DEL GESU PART 5. Lets take a look at the tumultuous 1730s in Cremona shall we? And how the following events were in some way the making of our hero. As armies clash in the War of the Polish Succession, Del Gesu returns to his father's workshop, heralding a period of profound transformation in his craft. Discover how this chaotic era influenced Del Gesu's violins, leading to a golden period of violin-making amidst the backdrop of war and occupation. Featuring insights from expert guests Jonathan Marolle, Joe Bein, Christopher Reuning, and John Dilworth, this episode charts the transition and innovation that marked Del Gesu's golden period.
The year was 1733 and the world beyond Cremona buzzed with talk of kings and crowns far away in Poland, king Augustus II the Strong, had died leaving behind a throne without an heir. It seemed a distant affair to the people of this quiet Lombard city on the Po River. Famous for its violins. Its craftsmen, and its golden fields. Yet even as the bells of the cathedral of Cremona tolled across the piazza whispers began. “The French are coming”, someone murmured. “For Poland?” came the puzzled reply “no” said another “for us”. In Poland, the nobles had gathered to elect a new king, many favoured Stanisław Leszczyński once a Polish monarch himself, and now the father-in-law of King Louis the 14th of France, the Polish monarchs were elected, but the Emperor Charles, the 6th of Austria and Empress, Anne of Russia, refused to accept a French backed candidate. They championed Augustus iii, the son of the late king, two kings were proclaimed and here comes the war for France and Spain. The Polish question was an excuse to strike at Austria's power, for Cremona it was the beginning of another unwanted war.
In a small shop near the Piazza Del Commune, a Violin maker, Giuseppe bent over his workbench, listening to the chatter outside his mind, going over the question. “They say, the emperor calls us his subjects, but now the French and the Spanish march this way, whose subjects will we be next month? It's the same everywhere. We make violins. They make widows” Outside Austrian soldiers marched through the square, their white coats bright against the grey stone. To the people of Cremona they were both protectors and occupiers. Foreign rulers who demanded loyalty, taxes and silence. But our hero, well, he'd married the daughter of one, perhaps he spoke a bit of German. She could at least make herself understood. By 1734, the storm had broken French and Spanish troops allied to defend Stanisław claim poured across the Alps into northern Italy. The Austrians already fighting on too many fronts, fell back towards Mantua and Parma. Soon the fertile fields between the Po and the Olgio rivers became the front lines of Europe's quarrel, the Battle of Parma thundered. Only a day's ride from Cremona cannon's roared from the distant hills and smoke rose like storm clouds. Weeks later came another clash, the battle of Guastala so close that the ground in Cremona trembled under foot. Well, I might be exaggerating. Refugees streamed through the city gates, fields lay trampled bread grew scarce. The sound of music was replaced by the crack of muskets.
They fight for the Polish crown people were saying in the market, but they break Italian hearts to do it. By 1735 Prince Charles Bourbon, a young and fiery commander from Spain, had taken the lead in the southern campaigns. His victories in Naples and Sicily filled Europe with his name in Cremona. Rumours spread that he would soon March North again. When Spanish troops entered the city that spring, they came weary, but triumphant. The Austrians had retreated. The people watched from behind shuttered windows as new banners. Red and gold flooded over the Citadel. Is this victory? You think Katarina asked Giuseppe? No. He replied. Setting down his tools. This is another kind of silence. For months, Cremona was caught between armies, supplies were seized, workshops turned to barracks. Yet amid the fear, acts of kindness, glimmered, nuns tending the wounded families, sharing bread with strangers, children carrying water to soldiers on the streets, even in war, Cremona refused to lose its soul while the people of Lombardy suffered.
Stanisław Leszczyński, the man for whom this war had begun was trapped in the city of Dansik, besieged by Russian and Saxon troops. He waited for French help that never truly came. The city fell and the Would-be king escaped in disguise, wandering through forests until he found refuge in Prussia.
When the news reached Cremona, Katarina sighed, “all this, our field, our hunger for a king who has no crown”. Giuseppe Guarneri nodded. “That is the music of Europe, my dear. The tune is always played far away, but we danced to it here”. At last, in 1738, weary diplomats signed the Treaty of Vienna. The war that had begun for Poland's throne finally ended. The peace settled like dust after a storm, Augustus III was confirmed as King of Poland, Stanisław Leszczyński. The exile received Lorraine in France as his consolation prize Nancy the city where he set up his capital is very close to Mirecourt in the Vosges. And this dutchie of Lorraine after his death would go to the King of France. So if you ever want to go visit the French heart Violin making in Mirecourt, you can pop up to Nancy and see the Place Stanislas. Now, France would inherit Lorraine after his death, and Spain gained Naples and Sicily for the young Charles of Bourbon. Austria, though weakened, reclaimed Lombardi and Cremona. When Austrian banners returned, the people no longer cheered or cursed. They simply watched tired of change. Although for Giuseppe, he was still making through this time and soldiers, they were still clients. And when all these soldiers left, that meant clients had gone. But it also meant real estate was opening up for he and his wife, and he wasn't going to complain about peace.
So we're back in Cremona. It's the early 1730s and our young Giuseppe Guarneri Del Gesu has returned home. He's back working alongside his father. Something he probably would've preferred not to do, but well then here we are. And after years of drifting, trying his luck elsewhere, maybe even working in another workshop, he is back where it all began, only now things are different. The instruments he's making don't quite look like his father's anymore. And there's a new feel, a new confidence as if Del Gesu is finally starting to find his own voice. His father, Giuseppe filius Andrea is older, now unwell, carving scrolls in the corner while his son finishes off the instruments he can't complete together. They're producing the last of the filius Andrea violins. But it is clear the torch is being passed, and as this is going on, Cremona itself is in chaos. The war of the Polish succession has spilled into Italy. Soldiers are marching through the streets. Taxes have tripled. It's a lot, but in the middle of all that noise, in this small, dusty workshop, Del Gesu is quietly reinventing himself.
This is where the story really starts to shift, where Del Gesu begins to step out of his father's shadow and into his own skin. Now we come back to the young Giuseppe Guarneri Del Gesu and he is back working with his father. Some people think that in the years he was not with his father, he may have continued to make instruments finding employment. In another workshop outside of Cremona, one of his earliest surviving instruments with an original label, the Baltic of 1731, shows many stylistic differences to the instruments made by his father. It has also been suggested that many of his working techniques from 1731 were also different from those he would have been taught in his youth. Where was he to be influenced in such a way? Mm-hmm. But first things first, he would begin by finishing off the instruments hanging around that his father had started but hadn't the energy to finish. He glued the fillus Andrea labels into these last violins and cellos. These would be Giuseppe Filius Andreas last instruments, the last of the original Filius Andrea labels that we know of are from the year 1731. And while this kind of makes sense, as these would have been the last instruments he was able to make or started making with his son Del Gesu, finished for him. And it is also these instruments that you hear of becoming Del Gesu’s sometimes that they were originally, uh, identified as Giuseppe Guarneri filius Andreas. They were actually often collaborations.
It was a cool autumn morning, and Giuseppe Guarneri Del Gesu was on his way to the printer to have a new set of labels printed out for himself. These were different to anything the family had done so far. He was not going to mention Santa Teresa on his labels like his father, grandfather, and sometimes uncle had done. He had never done this, so he was not gonna do it now, he was going to make this clear and simple. His new label design simply had his name, Giuseppe Guarneri, where it was made Cremona and when it was made, I know 1731, for example, next to it was the sign IHS was there a sign IHS on his new workshop building to let people know where to find him. Was this a distinct marker to set him apart from his father was a superstition or a bit of all three? Who knows? But what we do know is that this new label with the IHS symbol and cross would many years later earn him his most famous nickname that of Del Gesu. IHS is an ancient Christian symbol representing the first three letters in Greek of Jesus's name. In Latin, it was used as an abbreviation of Yesus dom, Salvato, Jesus' Savior of man. It was also a symbol used by a great many religious orders, lay companies and societies as a symbol of Christ. hence the name Jesu and as I mentioned in a previous episode, the symbol could just as easily have been an address or a way to find the workshop. His father's instruments were under the sign of Saint Teresa, the Venetian maker Dominica Montagnana signed his instruments at the sign of Cremona sub signum Cremonae. Over in Milan, you could find most instrument makers in the Via Larga, and they all had their own distinctive shop sign. Grancino was at the sign of the Crown, Landolfi worked at the sign of the siren, and Carlo Giuseppe Testori was at the sign of the dog howling at the moon.
This move and new label really marks a golden period in Del Gesu’s instrument making. We see influences coming from Stradivari and a fluid affirming style. He has strong thicknesses of wood, low stiff linings, and quite large open cut sound holes through the markings and pins he uses. We see that he's not experimenting with different construction techniques, but rather sticking to the traditional method, taught to him by his father. We find the trusted central back pin on his instruments that Stradivari does not use, for example. But what you ask is happening with the older Giuseppe Guarneri. Well, he is in his sixties and after coming home from the bacterial swamp, that was 18th century hospitals of his day, he was in no fit state to make a complete instrument, but he could still prove himself useful. He had always been a proficient scroll carver, and now in his weakened state. That is what he would continue to do at his own workbench in the corner. I like to imagine he would continue to help his son by carving scroll after scroll. Goodness knew his son left his own devices would never have the same movement in his carvings as he did so for now, Del Gesu’s Instruments would predominantly be the work of both father and son.
The year is 1733 and young Giuseppe Del Gesu is witnessing a document for the local priest, but all anyone can talk about is the war and how on earth are they going to pay these new taxes that had tripled in their amount almost overnight. They were struggling to buy bread, let alone pay more taxes. It was the war of the Polish succession, and once again, Cremona was finding herself in the middle of continued conflict. Seriously, Poland was nowhere near Cremona or Lombardi, but the French and the Austrians were fighting over the control of Milan. I mean, any excuse really, and they were at it again. The French had decided that Cremona was just the place to set up camp and house their enormous number of soldiers. Let's see how this pans out, shall we?
In the autumn of 1733, the War of the Polish succession spilled over into Italy, and Cremona was once again in the center of action, well gotta say it, it was the French again. They just turned up unexpectedly and took over Cremona relatively quickly. I might add. Well, it was the French and the Piedmontese, and so for the next three years there were troops and soldiers coming in and out of the city creating a stressful atmosphere all round. The citizens were once again faced with an uncertain future and smothered by hundreds of troops inundating the city, stretching its resources. Carlo Emmanuel ii. He was the guy occupying the city, the Duke of Savoy. He was really concentrating on winning his war, and as the French would say, you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs. And right at this moment, his priority was looking after his army. So he lost little time in raising the taxes of the Cremonese, requesting food and finding lodgings for his boys. It seemed like Cremona was the egg to be cracked for this particular omelette. Here's Julian Thompson playing on his Filius Andrea Guarneri cello that Del Gesu finished for his father after he fell Ill.
Joe Bain talking about Del Gesu’s instruments of the 1730s after his father falls ill and he returns to help out.
Right. And that's just, I mean, and, and, and I think it was Duane Rosengard and Carlo Chiesa who discovered that his father was medically, uh, you know, was he, he was in a hospital and he was unable to work and that he was, they used a phrase that normally was associated with somebody being terminally ill. But you know, thankfully he lived another decade. Um. That's, and that's, you know, that story is then sort of like the impetus for that cello, you know, the cello and so, you know, for those who don't know, there's a sort of a, there's a single Guarneri Del Gesu cello, as far as I'm aware anyway, and this is a Violin it's from 1730 and has an original Filius Andrea Guarneri label. But when you look at it has these like very vertical F holes, and then the wings just kind of like bend because there's that like awkward transition that you see in a lot of his instruments from that period. And the scroll is a de Guarneri Del Gesu scroll. And, you know, he Guarneri Filius Andrea was physically unable to build that instrument. Yeah. And so, um, you know, and that was something that kind of was floated around as a Giuseppe Guarneri Filius Andrea, but there were these internal records from, from the Hills or from Jacques Francais or from Wurlitzer being like, I see a lot of Del Gesu’s here, but they just didn't think he built any cellos. But then when it became obvious that, or when, when it became known that he was unable to actually, that fearless was unable to build anything that year, then we recognized like, oh, this is a Del Gesu Cello. Yeah. And it's the one, but yeah. But for me it's like the, I think the heart is the first one that really kind of like transitions into something different, you know?
And then we get the Kreisler of course. Hmm. you know, just a couple years later, which is, I think people have called it 30 and you know, you could also, you know, say maybe it's more like a 33. But you know, to me like those, those two fiddles kind of transition into something different. Sorry. And then when, is there a time where you see, 'cause he has really beautiful wood Guarneri Del Gesu often, and is there a time when it that starts, like there's a moment where he's obviously acquired this really nice, um, maple, you know, it's not like, to me it's not like, it's not as clear cut to me. Like with, with Antonio Stradivari where clearly something happens in like 1699 and like you start seeing like there's a violin called the Reese, which is a gorgeous long pattern when all of a sudden he's importing this like fancy maple from the north. He stops using like the local oppio that most all of his predecessors in Cremona use, but certainly, you know, by like, you know, 30, 31, 32, 33, like, he's starting to use things that look, you know, pretty flashy. Um, like the Baltic for example. You know, I mean, that's a gorgeous one piece back that is something that you would see on a Carlo Bergonzi violin from the same period actually, so, you know, was there. And so, and what date, what date is that? The Baltic is right around like 31. 31, um, you know, 31, 32.
The Dankla also is an early example, which has a beautiful one piece back but, you know, but the, it's, I'm curious, like, is there a connection between that supply of Maple and the Maple that Carlo Bergonzi was using to make his most beautiful instruments between, you know, 33 and 38 roughly? You know, do you think they're similar?
The wood it's similar, I mean, it's also similar to like really beautiful one piece backs that Alessandro Galliano used, you know, so, you know, hundreds of miles away in Naples, so I don't know if there's a connection or not. And is it similar to Pietro Guarneri of Venice's wood? I, I don't know if I read that somewhere. And then I was thinking, oh, maybe his brother could have bought some wood and sent him some wood.
But, but yeah, he could have, I mean, you know, there's a, I mean, I think like their, like their relationship and how it existed after their father became ill is, is fascinating to me. And, you know, did, did they ever see each other? Did they communicate? Did they. Did they spend the summer with one another? I mean, like, who knows?
He did. I mean, he came back when the father died. Yes. To the will. Mm-hmm. He did come back for that. Um, but that's the only one that they found the documentation of. But you know, they're not gonna make a legal document if he just goes for a holiday. Right. So, and then I was thinking after 1707, you've got the, um, the Austrians take control of Cremona. You've got all the right, the Spanish are pushed out. And so that's got to do with that also affects trade. So their trade links with Spain will stop and it opens up all of the Holy Roman empire. So it'll, it's opening up to all the Austrian, uh, and that's where you get the flood of cheap Austrian instruments 'cause of the trade.
So the, the geopolitics has a, maybe a role in it as well. Yeah, and I think if you, um, I think if you look at Peter Guarneri of Venice's work, there is a period at like right at 1739 or 1740 when he uses, in my opinion, like by far and away his flashiest one piece back maple instruments. And does that come from Eastern? Where does that come from? Do we know where that, that would come from?
Normally that, normally that comes from north, like in the Baltic regions. Yeah. Um, and that's, that needs to be imported. So he would've had greater access to it, probably in Venice than, you know, being Cremona. Um, but in 1739, 40, that's when you get the Baron Knoop, um, which is sort of like, which is kind of the trophy specimen. Peter of Venice. Um, that's in the Fondazione , um, permanently, but you also get the Beatrice Harrison Jello of like 39 and you get, there's like a series of like six or seven instruments that have this just like gorgeous one piece back. Um, and, and there it's a flatter model and it's like they're fantastic sounding. And uh, but then the, the Beatrice Harrison, which was again one of Dave Fulton's cellos, um, the whole thing is made of that. Like the ribs are made of that, the back is made of that and it's like the most glamorous cello I've ever been around. Um, just bar none. But anyway. But then with Del Gesu then, you know, you have these, like really, I think you have these wonderful instruments like the Kreisler, and you have, there are two Lafonts.
There's a Lafont that's like from 36 that has like a two piece oppio back that Nigel Kennedy played on. And it has a scroll by the maker, but what's not original. And then, that's a great fiddle, but there's a, there's a 1733 Lafont that belongs to the Chime Foundation. And that also to me like that's this transition, you know, where he is getting out of this narrow wasted pattern and it's becoming, becoming more of what we recognize. And again, like the upper eyes become a little bit better. Um, and that's a fiddle that if you, if you have the, the nerdy violin books that we all have, like that's in the, really nice 1730 to 1750 Cremona expo, uh, it's pictured. Mm-hmm. It's pictured in there, you know, but again, like those, you know, those upper wings, they like point straight up, you know, almost in some of these fiddles. And the, and the, the f setting is like very vertical. Um, it's almost like a goalpost in American football or something like that. But, and then I've always been fascinated by like, something happens in 1735 where like, you know, once you get to like 34, 35, you start seeing like the absolute masterpieces.
Wait a second. Wait, wait, wait. He's born in sixteen, ninety eight, thirty five. So he's almost at his midlife crisis.
Well, yeah, he didn't know, but he was actually at his like three quarters midlife crisis. 'cause he only lived to be 46. But unfortunately,
but maybe he was questioning his mortality and what he was making and so he's gone in a different direction.
Well, yeah. I mean, aside from Stradivari, I mean, most of his friends and people he knew. Yeah. They, they didn't live as long. Um, but it's funny, there's like this dichotomy of instruments that happens in the middle of the 1730s. And so you have like, you know, you have the Diable and you have the Plowden and you have the Degville, um, you have the King, which is the one in Zagreb, which I've never seen, but I have, I've never heard of a bad thing I’ve heard it as just exemplary in every way. Uh, I haven't seen it since I was, I guess I was technically in the same room with it at the Guarneri exhibit at the Met in 1994, but, and get to touch it. Um, yeah, but I, I would love to spend some time with that fiddle. I've heard great things about it and I have wonderful pictures, but, um, but then there's these other types of violins that are like super tiny during the same period. So then he makes this like smaller pattern too. So there's like the Mary Portman and the Sennhauser. There is like the Huberman and like the Russian State instrument. And these are all like pretty, these are really tiny. These are almost like seven eighths and there's a lot. And then you start seeing these slab cutbacks too, uh, right around then. And there's not a lot of them, you know, for Del Gesu, but there's like a successive run of them in like this around 35. And so again, it's like the, it's the Sennhauser, the uh, the Russian State, uh, things like that. And so I'm, I've always been curious like what was going through his mind where it's like, uh, he's making like two very different types of violence at the same time. I mean, basically within 24 months. Okay. And like I said, it's like the, you know, the dabble and the, and the King and the Plowden. I mean, these are on the hill nine list, right? I mean, if, like, if we really had to pick the nine, you know, the Diable the King and the Plowden are all there, um, of the nine greatest Del Gesu’s according to the hills.
Why did they just, why didn't they do 10? Why did they do nine? That's so annoying.
It is odd, isn't it? It's like, I don't know, is it just the English? Is it the British? Let's annoy everyone and do nine and not 10, because it's like, what? It wouldn't have killed them to put the vieuxtemps Yeah. It's like, well, why? Yeah. And it's like, what could your, you didn't put, you didn't want put the Vieuxtemps Del Gesu on top there, like to make it 10. Like would anybody object to that?
Um, could you, sorry, could you talk to me about, um, oppio wood? 'cause you've mentioned it a few times. Could you just explain? Um, so to me, um, Oppio wood is, uh, the maple that is indigenous to the Lombardi region where they all lived and made. And so looking at, um, and it's usually it's a narrower curl, like when you're looking at the back. So the, the horizontal lines are narrower, in other words. And you see it, increasingly, especially with the, with the Cremonese makers of the 17th century. You see it on Andrea Guarneri's and you see it on Rugeri's and you see it on early Stradivari’s and you see it on, um, you know, Amati’s aside from maybe like some of the really glamorous slab cut grand patterns that Nicolo made in the fifties, but that's what was available.
It, it seems like it wasn't until, you know, I mean, and, and this is true today too, like you can, you can sometimes judge a maker's success by like the quality of their materials or any craftsman for that matter, uh, not just the violin trade. It wasn't until Stradivari with his incredible success throughout the 1680s and the 1690s that he then was able to import this more expensive maple from the north. So the north we believe is like, you know, the Baltic region. It's almost like Croatia area. And you see this transition, like there are some 1699 fiddles. Like if you look at Gil Shaham's Stradivari, the Princess Polignac Antonio Stradivari that has a twin to it called the Reese. And they both have this back. And you see these early, the early 18th century fiddles, like oh 1, 0 2, 0 3, like the lady Harmsworth Stradivari and uh, the Irish and things like that. And they have this back and this wood just, it wasn't there and it had to come from somewhere else. And it seems like because he was so wildly successful and wealthy, he had the means to bring in the finer materials. And maybe with all the wars, the trade was disrupted as well. And it was easier to get locally source, timber.
Okay. And I actually put a last sort of period for Guarneri Filius Andrea, and that was from after his medical condition, 1730 to 1740. And that was just him, his production of scrolls for his son. That's right. I, I'm, I'm quite sure that, well, we don't know. I, I do know a couple of very. Old man violins without labels that were all his work and who knows if those were made in 25 or 23 or 32, or you know, who knows? I mean, we just don't know. Not a single label in there. Yeah. And I find it's hard to talk about Elia Andrea without talking about Jesu. 'cause they really are intertwined. It's, it's not this linear thing. They're, they're, um, yeah, they do sort of dipping in each out of the, the work.
That's really interesting. But I, I think it's interesting to, to pay attention to something else that happened right around 29 and 30 17, 29, 17 30. Pivotal time in Cremona because in 29, Filius went in the hospital for whatever reason. You don't go in the hospital unless it's really serious in those, in those days and it apparently he never made any more instruments after that. Yeah, he made scrolls. That's the time that Giovanni Batista, Stradivari died. He was the third son who was the heir to Stradivari. And when he died, Stradivari wrote his last will and testament, you know, seven different versions of it, and, um, apparently came out of some semi-retirement. So, so those are three huge pivotal events in the violin making world, in, you know, in, in a very short time span. And if you look at what happened to Del Gesu. And to Bergonzi, they both went from being probably some kind of part-time violin maker to very productive violin makers who also transform their models significantly. And they transformed their models in the same direction. They started to make the closest they ever came to Stradivari. That's when, Del Gesu started making the violins that looked like the Kreisler. Which the Stradivari of all, that group of instruments, the Hart the Kreisler.
There's a group of those violins that all look like Antonio Stradivari’s They all were made around 29, 30, 31, that period of time. And same thing with Carlo Bergonzi he started becoming a very productive violin maker. Instead of making very few instruments a year, he, he started being a very productive maker. And he made, he changed his model to a really close to Antonio Stradivari, right? So why, why did that happen? Maybe they saw there was a opportunity the, the young heir dies from Antonio Stradivari, and the only people left are three very old men in Stradivari shop. Maybe Giuseppe Guarneri Del Gesu and Carlo Bergonzi both thought there was a business opportunity to become serious full-time violin makers.
The city of Cremona had about 20,000 citizens. Where did Carlo Emmanuel think he was going to lodge his 12,000 troops? There were only so many resources to go round, Guarneri Del Gesu’s Father, even now, is telling his son stories of the invasion of Cremona in his younger years when he, the younger Giuseppe, was a small boy and the streets were filled with badly behaved French soldiers. Inflation was ridiculous and it was “shameful”. A neighbour piped in on the way the military had expelled the inhabitants of the monasteries to set up hospitals for their soldiers. Where were these good people supposed to go? The Austrians had treated them well, but these French and Pierre Monte were encourage able.
For three years, they would stay in Cremona. The winter months were the worst. The military campaigns would stop and thousands of rowdy troops had to be entertained, or they would wreak havoc in the town. Even now, there were reports at the market of the countryside emptying because of the soldier's incessant farm raiding. The prior Saint Augustino would tell anyone who is willing to listen that over the years of occupation, 17,000 soldiers died in the monastery/hospital. In Cremona troops on both sides of the conflict were committing countless acts of vandalism in the countryside surrounding Cremona. And where does this leave our violin maker you ask? Well, Del Gesu was 35 years old and the youngest violin maker in town. In fact, the formidable Stradivari and his elegant workshop may have been out of reach for many, a young player, but the younger Guarneri was so much more approachable and affordable. There were hundreds of soldiers in town these days. They needed entertainment, and Del Gesu had never been so busy in his professional life than he was in these years in which the city was occupied. The years 1732 to 1736 were the most productive of his life. The older Giuseppe was helping out making scrolls. But what of Guarneri Del Gesu’s wife, Caterina? She was able bodied and had no children to look. After the couple lived in cramped accommodations with five other families, what would she have been doing all day? Cremona was in a militarily strategic position and an ideal spot for a war council or two staying in town were foreign aristocrats and seeing as there was no local theatre, ugh, such a boar. Well, they brought their own entertainment, musicians arrived in Cremona with the army and lost no time in making friends with the local minstrels. Together they founded L’accademia musicale, musical academy that performed and taught young musicians that were now more and more in demand with the influx of military troops. The majority of these musicians were violinists. And so despite the ravages of war, the musical culture of Cremona, in fact, benefited from this trying period do. Del Gesu was making violin after violin, and perhaps the speedy execution of some of his work can be understood in this context, business was going well. Del Gesu’s father was able to pay off some of his debts, and finally there was a functioning working relationship between father and son.
John Dillworth, talking about the production coming out of the Guarneri workshop in Cremona in these years.
And they, and they were making them for a, I think for a working clientele, you know, for actual musicians. So they were driven by what the musicians wanted rather than what, um, the Duke of Burgundy wanted or, you know, to furnish his chateau, you know? Yes. Until he, until Filius's death. And it was 1738, wasn't it? Um, and I, there seemed to be one or two left that Guarneri Del Gesu was able to use for a year or so after that. The very earliest Del Gesu’s have his own scroll on them up to 17, 29, 30. Yeah. And they're clearly the same work that reappears in 1739, 1740 to the end. It's the same style. The ones in between from 30 to 38 are exactly the same as. Filius is earlier work. It was one thing he could do. You know, maybe he, yeah, he was just sat down that he could, and I mean, he'd been doing it all his life. He could cut out a scroll in 10 minutes and that's what he did. Um, and Del Gesu used them and, and I think Guarneri frankly wasn't interested in scrolls at all. And the ones that he makes they are so weird. Well, I, it's, you know, it's not even, this is my late in life controversial idea that really Del Gesu did not care. He was like all these, like his father, you know, they were in poverty, they had problems and um, he had a wife to support. He didn't have any children to help him. I mean, children were an asset. They weren't necessarily a, a burden once you had children. Oh, you can, they, become your assistant at the age of 10 or something. You know, you didn't have that and he tried being a, an innkeeper for a bit, or, but it was the only thing he knew how to do. It was the only thing he could do, but he was basically not that bothered.
Finally, in 1735, the French put on their nice Italian leather boots and marched or ambled out of Cremona and left the city to the Austrians once again. Giuseppe Guarneri Del Gesu had been doing so well in these last few years. He was almost sorry to see them go, but what happened when one third of a city's population literally just walks away, is this. Cheap real estate. Woo. There were free houses to rent now that all the French troops were gone, and he had done well for himself in these last few years. So Katarina and Del Gesu moved into a new home, a small building, all to themselves. In the year 1736, the immense strain these soldiers had been putting on the resources of the city was now over, and yet it left a void as well. Now that the war was over and the carnival season was coming up, the people of Cremona were not just celebrating Easter that was soon to arrive, they were celebrating the fact that the army had left town, and now they could breathe a sigh of relief and party maybe a bit too much according to the notary diarist Cavali who noted with disdain in a diary entry, “the carnival season, culminating in an excessive display during this bacchanalia,” this excessive display of merriment by the common people was a bit too much for him. The French were gone and had turned over the city to the Austrians once again.
Jonathan Marolle talking about this period where Del Gesu goes back and is working with his father in the thirties.
There's a shift when you see that he's responsible for, carving the scrolls. You can see that the, on Del Gesu instruments, you can clearly recognize when a scroll is made by Filius Andrea, but the rest of the violin is made by Del Gesu. That's where it started to, uh, design his model, this new model so you have beautiful instrument. I think the best to me, instruments made in the thirties. I'm thinking of the Camp 1738, for instance, which is absolutely, um, wonderful instrument, stunning instrument. The Adam, also in the same year. Yeah. Many beautiful instruments with nice wood, nicely done actually, you know, with a good, good work. Like the quality of the work is great is, uh, the outline, the purfling, the wood used and the quality of the varnish. It's very beautiful. It's not as neat and precise as a, a beautiful Stradivari of course, but it's clearly a maker capable of crafting beautiful instruments. So I, yeah, I would say this is the, the, the second period
you know, you have this highly prolific workshop. You have as people, I think know of these, all of these wonderful instruments in the, in the middle of the thirties, most of them have scrolls by his father. So, I mean, that's kind of like a, an acknowledged fact for, the listeners is that the early and late Del Gesu’s seem to have, you know, they have his individual scrolls, whereas the middle period ones generally have scrolls that are made by Guarneri Filius Andrea or made by his father. So you have this like, yeah, you have this very interesting thing in the middle of the 1730s where he's, you know, alternating between making these like real masterpieces that are, you know, still today, considered some of the most beautiful violins on earth and he is making some of these smaller pattern instruments as well to try and mix it up. And then you get to this next period for me where it's like, you know, 37, 38, you know, for me it's like, I think if you look at these three great makers in Cremona in the 1730s and you have Carlo Bergonzi and Guarneri del Gesu and of course Antonio Stradivari and. For me, and I think you, you see, they're like, they're all kind of on the same path. And I would consider like Del Gesu and Bergonzi to be very, you know, to be more Stradivarian in their composition. You know, 35, 36, 37. They're more symmetrical. They're more even, they seem to be following a certain, you know, type of making and a certain style. And then, you know, with Del Gesu, I think, you know, the peak of that might be the Kemp, which has an original label for 1738. But I wonder if like the Kemp was like made it the beginning of 1738 because there's only one thing that happened in Cremona in December of 1737.
So what happened in 1737? Well, you'll have to wait for the next episode to find that one out because we are still hanging around in the early 1730s here. So we're back in Cremona. It's the early 1730s, and our young Giuseppe Guarneri Del Gesu has returned home. He's back working alongside his father. Something he probably would've preferred not to do, but well then here we are and after years of drifting, trying his luck elsewhere, maybe even working in another workshop, he is back where it all began. Only now things are different. The instruments he's making don't quite look like his father's anymore. And there's a new feel, a new confidence as if Del Gesu is finally starting to find his own voice. His father, Giuseppe Fillus. Andrea is older now unwell, carving scrolls in the corner while his son finishes off the instruments he can't complete together. They're producing the last of the filius Andrea violins. But it is clear the torch is being passed, and as this is going on, Cremona itself is in chaos. The war of the Polish succession has spilled into Italy. Soldiers are marching through the streets. Taxes have tripled. It's a lot. But in the middle of all that noise in this small, dusty workshop, Guarneri Del Gesu is quietly reinventing himself. This is where the story really starts to shift, where Del Gesu begins to step out of his father's shadow and into his own skin.
As the 1730s unfold, we find Giuseppe Guarneri Del Gesu back where it all began in the family workshop side by side with the father. He once tried to escape. Together. They finished the last instruments of filius Andrea, the old master carving scrolls from his corner bench while his son stamps his independence with a new label, a simple IHS a sign that will one day make him immortal, around them Cremona trembles under the weight of soldiers', boots in the sting of new taxes. The war of the Polish succession has reached their doors, and yet amid the noise of marching armies and hammering hooves, people still need their violins, don't they ever? These are the years of transition of endings and beginnings. When the sun's voice starts to rise above the fathers, the label reads Del Gesu, and a new chapter in Violin making is just beginning.
Well, Del Gesu’s chapter anyway, in our next episode, we'll step deeper into this golden period when Del Gesu’s style grows bolder, freer, and becomes unmistakably his own. And let's admit it a bit weird, even as the world around him unravels in war.
I'd like to thank my lovely guests, Jonathan Marolle, Joe Bein, Christopher Reuining, and John Dilworth.
Thank you for listening to this episode of The Violin Chronicles. Be sure to subscribe and sign up to Patreon if you haven't done so already. And now we are going to continue for the Patreons. Thank you for listening to this episode of The Violin Chronicles.
And now we are going to continue for the Patreons in this Patreon bonus episode. We'll be having extra content from the interview I have with Joe Bein and in the. Discussion I have with Antoine will be looking at the mysterious back central pin amongst other characteristics to tick off your, you know, police detective notepad when looking at instruments.
