By Richard McCann
rmccann@decaturdaily.com · 340-2452

Glancing at the title, one might expect this book about the production of a violin to be as dry as Antonio Stradivari’s bones.

Journalist and musician John Marchese, however, has collected historical research and musical anecdotes and blended them with centuries-old technical lore to produce a fascinating and engaging story about musicianship as well as the art of the luthier, or violin maker.

His story is built around Brooklyn fiddle maker Sam
Zygmuntgowicz, who is commissioned to build an instrument for Eugene Drucker, one of the founders of the acclaimed Emerson String Quartet.

Although Drucker played a Stradivari, they chose to pattern Drucker’s violin after a Guarneri, the instrument favored by some famous soloists, including the late Isaac Stern.

In May 2003, Stern’s estate sold his copy of a Guarneri that Zygmuntowicz had made for him. The price was $130,000, and Sam’s fee for making a fiddle promptly went to $40,000, up from from the approximately $25,000 at the time of Drucker’s commission.

What makes a fiddle like a Strad worth seven figures? Does the instrument make that much difference in the performance? Marchese hints that often the difference is more in the mind than in the ears. He tells the story of the soloist who played a concert and then smashed his instrument to bits on stage. What the shocked audience didn’t know is that he had been bowing a cheap fiddle all along and not a million-dollar Strad or Guarneri.

There is no doubt that Stradivari’s instruments are among the finest in the world and many think he was the greatest luthier of all time.

Marchese presents ample reports of studies to debunk the myth that Stradivari had a secret method, materials or varnish to account for his superiority.

Like Cuba’s vintage American cars that are kept running on spare parts and mechanical ingenuity, old instruments like Strads must be repaired and restored periodically. Violin makers — Zygmuntowicz included — have been taking them apart for years and studying them in detail before putting them back together. They have found no secret wood, mystery ingredient or magic varnish. Bottom line: Stradivari was simply the best there was, a craftsman who started with a natural talent and then used that bit of extra effort and imagination that set him apart.

Marchese’s story of building Drucker’s fiddle is woven throughout the narrative. The details of the design, selecting the wood, cooking the varnish and other minute details where a millimeter can make a difference are fascinating to anyone who loves music — Bach or bluegrass.

For anyone with a love for the violin, this book is a treat. It has inspired me to restring my 1956 Prague-made John Juzek, and I might even try to play it again.

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