Restricted as is its range of dynamics, the violin has had for its
votaries men of such widely differing temperaments as Paganini and
Spohr, Wilhelmj and Sarasate, Joachim and Ysaye. Its literature does
not compare with that of the piano, for which Bach, Beethoven,
Schumann, Chopin, and Brahms have written their choicest music, yet
the intimate nature of the violin, its capacity for passionate
emotion, crowns it--and not the organ, with its mechanical tonal
effects--as the king of instruments. Nor does the voice make the
peculiar appeal of the violin. Its lowest note is the G below the
treble clef, and its top note a mere squeak; but it seems in a few
octaves to have imprisoned within its wooden walls a miniature world
of feeling; even in the hands of a clumsy amateur it has the
formidable power of giving pain; while in the grasp of a master it
is capable of arousing the soul.
No other instrument has the ecstatic quality; neither the
shallow-toned pianoforte, nor the more mellow and sonorous
violoncello. The angelic, demoniacal, lovely, intense tones of the
violin are without parallel in music or nature. It is as if this box
with four strings across its varnished belly had a rarer nervous
system than all other instruments. It is a cry, a shriek, a hymn to
heaven, a call to arms, an exquisite evocation, a brilliant series
of multi-coloured visions, a broad song of passion, or mocking
laughter--what cannot the violin express if the soul that guides it
be that of an artist? Otherwise, it is only a fiddle. It is the
hero, the heroine, the vanguard of every composition. As a solo
instrument in a concerto, its still small voice is heard above the
din and thunder of the accompaniment. In a word, this tiny music-box
is the ruler among instruments.
Times have changed since 1658 in England, when the following
delightful ordinance was made for the benefit of musical genius, or
otherwise:
"And be it enacted that if any person or persons, commonly called
Fiddlers, or minstrels, shall at any time after the said first of
July be taken playing, fiddling, or making music in any inn,
alehouse or tavern, or shall be proffering themselves, or desiring,
or entreating any person or persons to hear them play ... shall be
adjudged rogues, vagabonds, and sturdy beggars."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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