:: Historical Notes ::

The fifteenth century may be considered as the period when the art of making instruments of the Viol class took root in Italy, a period rich in men labouring in the cause of Art. The long list of honoured names connected with Art in Italy during the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries is a mighty roll-call indeed! The memory dwells upon the number of richly-stored minds that have, within the limits of these three centuries, bequeathed their art treasures to all time; and if here we cannot suppress a comparison of the art world of the present Italy with that of the periods named, still less can we fail to be astonished as we discover the abyss into which Italy must be judged to have sunk in point of merit, when measured by the high standard which in former days she set herself. But perhaps the greatest marvel of all is the rapidity of the decadence when it once set in, as it did immediately after the culminating point of artistic fame had been reached.

To reflect for a moment upon the many famous men in Italy engaged in artistic vocations contemporary with the great Viol and Violin makers cannot fail to be interesting to the lovers of our instrument, for it has the effect of surrounding their favourite with an interest extending beyond its own path. It also serves to make prominent the curious fact that the art of Italian Violin-making emerged from its chrysalis state when the painters of Italy displayed their greatest strength of genius, and perfected itself when the Fine Arts of Italy were cast in comparative darkness. It is both interesting and remarkable that the art of Italian Violin-making—which in its infancy shared with all the arts the advantage attending the revival of art and learning—should have been the last to mature and die.

Whilst the artist, scientist, and musician, Leonardo da Vinci, was painting, inventing, and singing his sonnets to the accompaniment of his Lute; whilst Raphael was executing the commands of Leo X., and Giorgio was superintending the manufacture of his inimitable majolica ware, the Viol-makers of Bologna were designing their instruments and assimilating them to the registers of the human voice, in order that the parts of Church and chamber madrigals might be played instead of sung, or that the voices might be sustained by the instruments.¹

1 The importance of this epoch in its bearings upon instrumental music generally, and stringed instrument music in particular, can hardly be over-estimated. It may be said that in the Middle Ages no written music for instruments existed. The melodies and accompaniments produced from instruments were either extemporaneous or parrot-like imitations of vocal music. Madrigals and a few dances constituted the food upon which instruments were nursed until towards the close of the sixteenth century, when Gabrielli, or a contemporary musician, prepared a special and distinct aliment, the outcome of which is found in the symphonies of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven.

If we turn to the days of Gasparo da Salò, Maggini, and Andrea Amati, we find that while they were sending forth their Fiddles, Titian was painting his immortal works, and Benvenuto Cellini, the greatest goldsmith of his own or any age, was setting the jewels of popes and princes, and enamelling the bindings of their books. Whilst the master-minds of Antonio Stradivari and Giuseppe Guarneri del Gesù were occupied with those instruments which have caused their names to be known throughout the civilised world (and uncivilised too, for many thousands of Violins are yearly made into which their cherished names are thrust, after which they are despatched for the negro’s use), Canaletto was painting his Venetian squares and canals, Venetians whose names are unrecorded were blowing glass of wondrous form and beauty. At the same time, in the musical world, Corelli was writing his jigs and sarabands, Geminiani penning one of the first instruction books for the Violin, and Tartini dreaming his “Sonata del Diavolo”; and while Guadagnini and the stars of lesser magnitude were exercising their calling, Viotti, the originator of a school of Violin-playing, was writing his concertos, and Boccherini laying the foundation of classical chamber-music of a light and pleasing character. It would be easy to continue this vein of thought, were it not likely to become irksome to the reader; enough has been said to refresh the memory as to the flourishing state of Italian art during these times. What a mine of wealth was then opened up for succeeding generations! and how curious is the fact that not only the Violin, but its music, has been the creature of the most luxurious age of art; for in that golden age musicians contemporary with the great Violin-makers were writing music destined to be better understood and appreciated when the Violins then made should have reached their maturity.

The Violin -Its Famous Makers and Their Imitators
by George Hart
Published in 1909

The year succeeding this, Ole Bull again visited the United States, and spent five years here. The return to America did not altogether contemplate the pursuit of music, for there had been for a good while boiling in his brain, among other schemes, the project of a great Scandinavian colony, to be established in Pennsylvania under his auspices. He purchased one hundred and twenty-five thousand acres of land on the Susquehanna, and hundreds of sturdy Norwegians flocked over to the land of milk and honey thus auspiciously opened to them. Timber was felled, ground cleared, churches, cottages, school-houses built, and everything was progressing desirably, when the ambitious colonizer discovered that the parties who sold him the land were swindlers without any rightful claim to it. With the unbusiness-like carelessness of the man of genius, our artist had not investigated the claims of others on the property, and he thus became involved in a most perplexing and expensive suit at law. He attempted to punish the rascals who so nearly ruined him, but they were shielded behind the quips and quirks of the law, and got away scot free. Ole Bull’s previously ample means were so heavily drained by this misfortune that he was compelled to take up his violin again and resume concert-giving, for he had incurred heavy pecuniary obligations that must be met. Driven by the most feverish anxiety, he passed from town to town, playing almost every night, till he was stricken down by yellow fever in New Orleans. His powerful frame and sound constitution, fortified by the abstemious habits which had marked his whole life of queer vicissitudes, carried him through this danger safely, and he finally succeeded in honorably fulfilling the responsibility which he had assumed toward his countrymen.

For many recent years Ole Bull, when not engaged in concert-giving in Europe or America, has resided at a charming country estate on one of the little islands off the coast of Norway. His numerous farewell concert tours are very well known to the public, and would have won him ridicule, had not the genial presence and brilliant talents of the Norwegian artist been always good for a renewed and no less cordial welcome. He frequently referred to the United States in latter years as the beloved land of his adoption. One striking proof of his preference was, at all events, displayed in his marriage to an American lady, Miss Thorpe, of Wisconsin, in 1870. One son was the fruit of this second marriage, and Mr. and Mrs. Ole Bull divided their time between Norway and the United States.

The magnificent presence of Ole Bull, as if of some grand old viking stepped out of his armor and dressed in modern garb, made a most picturesque personality. Those who have seen him can never forget him. The great stature, the massive, stalwart form, as upright as a pine, the white floating locks framing the ruddy face, full of strength and genial humor, lit up by keen blue eyes—all these things made Ole Bull the most striking man in personnel among all the artists who have been familiar to our public.

While Ole Bull will not be known in the history of art as a great scientific musician, there can be no doubt that his place as a brilliant and gifted solo player will stand among the very foremost. As a composer he will probably be forgotten, for his compositions, which made up the most of his concert programmes, were so radically interwoven with his executive art as a virtuoso that the two can not be dissevered. No one, unless he should be inspired by the same feelings which animated the breast of Ole Bull, could ever evolve from his musical tone-pictures of Scandinavian myth and folk-lore the weird fascination which his bow struck from the strings. Ole Bull, like Paganini, laid no claim to greatness in interpreting the violin classics. His peculiar title to fame is that of being, aside from brilliancy as a violin virtuoso, the musical exponent of his people and their traditions. He died at Bergen, Norway, on August 18, 1880, in the seventy-first year of his age, and his funeral services made one of the most august and imposing ceremonials held for many a long year in Norway.

-Great Violinists and Pianists,
by George T. Ferris
Published in 1891

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Ole Bull’s first visit to America was in 1843, and the impression produced by his playing was, for manifest causes, even greater than that created in Europe. He was the first really great violinist who had ever come to this country for concert purposes, and there was none other to measure him by. There were no great traditions of players who had preceded him; there were no rivals like Spohr, Paganini, and De Bériot to provoke comparisons. In later years artists discovered that this country was a veritable El Dorado, and regarded an American tour as indispensable to the fulfillment of a well-rounded career. But, when Ole Bull began to play in America, his performances were revelations, to the masses of those that heard him, of the possibilities of the violin. The greatest enthusiasm was manifested everywhere, and, during the three years of this early visit, he gave repeated performances in every city of any note in America. The writer of this little work met Ole Bull a few years ago in Chicago, and heard the artist laughingly say that, when he first entered what was destined to be such a great city, it was little more than a vast mudhole, a good-sized village scattered over a wide space of ground, and with no building of pretension except Fort Dearborn, a stockade fortification.

Our artist returned to Europe in 1846, and for five years led a wandering life of concert-giving in England, France, Holland, Germany, Italy, and Spain, adding to his laurels by the recognition everywhere conceded of the increased soundness and musicianly excellence of his playing. It was indeed at this period that Ole Bull attained his best as a virtuoso. He had been previously seduced by the example of Paganini, and in the attempt to master the more strange and remote difficulties of the instrument had often laid himself open to serious criticism. But Ole Bull gradually formed a style of his own which was the outcome of his passion for descriptive and poetic playing, and the correlative of the mode of composition which he adopted. In still later years Ole Bull seems to have returned again to what might be termed claptrap and trickery in his art, and to have desired rather to excite wonder and curiosity than to charm the sensibilities or to satisfy the requirements of sound musical taste.

In 1851 Ole Bull returned home with the patriotic purpose of establishing a strictly national theatre. This had been for a long time one of the many dreams which his active imagination had conjured up as a part of his mission. He was one of the earliest of that school of reformers, of whom we have heard so much of late years, that urge the readoption of the old Norse language—or, what is nearest to it now, the Icelandic—as the vehicle of art and literature. In the attempt to dethrone Dansk from its preeminence as the language of the drama, Ole Bull signally failed, and his Norwegian theatre, established at Bergen, proved only an insatiable tax on money-resources earned in other directions.

-Great Violinists and Pianists,
by George T. Ferris
Published in 1891

“I never was happier than when I felt sure that the prize was mine. Originally the bridge was of boxwood, with two fishes carved on it—that was the zodiacal sign of my birthday, February—which was a good sign. Oh, the good times that violin and I have had! As to its history, Ehehazek told me that in 1809, when Innspruck was taken by the French, the soldiers sacked the town. This violin had been placed in the Innspruck Museum by Cardinal Aldobrandi at the close of the sixteenth century. A French soldier looted it, and sold it to Ehehazek for a trifle. This is the same violin that I played on, when I first came to the United States, in the Park Theatre. That was on Evacuation day, 1843. I went to the Astor House, and made a joke—I am quite capable of doing such things. It was the day when John Bull went out and Ole Bull came in. I remember that at the very first concert one of my strings broke, and I had to work out my piece on the three strings, and it was supposed I did it on purpose.” Ole Bull valued this instrument as beyond all price, and justly, for there have been few more famous violins than the Treasury violin of Innspruck, under which name it was known to all the amateurs and collectors of the world.

During his various art wanderings through Europe, Ole Bull made many friends among the distinguished men of the world. A dominant pride of person and race, however, always preserved him from the slightest approach to servility. In 1838 he was presented to Carl Johann, king of Sweden, at Stockholm. The king had at that time a great feeling of bitterness against Norway, on account of the obstinate refusal of the people of that country to be united with Sweden under his rule. At the interview with Ole Bull the irate king let fall some sharp expressions relative to his chagrin in the matter.

“Sire,” said the artist, drawing himself up to the fullness of his magnificent height, and looking sternly at the monarch, “you forget that I have the honor to be a Norwegian.”

The king was startled by this curt rebuke, and was about to make an angry reply, but smoothed his face and answered, with a laugh:

“Well! well! I know you d—d sturdy fellows.” Carl Johann afterward bestowed on Ole Bull the order of Gustavus Vasa.

-Great Violinists and Pianists,
by George T. Ferris
Published in 1891

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