in favour of studying Cremonese in-struments as the route to expertise are actually ex-tremely powerful and persuasive. It is certain thatthe designs created and brought to perfection by thisgroup of makers were the stuff from which virtuallyall subsequent violin makers derived their inspira-tion, the only significant exception being, as I haveindicated, the Brescian school. This inspiration maybe many times removed from the original source, buteven in the most primitive of instruments, Cremona'sinfluence cannot be denied. And it is this link, how-ever tenuous, that can help us identify works far re-moved, both geographically and in time, from

Cremona's classical makers.

As banal as the idea might seem,anyone who can identify the basicmodels of these influential makers isalready well on the way towards abetter understanding of all violins.Moreover, simply having some ideaabout who used such models andwhen can direct us towards the par-ticular. This is the basis of the argu-ment supporting a comprehensivestudy of classical Cremonese works.

This argument is further sup-ported by the fact that the lives andworks of these great makers are welldocumented, with new informationbecoming available at regular inter-vals. Although often quite thinlyspread, over a large number of publi-cations and websites, a sizeableiconographic record of these instru-ments already exists and it is grow-ing on a daily basis. Quite apart fromthis online information, classical in-struments can be found in almostevery major orchestra, museum and

auction house in the world. With a little courteouseffort the budding expert can gain access to manyfine examples.

There are, of course, limitations to this approach:we rarely get the chance to really scrutinise such in-struments, and we certainly cannot open them tocheck for hidden scribe lines or secret pins, or to in-vestigate the way in which the linings are set into theblocks. But fortunately, at least for the Cremoneseschool, much of this information has already beenpublicised.

I AM AWARE THAT NUMEROUS groups and soci-eties have computer databases that contain manyphotographs of instruments and descriptions andhistorical information about the makers. Some soci-eties have also published a number of excellent, lim-ited-edition books, for distribution to members only.I am bound to say that I am strongly against this, ex-cept where it applies to private individuals or com-panies. What needs to be monitored is the contentplaced on databases, not who has access to them.

Whatever else you do, never forget the foundingprinciples of the world wide web: develop a healthyhatred for restrictive practices, and for any society

Violin identification is a skill that can belearnt, and with a little application, violinsof any school can be described, comparedand identified

Real expertise involvesnot only identifying aparticular maker, butalso the period of theircareer in which an in-strument was made

174that seeks to control or exploit knowledge.

There are, of course, alternatives to the classicalCremonese approach, but the required informationis not yet as readily available online. For example,British, Dutch or American instruments may be moreprevalent in their countries of origin, but unfortu-nately supportive documentary and iconographicalmaterial for such schools is often either scarce, inac-curate, or both. Fine examples with good certifica-tion are usually more difficult to find, and certainly itwill not be helpful to learn the craft of expertiseusing suspect instruments and questionable infor-mation.

Next Roger Hargrave traces how the Cremoneseinfluence spread across the world

Roger Hargrave has given a presentation on con-noisseurship at the Wieniawski Violin Making Com-petition in Pozna´n on 13 May 2011.