Stradivarius and Me Secret Knowledge

ORCHESTRAL MUSIC

SCRAPING

Once upon a time, a very long time ago,

there lived a man named Antonio Stradivari.

Stradivari was an extraordinary violin maker.

He conjured magical musical instruments

out of the most ordinary blocks of wood.

Their tone was like a nightingale's song - pure and strong and sweet.

Other craftsmen grew curious.

What made Stradivari's violins so special?

But try as they might, no-one could discover his secret.

And the cunning Stradivari told nobody,

carrying it with him to his grave.

It sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it?

The amazing thing is that it's all true.

Ever since I started learning the violin as a child,

the name Stradivarius has held an almost mythical appeal.

In the 17th century, Antonio Stradivari

made over 1,000 instruments and about 600 of them still survive.

But a Strad is so much more than just a musical instrument.

Each one is like a little miracle in wood,

and for violinists they're the ultimate Holy Grail.

The prospect of playing one, let alone owning one,

is an almost unimaginably thrilling prospect.

For me though, part of the enchantment lies in the fact

that 250 years after his death, we still don't know how he did it.

We still have never really discovered Stradivari's secret.

MUSIC

Although I stopped playing the violin seriously in my teens,

I've remained a bit of a violin geek.

So this summer's exhibition at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford is

a rare treat.

For the first time ever in Britain,

it brings together 21 of Stradivari's finest instruments

from museums and private collections all around the world.

Every single one has an incredibly rich history.

But I've singled out some of my favourites.

This is the story of Stradivarius

told through four very special violins.

MUSIC

We'll never know when or where the very first violin was made.

The fiddle seems to have appeared fully formed

during the 16th century.

For me, the Stradivari story really begins in the 1560s

80 years before his birth, when his home town of Cremona,

in Northern Italy, became the violin-making capital of Europe.

The earliest violins were an accompaniment to lively

nights in the tavern.

But in more refined circles the fiddle was frowned upon.

It might be an appropriate plaything for a peasant, but it was

hardly deemed appropriate for courtly entertainment or religious services.

In parts of Italy the church even ordered

the destruction of the supposedly licentious object.

But something happened to change the fortunes of the violin,

and Cremona, for ever.

This curious new instrument entranced Catherine de Medici,

one of the most powerful women in Renaissance Europe.

Captivated by its unique sound,

she ordered a set of 38 new violins from Italy.

And they were all made in Cremona by Antonio Stradivari's forefather,

Andrea Amati,

the very first master violin-maker in history.

MUSIC

This violin was one of the instruments that Amati

made for Catherine de Medici in 1564.

It's the oldest-surviving violin in the world.

I didn't think I'd feel quite so emotional holding it.

What is just mind-boggling is that this doesn't look like a first draft.

This doesn't look like some rough and ready prototype.

This is what it is, this is a violin. It's very light.

It's slightly smaller than a modern instrument, but...

This early violin was made like all those that followed it

out of maple wood.

Its form is beautiful, but it's functional too.

The curves equalise the resonance at all frequencies.

Where a simpler shape would favour one note over others.

The first piece of music written for the violin,

composed by Catherine de Medici's court musician,

may well have been played on this very instrument.

RENAISSANCE STRING MUSIC

I feel like music's one of those things that connects us

all through time and through history

and it's so ephemeral.

We hear it, it's just molecules and vibrations in the air,

but to actually hold the object that would have played

the first piece of violin music ever written.

It's completely bewilderingly wonderful.

MUSIC

Andrea Amati and his family dominated

violin-making for the next hundred years.

But in the middle of the 17th century,

a young Cremonese craftsman emerged,

who would go on to challenge the Amatis' crown.

His name was Antonio Stradivari

and his oldest fiddle is here, in the Ashmolean Museum.

MUSIC

One of the things that really adds to the allure of Stradivari

is that he seems to come out of nowhere.

We know very little about his birth

or his childhood.

It's almost as if

he arrives with this.

This is his first known violin.

It's known as the Serdet.

It was made in 1666, which is

the same year as the Great Fire of London.

We do know from later records that Stradivari was about 22

when he produced it.

I have been waiting for this moment for pretty much my entire life,

it feels like, because I'm actually going to be allowed to hold

this Strad and even to play it.

This is the first time in my life that I've ever held a Strad.

It's just something that as a violinist you grow up dreaming about

and never, ever, ever imagine that

you'll be able to actually do it.

A few things about the Serdet suggest it's the work of a novice.

The slightly awkward arching of the back

and the irregular details on the corners.

But it also has features that would become Stradivari's trademarks,

like the sound holes and the scroll.

One of the really interesting things about this violin is the label,

which reads "Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Alumnus

"Nicolaii Amati, Faciebat Anno 1666."

Which suggests that perhaps Stradivarius really was

a pupil of Amati.

If so, it's the only shred of evidence that we have that he was.

If indeed it is evidence. I do wonder if he did study with Amati.

Or whether it was just a great career move to suggest that he did.

SINGLE NOTE BEING PLAYED

It's tantalising to think about the music that might have been

played on the Serdet by its very first owner.

Stradivari was a contemporary of the great Johann Sebastian Bach.

So I'd like to think that it might have been one of my favourite pieces,

Bach's Concerto for Two Violins in D Minor.

I've asked Jennifer Pike,

who I met through the Young Musician Of The Year competition

which she won aged just 12,

to come and help me put the Serdet through its paces.

VIOLINS TUNE UP

Do you ever lose, does it ever get less thrilling, to play a Strad?

I don't think so. No.

That kind of feeling of awe never leaves you.

-It feels fitting to play Bach on a Strad, I think.

-Absolutely, yeah.

-Shall we have a go?

-Let's have a go.

MUSIC: "Concerto for Two Violins in D Minor" by Bach

Jennifer's playing a Strad from the exhibition, and I've been allowed

to play the Serdet, Stradivari's earliest violin.

Nice!

-Unbelievable.

-The tone really is unbelievable.

What do you think, because you obviously play on an amazing

violin all the time, but what makes the tone different?

What makes it so special?

I don't know, each violin has its own voice, in a way.

This is really mellow. It's just so warm, it's like sitting by the fire.

JENNIFER LAUGHS

-It's like an old friend.

-It is like an old friend.

Even though we just met.

I don't think I ever really want to give it back, either.

You don't mind, Ashmolean, if we never give them back, do you?

CHAMBER MUSIC

The year after Stradivari made the Serdet violin,

he married a local girl and their first child was born

a slightly unorthodox four months later.

He was now a contented family man.

But professionally,

Stradivari had yet to reach the height of his powers.

It was not until over a decade later

that his career really took off.

And I get the sense that as well as his phenomenal technical skill,

he also had a very good manner with his clients.

There's very little documentary evidence about Stradivari's life,

which makes what we do have incredibly precious.

Like this letter I've got a copy of here.

Now, my Italian is a bit rusty,

but he writes, "most illustrious and excellent sir,

"I didn't send the violins sooner

"because I was waiting for somebody trustworthy

"and I pray you to forgive me for not sending it more quickly

"and I hope you will appreciate it.

"I remain yours.

"Your very modest and devoted servant, Antonio Stradivari."

And it's dated Cremona, 23rd August.

Now, we don't know who this very illustrious and excellent Sir was,

but I'm extremely envious of him.

Imagine getting a letter like this from Stradivari.

I think you'd forgive him being late, wouldn't you?

MUSIC: "Tango por una Cabeza" by Carlos Gardel

Michael Kearns has been making violins for 40 years.

The methods he uses have hardly changed since Stradivari's day,

and he shares my admiration for the great craftsman's skill.

As a violin maker, is it possible to say

how a Strad is different from everything else?

You know it when you see it.

You know it when you hear it, obviously.

I mean, they are very fine-sounding instruments.

And the more I've been a violin maker, almost the greater he gets.

He was there in Cremona at the same time as many other makers.

He was using the same wood, the same varnish, the same materials,

and yet, his violins are so different.

How is it possible to explain that?

I think Stradivari was, in a sense, the right man at the right time.

He grew out of three generations in Cremona of fine makers

and he just took it that several stages further

and had a long working life, and really was hugely talented,

so, it would be a little bit like Rembrandt.

They all had the same paints, the same canvases,

but Rembrandt had something special,

and there's a little bit of that when it comes to talking about Stradivari.

-Is it fair to say that he's a genius?

-I think so.

He's just, there's just something special,

there's a few more gears when you start looking at it.

Looking at a Strad, are you intimidated?

Are you inspired? How do you feel?

I think I am inspired.

It's huge, it's huge. It's intimidating as well.

Because it reflects on your own limitations.

Nevertheless, you have to stand up to the block and have a shot at it.

And that's the fun of it.

MUSIC: "Concerto Grosso in D, Op. 6, No. 4-3 Allegro" by Arcangelo Corelli

Stradivari was producing violins

during a golden age of music for the instrument.

The great baroque composers like Bach and Corelli

were at their height

and their compositions demanded a level of virtuosity

that a previous generation of players could only have dreamt of.

At the same time, venues were getting larger.

And for a violin to reach the very back rows,

it needed a much more powerful tone.

Stradivari rose to this challenge

and set out to create the perfect instrument.

During a decade of constant experimentation,

he produced fiddles in different shapes and sizes,

including this, the Long Strad,

before returning to his tried and tested design.

Although in his 60s,

Stradivari was about to surpass himself as a craftsman.

The violins he produced during his "golden period"

at the beginning of the 18th century

are still the most highly prized in the world.

And the Viotti is one of them.

-MUSIC:

-"Serenade" from Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto

Named after the brilliant 18th-century virtuoso,

Giovanni Battista Viotti, who once owned it,

this Strad has recently been valued at £3.5 million.

But we've been given very special permission to play it.

Handsome, elegant and charming, Viotti was a natural performer.

It's rumoured that he received the Strad

as a love-token from Catherine the Great.

But although he was the darling of audiences back home in Italy,

there was one crowd who were notoriously hard to impress.

There's a great story of how Viotti seduced 18th-century Paris,

a place that was famous not only for its suspicion of Italian musicians,

but also of the violin as a solo instrument.

One French writer went so far as to publish a defence of the bass viol

against the ventures of the violin,

describing it as "an undersized pygmy".

But if anyone could change their mind, it was Viotti

and it's perhaps a sign of his self-assurance

that his Parisian premiere was no low-key affair.

Viotti's French debut was booked for Good Friday,

one of the biggest nights of the concert calendar.

It took place at the Concert Spirituel,

one of the most prestigious venues in the city.

You can almost imagine the atmosphere as he raised his bow.

MUSIC: "Partita No. 3 in Mi Majeur, BWV 1006 Preludio" by JS Bach

At first, the audience was sceptical.

But by the end of the concert run, Paris was seduced

by the way Viotti's violin sang like a human voice.

This string of concerts would change the course

of violin playing for ever, not just in Paris but throughout Europe.

As leading musicians sought to emulate Viotti's remarkable tone,

the Stradivarius became the instrument of choice

for soloists the world over.

Stradivari died in December 1737, aged 92.

He'd been making violins for over 70 years.

And the saying "as rich as Stradivari"

was common on the streets of Cremona.

But even after his death, Stradivari's reputation continued

to grow, as his instruments took on a life of their own.

In 1890, The Strad, a journal dedicated to string instruments,

issued its very first publication.

The editorial observed that since Stradivari's death,

"violin making had practically come to a standstill."

It touched on something that was beginning to puzzle the public.

Just what was it about Stradivari's violins that made them so special?

The search was on to try and uncover his secret.

Many theories have been suggested over the years.

Was Stradivari using wood that had been soaked in sea water,

or covered in volcanic ash?

Was his an unusually dense crop of maple?

Or was there a secret formula to the legendary Cremonese varnish?

But, so far, there's been no definitive answer.

Despite our best efforts, science has yet to solve

the riddle of what set Stradivari apart.

And I wonder whether there really is a magic formula,

or whether he wasn't just astonishingly good at what he did.

A kind of Shakespeare or Titian,

whose genius can never ever be slavishly copied, or repeated.

And if there's one violin that embodies the way

Stradivari's craft has obsessed generation after generation,

it's the Messiah.

Made during his Golden Period, in 1716, Stradivari never parted

with this particular fiddle.

It remained in his workshop until the day he died.

Each of its successive owners has fallen under its spell.

Many only parted with it on death.

What would I do to have you in my life?

What WOULDN'T I do to have you in my life?

And The Messiah remains as flawless as the day it was finished

because this Strad has hardly ever been played.

Even being able to handle it is an incredible privilege.

There's... There's no other instrument in the world

that has such mythical status as this.

Despite its solidity and its presence in my hands right now,

and I suppose, the proviso of the Ashmolean having this instrument

was that it was never played,

and that it remains pristine and perfect,

and, in a sense, that just perpetuates the myth,

that no-one would part with it till they died.

And the fact that we can't hear it sing, we can't hear its voice.

We can only imagine and dream and wonder

what it might actually sound like.

But, my hunch is that it would sound pretty good.

The Messiah captured the public's imagination

just as enthusiastic Victorian amateurs

were beginning to take up the violin in droves.

This created a lucrative market

for affordable, mass-produced new instruments.

For this, they needed a template.

And the Messiah, the pristine, perfect Strad

was the obvious choice.

It became the most copied violin in the world.

MUSIC: "Intermezzo" from St Paul's Suite, by Gustav Holst

One of the special things about a Strad is their rich histories.

This is just a box of silent wood hanging here,

and yet you can almost feel it resonating, echoing

with all the magnificent performances

that it must have given over the centuries.

There's one concert at which I'd have loved a front-row seat.

It took place on 14th June, 1921, at the Queen's Hall in London.

It was the orchestral premiere

of one of the most mesmerizing pieces ever written for the violin.

MUSIC: "The Lark Ascending" by Ralph Vaughan Williams

The soloist was Marie Hall.

And the Strad she cradled had previously been owned by Viotti.

Marie Hall's career was a real-life Cinderella story.

She was a girl from an ordinary, working-class background

who came to the attention of Vaughan Williams

whilst playing the violin on a street corner.

Vaughan Williams had composed The Lark Ascending

with Marie and her Stradivarius in mind.

The combination of a spell-binding piece,

written by a British composer, played by an English rose,

captivated the inter-war audience.

Marie Hall and her Strad became

one of the most iconic musical pairings of the era.

They toured the world, playing to packed-out concert halls together.

She called the violin her "greatest treasure".

It's easy to understand why Marie Hall became

so attached to her Stradivarius.

To hear these instruments played

and to have the opportunity to play a Strad myself -

has been an unbelievable pleasure and privilege.

When you hold a Stradivarius,

it's so much more than just a musical instrument.

It's like a slice of history, a treasure, and a responsibility.

Even the very greatest musicians don't actually own them.

They're just the custodians of the instrument

during a particular chapter of its history -

a history that stretches across continents and centuries.

I'm still enthralled by this mystery,

and by the fact that the answer to what makes a Strad a Strad,

seems to be as elusive to us as, "why do we fall in love?"

It's like the ultimate riddle.

A perennial quest,

and a humbling reminder that,

for all of our modern technology and scientific advances,

we still don't have all the answers.

MUSIC: "Love Is Like A Violin" by Ken Dodd

# Love is like a violin

# With its strings around your heart

# Soft and sweet as dreams begin

# Sadly crying when you part... #

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd