Date: 19 April 2011. Author: Dr.
In the eponymous Italian fable, a wood-carver fashions a puppet out of cherry wood, and in a series of twists and turns that have fascinated children all over the world ever since, it eventually comes to life as the adorable little boy we know and love, Pinnochio. The work of a luthier (maker and restorer of string instruments) sees a similar magical transformation from disparate, inanimate blocks of a wood into a sublime, ‘living’ objet d’art, in not just the visual and aural but the spiritual sense of the word. Yehudi Menuhin describes it best: “a great violin is alive; its very shape embodies its makers intentions and its wood stores the history, or the soul of its successive owners. I never played without feeling that I have released or alas, violated spirits”.
This “spirit” influences the every fortunate owner of an instrument, regardless of degree of talent or social rank. Another noted violinist Ivry Getlis writes in his “The Art of the Violin”: “I have a violin that was born in 1713. It was alive long before me, and I hope it lives long after me. I don’t consider it as my violin. Rather, I am perhaps its violinist; I am passing through its life”. A humbling thought.
Huddled in a cluster around petite luthier, Regina Stuetzle, at the Kala Academy every morning for the last two weeks we are awed even more by the knowledge of the intricacies that go into the making of a good quality instrument. A Rolex watch seems far less complex in comparison. Every miniscule, seemingly innocuous aspect has to be just so, from the choosing of the wood to the accurate micro-measurements of the dimensions of each component, to the sand papering, fitting, gluing, drying and polishing of the finished product, requires utmost precision, diligence and limitless reservoir of patience. This is not a job for the faint hearted. This is a vocation which is at once an art and a craft, a science and a philosophy, perhaps even a religion, inasmuch as its pursuit of the ideas attains quasi-spiritual proportions. Certainly some aspects of the job, for instance carving out the belly of the instrument from a carefully selected wedge of spruce, to just the right uniform thickness, where one false move would mean having to start afresh, summon up reserves of focused mental concentration that would be the envy of a yogic master or a brain surgeon. The most mundane task like the fitting of a bridge onto an instrument requires utmost precision in measurement, drawing up the accumulated knowledge and experience of masters of the field going back several centuries and thoughtful placement. A tenth of a millimeter out in any direction would have huge implications in terms of facility of playing and transmission of sound. There is a deliberate science in the positioning of the strings where they traverse the bridge.
It is perhaps no coincidence that the violin and its larger cousins have parts corresponding to those of the human body (neck, body, waist, belly, ribs, back). So it should come as no surprise that like humans they do have fluctuations in health and need the occasional ministrations of a “doctor”. Instruments even have a “soul”. The sound post, the cylindrical pillar of wood positioned between the top and the back plates of the instrument is called the “soul” of the instrument (ame in French, “anima” in Italian) as its location is so vital to its overall tonal quality. Shifting its position requires experience and an unhurried sense of time. A little adjustment, then the owner of the instrument plays upon it. Is she content with the sound? On both extremes of the register? If not, the adjustments continue until a satisfactory result is achieved.
To learn all this, and so much more, as the workshop unfolds. We examine the innards of a violin, learn how to inspect for cracks, how to care for, how to clean the instrument. Perhaps even more importantly we understand what NOT to do, what should be better entrusted to a practiced luthier. The incompetent or often the well meant interventions by those ignorant about these exact signs, can cause the detriment of the instrument, not only in terms of its sound quality, but can also steeply depreciate the value of a priceless masterpiece to zilch.
“We” are a motley crew. The most obvious and logical candidates among the participants, of course are the representatives of the two leading music stores in Goa, (Pedro Fernandes and Sons, and Furtados Music), but our ranks also include the faculty of the Kala Academy, and a tiny clutch of the enthusiasts of the violin, viola, cello and double-bass. As word spreads that the good “doctor” is in town, several instruments materialise from all over Goa for a spot diagnosis. A few need intensive care, beyond the scope of her short visit; some need minor surgery, but thankfully many are given a clean bill of health.
Quiet, unassuming, Regina is on a volunteer mission in India, and is serving for a year as restorer of the large number of stringed instruments in dire need of restoration and repair at the Jesuit-run Gandhi Ashram School in Kalimpong, a hill station town in West Bengal. The “patients” of this violin doctor span the entire spectrum of the stringed family, from small sized violin to the big granddaddy of them all, the deep throated double bass.
She is in Goa at the invitation of Schubert Cotta, of Indo German Educational and Cultural Society and Guitar Guild Goa with the support of the Department of Western Music, Kala Academy Goa and the courtesy of the Jesuit order in Kalimpong and in Goa. A few of the young musicians (Ajay Darji, cello; Dominic Tamang and Bimal Subba, violin) from the Gandhi Ashram School have accompanied her on this their first ever trip to Goa.
Regina is part of a relatively new phenomenon: female luthiers are storming the citadel of a hitherto male-dominated profession. Nor is it any longer the monopoly of the west. Apprentices flock to the school she apprenticed in, deep in the breathtakingly scenic health spa town of Bad Mittenwald, Germany, from corners of the globe as far-flung as Korea, China and Japan. No Indians yet, though, she admits with a wry grin.
This may change, however, as an increasingly affluent and confident India takes centre stage. One need only look at the burgeoning art market and the nascent wine industry, to note how much can change in such a short span of time. Our country is famed for its skilled artisans. How long before one, or a few among us begin to apprentice with luthiers in the Western world, and bring the art to home soil? And perhaps, even build up on what they have learnt there, taking into account the vagaries of our punishing climate upon these delicate instruments and taking preventive measures to ensure their longevity and good health? Only time will tell.