violin

During my research into the Dutch violin-making school, which I (Hubert de Launay) began over 11 years ago, I discovered that 17th-century violin makers in the Netherlands used a different construction method than what is taught today at the violin-making school. In fact, every maker had his own unique construction style within the city of Amsterdam, but that of the famous master violin maker Hendrik Jacobs is the most impressive—especially because it differed in almost every respect from the standard taught today. What particularly struck me was the use of linen in the rib construction. But also the construction of the corner blocks, the inlay made of whale bone, and tool marks that were visible in the scroll and around the violin’s binding.

I soon discovered that Jacobs did not use a mold when crafting his instruments. This is fundamentally different from modern violin making and influences the final result. Think of it as building a house, but without using scaffolding. Building without a mold gives the violin and the wood a little more freedom, allowing for a subtle, unique character in the final result.

Many experiments followed to learn how to bend the ribs, covered with linen, and to master other 17th-century construction techniques, such as the use of whalebone. Whale bone is nothing more than compressed hair (keratin), but it can best be described as a 17th-century plastic. Whale bone is a hard material and difficult to work with, but if it is first boiled in hot water, it becomes easy to bend—yet another violin-making technique that had been lost. Whale bone is, of course, illegal today, but I found a modern alternative: buffalo horn.

The further I progressed with the construction of my violin, the more questions I had about specific details. This is mainly because there isn’t a single Jacobs violin left today that is still in its original condition. It was thought that important original details had been lost due to damage, restorations, maintenance, and use. But after years of searching, I rediscovered many details that were thought to be lost. These were hidden in about ten instruments scattered across the globe and revealed details that could help me complete the first violin in 300 years to be built according to traditional Dutch construction methods. For example, I unearthed a Jacobs violin with its original neck in Seattle. I also found original ebony tuning pegs at the Musical Instrument Museum in Brussels, and details such as the material and design of the tailpiece were discovered in the Rijksmuseum’s storage. The final piece, which was of great importance to the violin’s acoustics—a description of an original Hendrik Jacobs bass bar—I found in a book from 1930. After a series of detours involving Sotheby’s London and the Metropolitan Museum in New York, I finally found the bass bar in question at a restorer’s shop in Chicago.

This journey, spanning many years, has taken me to numerous locations but has also brought me back to the use of traditional materials; the aforementioned tool marks around the edges and scroll of Hendrik Jacobs’s violin turned out to be made from dogfish skin. The coarse, spiny skin of this North Sea shark was used as sandpaper in the 17th century. My most recent violin is therefore not inspired by a single Jacobs instrument, but is the result of following the techniques that Jacobs must have used while crafting his masterpieces.

The violin was purchased by the Musical Instrument Fund with support from the Culture Fund and the VLB Fund Foundation. The violin is currently in the possession of Maaike van Dijk.