Great Violinists And Pianists | Page 5

it.
The wedge will rend rocks, but its edge must be sharp and single; if it
be double, the wedge is bruised in pieces and will rend nothing."
II.
So much said concerning the general conditions under which the craft
of violin-making reached such splendid excellence, the attention of the
reader is invited to the greatest masters of the Cremona school.
"The instrument on which he played Was in Cremona's workshops
made, By a great master of the past, Ere yet was lost the art divine;
Fashioned of maple and of pine, That in Tyrolean forests vast Had
rooked and wrestled with the blast.
"Exquisite was it in design, A marvel of the lutist's art, Perfect in each
minutest part; And in its hollow chamber thus The maker from whose
hand it came Had written his unrivaled name, 'Antonius Stradivarius.'"
The great artist whose work is thus made the subject of Longfellow's
verse was born at Cremona in 1644. His renown is beyond that of all

others, and his praise has been sounded by poet, artist, and musician.
He has received the homage of two centuries, and his name is as little
likely to be dethroned from its special place as that of Shakespeare or
Homer. Though many interesting particulars are known concerning his
life, all attempt has failed to obtain any connected record of the
principal events of his career. Perhaps there is no need, for there is
ample reason to believe that Antonius Stradiuarius lived a quiet,
uncheckered, monotonous existence, absorbed in his labor of making
violins, and caring for nothing in the outside world which did not touch
his all-beloved art. Without haste and without rest, he labored for the
perfection of the violin. To him the world was a mere workshop. The
fierce Italian sun beat down and made Cremona like an oven, but it was
good to dry the wood for violins. On the slopes of the hills grew grand
forests of maple, pine, and willow, but he cared nothing for forest or
hillside except as they grew good wood for violins. The vineyards
yielded rich wine, but, after all, the main use of the grape was that it
furnished the spirit wherewith to compound varnish. The sheep, ox, and
horse were good for food, but still more important because from them
came the hair of the bow, the violin strings, and the glue which held the
pieces together. It was through this single-eyed devotion to his
life-work that one great maker was enabled to gather up all the
perfections of his predecessors, and stand out for all time as the flower
of the Cremonese school and the master of the world. George Eliot, in
her poem, "The Stradivari," probably pictures his life accurately:
"That plain white-aproned man, who stood at work, Patient and
accurate full fourscore years, Cherished his sight and touch by
temperance; And since keen sense is love of perfectness, Made perfect
violins, the needed paths For inspiration and high mastery."
M. Fetis, in his notice of the greatest of violin-makers, summarizes his
life very briefly. He tells us the life of Antonius Stradiuarius was as
tranquil as his calling was peaceful. The year 1702 alone must have
caused him some disquiet, when during the war the city of Cremona
was taken by Marshal Villeroy, on the Imperialist side, retaken by
Prince Eugene, and finally taken a third time by the French. That must
have been a parlous time for the master of that wonderful workshop

whence proceeded the world's masterpieces, though we may almost
fancy the absorbed master, like Archimedes when the Romans took
Syracuse, so intent on his labor that he hardly heard the din and roar of
battle, till some rude soldier disturbed the serene atmosphere of the
room littered with shavings and strewn with the tools of a peaceful
craft.
Polledro, not many years ago first violin at the Chapel Royal of Turin,
who died at a very advanced age, declared that his master had known
Stradiuarius, and that he was fond of talking about him. He was, he said,
tall and thin, with a bald head fringed with silvery hair, covered with a
cap of white wool in the winter and of cotton in the summer. He wore
over his clothes an apron of white leather when he worked, and, as he
was always working, his costume never varied. He had acquired what
was regarded as wealth in those days, for the people of Cremona were
accustomed to say "As rich as Stradiuarius." The house he occupied is
still standing in the Piazza Roma, and is probably the principal place of
interest in the old city to the tourists who drift thitherward. The
simple-minded Cremonese have scarcely a conception to-day of the
veneration with which their ancient townsman is