German Violinmaking: The Hopf Family

While early members of this dynasty created violins that have endured for hundreds of years, later industrious Hopfs also were successful at mass production.

If you peruse fine violin shops and auction sites online, a violin maker name you could well run into (depending on your price range preferences) is “Hopf.” An authentic Hopf, perhaps dating back to the early 18th century, should be available for under $10,000 US, sometimes as low as $2,000 US.

But the operative word when considering a Hopf violin is "authentic." And even if it is from the dynasty of Hopf family of luthiers, where the claim of authenticity may be genuine, that doesn't necessarily mean it is of the greatest quality. Somewhere between 18 and 40 people were members of the Hopf empire, which operated from the late 17^th century on through the late-19^th century in Klingenthal, Vogtland (now the Czech Republic) - which means that there is a range of quality from one Hopf family generation to the next.

Some of the earlier members of the Hopf family did indeed craft instruments of high quality. Those were made by founding member Caspar Hopf (1650-1711), son David Christian Hopf (birth and death dates unclear), or the grandson, David (1762-1786). They produced fine German cellos, violas and violins.

The Hopf family members overall were in fact quite industrious, literally building thousands of instruments under the family signature in a production-line assembly. One history of the House of Hopf describes the guild of luthiers (Hopfs and non-Hopfs) established by Caspar Hopf as follows:

The guild here very quickly became ‘industrialized’, with individual scroll cutters, back carvers, rib makers, even peg makers … The work produced by the family is superficially in the Stainer style, but the pattern is a little degenerate, with noticeably squared-off upper and lower bouts. As in Mittenwald, other families joined the numerous Hopfs; the Dörfel, Hoyer and Glass families being particularly significant. But by the mid nineteenth century, the boom had bust, and in 1887, the Klingenthal guild ceased to exist, having overseen the production of tens of thousands of instruments in the previous two centuries, many with the heavy brand of 'Hopf' on the back.

A genuine Hopf would need to be examined and authenticated by a credible violin dealer. If it checks out, here are some characteristics of the tones from contemporaneous descriptions: “Bright, clear, rich in overtones;” “warm, dark, rounded;” “mature, silvery;” “large, strong;” “warm, mature, resonant;” and “warm, quiet.”

So while finding a Hopf in your grandmother’s attic might not exactly be a discovery of riches, it is an indication the violin is old, it likely was made in Europe, and it represents a history of mass music appreciation in the working and middle classes of Europe and the New World in a time that preceded recorded music. 

Provenance and a Fine Instrument’s Value

Some of the finest violins, cellos, basses and other stringed instruments are now 100s of years old and of great value. Knowing their history matters.

There are several factors that determine the value of a violin, and for that matter, all stringed instruments. The maker is of course a large part of that, as that tells contemporary musicians and dealers much about the craftsmanship and, as a point of beginning, its provenance.

Other factors are the current condition of the instrument; if it needs repair, knowing the extent of that repair is useful in establishing value. Aesthetics, such as the condition of the varnish, matter. But as any virtuoso will tell you, every instrument has a personality, a tonality and resonance, and playability such that there is rarely if ever an “apples to apples” comparison between instruments in the upper echelons of quality and value.

But where it comes to provenance, an essential part of establishing both value and history, there are many speed bumps on the way to knowing who owned the instrument and when. The key reasons for this are as follows:

Labels are misleading. While the acclaimed luthiers that include Stradivarius, Guarneri, et al. did label most of their instruments, it was in homage to their work that other, lesser violinmakers also labeled theirs as Strads, del Gesus, and other such names. It was not copyright infringement as we know it today, it was an acceptable way to say “in the style of.” And over time, there were forgers who have tried to pass off their work as if from the original masters. On the finest of instruments from Cremona, Venice, Mittenwald and other cities known for great violins, the presence of a label is merely a starting point in understanding provenance.

Documents are only as good as the last document creator. Provenance is based on a due diligence process that seeks out photographs of the instrument (although, those Strads were made about 200 years before photography was invented), copies of certificates of authenticity, and any kind of contemporaneous written documentation (for example, a Klotz violin is believed to have been played by a teenage Mozart is documented, somewhat, in a letter showing it was purchased from Mozart’s sister). But forgeries of those documents have to be identified; fortunately, the forensic tools for doing so today can rout out falsehoods of the past – and often confirm that which is authentic.

Wars and plunderers. The evil nature of Germany’s Third Reich included an organized effort to assemble stolen musical instruments – from Jews and others sent to concentration camps or who escaped the reach of the Nazis with little ability to transport their fine stringed instruments. Called the Special Task Force for Music (Sonderstab Musik), the Fuhrer envisioned a post-War university in Linz, Austria where 75 confiscated antique violins and cellos (two Strads and one Amati among them) would be played. The return of these instruments to their rightful owners or heirs has taken many decades, since 1945, and is still incomplete.

The Art Loss Register (Artloss.com) helps reunite rightful owners with their instruments, as well as artwork that was stolen or by other means misplaced.

Owners aren’t necessarily the musicians anymore. A phenomenon in the latter 20th century and the early 21st century has been the tremendous valuation increase for the finest and most rare instruments. It has had the effect of putting ownership of these violins, cellos, and other instruments out of reach of most musicians. Instead, it created a model of rich owners who lend the instruments on a semi-permanent basis to virtuoso players – which adds a wrinkle to the chain of ownership and playing.

There are a few expert and reputable violin shops throughout the world that specialize in determining and old, fine instrument’s provenance and value, though the process can be costly and time consuming. Oftentimes, the violin maker who performs this service has in his possession antique books and materials – as rare as the fine stringed instruments he sells – that help determine the unique histories and facts of a particular instrument and maker.

In the end, violinists will say that how the instrument plays is the ultimate mark of value – even if it comes with a touch of mystery as to where the instrument was played previously, and by whom.

The Gagliano Family of Violinmakers

 

The violins of Cremona and Venice might have the most storied histories, but the Neopolitan Gagliano family instruments have stood the test of time as well.

 

In 20^th century America, the music most popular among immigrants from Italy, and Naples in particular, is lively and very often full of comedy. That includes the Sceneggiata, a stage musical form akin to soap operas performed by Neapolitans Mario Merola, Pino Mauro, and Mario Trevi.

 

But among classical music audiences, and to violinists in particular, Naples is strongly associated with the violins and other fine stringed instruments made by multiple generations of a single family of renowned luthiers, the Gaglianos.

 

The founding patriarch of this family – which made fine violins, cellos and double bass instruments from the early 18^th through the early 20^th centuries – was violin maker Alessandro Gagliano (born in 1640). A native of Naples, he traveled north to Cremona where he trained under none other than Antonio Stradivari and Nicolo Amati. Biographers write that it was with the Cremonese masters that Alessandro Gagliano learned how to select wood that was as beautiful to observe as the music tones it produced.

 

Alessandro worked until the age of 90 (1730), long enough to train two sons, Nicola I and Gennaro, and four grandsons: Ferdinando, Giuseppe, Antonio I, and Giovanni. At least three great grandsons (Nicola II, Raffaele, and Antonio II) came next and continued the tradition of craftsmanship in making fine stringed instruments.

 

How good were the violins of the Gaglianos? It varies, and son Nicola I is considered the best insofar as the prices his violins sell for today attest. A cello by Nicolo sold for $744,178 at auction in 2011; his highest-valued violin sold for $258,600 in 2017. Beyond their market value in the 21^st century, Nicolo’s instruments are described as “as close as you can get to a Cremonese sound, varnish, and modeling without the word ‘fecit Cremonensis’ on the label.”

 

Contemporary virtuoso Rachel Barton Pine plays on a Nicola Gagliano violin for Baroque performances. There are 124 violins, 6 cellos, and 1 viola by Nicolo I known in existence has been sold since 1912 (per data from the Tarisio fine instruments and bows auction house).

 

Other children, grandchildren and great grandchildren of Alessandro Gagliano were prodigious violinmakers, each with their own labels (although switching of labels between instruments, and copiers from outside the family, make precise identification of the specific luthier a little more complicated). Ferdinando in particular was most productive, even if some of his instruments are described as “nondescript.”

 

The contemporary (20^th century) music from Naples that Americans know well – “O Sole mio” and “Funiculi Funicula” among them – actually follow in the footsteps of the great composers that came out of the conservatories of Naples. They include Pergolesi, Puccini, Rossini, Bellini, and Donizetti – names that no doubt knew the instruments from Gagliano well, for generations.

Stringed Instruments of the Renaissance

 

Musical eras and the instruments that created them are on an historical, evolving continuum. But each era, the Renaissance period included, has its own instruments.

 

The Renaissance was a period so associated with the new, the creative, the break from the status quo, particularly in the arts, it’s no wonder there was an explosion of new stringed instruments used in the creation of music.

 

Consider first how musical instruments were largely banned in the church during the medieval era (500-1450 CE). The plainchants of male voices in the cavernous cathedrals of Europe were largely what had defined sacred music. Secular music of the homes and taverns and public squares were livelier, with dulcimers, citterns, harps, lutes, and the occasional hurdy-gurdy providing what had to have been more joyous enjoyment of melody and rhythm. The Renaissance period elevated those instruments and their sound – along with the development of newer fine stringed instruments.

 

What were the stringed instruments that defined the music of the Renaissance? These are the primary ones:

 

Lira da braccio: A bowed, seven stringed instrument, it resembles the modern violin, albeit larger with a wide fingerboard. Two of the strings are drones. “Braccio” is Italian for arm, referring to the limb that holds the instrument against the shoulder (akin to the violin positioning).

 

Rebec: Also considered a precursor to the violin, the rebec had a boat-like (or elongated teardrop) shape carved from a single piece of wood, with between one and five strings played with a bow. It has roots in Morocco and Islamic Spain going back to the 9th century, so it is not entirely an instrument of the Renaissance.

 

Citole: Historians debate the history of this instrument, as evidence of its origins exists in the first century AD. Carved largely from a single block of wood, the neck is so thick it has a thumbhole for the player to hold as one might a modern guitar. While very much an instrument used in medieval times, it played a key role in the evolution of stringed instruments as discussed (Dr. Emanuel Winternitz, et al.) in terms of how luthiers were constantly innovating upon these instruments, leading to what we have in modern violins, guitars, etc.

 

Viol/viola da gamba: “Gamba,” Italian for leg, describes the position with which this instrument was held, lending it to comparisons to the modern cello. But it has several differences, even if there is a historical lineage between the two. The viol has five to seven strings (vs. four in a cello), a flat back (vs. curved), sloped shoulders (vs. rounded), and c holes (vs. f holes). The bowing of the viola da gamba is with an underhand movement (vs. the French overhand bow grip). Of all these instruments, it isn’t uncommon to find a violin maker who still crafts and sells viols to modern viol players.

 

It was with these instruments – as well as the woodwinds (recorders, chalumeau, a precursor to the modern single-reed clarinet, shawm, a precursor to the oboe), brass (trumpet, cornet, natural horn, slide trumpet) keyboards (clavichord, harpsichord, organ), and percussion (drum, timpani, cymbals, bass drum) – that enabled a jauntier, harmonic, complex style of music that eventually led to the baroque, classical and eventually modern music eras.

The Violins of Ruggiero Ricci

 

Over a long career that left a legacy of recordings and accomplished students, Ricci always had an eye (and ear) for fine violins, both old and new.

 

When virtuoso violinist Ruggiero Ricci died in 2012 (b 1918), the obituaries tracked his storied career. From his status as a child prodigy (two of his five siblings also achieved professional status as stringed instrument players), through a period of feeling like a “has been,” back to a renewed career of triumphal performances that lasted his entire life. His accomplishments include 6,000 concerts in 65 countries, and later teaching at the Juilliard School, Indiana University, and the University of Michigan.

 

But those histories are a bit muddled as to which fine violins he played on. That is due in part to a somewhat promiscuous love affair he had with fine Italian violins – there were quite a few over time, some made by the great luthiers of history (Stradivarius, Guarneri, and Storionis). But he also commissioned contemporary violinmakers to build new violins that replicated the work of the old masters – reportedly to great success.

 

The list of violins that count Ricci in their provenance, in no particular order, includes:

 

(Works of the masters)

·       Lorentius Storioni, Cremona 1779, now known as “the Ex Ruggiero Ricci;” it sold at auction in 2017 for £528,000, reportedly at “the highest price ever paid at auction for an instrument by the maker…coupled with the name of Ricci it wasn’t a surprise when it did so well,” according to the auction house chair, Peter Horner.

 

·       Guarneri, del Gesu violin (also know as the ex-Bronissaw Huberman 1734)

 

·       Guarneri, the “Ferni, duc de Camposelice” (1734), owned and played by Ricci from about 1947 through 1958.

 

·       Guiseppe Guarneri ‘del Gesu,’ Cremona, 1731, also known as the “Gibson, Huberman” (believed to have been in Ricci’s ownership around 1977)

 

(20^th century made)

·       The Haddock copy of the Huberman Guarneri, 1985 (luthiers: Curtin & Alf, of Ann Arbor, Michigan). Reportedly, Ricci eventually had three violins made by Curtin & Alf.

 

·       The Frederic Chaudiere violin, 1997, sent to Ricci after the soloist requested to sample some of the luthier’s work. While not made as a copy of any particular instrument, it was styled after del Gesu (Guarneri) instruments made after 1735.

 

·       Samuel Zygmuntowicz copy of the del Gesu 1735 Plowden violin. The violin maker worked in Prospect Heights, New York, and also crafted instruments purchased by Isaac Stern.

 

While he performed into his old age – live in concert, and on dozens of albums, including the very collected 1964 “Ruggiero Ricci Vivaldi: The Four Seasons Stradivarius Chamber Orchestra” – Ricci is remembered as a very nurturing teacher and modern thinker. The fact he could place great value on the luthiers of the present, not necessarily being slavishly devoted to the masters of Cremona in the 18^th century, illustrate his willingness to embrace the present.

The Violins of Pablo de Sarasate

 

Among the finest violinists of the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, Sarasate had two Stradivariuses with which to create great music. Both live on – differently.

 

Among the hundreds of surviving fineItalian violins crafted by renowned violin maker Antonio Stradivari, two were once in the hands of 19^th century virtuoso Pablo de Sarasate. One, the Sarasate Stradivarius (1724) is in the Musee de la Musique in Paris. The second, the Boissier (1713), is owned by the Real Conservatorio Superior de Musica in Madrid.

 

Where each is and what purpose it serves is a story that illustrates the different fates of great violins, as well as cellos, violas, string basses and other such fine instruments.

 

First, consider the life and career of Sarasate. Born in 1844 in Pamplona, Spain to a military bandmaster, he showed a natural affinity for the violin at age five and performed in his first concert at age eight. None other than Queen Isabella II was impressed with his talent and he was sent to Paris Conservatoire at age 12 to study there. His career took him to the capitals of Europe, Mexico and the US.

 

Over some 600 concerts, he had not one but two Strads to play on. Upon his death in 1908, he left the eponymous Sarasate Stradivarius to the Paris museum where it remains today. Importantly, it was the subject of study in 2009 on just what physically makes the Stradivariuses so special. Was it the wood, the varnish, the dimensions – or something else?

 

A research team from various French and German institutions (Jean-Philippe Echard and Lod’c Bertrand, lead investigators) presented their findings in the peer review journal Angewandte Chemie. Their methods involved extraction of samples from five different instruments (very small, done very carefully), examined with spectroscopic and microscopic technologies, to identify the wood and varnishes used.

 

The second Sarasate, in the same conservatory where he studied as a child, largely sits within a glass case along with memorabilia from the player himself. But it is played from time to time. The Russian prodigy, Mikhail Pochekin (b. 1990) won the 2008 Pablo Sarasate Prize in Madrid and was granted use of the Stradivari Ex Boissier (Ex Sarasate).

 

Sarasate bequeathed also to the world of music his own compositions, written specifically for the violin if not these two specific instruments. Those scores are in the folk idiom, opera fantasies, original compositions and transcriptions, and cadenzas to violin concertos.

 

One finding of the scientific research was that Stradivari used no exotic materials other than what was available in the 18^th century for decorative arts and paintings. The Sarasate violin showed evidence of red pigment vermilion, used for millennia in great art, including the muralists of Pompeii. It was one of several red pigments that help create the variety of tints to his instruments. Says Echard, the researcher, “Stradivari thus did not use any unusual or secret ingredients. He was simply a true master of his craft.”