EARLY ITALIAN VIOLIN VARNISH
Section 1 - Some Thoughts on the Evolution of 'The Ground'
Some years ago, at the English Cello Studio, John Basford and I found that under specific conditions we were able to identify golden structures in the wood of Old Italian violins. Although present in some instruments of other nationalities from the same period, they are absent from almost all the other instruments that we inspected. We could not find a description of these structures in any of the violin literature available to us (although anecdotal evidence suggests that other makers such as the Hills have tried to recreate this effect). Despite much research and experimentation, we were unable to arrive at an explanation or to recreate it. When, quite recently, I encountered the structures again, this time in an Amati viola, I decided to continue the research and finally, at the tail end of some counter intuitive experiments, I began to achieve results. When I had arrived at a successful method of application, I was delighted not only to have made the wood more reflective & golden, but also was left with a silky finish that was effectively burnished and perfect for over varnishing. All the ingredients used would have been readily available throughout Europe and an important ingredient can be traced back as far as the Ancient Greeks. I used the process tentatively, but in my opinion successfully, on my latest Storioni violin.
Recently I was able to inspect a wonderful early Testore and drew the attention of three other makers to the golden structures, who also identified them in the wood of my Storioni. These structures were not present on any other violin inspected. Whilst examining the Testore, which is in superb condition, I tried to imagine how it would have looked when it left the maker's hand; that is to say without the ingrained dirt in the varnish and the darkening due to oxidisation of the oils, gums & wood. The image that came to me was so startling, that I decided to go back and study all the representations of early stringed instruments that I could find.
When looking at early paintings of instruments, we must remember that they are not necessarily realistic representations, but are probably introduced to suggest music itself, to act allegorically or to introduce elements of culture or wealth (e.g. Hans Memling 'Angel Musicians' - 1480, Jan Brueghel the Elder 'Sense of Hearing' - 1618, Paolo Veronese 'The Marriage of Cana' -1563). The artist will have interpreted the instruments to satisfy both his own requirements and the wishes of his patron. However I think that it is possible to conclude that as a general rule, stringed instruments are depicted as having a light to medium yellow/gold colour, with finishes that range from the matt to a soft sheen. Some grain and flaming of the wood can be seen in instruments which were primarily for domestic use, whereas the appearance of 'orchestral' and display instruments is often more ambiguously golden.
It is not until the spread of Still Life painting from Holland in the early to mid 17th century that we are able to inspect the violin more carefully. It is fortunate that Evaristo Baschenis (1617-77), probably the only painter to specialise in still life painting of musical instruments, lived near Cremona, painted Amati instruments and appears to have known the Amati family. Although we have to allow for some of the previously mentioned influences, Baschenis is clearly inviting us to study the form and appearance of the musical instruments he is depicting. If we inspect his treatment of the surfaces of other ingredients of the picture (silk drapes, wooden table tops, paper & manuscripts, glassware, gold & brass fittings) he is apparently seeing the stringed instruments in two separate ways. Some of the lutes and guitars are obviously made from varnished wood but others, including the violins, are once again depicted as 'golden' and we are encouraged to compare & contrast them. The purfling is clearly defined and both form & lustre are celebrated, but there is virtually no reference to flame, grain or any kind of 'woodenness'. The same image of the violin family is presented throughout Europe by still life and portrait painters of the period.
Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that the aesthetic view of the violin up until the 17th century was very different from our own; namely that it was expected to appear golden. If we accept this conclusion, it allows us to begin to explain the introduction, methodology and demise of the varnishes of the golden period.
We have evidence to show that some very early stringed instruments were finished with animal protein-based varnishes and that a number of simple chemicals with preservative properties have been identified in the wood of many of them. Given that Jan Van Eyck (1390-1441) was the inventor of oil painting (ref. E.H. Gombrich), we can follow his steady and improving influence on technique & materials in both painting and associated disciplines across Europe. The desire to display wealth & power amongst mediaeval patrons, notably the Church, would have produced an important motivation for early makers to improve the appearance of their work. There were particularly strong associations, both secular & divine, with the concepts of wealth, gold and goldenness during the period, and the majority of wood finishing materials chosen produced yellow to golden hues.
My research has shown me how wood can be made to look quite golden while at the same time giving it a silky finish. I have also demonstrated how adjustments and improvements can be made to protein varnishes. These techniques not only give the varnish a golden luminosity but also improve its hardness & wearing properties and ability to take a shine. As the protein varnish remains slightly porous, it can be polished with wax or wax emulsions to a very good lustre, but is also capable of accepting simple fixed-oil varnishes etc. As I have explained elsewhere, all of the above can be accomplished with only the simplest of materials and, although the processes are very complicated, they require no refined techniques, and can be incredibly variable. In fact, I have yet to devise a 'recipe' as each improvement is part of a logical process and many of the techniques are self-limiting. The work done by David Rubio makes us aware of the complexity and diversity of some of the alterations to what he refers to as the ground or wood treatment, but what I prefer to regard as the primary varnish.
As more varnishes & materials became available they would have been used as a primary finish or laid over the protein varnish to provide added lustre, and it seems probable that both techniques would have been offered depending on the requirements of the patron & the status of the particular instrument.
When I look at very early violins I have no diificulty in following the development from the Viola da braccio, through the three- stringed instruments depicted by the painter Ferrari (1535), to the earliest violins of the Amati family (1564) and Gasparo (1562), and I can see in these makers a determination to establish both form & dimension (possibly based on the desire to create a 'consort' of violins). Against this variation and experimentation, the completeness and sense of resolution of the varnishing technique has always perplexed me. It is my opinion that we are looking at the results of a system, developed & passed on through the guilds, that viewed the violin and its predecessors with a different aesthetic sensibility from our own, and that a change in this aesthetic was already developing by the late 16th century.
As the violin developed late in the Renaissance it escaped the more excessive of its decorative influences, and although makers including Andreas Amati and Stradivari experimented with the decorative styles of the period they were soon abandoned. The Baroque is generally defined by theatricality, illusion and exuberant decoration, but the aesthetic debate of the period was concerned with form and colour which came to a head in the French Academy at the end of the 17th century (ref. M. Kitson). If we refer back to a work such as 'Evaristo Baschenis's Studio' we are made aware that the artist, his patrons & probably the maker were influenced by these ideas. Part of the greatness of Stradivari is that he recognised the fundamentals of the Baroque style while avoiding its complexity. He concentrated on perfecting the form and recognised that choice of materials & colour in themselves make the instrument as decorative as it needs to be. One can only speculate on the variety of factors that influenced his decisions and their outcomes. I am intrigued by the concept that natural oxidation will compromise the golden look of earlier instruments and may in part explain why many makers used plain & slab cut maple and even experimented with other pale hardwoods. This natural darkening & contrast suggests an alternative aesthetic interpretation. Finishing a wooden artefact with a strongly coloured varnish, although not unique, is rare in Western Art. It is also the conceptualisation & realisation of this method that we should celebrate in Stradivari. Once he had a material to work with, he did what we all would do - he applied the new & untested on top of the proven. He replaced a lightly pigmented finishing layer with a varnish, and so the paradox of the protective layer lying under the varnish is resolved.
I am always surprised at how completely the physical presence of the ground disappears once some of the coats of varnish are laid over it. All that remains are the reflective & refractive effects of the play of light which appear to give the varnish-proper extraordinary properties. This is more apparent on old instruments and may explain some of the myths that have been created about lost ingredients, reflective particles of gem stones, gold etc. within the varnish.
One of the great strengths of the Baroque is that it was broad enough to generate individual national schools and, due to social & economic upheavals, Paris replaced Rome as the major artistic capital. Stradivari's alternative definitions of form and colour were readily adopted by French makers. Meanwhile, the later Cremonese makers experienced a lack of patronage, with its associated benefits and continuity of work. They suffered a gradual decline and may not even have had access to the works of the greats of the previous generation (ref. D. Ginlin). Whether it was due to a lack of traditional practice, or the effects of absolute concentration on the new aesthetic, the next generation of makers replaced the ground with less complicated yellow undercoats. This technique was common in other disciplines. Turkish carpets were dyed with saffron before madder; painters primed with ochre when they intended their work to have a particularly warm appearance, and cabinet makers stained mahogany with potassium dichromate in order to accentuate the golden highlights within the wood. As the later Cremonese declined, I find their struggle to maintain their great tradition both insightful and useful. The ground is neither lost nor abandoned; its purpose and manufacture simply faded from memory as one aesthetic requirement was replaced by another.
Today we can access thousands of technical images of violins, most of which have been created for commercial reasons, or in order to compare and contrast individual stylistic details between makers or schools. They fulfill their function well and we are able to inspect the minutiae of condition & construction, but these images are essentially front, back & scroll elevations of the violin. The chance actually to handle great instruments becomes increasingly rare, so most of us come to rely upon such images and any photographs that we have been able to take ourselves. In fact, future historians may recognise a new approach to making where the flow of influence is reversed - instead of the object initiating the image, the appearance comes to influence the production of the object. It is interesting to note that some makers & dealers are beginning to illustrate violins in the manner of Baschenis in oder to recapture their form and 'presence'.
Although I believe that I have managed to unpick some of the techniques used to create 'the ground', there is still much to discover. I would greatly welcome any informed comment on the above, no matter how critical. It would be good to have the opportunity for constructive discussion. The finest of the early grounds have a tantalising brilliance, and I am currently researching naturally occurring iridescence. If anyone can offer some direction in this matter I would be most grateful.
While I am firmly of the opinion that the ground has a beneficial effect on the acoustics of an instrument (and this is reinforced by the unsolicited comments of players) I can offer no empirical evidence to substantiate this. In the following illustrations, allowances must be made for the need to create a viola that suits modern tastes and so the visual structure of the wood has been enhanced (see details below under 'Textural Analysis').
Section 2 - Practical Applications
Test Strip Image
Three horizontal bands of traditional wood preserving formulae were applied to both sides.
Side 1
A - Lightly oiled for the purpose of comparison.
B - Burnished without pigmentation to produce a silky, light golden effect.
Side 2
Burnished and covered with a modified protein coat, which has been strongly pigmented with an organic material. This will quickly fade to produce a colour unavailable through other means. Over varnished with:
C - Pine resin / nut oil varnish
D - Wax oil emulsion
E - Orange madder varnish
F - Propolis varnish
In the following examples, the viola has had the flame and grain enhanced to suit modern tastes.
Viola Image 1
The viola has been lightly pigmented and burnished in order to create a reflective golden quality to the wood.
Please note:
Transferring these moving images from one media to another has resulted in some horizontal compression that we are still trying to resolve.
Viola Image 2
A modified protein coat completes the ground and introduces depth, refraction and more colour.
Viola Image 3
The finished instrument is darker in tone & hue and is now illustrated in Gallery 6. The first few coats of varnish disguise the presence of the ground, whilst both acquiring and improving its visual properties.
Textural Analysis in the Manner of Evaristo Baschenis
With many thanks to Sheffield Music Shop for the loan of the woodwinds and Tim Toft Violins for the mandolin & 'lute'.
I was very curious to establish whether the camera would capture the same textural differences as Baschenis achieved. I am very pleased with the resulting image, which allows us to distinguish the surface quality of all the elements in the composition.
There are clear visual differences between:
- the oiled boxwood recorder
- the basic, clear varnish on the mandolin
- the 'lute' which has been lightly stained and finished with a soft, slightly pigmented varnish
- the viola which has been part varnished as above and refracts natural light.
I have shared the above methodology with a longstanding friend & colleague and I am grateful to him for feedback on his results.
'I was pleased to take part in Ian's research by varnishing my most recent violin according to his instructions. His system, although complex, is simple to execute and requires no exotic materials. The results were surprising in two ways.
Visually, the effect has much more in common with varnishes of the 18th century than with more modern finishes. The varnish seems much more integrated with the instrument and the impression is one of looking at a violin made of interesting coloured wood, rather than looking at a complex layer superimposed on the body of a violin.
Although I would like to take the credit for the sound of this instrument, there is an aspect to the sound quality which I have not observed before. Response time is very fast, and harmonics are easy to produce and strong. The overall tone is powerful but lacking coarseness; less like one voice singing loudly , and more like a choir of well-trained voices singing with individual restraint but with combined power and depth.
With the exception of the varnish, this violin was made in my usual manner.'
Padraig O"Dubhlaoidh
Hibernian Violins
Malvern
19th October, 2010
© Ian Highfield - 2010