Due Diligence and Purchasing a Fine Stringed Instrument

The provenance of a great violin, viola or cello plays heavily into its value. But how that is proven is difficult – and no job for an amateur.

The challenges and sometimes great triumphs of tracking the provenance and value of art and antiques has been the subject of extensive media coverage and even movies. The 2015 biographical drama, “Woman in Gold,” tracks the story of an elderly Jewish refugee and Holocaust survivor as she and a young attorney reclaim a Gustav Klimt painting of her aunt (Adele Bloch-Bauer), stolen by the Nazis in World War II.

But for anyone purchasing a fine stringed instrument, perhaps one that was improperly documented if not entirely misappropriated by malevolent forces, the due diligence process is severely impaired.

Many fine violins, cellos, violas, basses, pianos, and other instruments in Europe were looted by the Nazis in the 1930s and 1940s and never recovered. For more on that read below. But even instruments not subject to war and cataclysm can be difficult to document. We’re not talking about average instruments here. We are talking about the highest quality, fine stringed instruments for sale; fine violins, violas and cellos crafted by fine violin makers and certified by reputable and renowned experts that an instrument is what it is being sold as.

Why due diligence matters – and is challenging

At the outset, it needs to be established that the process of identifying the history and value of a fine stringed instrument needs to be undertaken by a professional appraiser. Sometimes an experienced violinist can help figure some of this out, but even then, an objective and trained researcher is still a good check on what is found.

There are several physical clues on when and how a violin was made: the woodgrain, varnish, and the shape, style, and size of the violin. The label, found inside the instrument, can be a defining characteristic, however it can also be fake (many instruments said “Stradivari” meaning ‘in the style of Stradivari,’ a critical and usually damning distinction).

The sound of an instrument might be its greatest strength. But because a violin or cello or any other instrument is also a product of its player, sound is an unreliable marker of the instrument and its history.

Documentation that includes bills of sale, reliable papers showing chain of ownership, and photographs can be very defining. But photography wasn’t invented until the mid-19th century, hundreds of years after the creation of many of the finest of instruments. Meanwhile, written documentation very often was lost in wars, through owner disorganization, and in the settling of estates.

Without documentation, there seems to be a matter of faith in storytelling that sometimes makes up for a lack of evidence. Vintage violins by the Klotz family of luthiers, who crafted fine instruments in the early 1700s in Mittenwald (Bavaria), typically sell in the $15,000 to $25,000 range, according to StringsMagazine.com. But one particular Klotz is believed to have been owned by Mozart as a teenager, and was the instrument through which he composed several concertos, so it has a much higher valuation. The story is hearsay, dependent on what Mozart’s sister said at the time, with no written documentation.

What was lost in World War II

Paintings are unique in their appearance, while violins are much less so. This impairs identifying instruments in the way art can be.

A pernicious aspect of what happened to untold numbers of fine stringed instruments is tied to a program of the Nazis that began in the mid-1930s. They literally had a unit dedicated to looting the homes of Jews who either fled Europe or were abducted and murdered. Called Sonderstab Musik, this team of organized criminals systematically cataloged and inventoried what they took. In France alone, survivors claimed 8,000 pianos that were missing. As reported by National Public Radio, instrument dealers resold instruments from the Nazi storehouses “on a large scale” without checking provenance or providing documentation.

So while it is possible that many important, fine instruments from the 17th and 18th century workshops of Mittenwald, Cremona, Venice, or Paris may indeed still exist, proving where they came from, who owned them and who played them most likely is lost to the ashes of war.

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.

A History of Violins in Rock & Roll

 

More than the guitar strings can make us rock. Violinists including John Creach, Richard Sanders, Robby Steinhardt, and David Lindley showed us how.

 

As every new genre of music builds on what came before it, it’s always interesting to see how certain instruments are employed in completely different ways. The incorporation of classical musical instruments in rock & roll music are a good illustration of this creative stretch by artists.

 

Rock of course was initially largely about three instruments: lead guitar, bass guitar, and percussion. But it’s easy to hear instruments such as harpsichords in music by The Beatles, flutes with Jethro Tull (more specifically, flautist Ian Anderson and his one-legged flamingo stance), as well as full stringed orchestras providing a symphonic sound for Emerson, Lake and Palmer and Deep Purple. Paul McCartney might have gotten the credit as lead singer, but it was The Beatles’ producer, George Martin, who laid in orchestral tracks so familiar in “Eleanor Rigby,” “I Am the Walrus,” and “Yesterday.” The cello is featured prominently in Guns and Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle,” and Led Zeppelin’s “All my Love.”

 

But it’s the violin, in acoustic and electric versions, which are definitive parts of the sounds of certain rock artists. Unlike classical violinists who play fine violins that require ongoing maintenance of a violin maker, rockers typically use lesser quality instruments on stage – because of the wear and tear on them through touring and performance – and take their instruments to guitar luthiers. Here is a brief overview of these violin rockers:

 

Jefferson Airplane: Jazz violinist Papa John Creach, whose range of style (blues, classical, jazz, R&B, pop and acid rock) served the group well in such singles as “Bark,” “Long John Silver,” Dragon Fly,” and “Red Octopus.”

 

Kansas: Robby Steinhardt was both the violinist and a founding member of this group, which had its heyday in the 1970s (top hits: “Carry on Wayward Won,” “Point of No Return,” and “Dust in the Wind”). His skills on the strings were in every song in the group’s discography, and he also played the viola on an overlaid track of “Dust in the Wind.”

 

Dave Matthews Band: Violinist Boyd Calvin Tinsley, helped compose some of the star-studded band’s music. His most famous performance was in “Tripping Billies,” a tour-de-force for the electric fiddle. Said Matthews of Tinsley: “We had no plans of adding a violinist. We just wanted some fiddle tracked on this one song, “Tripping Billies,” and Boyd …. came in and it just clicked. That completely solidified the bad, gave it a lot more power.”

 

Fairport Convention: Over a career spanning several decades, Richard Sanders (born in 1952) lent his jazz-rock, folk rock, British folk rock, and folk mastery of the violin to many groups that include Albion Band, Strawbs, Jethro Tull, Robert Plant, Procol Harum, Loudon Wainwright III, Pentangle, All About Eve, and Soft Machine. But his discography with Fairport Convention, over the span of 1985 to 2020, includes “Gladys’ Leap,” “Jewel in the Crown,” “Over the Next Hill,” “Sense of Occasion,” “Festival Bell,” “Myths and Heroes,” and “Shuffle and Go.”

 

Jackson Browne: Browne might have needed multi-instrumentalist David Lindley, but Lindley didn’t need Browne. Lindley began playing the violin at age 3 (and broke the bridge of his first instrument), then took up a variety of other stringed instruments: the baritone ukulele, banjo, and guitar among them. Working with Jackson Browne, his fiddle is heard on “For Everyman,” “Late for the Sky,” “The Pretender,” “Running on Empty,” “Hold Out,” and “Love is Strange: En Vivo Con Tino.”

 

But this conversation is incomplete without crediting the avant-garde composer, musician and performance artist Laurie Anderson, for her inventive takes on the violin. Her “tape-bow violin” uses recorded magnetic tape on the bow where horsehair would be with a magnetic tape head in the bridge. She developed the instrument in 1977 and introduced iterations of it in years that followed. 

The Violins of Isaac Stern

Among the greatest of 20th century virtuosos, Stern left behind great violins and bows. His estate may have bungled it a bit, but the instruments endure.

Just two years after his death, the auctioning of the fine violins, bows, and memorabilia from the estate of Isaac Stern (1920-2001) set the violin universe on fire – with nearly the energy of Tchiakovsky’s Finale: Allegro vivacissimo movement, inspired by Russian folk themes, in the Violin Concerto in D Major op.35 that was part of Stern’s considerable discography.

The story on why the auction happened unfortunately dimmed Stern’s legacy, an otherwise bright life story of international performance that earned him six Grammy Awards, the US Presidential Medal of Freedom, and being named to the French Legion of Honor. Carnegie Hall in New York has the Isaac Stern Auditorium, so-named in part to honor his musicianship as well as his civic activism in saving the structure from demolition in the 1960s.

A dispute between the attorney handling Stern’s estate, on behalf of the virtuoso’s third wife of five years, against his adult children from his second marriage, led to a premature and perhaps unnecessary dissolution of the valuable property. The sales netted $3.3 million, which was thought to be necessary to pay off debts as they were originally perceived to be at the time. Upon further inquiry, those debts were due to mishandling of Stern’s Manhattan apartment and other estate matters by the attorney, who was ultimately judged to owe the Stern’s children $563,000.

The Stern progeny were particularly incensed that they learned about the auctioning of the fine stringed instruments and bows only after the auction was publicly announced. Those instruments were bequeathed to them in the violinist’s will.

The items that were sold (by the Tarisio auction house) included 30 bows, including a Tourte (sold for $43,125), a Peccatte ($40,250), and a Sartory ($37,375). Among the instruments sold were Stern’s Vuilllaume violin (1850), a modern copy (by Samuel Zygmuntowicz) of a Guarneri violin, and a Steinway & Sons piano.

But the most beloved of his instruments in his lifetime was Stern’s thirty years with the del Gesu (1740) known as the Ysaÿe Guarnerius, which he played from 1965 through 1995, and which was subsequently owned by the Nippon Music Foundation. Other classical violins he played during his illustrious career were:

• "Kruse-Vormbaum" Stradivarius (1728)
• "ex-Stern" Bergonzi (1733)
• "Panette" Guarneri del Gesù (1737)
• Michele Angelo Bergonzi (1739–1757
• "Arma Senkrah" Guadagnini (1750)
• Giovanni Guadagnini (1754)
• J. B. Vuillaume copy of the "Panette" Guarneri del Gesu of 1737 (c.1850)
• "ex-Nicolas I" J.B. Vuillaume (1840)

Among Stern’s contemporary instruments were a second violin by Samuel Zygmuntowicz and a modern Italian, a Jago Peternella violin.

The fact that all these instruments survive the great violinists who once played them, come what may, is testimony to the enduring nature of great craftsmanship and the reverence they hold among instrumentalists and, increasingly, their patrons.

Sears Roebuck and the Violin

Almost everything was sold via the Sears “Wish Books” of the 20^th century. Worth noting is inexpensive instruments that have long been available – and valued.

 

Fundamentally, shopping online via Amazon in the 2020s is an awful lot like shopping by way of the Sears catalog in the early 1900s. The consumer then and now looked for what they wanted – or browsed for things that caught their eye – and placed an order with payment upfront. That order was then and is now delivered to their doorstep.

 

Items you could buy, then and today, included inexpensive violins for sale. Also known as “student violins” – and back in the day of the Sears Roebuck catalog (Roebuck’s involvement in the business was short lived although the name lasted longer than the person), they sold “tenor violins” which were in fact violas – they sold for as little as $2.95. There were higher-priced models, “High Grade Violins” as the catalog copy read, priced at $29.95.

 

And what’s noteworthy about those violins is they carried the names of history’s greatest luthiers: Stradivarius, Maggini, and Stainer among them – always with the phrasing to the effect of “modeled after the celebrated Stradivarius violin,” lest there be any false representation (which didn’t become illegal until the 1914 Federal Trade Commission Act – and besides, “modeled after” is a fair enough warning, although the labels inside the instruments didn’t provide that detail).

 

But marketing and distribution issues aside, the fact that violins were popular enough to be sold to families in rural Kansas via their Sears catalog is indication of something more. This was a time preceding television and for most, the radio. Playing musical instruments was the most accessible forms of musical entertainment, especially outside cities, on a daily basis. One only went to the theater for special occasions, if there was one within reachable distance.

 

Writer Dina Gold penned in Moment Magazine about the phenomenon in both Europe and the US prior to World War 2 (“The Stars of David that Aren’t,” tracing how vintage violins of the era had inlaid mother-of-pearl six-pointed stars, which some mistakenly think today were violins used in concentration camps during the Holocaust):

 

“Advertised widely as ‘fancy violin’” in U.S. mail-order catalogs such as Rudolph Wurlitzer (started in 1856 in Cincinnati, which had a big German population), Sears Roebuck & Co, C.F. Martin & Co., Montgomery Ward and August Gemunder & Sons, these violins cost on average $8, then likely a week’s pay. Buyers could choose from a large array of patterns and designs as decoration, including statues, flags, flowers, artists’ heads, harps, swirls, eagles, Stars and Stripes, as well as four-, six- and eight-pointed mother-of-pearl inlaid stars.”

 

Today, there is not only a collector’s trade in those cheaper violins, but with the pages right out of vintage Sears catalogs themselves. For bid-prices ranging between $7 and $20, it’s possibly to buy the original pages from those “Wish Books,” as they were called. The breathless marketing copy and the illustrations are as much a glimpse into how things were merchandised at the time as well as what one can imagine life was like a century ago.

 

The parallels between the old Sears catalogs and Amazon and other online retail sellers holds true today. It’s possible to buy a student violin for as little as $69.99 (includes case, shoulder rest, bow, rosin and an extra bridge and strings, in the ¼ size). Given the rate of inflation since 1900 – which is a multiple of 32.66 – the original lowest priced $2.95 violin would cost $96.35 today.  

 

From which one can conclude, at the lowest level of quality anyway, that musical instruments are as economically accessible today as they were 120 years ago.

The Primrose International Viola Competition

 

Relegated to the alto voice in most compositions, the viola has risen to greater prominence thanks to William Primrose and those who aspire to his virtuosity.

 

Pity the viola? Not quite a violin, not quite a cello, and a far cry from the double bass. With its lower and deeper sound vis a vis the violin it has largely played the alto voice in most compositions. Audiences rarely attended concerts to hear the viola. At best it was the inner voice in string quartets, an accompaniment (second fiddle?) to the star instrument, the violin.

 

But violists such as William Primrose (1904-1982) saw things differently. A talented but surprisingly disinterested violin player from the age of 4 – his father taught violin and was a member of the Scottish Orchestra from their home in Glasgow – he was encouraged by a teacher in Belgium to pursue the viola, which he did to join the London String Quartet at the age of 26. Some years later he was able to commission a viola concerto from Bela Bartok, who died before it was completed (Tibor Serly managed to complete it by 1949). He of course soloed in the premier of the piece.

 

It was in honor of Primrose’s raising to prominence the viola that the Primrose International Viola Competition was officially instituted in 1986 (a predecessor event in 1979 was adjudicated by Primrose himself). The semi-annual event, often held in conjunction with the North American Viola Congress, is a rigorous competition for violists ages 29 or under.

 

The 16^th Primrose competition semi-final and final rounds will be held at the Colburn School in Los Angeles December 13-18, 2021. But that is the culmination of qualifying stages leading up to that: prescreen videos from competitors (due June 11); live round competitors who make the first cut must submit their repertoire (mid-August); quarter-final rounds (December 13-14); and the semi-final round (December 16).

 

Prizes for winners of the competition are $15,000 for first place, $10,000 for second place, and $5,000 for third place.

 

In 2021, a BIPOC (Black and Indigenous People of Color) prize will be awarded by the American Viola Society to the competitor at the Primrose competition who best performs a work by a BIPOC composer. This is in addition to the “Transcriptions Prize;” both of these are worth $1000.

 

During the competition, it isn’t uncommon for a local Los Angeles violin shop or two to host exhibitions that feature fine violas for sale to those who are attending and competing in the festival. Rarely do so many viola enthusiasts converge on any city as they do the City of Angels.

 

Everything about the viola is bigger than the violin, which means players have to account for the instruments’ longer body and neck, thicker gauge strings, a bow with a wider band of horsehair. While this challenges the players to engage more physically with the instrument, which includes applying more weight to the bow and strings to achieve the appropriate degree of vibration. That is what creates a deeper and, arguably, a mellower tone.

 

Winners of the competition are largely regarded as emerging talent on a global scale, most of whom go on to populate the orchestras, ensembles, and academic institutions of music the world over.

 

Pity the viola? Hardly. It’s a star instrument when in the hands of star players.

The Beginnings of the Cello Endpin

 The parts of the cello start at the floor. But the endpin wasn’t always part of the instrument, and the physicality of that changed music itself.

 

Aspects of the cello that most matter when considering cello accessories and parts: The scroll, pegs, pegbox, neck, fingerboard, strings, upper bout, bridge, F-holes, C-bout, fine tuners, tailpiece (aka the tailgut), and lower bout. Right?

 

Don’t forget the endpin. Even though historically this little peg leg appendage didn’t exist, the addition of the endpin – thought to have been sometime around the early 18^th century, when the Stradivarius version of the cello standardized the modern cello – proved to be more important than its lowly position might suggest. Prior to that, the cello itself was slightly smaller and held horizontally, akin to the violin, or held up from the floor through an artful and asymmetrical (if not awkward) use of the player’s calf, or with a neck strap. It is often referred to as da gamba (between the legs) style.

 

This latter method, propped against the legs, affected the sound, dampening the resonance of the instrument. Luthiers of the latter 17^th century had begun building bigger instruments, largely to transform it by angling the back of the cello to increase string tension. This had the effect of producing more volume. Also, the range of the instrument was further extended by lengthening the fingerboard. This larger instrument became unwieldy to hold by existing methods.

 

So as cellos basically got bigger, players needed some manner of lifting device. They tried resting the instrument on the floor, a short stool, a wooden barrel, or the player’s foot, each of which is depicted in art from the 15^th – 17^th century era. The first endpin has no credited single inventor, but they first appear in the literature and art of the mid-18^th century.

 

The first endpins were likely made of wood, as the oldest surviving versions are just that. Over time they added a rubber tip to increase friction (prevent sliding) and to protect the floor. They’ve subsequently been made of metal and carbon fiber. Added to that are endpin anchors or holders, to further prevent sliding. Other mechanisms to prevent sliding include T-shaped wooden stoppers that are tethered to the player’s chair. Any violin shop that specializes in fine cellos for sale will offer many solutions to stabilize them while performing.

 

Double basses have endpins as well. Due to the weight and playing position of the bass – more perpendicular to the floor than cellos, which meet the floor at an angle – they do not need anchoring devices.

 

Lest anyone consider an endpin a minor component of great music, an academic paper begs to differ. Doctoral candidate William E. Braun wrote his thesis, “The Evolution of the Cello Endpin and its Effect on Technique and Repertoire” (2015, The Graduate College at the University of Nebraska) to discuss how it expanded the range of cellists and compositions alike.

 

Braun’s extensive research and report (132 pages) includes how the endpin has evolved over time, particularly in the types of materials used. It looks at the alternative means of supporting the instrument, and how the endpin became the preferred method because it enhanced the sound. Also, the positioning enabled an evolution of playing techniques. From there, Braun posits the compositions for the instrument advanced as well.

 

To this last point, he cites Luigi Boccherini (1743-1805), perhaps a lesser-known composer but one who himself played the cello and therefore was inclined to compose for the instrument. His eleven cello concertos have technical challenges for the player, described in the paper as “florid passages and virtuosic lines in the high registers of the fingerboard… Boccherini’s virtuosic compositions would not be possible to play well with early cello postures, such as with the instrument held on the floor.”

 

So while it is called an “endpin,” its development and use really was just a beginning for cello lovers everywhere.