Italian
violin strings in the eighteenth
and nineteenth centuries:
typologies,
manufacturing techniques and
principals of stringing
by Mimmo Peruffo
(Updated
version of the original article in Recercare
IX, 1997, pp.155-203)
In
the first version of Recercare some
of the conclusions reported in section 8
(Working tension and “feel”) turned out to be
incorrect. I apologize to
readers and offer an updated version of the article below.
Questa
picciol'arte, che contribuisce tanto
al nostro
piacere, e forse una delle men
note,
attesoche' coloro che la professano
ne serbano le
pratiche a guisa di segreto.
FRANCESCO Griselini: Dizionario
delle arti e
mestieri
(Venezia 1765).
On
matters concerning strings and the criteria
of stringing bowed instruments from the beginning of the eighteenth to
the end
of the nineteenth century, the systematic study of recently acquired
material
has produced some remarkable surprises, that are particularly revealing
if
compared to the stringing techniques currently used by the early music
specialists. For at least a decade researchers (1) have begun to
realize that a too fast interpretations
of the original
sources in certain important violin methods dating from the first half
of the
present century - as, for example, that of Carl Flesch (2) - have had a
bad
influence on those who first began to pose the problem of how best to
recover
past musical repertories, in accordance with the strictest principles
of
authenticity
It has been widely held,
for example, that eighteenth-century bowed instruments, and especially
the
violin, had a thin, nasal sound – in marked contrast, therefore,
with that of
our own century, with its dominance of metal strings: this was
generally
attributed to the preference of early musicians to string their
instruments
much more lightly than is done today in ordinary practice (3). The idea
became
so deeply rooted (mainly because no really serious research was done on
the
subject) that even important string manufacturers would recommend very
thin
strings to anyone intending to play baroque music.
In
recent years, however, a more painstaking
study of the historical documents has suggested a substantially
different
situation, thereby generating a founded
doubt that what we hear today in so-called ‘authentic
performances’ does not
wholly correspond to what was once generally heard (leaving aside
matters of
performance practice). In fact, just as the reconstruction of
early
musical repertories and their respective instruments requires accurate
comparative studies of the various elements of the past, it stands to
reason
that the string - the actual generator of sound - should be one of the
main
points of departure (if not the main one) of that endeavour. Hence, as
some
studies have shown, the string is no longer just one of the bricks
making up
the edifice, but rather the "corner stone of the temple" (4).
1.
The four ages of gut strings
Though
strings made out of gut had been used
for thousands of years (gut strings for ancient Egyptian plucked string
instruments have been found dating from the Third Dynasty), (5) over
the
centuries a series of improvements were introduced in the techniques
needed to
produce a good string. On the basis of research we may conjecture that
developments in gut string manufacturing consisted not so much in a
slow and
progressive refinement of construction techniques but rather in periods
of
abrupt change brought about by the discovery of new technologies.
Such
innovations spread surprisingly fast and
often even had the effect of determining the appearance or
disappearance of
certain categories of musical instrument. This can be verified if we
examine
the repercussions of overspun bass strings, consisting of a gut core
wrapped
with fine metal wire (generally of silver but also of copper or brass).
These
new strings, a genuinely revolutionary discovery, appeared towards the
second
half of the seventeenth century, spread rapidly and were directly
responsible
for the swift abandonment of the awkward bass-violins in use until the
end of
the seventeenth century (or shortly after) in favour of the emerging
violoncello (6).
However,
it also seems highly likely that, even
during periods of relative technological stagnation, string makers
probably
endeavoured to produce strings to the best of their ability and as
perfectly as
possible. The rooted idea that the strings of past centuries were a
little
"primitive" and a long way off the presumed perfection of modern
strings needs to be firmly rejected.
As a
rough guide, we can outline four
characteristic "eras" in the evolution of string making.
The
first era. The
first era can be approximately identified
as the phase in which certain primary materials, especially gut and
silk, were
discovered to possess a certain degree of resistance under tension and
a capacity
to produce sound. Due to its wide availability, gut was the material
mainly
used in the Western and Mediterranean civilizations. Subsequently,
manufacturing techniques were improved and rationalized, a step that is
reflected in the numerous "do-it-yourself" treatises of the Middle Ages.
Here, for example, is a recipe drawn from
the "Secretum philosophorum", a fifteenth-century manuscript:
“Ad
faciendum cordas lire!
Cum autem volumus facere cordas lire [...] recipe intestina ovium et
lava ea
munde et pone ea in aqua vel in lexivia per dimidium vel plus usque
caro se
separet leviter a materia corde que est similis quasi nervo. Post
depone
carnern de materia cum penna vel cum digito mundo. Post pone materiam
in
lescivia ford vel rubio vino per 2 dies. Post extrahe et sieca cum panno
lineo et iunge 3 vel 4
simul secundum quantitatem quam volueris habere et atturna ea usque
sufficiat.
Et extende ea super parietem et permitte sicare [...]". (7)
The
procedures described are surprisingly
similar to those used today but, as string manufacturing was not yet a
professional trade, the final product must have been rather variable in
quality.
The
second era. The
second period ranged from the second half
of the fifteenth to the first half of the sixteenth century. It
probably
coincides with the appearance of the professional string maker, who
perfected
manufacturing techniques and raised the quality of strings to the
highest
possible levels.
During
the sixteenth century the main centres
of string making were also important for the dyeing and spinning of
silk and
cotton: Barcelona, Munich and Brussels in the early-sisteenth century;
Florence, Venice, Nuremberg and Lyon later. It is plausible, perhaps,
that the
string makers learned from the more complex techniques used in the
spinning of
silk: processes that would have allowed a significant initial reduction
of the
stiffness of the thicker strings used in the bass register. In fact, we
may
deduce that bass strings were, probably, even more efficient than
before, if
instrument makers were able to permit themselves important structural
developments: in the case of the lute, a sixth course was added some
time
towards the end of the fifteenth century, thus extending the
instrument's range
by as much as a fourth (sometimes a fifth) below the fifth course; the
same
happened to the bowed viol.
The
third era. The
next era began in the second half of the
sixteenth century with a further leap. In this period a seventh course,
generally tuned a fourth (sometimes a fifth) below the sixth course,
was added
to the lute (other additions were soon to follow), while on bowed
instruments,
string lengths seem to have been reduced (8).
Recent studies (9) have tended to show that
these changes resulted from the
application of a revolutionary idea: the increase in the specific
weight of the
gut in bass strings by means of special treatments involving heavy
mineral
salts. Amongst other things, this is suggested by the
seventeenth-century
iconography, which shows bass strings of a dark red, brown or blackish colour very different from the typical
yellowish colour of natural gut higher
strings: in all likelihood, this was a direct consequence of the
loading
process. This new technique allowed makers to produce thinner yet more
sonorous
bass strings.
But the most
stringent confirmations come from the bass
stringholes diameters in the original bridges of surviving
lutes.
Those holes are too small for a plain
gut string to possess the necessary working tension for
the
right pitch, unless its weight was appropriately increased.
Such
trick would have granted the production of much thinner and sonorous
bass
strings than those previously in use, which would fit in those holes
with the
right amount of tension.
Against this
theory speaks the fact that modern loaded strings,
as produced to
date, are not transparent; a quality which is allegedly described
in
the ancient sources. To this point, however, it must be
pointed
out how historic documents (with the only exception, perhaps, of
the Mary
Burwell lute tutor) refer, in fact, to the lute's upper
and mid
registers, not to the basses.
This
phase, corresponding to the age of
Monteverdi and Stradella, marks probably a peak in the complexity of
gut string
making, establishing a level of quality that was to remain unsurpassed.
The
fourth era. The
last era - which still continues today -
is marked by the advent of overspun bass strings consisting of a gut core (i.e.
an ordinary plain gut string) over which
is wound a fine metallic wire; the windings can be either close or open.
The
oldest extant document attesting this
technique dates from 1659: "Goretsky
hath an invention of lute strings covered with silver wyer, or strings
which
make a most admirable musick. Mr Boyle. [...] String
of guts done about with silver wyer makes a very sweet musick,
being of Goretskys invention” (10). This is closely followed
by John
Playfbrd's viol treatise of 1664 and other works (11). However, the
spread of
these more efficient basses was not as rapid as one might imagine: the
viol
player Sainte-Colombe introduced them to France only around 1675 (12), and in
Italy, a country renowned for its string
production, the earliest evidence is from the year 1677 (13). The
earliest
extant iconographic evidence of a violin with a white fourth string
(probably over-spun with silver) can be
dated to the mid. 1680s (14).
It
goes without saying that this discovery
probably had a dramatic impact on both music and instrument making; it
could
even be described as a watershed, dividing before
and after. For while treble
instruments like the violin had always been eminently manageable, the
larger
instruments were disproportionately unwieldy if we consider the range
that was
comfortably reached by the fingers of the left hand. It is easy to
understand,
therefore, that as soon as efficient bass strings became available, the
instrument makers shortened the vibrating lengths of several of the da fondamento instruments so as to make
them more manageable. This also meant that the violin could use the
fourth
string more efficently and therefore more frequently than before.
2.
Gut string manufacturing technologies in the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries
Before
examining the typical characteristics of
eighteenth- and nineteenth-century violin stringing, a topic that
squarely
falls within the fourth era, it is worth briefly assessing the period
preceding
the introduction of wound bass strings so as to present the typologies
of
string available in the late seventeenth century and actually used on
this instrument.
Undoubtedly
the most comprehensive document on
stringing in the period before Bach is the treatise by Thomas Mace. Its
most
notable aspect — one that had already been mentioned many years
earlier by John Dowland
(15) — is its division of the strings (in this case for the lute,
the most
problematic instrument for stringing at that time) into three basic
"sorts": strings for the Trebles (Minikins, Romans), strings for the
Meanes (Venice-catlins), and strings for Great-basses (Lyons or the
"deep
dark red" coloured Pistoys) (16).
What
this arrangement strongly suggests is not
so much a simple commercial distinction or a grouping according to
provenance
(ever since the early sixteenth century, strings had been named after
their
respective areas of provenance) as differing types of technology. It
seems to
imply that diversified manufacturing strategies were followed in order
to
produce strings that were suited to each register and to ensure a
perfect
"acoustical" transition between registers. To our experience (as
stringmakers) of a working all-gut strung lute the characteristics of
each type
would appear to be: maximum resistance to wear and breakage for treble
strings,
maximum elasticity for the strings of the middle register, and an
increase in
specific weight and elasticity for the bass strings. Finally, though
the
earliest mention of overspun strings is from England and precedes his
treatise,
Mace's description of Bass strings still refers to the all-gut strings
made
exclusively in Italy and France.
An
example of seventeenth-century violin
stringing is given by James Talbot: "Best
strings are Roman 1st & 2nd of Venice catlins: 3rd & 4th best
be finest
& smoothest Lyons, all 4 differ in size" (17). This is
corroborated by iconographic evidence showing an obvious difference
between the first two strings, which are
light yellow, and the third and fourth strings, which are distinctly
brown
(18).
To our
knowledge, the only seventeenth-century
author to give an idea of the gauges of violin strings is Mersenne. His
indications, though general, are useful: "la chantarelle
des dessus est aussi grosse que la quatriesme des luths"
(the violin first string is the same size as the fourth string of the
lutes)
(19). This means a diameter of between 0.70 and 0.80 mm for the violin
first
string (20).
With
the introduction of overspun strings (and
with the consequent increase in demand for them, especially from bowed
instruments), the techniques of making all-gut bass strings declined
rapidly
and were forgotten by the new generation of string makers: just by
wrapping a
thin metal wire around a gut string one got a much larger sound. As a
result, the
manufacture of these new strings probably passed immediately into the
hands of
the luthiers, and sometimes into those of the musicians themselves: the
winding
of a normal gut string with metal wires would have hardly constituted a
problem
for the more enterprising among them (21).
The
early eighteenth century must have
witnessed a drastic narrowing of production: by mid-century the
treatises and
documents are no longef referring to the wide range of gut commodities
described in the previous century (22). In its place there arose a
uniform
system of string manufacturing that remained in use in the following
centuries
— and to a great extent still applies today.
String
manufacturing technique. Though at first glance the
procedures for making gut strings in the eighteenth century look
remarkably
like those in use today, there were substantial differences. And what
these
differences unquestionably suggest is that the earlier strings (right
up to the
end of the nineteenth century) were more elastic, and hence better,
than those
available today.

Fig 1: Christoph Weigel, der saitenmacher, Regensburg
1698
String
making (figure 1) in the past required the use of a
whole lamb-gut of a
length of at least 50 feet (23). After careful cleaning and rinsing in
running
water for several days, the gut was subjected to a series of treatments
to
eliminate the non-muscular membranes and fatty substances. This was
done by
immersing the gut in alkaline solutions of increasing concentration for
a few
days, after which the undesirable substances were easily removed with
the back
of a knife or a fragment of cane. The alkaline solution consisted of
plant
ashes (potash) mixed with water. The diluted concentrations were
sufficient to
remove the more easily soluble fatty substances, while the highest
concentration was left to the end of the treatment, when more
aggressive action
was needed to remove all the residual unwanted substances. During this
stage a small
amount of rock-alum could be added; it would have had a shrinking and
tanning
effect, thus slightly hardening the gut. In short, the alkaline baths
ensured
that the organic material underwent a combined process of fermentation
and
soaping to facilitate the detachment of the undesirable parts, while
leaving
the muscular membrane — the part that interested the string
maker—free of
extraneous matter and perfectly degreased.
After
this treatment guts were carefully
selected and grouped together in parallel strips (according to the
diameter of
the string to be made) and knotted at both ends. The strips were then
attached
to a special wheel used for twisting the string while the other end was
fixed
to a peg at the side of a drying frame (figure 1). After sufficient
twisting,
the free end of the damp string was disconnected from the wheel and
tied to a
peg at the opposite side of the drying frame and placed under tension.
When
the frame was full, it was taken to a
special room where the strings were subjected to a process of whitening
by
sulphurization. This involved burning sulphur in a basin and subjecting
the
strings, for several days, to the whitening action of the sulphur
dioxide
fumes.
When
this was completed, the strings were
further twisted and given a final drying in the open air for just a few
hours.
The very last stage consisted of polishing the surface of the strings
using a
grass with abrasive qualities (equisetum or horsetail) soaked in
alkaline
solution or tempra.
The
perfectly polished strings were then rubbed
with olive oil, cut from the ends of the frame, wound in circular
bundles and
put into boxes. Each box could contain from fifteen up to thirty or
more
strings soaked in olive oil (24).
There
are therefore substantial differences
between the procedures followed then and now.
The
first important difference is that today
lamb's gut has often been virtually abandoned and replaced by material
from
more mature animals.
Secondly,
most stringmakers in the eighteenth
century, and much of the nineteenth, used whole gut, whereas in modern
practice
a special machine is used to cut the material into ribbons; this helps
to
reduce string conicity, a problem that had always affected the
production of
chanterelles. It is generally thought that cutting into ribbons was
first
practised by the late eighteenth-century German makers, though in fact
it
already existed in Italy around the mid sixteenth century: see the
second Roman
stringmaker’s statute (the document, which I have examined, is
dated 1587 and
was discovered in 1999 by Marco Pesci of Rome). In other worlds there
are
statute rules that inflicted heavy fines on string makers — Roman
makers in
this case — who were caught splitting gut into halves ("spaccare le mazze, o budelle per mezzo")
(25). Evidently, despite the advantage of obtaining more regular
gauges, the
most powerful corporation of string makers (that of Rome) did not
consider it a
good practice.
Another
difference is that today the fatty
substances are removed by using pure sodium carbonate instead of potash, which is an impure potassium
carbonate obtained by burning vinasse and wine
dregs.
And for the whitening process, string makers today use oxidizing agents
such as
hydrogen peroxide or sodium peroxide.
The
last substantial difference from past
practice is that the dried rough strings are no longer lightly smoothed
with
abrasive grass (or pumice powder), but rectified by a special machine
(uncenterless machine) capable of producing the wide variety of
diameters in
demand today.
While
at first glance it might seem that
modernization merely introduced a few welcome improvements after
centuries of
unchanged string making technology, this is not entirely correct.
Certain
seemingly insignificant steps in the earlier process have been unduly
overlooked.
This is quite evident if we compare modern strings with the few
surviving
samples of old strings (even relatively recent strings dating from the
beginning of this century). The former are often stiff, hard and only
lightly
twisted; the latter are pliable, soft and highly twisted. In addition,
modern
strings have, normally, a very short string life unless they are
varnished.
The
difference in string life is easily
explained. Strings made of whole guts and lightly polished by means of
abrasive
grass or pumice have much fewer broken fibers on their surface than
those made
from split guts and brought to the desired diameter by mechanical
rectification
that forcibly removes significant quantities of material from the
string's
surface.
The
second important aspect to have a serious
effect on the string's acoustical performance is the sacrifice of
elasticity in
favour of strength of tension. This almost suggests that today's
strings are
built to stand up to a tug-of-war and not to provide as good a sound as
possible.
Instead, to play well, a string must have the capacity to transform the
mechanical impulse transmitted by the bow or the fingers into a
vibrational
movement that is, as far as possible, devoid of the internal frictions
that
would reduce the efficiency of that transformation.
A
number of factors lie behind this
"abandonment" of the manufacturers' quest for maximum elasticity. One
is that string makers no longer use the gut of young animals, which
tends to be
less rigid and nervy. Another is the replacement of potash — also
known as oil of tartar and widely used until the
beginning of this century as a skin softener for the hands — by
sodium
carbonate, which seems not to have those properties (26). The
importance of
potash on string quality is confirmed in Pierre Jauber's Dictionnaire
raisonné (though we should note that the
eighteenth-century Italian string makers produced it by calcinating
wine dregs
only, while the French used so-called "sieved" ash with its much
lower potash content):
On
pense qu'y a encore une légere opération a faire aux
cordes avant de les
exposer en vente; elle consiste vraisem-blablement à les frotter
d'huile pour
les adoucir et les rendre encore plus souples: mais les boyaudiers en
font un
mystère; ils assurent qu'ils ne se servent point d'huile, et que
c'est dans
cette derniere manoeuvre que consiste tout le secret de leur art.
Le
boyaudiers ont raison d'assurer qu'ils ne se servent point d'huile pour
assouplir et donner du son a leurs corde, mais ils y emploient des sels
qui
sont extraits de la lie de vin (27).
(It is
thought that there is still a light
operation to be done on the strings before exposing them to the wind:
it seems
to consist in rubbing them with oil to soften them and make them even
more
pliable. But the gut-makers make a mystery of it. They assure you that
they
make no use of oil and that it is in this last operation that the whole
secret
of their art lies.
The
gut-makers are right to assure us that they
do not use oil to soften and give sound to their strings, but for that
they use
salts extracted from wine dregs).
As
general rule, modern strings are often less
twisted than the strings of the past. This is shown not only by the
historical
documents, but also by the examination of several surviving samples of
old gut
strings (28). It goes without saying that the degree of twist is
fundamental in
determining the elasticity of a gut string (29).
Old
strings were made, in most of cases, with a
high twist, with the exception of lute-chanterelles, the strings
subjected to
the severest working conditions.
We
also note that the softening effect of
"oil of tartar" on gut
permits a much higher degree of twist than the highest level obtainable
using
modern techniques.
More
research needs to be done before we have a
better understanding of why the old string makers took several days (up
to
eight) (30) o conclude the whitening process.In fact, it is only
recently that
researchers have started to grasp — as the ancient string makers
had long been
empirically aware — that there was something more to this
laborious and awkward
process than a matter of whitening the string, an operation that might
even
seem superfluous (Galeazzi actually disapproved of excessively white
strings)
(31). What was really involved was the formation of sulfide links
between the
long chains of collagen, the main constituent of gut, in order to
increase
elasticity at the expense of plasticity. In short it amounted to a
genuine
process of "vulcanization",
rather like the transformation of an iron wire into a musical steel
string.
On
this matter Griselini includes a very revealing remark: "Ma
l'operazione da noi descritta non basta a
dare alla corda 1'elasticità convenevole, ed a renderla sonora.
Havvi, per
quanto dicesi, un altro segreto ancora, [...] affinchè si
secchino lentamente
ai vapori del zolfo, ed elastiche divengano" (But the operation we
have just described is not sufficient to give the string the right
elasticity
and to give it its sound. There is, it is said, also
another secret [...] for drying them slowly in sulphur vapour, and
making them
become elastic) (32). Labarraque reiterates the same concept: "L'azione del vapore del solfo e
indispensabile per ottenere buone corde musicali" (The action of
the
sulphur vapour is indispensible for obtaining good strings) (33). As
does the
great nineteenth-century French string maker Philippe Savaresse: "Le
soufrage influe aussi beaucoup sur la qualité des cordes. II est
indispensable
pour les obtenir bonnes" (Sulphuring has a very strong influence on
the quality of the strings. It is indispensible for making them good)
(34).
Believing
— erroneously, as we have just seen —
that sulphurization was merely a process for whitening the gut,
twentieth-century string makers decided to carry out the same operation
using
more convenient chemical solutions. Often, however, especially if used
either
inexpertly or to excess, these chemical agents can weaken the material
and
lower the strings resistance to breakage under tension.
Finally,
even the function of olive oil seems
to be more important than previously thought. Hitherto it has been seen
as
fulfilling a simple aesthetic function after the polishing process.
This would
be reasonable enough if it was just a matter of giving the strings a
light
oiling before packaging. But in the Italian tradition the strings were
literally soaked in oil in impermeable packages for a considerable
length of
time — probably months, if we consider that strings that were too
fresh were
generally never used on instruments. The careful observer will note
that gut
strings given a long soaking in olive oil acquire a special consistency
as if
they had undergone a tanning treatment (very like the fat- or
oil-tanning
carried out since time immemorial on skins and leather to make them
last
longer). In fact, treating a gut string in this way increases its life.
This
also seems to be the function of the rock-alum added to the alkaline
solution
before the twisting phase (35).
The
logical conclusion would appear to be that
the strings made in the past were probably, in most cases, superior
from the
points of view of acoustical performance and durability. Those made
today, on
the other hand, can boast precise dimensions and therefore rarely sound
untrue,
which was the constant problem of strings made before the introduction
of
mechanical rectification.
3.
The centres of production
During
the eighteenth century the main centre
of string production was Rome, which in 1735 boasted as many as twenty
workshops (controlled by very strict statutes) (36). Roman chanterelles
remained famous throughout the eighteenth
century until the eventual disbanding of the powerful Roman
corporation.
Thereafter primacy in quality production was taken over by the
accomplished
string makers of Naples,
closely followed by those of Padua. In 1786, the two most
important Paduan workshops were those of Antonio
Bagatella and the firm of "Gio. Battista, ed Antonio fratelli Priuli
detto
Romanin", founded in 1613 by Antonio Romanin, a string maker possibly
of
Roman origin, and closed down in 1911 (37).
De
Lalande wrote that: "La fabrication des cordes de violon
est une
chose qui est presque réservée a 1'Italie; Naples &
Rome en fournissent
toute 1'Europe, & il y a touiours beaucoup de mystère dans
ces branches
exclusives de commerce" (The making of violin strings is a
phenomenon
that is almost completely restricted to Italy, with Naples and Rome
supplying
the whole of Europe and there is always a great mystery surrounding
these
exclusive branches of trade) (38). Galeazzi gives the following indication: "Veniamo finalmente alle corde: devonsi provvedere
le corde alle migliori fabbriche d'ltalia; quali sono quelle di Padova,
di
Napoli, di Roma, di Budrio sul Bolognese, e delI'Aquila
nell’Abbruzzo. Vi sono ancora altre
fabbriche in Citta di Castello, Perugia, Rieti, Teramo, ed altri
luoghi; ma le
prime portano il vanto, specialmente quelle di Padova, e di Napoli" (Let us finally consider the
strings: they should be acquired
from the best manufacturers of Italy, such as those of Padua, Naples,
Rome,
Budrio near Bologna and L'Aquila in the Abruzzi; there are other
manufacturers
at Città di Castello, Perugia, Rieti, Teramo and other places,
though the first
to be mentioned, particularly those of Padua and Naples, are the most
prestigious) (39). Interesting information on string making in the
Bologna area
is supplied by Natale Cionini (see Appendix). Spohr
reports: "Es giebt Italiänische und
Deutsche Saiten. Letztere sind aber viel schlechter wie jene und zum
Solospiel
gar nicht zu gebrauchen. Auch die Italiänischen Saiten sind von
ungleicher Güte
und in der Regel die Neapolitanischen den Römischen und diese
denen von Padua
und Mailand vorzuziehen" (There are Italian and German strings. The latter are much worse and
cannot be used for solo playing. Even the
Italian are of unequal quality and as a rule the Neapolitan are to be
preferred
to the Roman, which in turn are to be preferred to those of Padua and
Milan)
(40).
The
incomparable quality of the Neapolitan
violin chanterelles — but also those for other instruments (41)
— remained a
mystery to the French string makers, who succeeded in making all types
of
strings except the violin chanterelles, which were imported to France
in large
quantities and at prohibitive prices. Towards the end of the eighteenth
century, the French offered a prize to the maker or makers capable of
producing
a chanterelle equalling in quality the Neapolitan strings. The gold
medal went
to Philippe Savaresse, the Parisian string maker of Neapolitan origin
(!), who
brilliantly solved the problem: as had already been noted several
decades
earlier in De Lalande’s Voyage, the
"secret" was that in Naples and in other parts of Italy, but not in
France, the guts of rather young animals were used (42).
The
superiority of Italian strings was still
acknowledged at the end of the nineteenth century, as George Hart
testifies:
"Musical
strings are manufactured in Italy, Germany, France, and England. The
Italians
rank first, as in the past times, in this manufacture, their
proficiency being
evident in the three chief requisites for string, viz. high finish,
great
durably, and purity of sound. There are manufactories at Rome, Naples,
Padua,
and Verona, the separate characteristics of which are definitely marked
in
their produce. Those strings which are manufactured at Rome are
exceedingly
hard and brilliant, and exhibit a slight roughness of finish. The
Neapolitan
samples are smoother and softer than the Roman, and also whiter in
appearance.
Those of Padua are highly polished and durable, but frequently false.
The
Veronese strings are softer than the Paduan, and deeper in colour. The
variations described are distinct, and the more remarkable that all the
four
kinds are produced by one and the same nation; as, however, the raw
material is
identical throughout Italy, the process of manufacture must be looked
upon as
the real cause of the difference noticed. The German strings now rank
next to
the Italian, Saxony being the seat of manufacture. [...]. The French
take the
third place [...]. The English manufacture all qualities, but chiefly
the
cheaper kinds [...]." (43)
Hart's
assessment is confirmed by Luigi Forino
who, in 1905, singles out for mention:
“furono
celebri le fabbriche
di Berti, di Colla a Roma, di Ruffini a Napoli. In oggi sono assai
apprezzati i
prodotti di Righetti a Treviso, di Raffaele di Bartolomeo a Napoli, di
Nicola
Morante a Tavernale di Barra (Napoli), di Nicola Di Russo e di Raffaele
Pistola
Profeta (sucessore di Ruffini) a Salle (Pescara), di Luigi D'Orazi
anche a
Salle e di Conti a Musellaro (Rieti) [...]. All'Italia
ed alla Germania segue terza la
Francia che produce eccellenti corde soprattutto per arpa: le corde di
Lione
godono fama di ottime “. (44)
(The
famous firms were those of Berti and Colla
in Rome, of Rufini in Naples. Highly prized today are the products of
Righetti
in Treviso, Raffaele di Bartolomeq in Naples, Nicola Morante at
Tavernale di
Barra (Naples) of Nicola Di Russo and Raffaele Pistola Profeta
(Ruffini's heir)
at Salle (Pescara), of Luigi D'Orazi again at Salle and Conti at
Mugellano
(Rieti) [...].
After
Italy and Germany comes France, which
produces excellent strings above all for the harp; the strings of Lyon
have an
excellent reputation).
4.
Criteria for judging gut strings
What
were the criteria for distinguishing a
good string from a bad one? Before answering this question we must
stress that
the professional musicians seem to have developed an acute skill in
detecting
high quality material by touch and by
sight, and in distinguishing a false
string from one that vibrates well. These skills were transmitted
orally from
master to pupil, according to a tradition that probably began to
decline at
around the beginning of the twentieth century, when musicians tended to
trust
blindly in the products of the large string manufacturers.
(45)Thereafter the
main choices, in terms of manufacturing strategies and standard gauges,
tended
be imposed by the large firms that emerged at the turn of the century
in France
and Germany (but not in Italy). As for the Italian string makers,
before and
after the First World War most of them either closed shop or emigrated
(chiefly
to America), thus bringing to a rapid end a glorious tradition that had
lasted
for centuries.
The
existence of a deeply rooted oral tradition
probably goes a long way towards explaining why so little written
documentation
has survived on the criteria governing string choice. The following is
a list
of some of the relevant sources known to us:
Finally,
the last document cited here is
probably the last source testifying to the criteria adopted in the
nineteenth
century for choosing strings:
Le
corde tedesche hanno il
pregio della resistenza e, come tutti i prodotti di quella nazione,
hanno anche
quello del buon prezzo. Sono corde levigatissime, dure al tatto tanto
da
sembrare di acciaio: anche il suono risente di tale durezza. [...]
La
buona corda deve essere
non troppo liscia e bianca, ché 1'azione della pomice non giova
alla buona
sonorità: deve essere molto elastica e perfettamente cilindrica
[...]. Per
provare 1'elasticità basterà comprimere con le dita una
corda ancora
attorcigliata e fare 1'esperimento, per esempio, fra una tedesca ed una
italiana
(51).
(The
German strings have the merit of great
strength and, like all the products of that nation, have a good price.
They are
very smooth, and hard to the touch, to the extent that they seem to be
made of
steel. Even the tone is affected by such hardness. [...]
The
good string must not be too smooth and
white, for the use of pumice is not good for the sound. It must be
elastic and
perfectly cylindrical [...]. To test the elasticity it is sufficient to
press
with one's fingers a string in its bundle and then compare, for
example, a
German and Italian string).
5.
String types
The
strings for the violin and the other bowed
instruments from the beginning of the eighteenth century onwards can be
grouped
into two categories: the oiled all-gut strings with a medium-high twist
for the
medium-to-high registers; the overspun strings for the basses. If we
compare
the situation with that of the seventeenth century, we note that the
plain gut
strings specifically made for middle registers (Venice catlins) all but
disappeared, making it more difficult to obtain a balance in timbre and
dynamics between the higher all-gut higher strings and the overspun
basses.
This was particularly acute in the case of the bass-viol: to resolve
the
problem, the viol fourth ‘c‘ was a
loosely overspun string (a so-called demi-filée)
that ensured a smoother balance of tone between the all-gut third and
the fully
overspun fifth (52).
Already
from the late seventeenth century (see Gabbiani painting of 1685),
violin
stringing in Italy (and also in the German-speaking countries, starting
from
mid eighteenth century) would seem to have consisted of plain gut for
the first
three strings and an overspun string for the fourth only (53). As
regards
France, only one source clearly specifies that the third also (as well
as the
fourth) should be overspun, though the metal wire was to be wrapped in
such a
manner that there was no contact between the winds; in other words, it
was demi-filée (54). This, however, must not
lead us to exclude categorically the
potential use, in eighteenth-century
France, even of an all-gut third string.
Brossard
clearly specified to the reader the
effect that metal overspinning has on the thickness of the string:
"… Si elle est
simplement de boyeau, elle doit estre du moins le double plus
grosse que la 3e, mais si elle est toute filée d’argent
elle n’est que tres peu
plus grosse que la 3e …".
The
Italian stringing method (plain gut for the
first three strings plus a 4th wound string) would appear to have
remained
unchanged throughout the nineteenth century and the early years of the
twentieth, and it was probably only in the 1920s that the third string
of
natural gut gradually began to be replaced by strings overspun with
aluminum,
which were generally used together with higher strings made out of the
steel
for piano strings (55).
6.
THE PITCH STANDARD
An
important element in determining the working
tensions of violins of that time was
relates to the frequency of the pitch standards that were in use in the
eighteenth-nineteenth century, which varied considerably, and not only
from
place to place, but also in the same place from one period to another.
In
1834 the Congress of Stuttgart approved a
tuning standard of A -440 Hz, but this recommendation was not followed.
In 1858
the French government reported that the tuning standard of the Paris
Opéra and
the Opéra Italienne was A -448 Hz, but a year later a French
commission for the
standardization of tuning (composed of illustrious figures such as
Halévy,
Auber, Berlioz, Meyerbeer, Rossini and Thomas) – the first in
Europe –
established A- 435 Hz through an imperial decree.
In
England, orchestral pitch was A -424 Hz in
1813, but this was raised to 452 Hz in 1859. The supposed
nineteenth-century
tuning standard of A- 435 Hz seems to have been an illusion rather than
reality, and this is certainly true up to the second half of the
nineteenth
century. With the Congress of Vienna of 1885 the standard A was
officially
established at 870 simple vibrations, or 435 double Hz, a
recommendation that
was also adopted by the Italian government in 1887, but in fact the
tuning
standard continued to fluctuate. Only with the meeting called in 1939
by the
International Organisation for Standardisation was the situation
presented by
the jungle of different tuning standards clarified, proposing a
standard A of
440 Hz. The rest is recent history.
We
will consider, for the sake convenience, A
-435 Hz.
Here
are some Ellis’s tables (The
History of musical pitch, London 1880)
(from
Pietro Righini “La lunga storia del diapason”, ed. Berben, Ancona 1990):

Austria
France



Germany
7.
The string gauges
The
diameters are in turn unseparably linked to the number of guts used to
make a
string. Obviously a specific number of guts corresponds not to a
specific gauge
but to a mean value, with a degree of oscillation on either side: guts,
being
natural products, are never exactly the same size. This is a
fundamental
consideration that needs immediate clarification. Unlike today, when
mechanical
processes of rectification allow makers to produce a wide variety of
progressively scaled string sizes (e.g.: 0.60, 0.62, 0.64 mm, etc.), until the first decades of the
twentieth century
the ultimate caliber of the strings was determined almost exclusively
by the
number of guts used to make a string of a given diameter. As certain
documents
show (56) , the strings on sale were
distinguished not by their diameters in mm but by the number written on
the
packet which served to specify how many guts were used to make the
strings inside
the box.
String
makers had always endeavoured, to the
best of their ability, to standardize the quality and type of gut used:
by
using material from lambs of the same age, race and geographic area and
by
selecting the guts carefully before combining them. Nonetheless, there
was
inevitably a margin of uncertainty or variability in the diameter of
the
finished product. Nor could this be remedied by manual polishing (which
lacks
the precision of mechanical rectification), for there was a strong risk
of making
an untrue string, owing to the real difficulties of achieving perfect
rotundity
in the gut, with the added risk of excessive damage to the surface
fibers. In
fact, to avoid this risk, in late nineteenth century violin first
strings were
usually not polished at all (57).
The
diameter of a string made of three
lamb-guts, for example, could thus be represented by the Gaussian
curve. And
the same, of course, applies to strings of other gauges obtained by
combining
different numbers of fresh guts. The skill of a good string maker
consisted in
being able to manufacture a box of strings (which would be marked, for
example,
as "3") with a low oscillation around the mean diameter and to
reproduce this mean diameter in different batches of strings made at
different
times. Such abilities were understandably highly appreciated by
musicians. The
mark of a good maker was therefore the achievement of a narrow Gaussian
curve
for the string diameters.
An idea of the diameter
variance of strings made with the same number of guts can perhaps be
deduced
from the three degrees of tension George Hart recommends for a violin
first
string: they range from 0.65 to 0.73 mm. Inevitably, with the increase
in the
number of guts twisted together (to obtain thicker strings), there is a
corresponding
decrease in diameter variance, explained by a "mediation" effect
arising when a larger number of guts are used. With increasing numbers,
we also
note smaller differences in gauge between adjacent numbers (for
example,
between a string of ten guts and one of eleven).
Let us
now examine the historical information
from the string makers.
-The
first record of Italian string making
known to us would seem to be De Lalande's above-mentioned Voyage
en Italie, a work that contains very interesting information
on the most important string makers of the Abruzzi (58). Among them are
included Angelo and Domenico Antonio Angelucci, the owners of an
important
string factory in Naples in the early eighteenth century; Domenico
Antonio died
in 1765 (59). From this document we learn that making a violin first
string
requires three whole lamb guts of eight to nine months of age; the
bottom
string — i.e. the third, not the fourth which
was, as we shall see below, overspun — needs seven guts (60). The
use of three
guts in the making of a first string is also mentioned in a
do-it-yourself
recipe dating probably from the
beginning of the eighteenth century (61).
The
same tendency — that of using three,
sometimes four, whole guts for a violin E string — remains
constant throughout
the nineteenth century (62).
It
even appears in Maugin and Maigne's manual,
which cites information from the French stringmaker of Neapolitan
origin Henry
Savaresse: "Les chanterelles se
composent de 4, 5 ou 6 fils, selon la grosseur du boyau, et chaque fil
est
formé d'une moitié de boyau divisé dans sa
longueur. Les ‘mi’ de violon ont de
5 à 4 fils pleins, mais très fins. Les ‘la’
en ont le meme nombre, mais plus
forts. Quant
aux ‘re’, ils en ont de 6 à 7 pleins"
(The chanterelles are made of four, five or six strands, depending on
the
thickness of the gut, and each strand consists of a half gut cut
lengthwise.
The violin E strings have from three to four whole, but very thin,
threads. The
A strings have the same number, though stronger ones. As for the D
strings,
they have from six to seven full strands) (63). This is confirmed by
Philippe
Savaresse, who writes: "On a
longtemps attribué la supériorité des cordes de
Naples aux secrets de fabrique,
plus tard on l’a attribuée à la petite
espèce de moutons qui permettait de
faire les chantarelles à trois fils" (For a long time the
superiority
of Neapolitan strings was attributed to manufacturing secrets; later it
was
attributed to a type of sheep that allowed one to make chanterelles
with three
strands); further on he adds: "La
chantarelle ayant trois fils, si les autres cordes sont faites avec les
mêmes
intestins, la seconde aura 5 ou 6 fils et la troisième 8 et 9“
(With a
chanterelle of three strands, if the other strings are made with the
same gut,
the second will have five or six strands, the third eight and nine)
(64).
Clearly, when the gut is split in half, twice as many pieces are needed
to make
a string. One can therefore conclude, with a certain margin of
certainty, that
a violin chanterelle was universally made by the
Italian string
makers – but also by the French and Germans – from three
(sometimes four, if
thinner) whole guts of ca. one-year-old lambs or from double the amount
if
previously split in half.
But how
does we translate all of this into string diameters?
The
answer can be obtained both by experimental means and by examination of
the
historical documents.
As
regards the former method, we find that the manufacturing of strings
today from
three whole lamb guts normally leads to unsmoothed string diameters
ranging
between 0.66 and 0.75 mm.
And what
about the historical documentation?
The
most significant source from
eighteenth-century Italy offering useful evidence for determining
diameters is
undoubtedly the work of Count Giordano Riccati from Treviso. Riccati
was not
only an accomplished physicist in the field of acoustic and harmonic
theory,
but also an accomplished violinist. His book Delle
corde, which he began writing in 1740, accurately measures the
weight and
length of the first three gut strings of his violin: "Colle
bilancette dell'oro pesai tre porzioni egualmente lunghe piedi 1
½ veneziani delle tre corde del violino, che si chiamano il
tenore, il canto e
il cantino. Tralasciai d'indagare il peso della corda più grave;
perchè questa
non è come 1'altre di sola minugia, ma suole circondarsi con un
sottil filo di
rame" (Using gold-weighing scales, I weighed three portions, each 1
½
Venetian feet long, of the three violin strings, those called the
tenore, canto
and cantino. I
omitted the weight of the lowest string,
because unlike the others this is not of gut only, but is usually
surrounded
with a thin copper wire) (66). Assuming the mean specific weight of gut
to be
1.3 gr/cm3, the diameters of the E, A and D are: 0.70, 0.90
and 1.10
mm. The same diameter of the E string is also found on an extant violin
chanterelle of silk (silk having approximately the same density as
gut). This
string, which had never been used, dates from the very end of the
eighteenth
century and is today preserved in the Académie de Sciences in
Paris along with
some harp strings (67).
A
third possible source of evidence is a
"completely intact" violin first string, found in a case with a
violin of Nicolas Lambert of 1765 (though this date cannot be verified)
and
thought to have "never left its case
for at least a century" (68). The string, which could well date
from
the end of the eighteenth century, has a high twist and a diameter of
0.71-0.72
mm. Further evidence consists of some violin E strings belonging to the
present
author. They are preserved in their original boxes and date from the
early
years of the twentieth century. They are highly twisted and have
diameters
ranging from 0.66 to 0.68 mm. This confirms the hypothesis
that the manufacturing tradition outlined earlier remained consistent.
Paganini’s
strings. Among the evidence in the Palazzo Rosso
inventories in Genoa, these finds
(more details in Recercare XII, 2000, pp.137-47)
consist of a violin bridge, two bows (one broken at various
points), a
box of rosin made by Vuillaume, and a roll of gut strings in a reasonable state of
preservation.
It on
this last item that our attention is
focused. For it is the first, if not only, instance of gut string
samples that
can be dated with some certainty: in this case to the early decades of
the
nineteenth century. The material that we inspected, in April 2001, was
preserved in an envelope that had already been opened by its
discoverers. It
bears the stationer’s stamp of the “Cartoleria
Rubartelli Genova”, has a seal of red sealing wax showing the
symbol of the
City of Genoa and a manuscript inscription in black ink: “Antiche corde del Violino di Nicolò Paganini”.
We
measured the string gauges with a
micrometer; the strings can be assumed to be two “Ds”,
three “As” and two “Es”:
it would seem likely that they are segments taken from longer lengths
and cut
to size for the violin. They are straw-yellow in colour, fragile,
slightly
wrinkly and intact (i.e. never used).
Below
are the diameter ranges found over all
the samples:
|
String |
Diameter |
Note |
|
E |
0.70-0.72 mm |
medium twist |
|
A |
0.87-0.89 mm |
high twist |
|
A* |
0.80-0.83 mm |
high twist |
|
D |
1.15-1.16 mm |
high twist |
*this
measurement was found on only one segment
of string
Other
historical data on Italian strings can be
derived from certain English violin methods from the late nineteenth
century.
Huggins, for example, (69) writes the following:
“The
measures of a set of Ruffini's strings
were found to be:”
|
1st |
0.0265 inch. |
[.67 mm] |
|
2nd |
0.0355 inch. |
[.90 mm] |
|
3rd |
0.0460 inch. |
[1.17 mm] |
|
4th |
1.41 grm. |
/ |
Ruffini,
the greatest of the late
nineteenth-century Neapolitan makers (and not a violinist working in
England,
as Segerman has suggested) (70), exported his excellent products to
cities all
over Europe. Strings made in Naples, and particularly by Ruffini, were
in great
demand in Victorian London: "The
best strings in the market to-day are imported from Signor Andrea
Ruffini, of
Naples, which are sold by all the leading violin-dealers in London
(71)". As can be noted, Ruffini's strings — about whose diameters
Huggins
writes: "these were found to be in
about the same relative proportion to each other as the sizes indicated
on the
gauges sold by several makers (72)" — coincide almost exactly
with
those calculated by Riccati over a century earlier. This should come as
no
surprise if we consider that neither the primary resource (the gut of
lambs
aged eight to nine months) nor manufacturing procedures had undergone
significant change since De Lalande’s day, either in Italy or in
France. In all
likelihood this was equally true for the other Italian cities renowned
for
their string production, such as Padua and Rome; for all the Italian
manufacturers
would appear to have descended from the same line of string makers,
those of
Salle, Musellaro and Bolognano, who later spread over the rest of the
country
(73).
The
strings sold in London by George Hart,
Edward Heron-Allen and Bishopp, all probably imported from Italy, had
the
following diameters (Hart uses the terms "small, medium and
thick"), which can be derived from the
tensions in pounds given in their tables: (74)
|
Hart |
Heron-Allen |
Bishopp |
|
0.65 / 0.72 / 0.73 mm |
0.69 mm |
0.61 / 0.68 / 0.69 mm |
|
0.84 / 0.89 / 0.90 mm |
0.93 mm |
0.80 / 0.85 / 0,85
mm |
|
1.14 / 1.23 / 1.25 mm |
1.22 mm |
1.08 / 1.16 / 1.19 mm |
Assuming
that the gut used to make the violin
E, A and D strings is of exactly the same type and has the same amount
of
twist, then the number of guts used and the final diameter are, at
least in
theory, mathematically related (75). Given that the first string of the
violin
tended to be made of at least three whole lamb-guts (as we saw above)
and had a
mean gauge of, say, 0.70 mm, then the theoretical diameters of the
second and
third strings — of respectively five-six and eight-nine guts
— are 0.90-1.00
and 1.14-1.21 mm (76). The correspondence with the evidence of Riccati,
Savaresse, Ruffini and other French sources is remarkable and seems to
confirm
our hypothesis that manufacturing procedures were standardized in both
Italy
and France (though for France, as we saw earlier, this would probably
apply as
from the beginning of the nineteenth century) (77).
Given
that the string length was already
sufficiently standardized, the variations in violin working tensions in
the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries seem to be mainly the result of
variations
in pitch standards (78); to a lesser extent they can be attributed to
the
personal preferences of those who, with the aid of a string-gauge,
opted for
the larger diameters contained in the boxes (each box of first, second
and/or
third strings would contain several dozen strings soaked in olive oil,
each
with the same number of strands) (79). To support the hypothesis that
during
the early decades of the nineteenth century the tension of violin
strings
radically increased merely as the result of an increase in string
diameters,
some scholars use the data from Spohr's string-gauge (80). The marks
indicated
on the gauge —18, 23, 31 and 25— represent the diameters of
the E, A, D and the
overspun G (the external diameter, probably). As the system of
conversion is
not known, They thought fit to refer to a gauge system still used today
by
certain string makers such as Pirastro: a system that already existed
in the
nineteenth century and that assigns 20 "grades" to each millimeter.
Accordingly, a string marked as 20 P M would have a diameter of 1 mm
(20 x 5 =
100 hundredths of a millimeter). In this way the following calibers
were
calculated: E = 0.90 mm; A = 1.15 mm; D = 1.55 mm and G = 2.22 mm (like
equivalent solid gut).
In our
opinion, this interesting hypothesis is
inconsistent with Spohrs writings, for he not only recommends Italian
strings
over those made in Germany (which he found too stiff), but also
suggests
choosing a "light" stringing. And that is not all. If we consider the
sizes on his string-gauge illustrated in the text and the position of
the
markings for measuring the strings, we clearly see that on the basis of
the
proportion between the total length of the slot and the approximate
estimate of
its width at the opening — ca. 2 mm — the distance of the E
marking shows a
width of ca. 0.70 mm rather than the 0.90 mm suggested by Segerman.
Therefore
the correct ratio is more likely to be a factor of 4, and not a factor
of 5,
which in any case is based on the subdivision of a modern unit of
measurement
and not the (unknown) unit of Spohr’ s day (81).
The calibers derived from
Spohr's gauge should therefore probably be E = 0.72 mm; A = 0.92 mm; D
= 1.24
mm; G = 1.00 mm (corresponding, in our opinion, to the external
diameter):
results that are evidently in line with the preceding data.
It will have surely not escaped
the observant reader that the string
diameters hitherto described do not at all lead to stringings with a
system of
equal tension but instead to one of the scaled type (for comparison, an
arrangement in equal tension, starting for example from a chanterelle E of 0.70 mm, would give the following
diameters: E = 0.70 mm, A = 1.05
mm, D = 1.60 mm).
Today it is commonly held that a
correct stringing for
the violin or another instrument must have all the strings at the same
tension
(in other words, with the same kg), but in fact this is not at all how
things
stand.
Before pursuing the analysis of
the documentation we
must therefore tackle this fundamental point,
for it affects the way we reconstruct the stringings of all the plucked
and
bowed instruments of the Renaissance and Baroque – not only the
violin.
Let
us begin our discussion of this
subject with the concept of ‘tactile
sensation of stiffness’. For it needs to be stressed that
when a musician
applying the pressure of his fingers evaluates the tension of the
strings of
his instrument, he is actually not evaluating the kg of tension at all,
but
instead the sensation of tension,
which is quite another matter.
It
comes natural to ask what criteria
were used to evaluate a stringing in the past. This, for example, is
what
certain seventeenth-century treatises write about the lute:
"Of setting the right sizes of
strings upon
the lute. [...] But to our purpose: these double bases likewise must
neither be
stretched too hard, nor too weake, but that they may according to your
feeling
in striking with your thombe and finger equally counterpoyse the trebles"
(82).
“When you
stroke all the stringes with your thumbe you must feel an even stiffnes
which
proceeds from the size of the stringes"
(83).
"The
very principal observation in the stringing of a lute. Another general
observation must be this, which indeed is the chiefest; viz. that what
siz'd
lute soever, you are to string, you must so suit your strings, as (in
the
tuning you intend to set it at) the strings may all stand, at a
proportionable,
and even stiffness, otherwise there will arise two great
inconveniences; the
one to the performer, the other to the auditor. And here note, that
when we
say, a lute is not equally strung, it is, when some strings are stiff,
and some
slack" (84).
From the treatises of the time
one deduces therefore
that the criterion for choosing the strings in a given stringing
responded
above all to principles of empiricism: the strings were expected to be
neither
too tense nor too slack but to have a just
degree of tension; and what is important, this tension was expected to
be
evenly distributed among all the strings. It goes without saying that
any
judgement of the degree of tension is merely subjective. A different
matter, on
the other hand, is the search for evenness of tension between the
strings,
which is the true, shared criterion of reference.
In
conclusion, when the early documents use the words
‘equal tension’ (and we find them until at least the end of
the eighteenth
century) they consistently mean ‘equal feel’ and not equal
kg, as instead is
done today.
A pertinent example is the
following passage from Galeazzi: "la tensione dev'esser per
tutte quattro le
corde la stessa, perchè se l’una fosse più
dell'altra tesa, ciò produrrebbe
sotto le dita, e sotto 1'arco una notabile diseguaglianza, che molto
pregiudicherebbe all'eguaglianza della voce" (the tension must be
the
same for all four strings, because if one were more tense than another,
that
would create under the fingers, and under the bow, a considerable
inequality
very prejudicial to the equality of tone) (85). Here tension clearly means feel; as is
equally plain in Bartoli's treatise: "Quanto
una corda è piu vicina al principio della sua tensione, tanto
ivi e piu tesa.
[...] Consideriamo hora una qualunque corda d' un liuto: ella ha due
principj
di tensione ugualissimi nella potenza, e sono i bischieri dall’un
capo, e '1
ponticello dal1'altro; adunque per lo sopradetto, ella è tanto
piu tesa, quanto
piu lor s'avvicina: e per conseguente, e men tesa nel mezzo" (The
closer a string is to the beginning of its tension, the tenser it is. [...] Just consider any lute
string. It has two beginnings of tension
that are absolutely equal in power: the pegs at one end, the bridge at
the
other. As a result, it will be tenser the nearer it is to those points
and less
tense in the middle) (86).
To try and give some kind of scientific expression to the
concepts of ‘even stiffness’, ‘equally
strung’, etc. described in the treatises is in itself a somewhat
complex
matter, both because there is no conclusive proof that by
‘feel’ they all meant
the same thing and also because that ‘feel’ can be also
understood in a, so to
speak, broader sense.
A preliminary
distinction (when evalutuating the degree of ‘tension’) can
be made, for
example, by deciding whether in pressing down on the strings it is
directly the
fingers or the bow hairs, for in the latter case the thicker strings
can oppose
more resistance to the rubbing movement, thereby giving the musician
the
sensation of a certain unevenness. To resolve this specific problem the
use of
scaled tension was justified on the violin by Plessiard (87).
In the likely
hypothesis that it is the fingers (and not the bow) that are required
to assess
the tension of the strings, we can again understand ‘feel’
in at least two
ways. The first (that commonly accepted, by the present writer as well)
considers the effort required to impart a certain meaure of lateral
displacement to a string, which obviously opposes the pressure exerted.
If we
replace the finger with a weight acting at the same point, we can
exactly
measure the quantity of lateral displacement for every string examined.
The
second hypothesis, introduced by Segerman (88), considers that a thinner string, which digs more deeply
into the finger tip pressing down on it, would produce a greater sensation of tension than a thicker
string, which, having a wider surface, does not ‘dig into’
the finger to the
same extent. According to this second interpretation, therefore,
‘equal feel’
involves more tension in kg in the thicker strings than in the thinner.
As
Segerman himself stresses, we have never yet had practical evidence
that the
bass strings have more tension than the higher ones.
Let us therefore examine the
first hypothesis better: in other words, that which considers
‘feel’ to be the
sensation of resistance given by a string pressed by the fingers and
‘equal
feel’ to mean that this sensation is the same also for tuned
strings of
different diameters; in other words, that when the same weight acts at
the same
point, the lateral displacement encountered is the same. The vibrating
length
obviously has to remain constant.
According to the laws of physics
such a conception of equal feel corresponds
exactly to a stringing of equal
tension (89). That is true, however, on condition that the initial
diameters of
the strings (as measured with the strings not yet mounted) remain
unvaried even
after they have been tuned, i.e. under tension. In pratice, however,
and
especially with gut, this never happens: once the strings have been
tuned to
the required note, their respective calibres have dimished in different
ways.
This happens because the material possesses a certain longitudinal
strain which
is related also to the diameter (which in gut is divided into
recoverable
strain and non recoverable strain: in practice once a new string has
been
placed under tension, it no longer reattains its initial diameter at
rest).
This reduction of calibre will therefore also imply a corresponding
reduction
in working tension. It is observed that the thinner strings lengthen
more and
hence diminish in calibre by a greater percentage than the thicker ones
(it is
generally known that the thinner strings require many more twists of
the peg
than the thick ones). And so it also follows that, after tuning, the
respective
working tensions (established as identical to start with) will no
longer be
equal but scaled: in other words, the thinner the string, the lesser
the
tension.
As a result, therefore, the
‘feel’ between the strings is no longer equal
(because the tensions are now different) but instead unbalanced in
favour
of the thicker strings. In other words, on the thicker strings more
pressure
from the fingers is needed to obtain the same quantity of lateral
displacement
as on the thinner ones. Hence according to the laws of physics, if the
tensions
are not equal, nor is the lateral displacement; nor, therefore, is the
feel
even.
As an example, we tested two gut
strings of medium twist calculated
to have the same tension (8,3 kg at a pitch of 440 Hz) when brought to
the
required pitch (the violin ‘E’ and ‘D’ in this
case). The vibrating length is
obviously the same for both (33 cm). We obtained calibres of 0.65 mm
for the
‘E’ and 1.45 mm for the ‘D’ when measured at
rest, i.e. not under tension. Once
they had been tuned and stabilized, we proceeded to measure their
diameters:
the calibre of the ‘E’ had reduced to 0.62 mm, whereas
there was no noticeable
drop in the ‘D’, even when measured by a micrometer. Hence
while the thinner
string had dimished in diameter by 5%, the thicker string be considered
as
unvaried for practical purposes. These values are of an experimental
type:
which means that strings made in different ways may provide different
percentages of reduction. The constant factor, however, is that –
manufacturing
techniques being equal – it is always the thinner string that
contracts more.
In our case the tensions of the strings stretched on the instrument
reduced to
7.6 kg on the ‘E’ and 8.3 kg on the ‘D’
compared to a calculation value of 8.3
kg in both cases.
In order to have ‘E’ and ‘G’
strings that retain the kg decided on initially when tuned to pitch,
one must
therefore increase the initial gauge of just the ‘E’ by 5%,
i.e. 0.68 mm. When
making the traditional calculation to obtain the tensions of this
second pair
of strings ‘at rest’ one detects a trend of the scaled
type: namely 9.2 kg for
the ‘E’ string and 8.3 kg for the ‘D’. To sum
up: the experiment shows that
calibers of 0.65 and 1.45 mm lead only to a theoretical
state of equal tension; conversely, if one uses diameters of 0.68
and 1.45
mm, once the strings have been tuned (i.e. in traction) they will
assume a new,
and more reduced, diameter situation, such as would exactly produce
equal
tension, i.e. equal feel.
This situation was in fact
verified – with the assistance of a
micrometer – in a second experiment carried out on this second
pair of tuned
strings.
If one wants a stringing of
equal feel, it is therefore necessary to use criteria of scaling when
selecting
the diameters of strings ‘at rest’ (i.e. not in tension).
As mentioned earlier,
one advantage of scaled tension is that
the increasing attrition encountered when moving the bow from thin to
thick strings
(because of the larger contact surface) is much less noticeable.
If we respect the condition that
there should be equal tension between the various strings at pitch, one
concludes that scaled tension and equal tension (measured at
pitch) express the same thing: equal feel.
Although the test reported in
the first version of this article (in Recercare
IX of 1997) produced substatially correct results, the interpretation
of the
data turned out to be wrong. The same consideration applies to another
example
cited there: that of an elastic band and steel string whose diameters
were
calculated to have the same tension values to start with. When tuned to
the
same pitch, only the elastic band will reduce considerably in section
to assume
a new, lower state of tension, in contrast with the unextendable
steel string. At this point, therefore, the feel will
be different.
Let us
now turn to the cases of Serafino Di
Colco and Leopold Mozart. (90)
Di
Colco writes: "Siano da
proporzionarsi ad un violino le corde […] distese,
e distirate da pesi uguali […]. Se toccandole, ò
suonandole con l’arco
formeranno un violino benissimo accordato, saranno bene proporzionate,
altrimenti converrà mutarle tante volte, sin tanto che
l’accordatura riesca di
quinta due, per due, che appunto tale è l’accordatura del
violino" (The strings are
to be proportioned to the
violin [...] extended, and stretched by equal weights [...]. If by touching them or playing
them with a bow they form an excellently
tuned violin, they can be considered well proportioned, otherwise you
will need
to change them as many times as necessary to obtain fifths between
pairs of
strings, which is precisely the tuning of the violin).
Barbieri believes that in all likelihood these considerations
are purely
speculative. Mozart, on the other hand, drawing on the same concepts,
suggests
attaching equal weights to each pair of strings: if the diameters are
well
chosen, the open strings will give fifths; otherwise the diameters will
need
changing until that result is obtained.
-The
cases of Mozart and Di Colco can lead to a certain interpretative
confusion.
Indeed it has been attempted to conclude hastily that they are
stringings in
equal tension: as if they had been worked out by ‘sitting at a
desk’, so to
speak, i.e. based on formulas.
Appearances, however, are misleading. The test recommended by Mozart takes place in conditions of equal weights (i.e. equal tension) that already work on the strings. This situation therefore does not at all replicate that of apparent ‘equal tension’ obtained by means of calculation by establishing the same kg in the formula for the strings with the purpose of obtaining all the diameters of the stringing (a tension that, as we saw, will be diversified because of the differences in the thinning of each string after tuning). In his case the pairs of strings are chosen in a state of actual traction, not of calculations done on paper. Seeing that this is a situation of true dynamic equal tension (because the weight always rema