Edward John Payne, “Stradivari,” in: George Grove, A Dictionary of Music and Musicians, J. A. Fuller Maitland (ed.), Vol. 3, New York: Macmillan, 1898, p. 733.

 Joseph Joachim on Stradivari’s Violins

Dr. Joachim, after perusing the proofs of this article, has most kindly communicated to the writer, to be incorporated with it, a few words on the tone of Stradivari’s violins. He considers them as mines of musical sound, which the player must dig into, as it were, in order to develope their treasures, and attributes to them a peculiar responsiveness, enabling the earnest player to place himself completely en rapport with his instrument — a relation which, as Dr. Joachim’s audiences are well aware, is with him no matter of fancy, but a fact. After some preliminary observations, he continues: ‘While the violins of Maggini are remarkable for volume of tone, and those of Amati for liquidity, none of the celebrated masters exhibit the union of sweetness and power in so preeminent a degree as Giuseppe Guarnieri (del Gesù) and Antonio Stradivari. If I am to give expression to my individual feeling, I must pronounce for the latter as my chosen favourite. It is true that in brilliancy and clearness, and even in liquidity, Guarnieri in his best instruments is not surpassed by him: but what appears to me peculiar to the tone of Stradivari is a more unlimited capacity for expressing the most varied accents of feeling.[1] It seems to well forth like a spring, and to be capable of infinite modification under the bow. Stradivari’s violins, affording a strong resistance to the bow, when resistance is desired, and yet responding to its lightest breath, emphatically require that the player’s ear shall patiently listen until it catches the secret of drawing out their tone. Their beauty of tone is not so easily reached as in the case of many other makers. Their vibrations increase in warmth, the more the player, discovering their richness and variety, seeks from the instrument a sympathetic echo of his own emotions: so much so that they seem to be living beings, and become as it were the player’s personal familiars — as if Stradivari had breathed a soul into them, in a manner achieved by no other master. It is this which stamps them as creations of an artistic mind, as positive works of art.

[1] ‘Gefühls-accents.’ Dr. Joachim uses the term in the technical sense, signifying that peculiar touch and pressure of the bow and finger which the character of the music requires. Baillot enumerates no less than thirty different ‘accents,’ which he divides into four classes: 1. The simple and naïve; 2. The vague and indecisive; 3. the passionate and dramatic; 4. the calm and religious. It is an interesting confirmation of Dr. Joachim’s opinion that Paganini’s Joseph Guarnerius violin is fitted with a very light bridge, having no ‘heart’ or central hole, and extremely small and slender feet. This great player evidently found it impossible to obtain the requisite delicacy of tone in this instrument with an ordinary bridge, and therefore had to sacrifice power to expression.

Die Musik, Year 5, 4th Quarter, Vol. 20 (1905-1906), pp. 128-129

Translation © Robert W. Eshbach, 2013

Joseph Joachim’s Memorial Speech at Robert and Clara Schumann’s Grave

Sunday, 20 May, 1906

With reverent homage, we approach the sacred place in which Robert and Clara Schumann rest. Fifty years have passed since the death of the master; just ten years ago Clara Schumann was taken from us. Both remain shining stars in the firmament of art, for creators as well as for performers. The muse of the composer will refresh generations — his songs, his instrumental creations, belong to every corner of the world — and we, too, wish, in these days, to be uplifted by that which he has created. His greatness is to us more eloquent than words can convey. But here we wish especially to remember the noble man, the “lofty” man, as his favorite poet, Jean Paul, called those rare mortals who steadfastly lead a spiritual life, fostering the divine spark in themselves; whose thoughts remain apart from the daily cares of the world, which lies far behind them in insubstantial illusion. And yet, how kindly, how lovingly, this lofty man walked among his fellows; how his supportive nature strove to kindle every spark of genuine, true striving into pure flame. How pure and without envy he was in his admiration of other masters — how he loved Mendelssohn, Brahms — how willingly he acknowledged others, even lesser talents! His writings bear a lasting testimony to this. But also to his love of fairness! He could occasionally be severe, in the consciousness of his pure intentions, and he did not conceal his displeasure. He had an innate, dignified presence that dared not approach anything mean; and yet, at the same time a touching modesty, about which I may be permitted to relate a personal experience from his last years.

Schumann and Clara visited Hanover, and I hoped to give them pleasure with a musical performance. We played quartets for the master, and it was natural that I should choose, among others, a favorite of mine: the F minor quartet by Beethoven. When I thereafter put one of his own magnificent quartets on the stand, seeing this, he gave me his hand in his true-hearted way, and with a typically beautiful expression in his marvelously mild eyes, he said: “No, not this, after what we have just heard!” I shall never forget his cordial tone, and the truth that it conveyed.

Especially here in the town of Beethoven’s birth, it is pleasant to think of this homage. Bonn has honored both great masters with monuments: the one who here entered into the world, and the one who was here delivered into rest. May this remain a symbol to the community to hold Frau Musika in honor, and to work tirelessly for her care. The coming days shall, as we all wish and hope, bear witness to the city’s efforts. But before we leave this sacred place, we wish also to remember, with intimate reverence, the woman who rests by her husband’s side, his Clara, who understood him so completely, and remained his pride and his comfort throughout his earthly pilgrimage. It is uplifting, too, to regard the life of this unique woman, who, in her struggle against a harsh fate, remained strong, never bitter, goodness itself. Robert and Clara will always remain a symbol of purest love; of genuine German spiritual life. All those who had the good fortune to edify themselves in their presence think back on them both with longing. The beauty of these people is purifying for us, even after their passing “much too sacred for their pain.” We wish to pay homage to them by bringing them Rhine flowers — children of spring.

Ehrfurchtsvoll nahen wir huldigend der geheiligten Stätte, in der Robert und Clara Schumann ruhen. Fünfzig Jahre sind hingegangen seit dem Tode des Meisters, vor gerade zehn Jahren war uns Clara Schumann entrissen. Beide bleiben leuchtende Sterne am Kunsthimmel für Schaffende und Ausübende. Generationen wird die Muse des Tondichters erquicken, seine Lieder, seine instrumentalen Tongebilde sind Eigentum aller Weltteile, und auch wir wollen uns in diesen Tagen erheben an dem, was er geschaffen. Es wird beredter von seiner Grösse zu uns sprechen, als alle Worte es vermöchten. Aber hier wollen wir besonders des edlen Menschen gedenken, des hohen Menschen, wie sein Lieblingsdichter Jean Paul diejenigen seltenen Sterblichen bezeichnet, die immer hinieden unentwegt ein Geistesleben führen, den göttlichen Funken in sich fördernd; deren Gedanken dem Weltgetriebe fern bleiben, das weitab in wesenlosem Scheine hinter ihnen liegt. Und doch wie gütig, wie liebevoll wandelte dieser hohe Mensch unter seinen Mitmenschen, wie suchte er fördernd jedes Fünkchen echten, wahren Strebens zu reiner Flamme zu entfachen. Wie rein und neidlos war er in seiner Bewunderung anderer Meister, wie liebte er Mendelssohn, Brahms, wie willig erkannte er andere, auch Geringere an! Seine Schriften geben dafür ein bleibendes Zeugnis. Aber auch für seine Gerechtigkeitsliebe! Er dürfte im Bewusstsein seines reinen Wollens bei Gelegenheit streng sein und verschwieg seinen Unmut nicht. Eine Äussere Würde war ihm eigen, der sich nichts Unlauteres zu nahen wagte; und doch dabei eine rührende Bescheidenheit, für die ein eigenes Erlebnis aus seinen letzten Lebensjahren mitzuteilen mir gestattet sei. Schumann und Clara besuchten Hannover, und ich hoffte, ihnen durch Vorführung von Musik eine Freude zu bereiten. Wir spielten dem Meister Quartette vor, wobei es natürlich war, dass ich u. a. ein Lieblingsstück von mir wählte, das f-moll Quartett von Beethoven. Als ich nun darauf eines seiner eigenen herrlichen Quartette auf das Pult legte und er dies sah, gab er mir in seiner treuherzigen Weise die Hand und mit einem eigentümlich schönen Ausdruck der wunderbar milden Augen sagte er: “Nein, dies nicht, nach dem, was wir soeben gehört!” Ich werde die Herzlichkeit im Ton, die Wahrheit, die daraus sprach, nie vergessen. Es ist wohltuend, gerade hier in der Geburtsstadt Beethovens an diese Huldigung zu denken. Beide grosse Meister hat Bonn durch Monumente geehrt, den hier in die Welt eintretenden, den hier zur Ruhe eingegangenen. Möge dies der Gemeinde ein Wahrzeichen bleiben, Frau Musika in Ehren zu halten, für ihre Pflege rastlos tätig zu bleiben. Die kommenden Tage werden, wie wir alle wünschen und hoffen, Zeugnis für das Streben der Stadt geben. Bevor wir aber diese geweihte Stätte verlassen, wollen wir in inniger Verehrung auch derjenigen gedenken, die an des Gatten Seite hier ruht, seiner Clara, die ihn so ganz verstanden, die sein Schmuck und sein Trost durchs ganze Erdenwallen blieb. Erhebend ist es auch, das Leben dieser einzigen Frau zu betrachten, die im Kämpfen gegen ein herbes Geschick stark, nie verbittert, die Güte selbst blieb. Immer werden Robert und Clara ein Symbol reinster Liebe, echten deutschen Seelenlebens bleiben. Mit Sehnsucht denken alle an die beiden zurück, welchen das Glück ward, in ihrer Nähe sich zu erbauen. Die Schönheit dieser Menschen bleibt läuternd für uns, auch nach ihrem Heimgang ‘viel zu heilig für ihren Schmerz.’ Wir wollen ihnen huldigen, indem wir rheinische Blüten, Kinder des Frühlings, darbringen.