My Violin
Sat., December 11, 08:45 AM
As I go through my possessions, trying to find space and perhaps discard some of the junk, it occurred to me that I should try to sell my violin. After all, not only have I not played it in years, but I don’t see anyone likely to play it in the future.
I mentioned this to my Musical Daughter, and she provided some information based on her enjoyment of “Antiques Roadshow” (or, nothing you ever learn is wasted). She knows of a certified appraiser in Son’s area, and he is happy to take it there. M.D. mentioned that I shouldn’t try to “clean it up” – I wouldn’t – and that I should try to provide a provenance. And I discovered a story there.
To the best of my knowledge, this violin has belonged to my family since the early part of the twentieth century. At that time my grandparents ran a grocery store. The violin was given to them to cover an unpaid grocery bill.
It is a full-sized violin – possibly a little large even for a full size. (It certainly was a big stretch for a ten-year-old.) The stamp inside indicates that it is more than one hundred fifty years old. If the stamp is the date it was actually made – as opposed to a batch name, for example – it’s closer to two hundred years.
I think my dad took music lessons briefly as a child. If so, that places the time they got it around 1920, since he was born in 1909. He later wanted to sell the violin, but my grandmother told him, “one day you’ll have a child who will play it.” Around 1950 I did indeed begin talking lessons, and I played until I finished high school. (So I don’t think anyone has played it for about forty-five years.)
The original ebony chin rest was replaced with a more comfortable rosewood one about fifty years ago. Otherwise, it is pretty much as it was when I began playing it.
Son and I pulled it out to look at it, and I’d say it’s in pretty good condition. I’ve tried to keep it out of extreme hot and cold over the years, and it’s wrapped in cloth inside the case. The strings and similar straps, made of gut or leather, have deteriorated. So the bridge fell out without strings to hold it in place, but it’s still there. So are all the other pieces, and you’ll just have to forgive me if I can’t remember the names of everything any more.
There’s no way I can put a value on the memories tied up in that fiddle, but they’re mine alone. Music – especially orchestras, but some chamber music as well – was a large part of my social life for some eight years. I have no doubt that those experiences shaped some of my later choices. (Like signing up for music appreciation in college, which turned out to be one of the worst courses I ever took!)
But if no one else in the family is going to play this violin, I would like to think that someone else could enjoy it. If it’s really valuable, I would be happy to take the money I could get for it. But if it is merely playable, I think I would like to donate it to some school program. I’m sure there still are students who need an instrument and can’t afford one. Helping a child find his/her potential would be a fitting remembrance to my Gramma.
