which may be divided into four distinct classes, viz., the Brescian, Cremonese, Neapolitan, and Venetian. These varnishes are quite separable in one particular, which is, the depth of their colouring; and yet three of them, the Brescian, Cremonese, and Venetian, have to all appearance a common basis. This agreement may be accountedfor with some show of reason by the supposition that there must have been a depot in each city where the varnish was sold in an incomplete form, and that the depth of colour used, or even the means adopted for colouring, rested with the maker of the instrument. If we examine the Brescian varnish, we find an almost complete resemblance between the material of Gasparo da Salo and that of his coadjutors, the colouring only being different. Upon turning to the Cremonese, we find that Guarneri, Stradivari, Carlo Bergonzi, and a few others, used varnish having the same characteristics, but, again, different in shade; possibly the method of laying it upon the instrument was peculiar to each maker. Similar facts are observable in the Venetian specimens. The varnish of Naples, again, is of a totally different composition, and as it was chiefly in vogue after the Cremonese was lost, we may conclude that it was probably produced by the Neapolitan makers for their own need.
If we reflect for a moment upon the extensive use which these makers made of the Cremonese varnish, it is reasonable to suppose
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that it was an ordinary commodity in their days, and that there was then no secret in the matter at all. To account for its sudden disappearance and total loss is, indeed, not easy. After 1760, or even at an earlier date, all trace of it is obliterated. The demand for it was certainly not so great as it had been, but quite sufficient to prevent the supply from dying out had it been possible. The problem of its sudden disappearance may, perhaps, be accounted for without overstepping the bounds of possibility, if we suppose that the varnish was composed of a particular gum quite common in those days, extensively used for other purposes besides the varnishing of Violins, and thereby caused to be a marketable article. Suddenly, we will suppose, the demand for its supply ceased, and the commercial world troubled no further about the matter. The natural consequence would be non-production. It is well known that there are numerous instances of commodities once in frequent supply and use, but now entirely obsolete and extinct.
While, however, our attention has been mainly directed to the basis of the celebrated varnish, it must not be supposed that its colouring is of no importance. In this particular each maker had the opportunity of displaying his skill and judgment, and probably it was here, if anywhere, that the secret rested. The gist of the matter, then, is simply that the varnish was common to all, but the
colouring and mode of application belonged solely to the maker, and hence the varied and independent appearance of each separate instrument. With regard, however, to the general question as to what the exact composition of the gum was or was not, I shall hazard no further speculation, and am profoundly conscious of the fact that my present guesses have gained no nearer approaches
to the re-discovery of the buried treasure.
A description, however, of the various Italian varnishes may not be inappropriate. The Brescian is mostly of a rich brown colour and soft texture, but not so clear as the Cremonese. The Cremonese is of various shades, the early instruments of the school being chiefly amber-coloured, afterwards deepening into a light red of charming appearance, later still into a rich brown of the Brescian type, though more transparent, and frequently broken up, while the earlier kinds are velvet-like. The Venetian is also of various shades, chiefly light red, and exceedingly transparent. The Neapolitan varnish (a generic term including that of Milan and a few other places) is very clear, and chiefly yellow in colour, but wanting the dainty softness of the Cremonese. It is quite impossible to give
such a description of these varnishes as will enable the reader at once to recognise them; the eye must undergo considerable exercise before it can discriminate the various qualities; practice, however, makes it so sharp that often from a piece of varnishing the size of
a shilling it will obtain evidence sufficient to decide upon the rank of the Violin.
And here, before we dismiss the subject of the varnish, another interesting question occurs: What is its effect, apart from the beauty of its appearance, upon the efficiency of the instrument? The idea that the varnish of a Violin has some influence upon its tone has often been ridiculed, and we can quite understand that it must appear absurd to those who have not viewed the question in all its bearings. Much misconception has arisen from pushing this theory about the varnish either too far or not far enough. What seems sometimes to be implied by enthusiasts is, that the form of the instrument is of little importance provided the varnish is good, which amounts to saying that a common Violin may be made good by means of varnishing it. The absurdity of such a doctrine is self-evident. On the other hand, there are rival authorities who attach no importance to varnish in relation to tone. That the varnish does influence the tone there is strong proof, and to make this plain to the reader should not be difficult. The finest varnishes are those of oil, and they require the utmost skill and patience in their use. They dry very slowly, and may be described as of a soft and yielding nature. The common varnish is known as spirit varnish; it is easily used and dries rapidly, in consideration of which qualities
it is generally adopted in these days of high pressure. It may be described as precisely the reverse of the oil varnish; it is hard and un-yielding. Now a Violin varnished with fine oil varnish, like all good things, takes time to mature, and will not bear forcing in any way. At first the instrument is somewhat muffled, as the pores of the wood have become impregnated with oil. This makes the instrument heavy both in weight and sound; but as time rolls on the oil dries, leaving the wood mellowed and wrapped in an elastic covering which yields to the tone of the instrument and imparts to it much of its own softness. We will now turn to spirit varnish. When this is used a diametrically opposite effect is produced. The Violin is, as it were, wrapped in glass, through which the sound passes, imbued with the characteristics of the varnish. The result is, that the resonance produced is metallic and piercing, and well calculated for common purposes; if, however, richness of tone be required, spirit-varnished instruments cannot supply it. From these remarks the reader may gather some notion of the vexed question of varnish in relation to tone, and be left to form his own opinion.
The chief features of the Italian School of Violin-makers having been noticed, it only remains to be said that the following list of makers is necessarily incomplete. This defect arises chiefly from old forgeries. Labels used as the trade marks of many deserving makers have from time to time been removed from their lawful instruments in order that others bearing a higher marketable value might be substituted. In the subjoined list will be found all the great names, and every care has been taken to render it as complete
as possible. Several names given are evidently German, most of which belong to an early period, and are chiefly those in connection with the manufacture of Lutes and Viols in Italy. These are included in the Italian list, in order to show that many Germans were engaged in making stringed instruments in Italy, about the period when Tenor and Contralto Viols with four strings were manufactured there--a circumstance worthy of note in connection with the history of Viol and Violin making in Italy, bearing in mind that four-string Viols were used in Germany when Italy used those having six strings.
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SECTION VI Italian Makers
ABATI, Giambattista, Modena, about 1775 to 1793.
ACEVO, Saluzzo. Reference is made in the "Biographie Universelle des Musiciens" to this maker having been a pupil of Gioffredo Cappa, and M. Fetis mentions his having seen a Viol da Gamba dated 1693 of this make, which belonged to Marin Marais, the famous performer on the Viol.1
1 There seems good reason to question the existence of such a person, at all events as a maker of Violins.--EDITORS. ALBANESI, Sebastiano, Cremona, 1720-1744. The pattern is bold and the model flat. Although made at Cremona, they do not properly belong to the school of that place, having
