Chapter XVII: The Ideal Tone

The ideal tone is that which satisfies the player and also “holds the audience spell-bound.” It is said of a very famous violinist that he one day entered the shop of a celebrated London dealer and heard, in the room above, the tones of a violin with which he was instantly fascinated. This instrument he determined to possess, and succeeded, after much trouble, in finally becoming its owner at the handsome price of two thousand pounds. This violinist made his choice of tone through being, for the moment, a spell-bound audience of one, and not through playing upon the instrument himself. It is impossible adequately to judge tone by playing upon the fiddle; the player is too close; he cannot tell whether the tone is “carrying” or not; its beauties, or frailties, are, like a picture, only appreciated at a distance, and the violinist can no more get away from his tone than a singer can get away from his voice. But he has this advantage over the vocalist: he can become, so to speak, an audience and hear the tone-quality _inherent_ to a given instrument produced by another; but not, bear in mind, as _he_ will produce it. None the less he may, by this means, select his voice with a measurable degree of certainty, if he has some idea of what constitutes an ideal of violin tone. There are few matters connected with the violin approached more lightly and with less understanding than this question of ideals of tone, whether in the violin or the player. As we have seen in previous chapters, some violin makers ignore it entirely, being content simply to make the fiddle, just as some players ignore it, and are content merely to play the fiddle. These are continually seeking the instrument which, through the perfection of its tone, will turn them into virtuosi--a thing it never will do.

Although the great artist never hears himself as others hear him--even on the gramophone!--much experience enables him to know something of the tone effect he is producing. We studied this matter with a favourite pupil of the late Dr. Joachim for a subject, whose opinions on tone are interesting. “The most an artist can do,” he says, “is to study the tone of his violin with painstaking care, and, by constant practice, fit such tone ideals as he may possess to those of the instrument. This must be done with such thoroughness that the two ideals become one, otherwise he will be continually at conflict with his violin, and unable to devote an undivided attention to the expression of tone and technic in a manner which experience will teach him is most impressive to the hearer. This ‘manner’ of expression becomes in time, and in its turn, second nature, and only when this final point is reached is the artist entirely unconscious of possessing either a violin or method, and the expression of tone becomes untrammelled as the expression of thought--to which, indeed, it may be likened. This is the only ‘secret of tone,’ and, until it is accomplished, no player can truthfully say he understands, or is able to express, the true tone of the violin--or even such ideals as he may possess.”

I will now devote a short chapter to the method by which a tone ideal may be cultivated and acquired. It would certainly be too much to say this method (or any other) is an unfailing producer of virtuosity. It is but one of many guides, and, as such, I believe it cannot fail to interest every keen student of Tone.