The Violin Chronicles Podcast

Ep 31. Pietro Guarneri of Mantua part 4

Here we are! The final chapter in the life of Pietro Guarneri of Mantua, a distinguished violin maker, and his experiences during a turbulent period in history. Pietro's mother-in-law joins their household in 1700. Pietro's style of violin making has evolved substantially, reflecting the broader and bolder designs of his instruments.
However, family tensions arise as his brother Giuseppe fails to pay Pietro his share of their father's inheritance, eventually resolving the dispute after several years. Meanwhile, historical events significantly impact Pietro’s life. The death of the King of Spain in 1700 sparks the War of Spanish Succession, embroiling Mantua in conflict as the French and Austrians vie for control over northern Italian territories.
This period sees devastating consequences for Pietro's family, including the death of his daughter Eleonora and the chronic instability caused by shifting political powers. Despite these challenges, Pietro continues his craft, even as the Austrians eventually claim Mantua what will happen to our violin maker Pietro Guarneri?
Personal tragedies persist with the death of more children, but Pietro forges on, making exquisite instruments until his death in 1720. 
Mantua is transforming how will the art of the violin makers survive this upheaval? 
 

Ep 30. Pietro of Mantua Part 3

Welcome back to the complex and eventful life of Pietro Guarneri of Mantua. This episode explores Pietro's struggle of managing six children alone, the influence of Jacob Steiner on his instruments, and the familial conflicts over inheritance.  We look at Pietro's work for the court of Mantua, including his decorated instruments with the fleur de lis patterns, why did he do this? Find out all! The episode also touches on the personal hardships Pietro faced, such as the death of his wife Caterina and subsequent remarriage to Lucia Birani. Financial challenges, especially related to dowries and house payments, are prominent, alongside Pietro's continuous dedication to his craft and the musical court despite political instability. Andrea Guarneri's death left a few curved balls for his sons to sort out, let see how the brothers (Pietro of Mantua and Giuseppe Filius Andrea) manage. 
 

Ep 29. Pietro of Mantua Part 2

In this episode of The Violin Chronicles, the life of Pietro Guarneri, Andrea Guarneri's eldest son, continues as he and his wife Caterina move to Mantua, a culturally rich yet politically tumultuous city. This episode opens a window onto Pietro's daily life, his tasks for the imprudent Duke Ferdinando Carlo, and the socio-political environment of 17th-century Mantua. This episode also explores the impact of European power struggles, particularly the War of the Spanish Succession, on the Guarneri family and Mantuan society. Pietro's craftsmanship, family dynamics, and interactions with the declining ducal court stand at the forefront, offering a rich historical tapestry in which our violin maker despite tough times was making a go of it.

Ep 28. Pietro Guarneri of Mantua Part 1

Never get your Pietro Guarneri's mixed up again! Pietro Guarneri of Mantua was Andrea Guarneri's eldest son, both a talented maker and musician, so why did he leave his home town to go work for a narcissistic socialite down the road? Find out as we take a look at this often forgotten Guarneri at the opulent and downright turbulent court of the Gonzaga's. 
 Pietro Guarneri of Mantua, a fascinating yet often overlooked figure in violin making history. This episode covers Pietro's colourful life, beginning with his birth in Cremona in 1655, his early years working alongside his father Andrea Guarneri, and his move to Mantua. Pietro's journey is marked by personal tragedies, including the loss of his first child, and professional aspirations driven by his exceptional talent both as a craftsman and a musician. The episode also delves into the political complexities of Mantua, its court life, and the intrigues surrounding its rulers. Pietro's move to Mantua to work under the Gonzaga court, his successful establishment as both a musician and an instrument maker, and the legacy he left behind form the crux of this engaging historical account.

Ep 27. Andrea Guarneri Part 2. his 3 sons and his 3 wills.

Continue listening to the life of Andrea Guarneri, student of Nicolo Amati and father of 2 very important violin makers.
To listen to this episode I invite you to sign up to Patreon, you can do this at Patreon/thevioinchronicles.com
 

Ep 26. Andrea Guarneri Part 1 The founding father

Andrea Guarneri was the first in the line of Guarneri violin makers and he is the link with the Amati family, having been apprenticed to Nicolo Amati, but as you will see this family will soon break away from the Amati tradition and start creating their own unique style. 
the Guarneri family of violin makers. Take a look with me at Andrea's early life amidst war, famine, and the plague, and his apprenticeship under the esteemed Niccolo Amati, who had lost many family members to the plague.
Andrea becomes a trusted apprentice and eventually moves out of the Amati household to get married to Anna Maria Orcelli. How will Andrea evolve in his work and business success working just around the corner from the great Nicolo Amati?

Ep 25. Giovanni Battista Rogeri Part 2

In this second episode on Giovanni Battista Rogeri we look at his family and children. Living in Brescia also meant that Rogeri was in the heart of an Opera loving people close to Venice and an exciting time musically and instrumentally.

Ep 24. Giovanni Battista Rogeri Part I

Giovanni Battista Rogeri has often been confused with other makers such as the Rugeri family, because of his name, and Giovanni Paolo Maggini, because of his working style. Trained in the famous workshop of Nicolo Amati in Cremona, Rogeri set out to make a name for himself in Brescia creating a Cremonese Brescian fusion. Learn all about this often mistaken maker in this first episode on the life of Giovanni Battista Rogeri. 
 This is the story of Giovanni Battista Rogeri the Cremonese trained violin maker who made it big in Brescia and has since been confused with other makers throughout history. Florian Leonhard talks about the influences Rogeri pulled on and exactly why his instruments have for so long been attributed to Giovanni Paolo Maggini.
 
Transcript
 
 Far, far away in a place called Silene, in what is now modern day Libya, there was a town that was plagued by an evil venom spewing dragon, who skulked in the nearby lake, wreaking havoc on the local population. To prevent this dragon from inflicting its wrath upon the people of Silene, the leaders of the town offered the beast two sheep every day in an attempt to ward off its reptilian mood swings.
But when this was not enough, they started feeding the scaly creature a sheep and a man. Finally, they would offer the children and the youths of the town to the insatiable beast, the unlucky victims being chosen by lottery.  As you can imagine, this was not a long term sustainable option. But then, one day, the dreaded lot fell to the king's daughter. The king was devastated and offered all his gold and silver, if only they would spare his beloved daughter.  The people refused, and so the next morning at dawn, the princess approached the dragon's lair by the lake, dressed as a bride to be sacrificed to the hungry animal.  It just so happened that a knight who went by the name of St George was passing by at that very moment and happened upon the lovely princess out for a morning stroll. Or so he thought. But when it was explained to him by the girl that she was in fact about to become someone else's breakfast and could he please move on and mind his own business he was outraged on her behalf and refused to leave her side.  Either she was slightly unhinged and shouldn't be swanning about lakes so early in the morning all by herself, or at least with only a sheep for protection, or she was in grave danger and definitely needed saving. No sooner had Saint George and the princess had this conversation than they were interrupted by a terrifying roar as the dragon burst forth from the water, heading straight towards the girl. Being the nimble little thing she was, the princess dodged the sharp claws.  As she was zigzagging away from danger, George stopped to make the sign of the cross and charged the gigantic lizard, thrusting Ascalon, that was the name of his sword, yep he named it, into the four legged menace and severely wounded the beast. George called to the princess to throw him her girdle, That's a belt type thing, and put it around the dragon's neck. From then on, wherever the young lady walked, the dragon followed like a meek beast.  Back to the city of Silene went George, the princess, and the dragon, where the animal proceeded to terrify the people.
George offered to kill the dragon if they consented to becoming Christian. George is sounding a little bit pushy, I know. But the people readily agreed and 15, 000 men were baptized, including the king. St. George killed the dragon, slicing off its head with his trusty sword, Ascalon, and it was carried out of the city on four ox carts. The king built a church to the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. George on the site where the dragon was slain and a spring flowed from its altar with water that it is said would cure all diseases. 
This is the story of Saint George and the Princess. It is a classic story of good versus evil, and of disease healing miracles that would have spoken to the inhabitants of 17th century Brescia. The scene depicting Saint George and the Princess is painted in stunning artwork by Antonio Cicognata and was mounted on the wall of the Church of San Giorgio.  Giovanni Battista Rogeri gazed up at this painting as family and friends, mainly of his bride Laura Testini, crowded into the church of San Giorgio for his wedding. Giovanni was 22 and his soon to be wife, 21, as they spoke their vows in the new city he called home. He hoped to make his career in this town making instruments for the art loving Brescians, evidence of which could be seen in the wonderful artworks in such places as this small church. Rogeri would live for the next 20 years in the parish of San Giorgio. The very same George astride an impressive white stallion in shining armour, his head surrounded by a golden halo. He is spearing the dragon whilst the princess calmly watches on clad in jewels with long red flowing robes in the latest fashion. In the background is the city of Brescia itself, reminding the viewer to remember that here in their city they too must fight evil and pray for healing from disease ever present in the lives of the 17th century Brescians.
Hello and welcome to the Violin Chronicles, a podcast in which I, Linda Lespets, will attempt to bring to life the story surrounding famous, infamous, or just not very well known, but interesting violin makers of history.  I'm a violin maker and restorer. I graduated from the French Violin Making School some years ago now, and I currently live and work in Sydney with my husband Antoine, who is also a violin maker and graduate of the French school, l'Ecole Nationale de Luthierie in Mircourt. As well as being a luthier, I've always been intrigued with the history of instruments I work with, and in particular, the lives of those who made them. So often when we look back at history, I know that I have a tendency to look at just one aspect, but here my aim is to join up the puzzle pieces and have a look at an altogether fascinating picture. So join me as I wade through tales not only of fame, famine, and war, but also of love. Artistic genius. Revolutionary craftsmanship, determination, cunning and bravery, that all have their part to play in the history of the violin. 
Welcome to this first episode on the life of Giovanni Battista Rogeri. After having spent the last few episodes looking at the life of the Ruggeri family, we will now dive into the life of that guy who almost has the same name, but whose work and contribution to violin making, you will see, is very different. And we will also look at just why, for so many years, his work has been attributed erroneously to another Brescian maker.
The year was 1642, and over the Atlantic, New York was called New Amsterdam. The Dutch and the English were having scuffles over who got what. Was it New England? New Netherlands? In England, things were definitely heating up, and in 1642, a civil war was in the process of breaking out. On one side there were the parliamentarians, including Oliver Cromwell, and on the other side were the Royalists, who were the supporters of King Charles I. This war would rage on for the next 20 years, and not that anyone in England at this time really cared, but the same year that this war broke out, a baby called Giovanni Battista Rogeri was born in Bologna, perhaps, and for the next 20 years he grew up in this city ruled by the Popes of Italy. He too would witness firsthand wars that swept through his hometown. He would avoid dying of the dreaded plague, sidestep any suspicion by the Catholic church in this enthusiastic time of counter reformation by being decidedly non Protestant. And from an early age, he would have been bathed in the works of the Renaissance and now entering churches being constructed in the Baroque style.
Bologna was a city flourishing in the arts, music and culture, with one of the oldest universities in the country.  But for the young Giovanni Battista Rogeri, to learn the trade of lutai, or violin maker, the place he needed to be was, in fact, 155. 9 km northwest of where he was right now. And if he took the A1, well, today it's called the A1, and it's an ancient Roman road so I'm assuming it's the same one, he could walk it in a few days. Destination Cremona, and more precisely, the workshop of Niccolo Amati. An instrument maker of such renown, it is said that his grandfather, Andrea Amati, made some of the first violins and had royal orders from the French king himself.  To be the apprentice of such a man was a grand thing indeed.
So we are in the mid 1600s  and people are embracing the Baroque aesthetic along with supercharged architecture and paintings full of movement, colour and expression. There is fashion, and how the wealthy clients who would buy instruments in Cremona dressed was also influenced by this movement.
Emily Brayshaw.
You've got these ideas of exaggeration of forms and you can exaggerate the human body with, you know, things like high heels and wigs and ribbons and laces. And you've got a little bit of gender bending happening, men wearing makeup and styles in the courts. You know, you've got dress and accessories challenging the concept of what's natural, how art can compete with that and even triumph over the natural perhaps. You've got gloves trimmed with lace as well. Again, we've got a lot of lace coming through so cravats beauty spot as well coming through. You've got the powder face, the, the wig. Yeah. The makeup, the high heels. Okay. That's now. I actually found a lovely source, an Italian tailor from Bergamo during the Baroque era. The Italians like really had incredibly little tailors and tailoring techniques. And during this sort of Baroque era. He grumbles that since the French came to Italy not to cut but to ruin cloth in order to make fashionable clothes, it's neither possible to do our work well nor are our good rules respected anymore. We have completely lost the right to practice our craft. Nowadays though who disgracefully ruin our art and practice it worse than us are considered the most valuable and fashionable tailors. 
So we've got like this real sort of shift. You know, from Italian tailoring to sort of French and English tailoring as well.
And they're not happy about it.
No, they are not happy about it. And this idea that I was talking about before, we've got a lovely quote from an Italian fashion commentator sort of around the mid 17th century. His name's Lam Pugnani, and he mentions the two main fashions. meaning French and Spanish, the two powers that were ruling the Italian peninsula and gradually building their global colonial empires. And he says, “the two main fashions that we have just recorded when we mentioned Spanish and French fashion, enable me to notice strangeness, if not a madness residing in Italian brains, that without any reason to fall in love so greatly Or better, naturalize themselves with one of these two nations and forget that they are Italian. I often hear of ladies who come from France, where the beauty spot is in use not only for women, but also for men, especially young ones, so much so that their faces often appear with a strange fiction darkened and disturbed, not by beauty spots, but rather by big and ridiculous ones, or so it seems somebody who is not used to watching similar mode art”.
So, you know, we've got people commentating and grumbling about these influences of Spain and France on Italian fashion and what it means to be Italian. When we sort of think about working people, like there's this trope in movie costuming of like peasant brown,  you know, and sort of ordinary, you know, people, perhaps ordinary workers, you know, they weren't necessarily dressed.  In brown, there are so many different shades of blue. You know, you get these really lovely palettes of like blues, and shades of blue, and yellows, and burgundies, and reds, as well as of course browns, and creams, and these sorts of palettes. So yeah, they're quite lovely.
And I'm imagining even if you didn't have a lot of money, there's, I know there's a lot of flowers and roots and barks that you can, you can dye yourself. Yeah, definitely. And people did, people did. I can imagine if I was living back there and we, you know, we're like, Oh, I just, I want this blue skirt. And you'd go out and you'd get the blue skirt. The flowers you needed and yeah, definitely. And people would, or, you know, you can sort of, you know, like beetroot dyes and things like that. I mean, and it would fade, but then you can just like, you know, quickly dye it again. Yeah, or you do all sorts of things, you know, and really sort of inject colour and, people were also, you know, people were clean. To, you know, people did the best they could  keep themselves clean, keep their homes clean. You know, we were talking about boiling linens to keep things fresh and get rid of things like fleas and lice. And people also used fur a lot in fashion. And you'd often like, you know, of course you'd get the wealthy people using the high end furs, but sometimes people would, you know, use cat fur in Holland, for example, people would trim their fur. Their garments and lined their garments with cat fur.  Why not? Because, you know, that's sort of what they could afford.  It was there. Yeah, people also would wear numerous layers of clothing as well because the heating wasn't always so great. Yeah. You know, at certain times of the year as well. So the more layers you had, the better. The more, the more warm and snug you could be. As do we in Sydney. Indeed.  Indeed.  Canadians complain of the biting cold here. I know. And it's like, dude, you've got to lay about us. It's a humid cold. It's awful. It's horrible. It just goes through everything. Anyway. It's awful. Yeah.
So at the age of 19, Giovanni Battista Rogeri finds himself living in the lively and somewhat crowded household of Niccolo Amati. The master is in his early 60s and Giovanni Battista Rogeri also finds himself in the workshop alongside Niccolo Amati's son Girolamo II Amati, who is about 13 or 14 at this time.  Cremona is a busy place, a city bursting with artisans and merchants.
The Amati Workshop is definitely the place to be to learn the craft, but it soon becomes clear as Giovanni Battista Rogeri looks around himself in the streets that, thanks to Nicolo Amati, Cremona does indeed have many violin makers, and although he has had a good few years in the Amati Workshop, Learning and taking the young Girolamo II Amati the second under his wing more and more as his father is occupied with other matters. He feels that his best chances of making a go of it would be better if he moved on and left Cremona and her violin makers. There was Girolamo II Amati who would take over his father's business. There were the Guarneri's around the corner. There was that very ambitious Antonio Stradivari who was definitely going to make a name for himself. And then there were the Rugeri family, Francesco Rugeri and Vincenzo Rugeri whose name was so familiar to his, people were often asking if they were related.  No, it was time to move on, and he knew the place he was headed.
Emily Brayshaw. 
So, you've also got, like, a lot of artisans moving to Brescia as well, following the Venetian ban on foreign Fustian sold in the territory. So Fustian is, like, a blend of various things. Stiff cotton that's used in padding. So if you sort of think of, for example someone like Henry VIII, right? I can't guarantee that his shoulder pads back in the Renaissance were from Venetian Fustian, but they are sort of topped up and lined with this really stiff Fustian to give like these really big sort of, Broad shoulders. That's how stiff this is. So, Venice is banning foreign fustians, which means that Cremona can't be sold in these retail outlets.
So, Ah, so, and was that sort of That's fabric, but did that mirror the economy that Brescia was doing better than Cremona at this point? Do you, do you think? Because of that?
Well, people go where the work is. Yeah. Cause it's interesting because you've got Francesco Ruggeri, this family that lives in Cremona. Yeah. And then you have about 12 to 20 years later, you have another maker, Giovanni Battista Rogeri.  Yeah. He is apprenticed to Niccolo Amati. So he learns in Cremona. And then he's in this city full of violin makers, maybe, and there's this economic downturn, and so it was probably a very wise decision. He's like, look, I'm going to Brescia, and he goes to Brescia. He would have definitely been part of this movement of skilled workers and artisans to Brescia at that time, sort of what happening as well. So, you know, there's all sorts of heavy tolls on movements of goods and things like that. And essentially it collapses. And they were, and they were heavily taxed as well. Yeah, definitely. Definitely.
It was the fabulous city of Brescia. He had heard stories of the city's wealth, art, music and culture, famous for its musicians and instrument makers. But the plague of 1630 had wiped out almost all the Luthiers and if ever there was a good time and place to set up his workshop, it was then and there. So bidding farewell to the young Girolamo Amati, the older Nicolò  Amati and his household, where he had been living for the past few years. The young artisan set out to make a mark in Brescia, a city waiting for a new maker, and this time with the Cremonese touch.
Almost halfway between the old cathedral and the castle of Brescia, you will find the small yet lovely Romanesque church of San Giorgio. Amidst paintings and frescoes of Christ, the Virgin and the Saints, there stands a solemn yet nervous young couple, both in their early twenties. Beneath the domed ceiling of the church, the seven angels of the Apocalypse gaze down upon them, a constant reminder that life is fragile, and that plague, famine and war are ever present reminders of their mortality. But today is a happy one. The young Giovanni Battista Rogeri is marrying Laura Testini.  And so it was that Giovanni Battista Rogeri moved to Brescia into the artisanal district and finds himself with a young wife, Laura Testini. She is the daughter of a successful leather worker and the couple most probably lived with Laura's family. Her father owned a house with eight rooms and two workshops. This would have been the perfect setup for the young Giovanni to start his own workshop and get down to business making instruments for the people of Brescia. He could show off his skills acquired in Cremona, and that is just what he did. Since the death of Maggini, there had not been any major instrument making workshops in Brescia.
Florian Leonhard 
Here I talk to Florian Leonhard about Giovanni Battista Rogeri's move to Brescia and his style that would soon be influenced by not only his Cremonese training, but the Brescian makers such as Giovanni Paolo Maggini
I mean, I would say in 1732. The Brescian violin making or violin making was dead for a bit,  so until the arrival of Giovanni Battista Rogeri, who came with a completely harmonised idea,  into town and then adopted  features of  Giovanni Paolo Maggini and Gasparo da Salo. I cannot say who, probably some Giovanni Paolo Maggini violins that would have been more in numbers available to him, have influenced his design of creating an arching. It's interesting that he instantly picked up on that arching  because Giovanni Battista Rogeri always much fuller arched. The arching rises much earlier from the purfling up. Right. So he came from the Cremonese tradition, but he adopted the, like, the Brescian arching idea. He, he came from Niccolo Amati and has learned all the finesse of construction, fine making, discipline, and also series production. He had an inside mould, and he had the linings, and he had the, all the blocks, including top and bottom block.  And he nailed in the neck, so he did a complete package of Cremonese violin making and brought that into Brescia, but blended it in certain stylistics and sometimes even in copies with the Brescian style.
For a long time, we have had Before dendrochronology was established, the Giovanni Paolo Magginis were going around and they were actually Giovanni Battista Rogeris.
Brescia at this time was still a centre flourishing in the arts and despite the devastation of the plague almost 30 years ago, it was an important city in Lombardy and was in the process of undergoing much urban development and expansion.  When Giovanni Rogeri arrived in the city, There were efforts to improve infrastructure, including the construction of public buildings, fortifications and roads. The rich religious life of the city was evident, and continued to be a centre of religious devotion at this time, with the construction and renovation of churches in the new Baroque style.  The elaborate and ornate designs were not only reserved for churches, but any new important building projects underway in the city at this time. If you had yourself the palace in the Mula, you were definitely renovating in the Baroque style. And part of this style would also be to have a collection of lovely instruments to lend to musicians who would come and play in your fancy new pad. Strolling down the colourful streets lined with buildings covered in painted motifs, people were also making a statement in their choice of clothing.
Another thing that the very wealthy women were wearing are these shoes called Chopines, which are like two foot tall. And so you've got like this really exaggerated proportions as well. Very tall. I mean. Very tall, very wide. So taking up a lot of space.
I'm trying to think of the door, the doorways that would have to accommodate you.
Yes.
How do you fit through the door?
So a lot of the time women would have to stoop. You would need to be escorted by either servants.  And then you'd just stand around. I did find some discussions of fashion in the time as well.  Commentators saying, well, you know, what do we do in northern France? We either, in northern Italy, sorry, we either dress like the French, we dress like the Spanish, why aren't we dressing like Italians? And kind of these ideas of linking national identity through the expression of dress in fashion. So, we're having this
But did you want to, was it fashionable to be to look like the French court or the, to look like the Spanish court.
Well, yeah, it was, it was fashionable. And this is part of what people are commenting about as well. It's like, why are we bowing to France? Why are we bowing to Italy? Sorry. Why are we bowing to Spain? Why don't we have our own national Italian identity? And we do see like little variations in dress regionally as well. You know, people don't always. Dress exactly how the aristocracy are dressing. You'll have your own little twists, you'll have your own little trimmings, you'll have your own little ways and styles. And there are theories in dress about trickle down, you know, like people are trying to emulate the aristocracy, but they're not always. Trying to do that. Well, yeah, it's not practical if you're living, you know, if you're and you financially you can't either like some of these Outfits that we're talking about, you know with one of these hugh like the Garde in Fanta worn by Marie Theresa that outfit alone would have cost in today's money like more than a million dollars  You can't copy these styles of dress, right? So what you've got to do is, you know, make adjustments. And also like a lot of women, like you, these huge fashion spectacles worn at court. They're not practical for working women either. So we see adaptations of them. So women might have a pared down silhouette and wear like a bum roll underneath their skirts and petticoats and over the top of the stays.
And that sort of gives you a little nod to these wider silhouettes, but you can still move, you can still get your work done, you can still, you know, do things like that. So that's sort of what's happening there.
Okay, so now we find a young Giovanni Battista Rogeri. He has married a local girl and set up his workshop. Business will be good for this maker, and no doubt thanks to the latest musical craze to sweep the country. I'm talking about opera.  In the last episodes on Francesco Ruggeri, I spoke to Stephen Mould, the composer. at the Sydney Conservatorium about the beginnings of opera and the furore in which it swept across Europe. And if you will remember back to the episodes on Gasparo Da Salo at the beginning of the Violin Chronicles, we spoke about how Brescia was part of the Venetian state.  This is still the case now with Giovanni Battista Rogeri and this means that the close relationship with Venice is a good thing for his business.  Venice equals opera and opera means orchestras and where orchestras are you have musicians and musicians have to have an instrument really, don't they?
Here is Stephen Mould explaining the thing that is opera and why it was so important to the music industry at the time and instrument makers such as our very own Giovanni Battista Rogeri.
Venice as a place was a kind of Gesamtkunstwerk.  Everything was there, and it was a very, it was a very modern type of city, a trading city, and it had a huge emerging, or more than emerging, middle class. People from the middle class like entertainment of all sorts, and in Venice they were particularly interested in rather salacious entertainments, which opera absolutely became. So the great thing of this period was the rise of the castrato.  Which they, which, I mean, it was, the idea of it is perverse and it was, and they loved it. And it was to see this, this person that was neither man nor, you know, was in a way sexless on the stage singing  and, and often singing far more far more virtuosically than a lot of women, that there was this, there was this strange figure. And that was endlessly fascinating. They were the pop stars of their time. And so people would go to the opera just to hear Farinelli or whoever it was to sing really the way. So this is the rise of public opera.
As opposed to the other version.
Well, Orfeo, for example, took place in the court at Mantua, probably in the, in the room of a, of a palace or a castle, which wouldn't have been that big, but would have been sort of specially set up for those performances. If I can give you an idea of how. Opera might have risen as it were, or been birthed in Venice.
Let's say you've got a feast day, you know, a celebratory weekend or few days. You're in the piazza outside San Marco. It's full of people and they're buying things, they're selling things, they're drinking, they're eating, they're having a good time. And all of a sudden this troupe of strolling players comes into the piazza and they start to put on a show, which is probably a kind of comedia dell'arte spoken drama. But the thing is that often those types of traveling players can also sing a bit and somebody can usually play a lute or some instrument. So they start improvising. Probably folk songs. Yeah. And including that you, so you've kind of already there got a little play happening outside with music. It's sort of like a group of buskers in Martin place. It could be very hot. I mean, I've got a picture somewhere of this. They put a kind of canvas awning with four people at either corner, holding up the canvas awning so that there was some sort of shade for the players. Yeah. That's not what you get in a kid's playground these days. You've almost got the sense. Of the space of a stage, if you then knock on the door of one of the palazzi in, in Venice and say to, to the, the local brew of the, of the aristocracy, look, I don't suppose we could borrow one of your rooms, you know, in your, in your lovely palazzo to, to put on a, a, a show.  Yeah, sure. And maybe charged, maybe didn't, you know, and, and so they, the, the very first, it was the San Cassiano, I think it was the theatre, the theatre, this, this room in a, in a palace became a theatre. People went in an impresario would often commission somebody to write the libretto, might write it himself. Commissioner, composer, and they put up some kind of a stage, public came in paid, so it's paying to come and see opera.  Look, it's, it's not so different to what had been going on in England in the Globe Theatre. And also the, the similar thing to Shakespeare's time, it was this sort of mixing up of the classes, so everything was kind of mixed together.  And that's, that's why you get different musical genres mixed together. For example, an early something like Papaya by Monteverdi, we've just done it, and from what, from what I can gather from the vocal lines, some of the comic roles were probably these street players,  who just had a limited vocal range, but  could do character roles very well, play old women, play old men, play whatever, you know, caricature type roles. Other people were Probably trained singers. Some of them were probably out of Monteverdi's chorus in San Marco, and on the, on when they weren't singing in church, they were over playing in the opera, living this kind of double life.  And That’s how  opera  started to take off. Yeah, so like you were saying, there are different levels.
So you had these classical Greek themes, which would be more like, you're an educated person going, yes, yes, I'm seeing this classical Greek play, but then you're someone who'd never heard of Greek music. The classics. They were there for the, you know, the lively entertainment and the sweet performers.
Yes. So the, the, the Commedia dell'arte had, had all these traditional folk tales. Then you've got all of the, all of the ancient myths and, and, and so forth.  Papaya was particularly notable because it was the first opera that was a historical opera. So it wasn't based on any ancient myths or anything.
It was based on the life of Nero and Papaya. And so they were real life a few hundred years before, but they were real. It was a real historical situation that was being enacted on the stage.  And it was a craze. That's the thing to remember is. You know, these days people have to get dressed up and they have to figure out how they get inside the opera house and they're not sure whether to clap or not and all of this sort of stuff and there's all these conventions surrounding it. That wasn't what it was about. It was the fact that the public were absolutely thirsty for this kind of entertainment.  Yeah. And I was seeing the first, so the first opera house was made in in about 1637, I think it was. And then by the end of Monteverdi's lifetime, they said there were 19 opera houses in Venice. It was, like you were saying, a craze that just really took off. They had a few extra ones because they kept burning down. That's why one of them, the one that, that is, still exists today is called La Fenice. It keeps burning down as well, but rising from the ashes. Oh, wow. Like the, yeah, with the lighting and stuff, I imagine it's So, yeah, because they had candles and they had, you know, Yeah, it must have been a huge fire hazard. Huge fire hazard, and all the set pieces were made out of wood or fabric and all of that. Opera houses burning down is another big theme.  Oh yeah, it's a whole thing in itself, yeah. So then you've got These opera troupes, which are maybe a little, something a little bit above these commedia dell'arte strolling players.
So, you've got Italy at that time. Venice was something else. Venice wasn't really like the rest of Italy. You've got this country which is largely agrarian, and you've got this country where people are wanting to travel in order to have experiences or to trade to, to make money and so forth. And so, first of all if an opera was successful, it might be taken down to Rome or to Naples for people to hear it. You would get these operas happening, happening in different versions. And then of course, there was this idea that you could travel further through Europe. And I, I think I have on occasion, laughingly. a couple of years ago said that it was like the, the latest pandemic, you know, it was, but it was this craze that caught on and everybody wanted to experience.
Yeah. So you didn't, you didn't have to live in Venice to see the opera. They, they moved around. It was, it was touring. Probably more than we think. That, that, that whole period, like a lot of these operas were basically unknown for about 400 years. It's only, the last century or so that people have been gradually trying to unearth under which circumstances the pieces were performed.  And we're still learning a lot, but the sense is that there was this sort of network of performers and performance that occurred. 
And one of the things that Monteverdi did, which was, which was different as well, is that before you would have maybe one or two musicians accompanying, and he came and he went, I'm taking them all.
And he created sort of, sort of the first kind of orchestras, like  lots of different instruments. They were the prototypes of, of orchestras. And Look, the bad news for your, the violin side of your project, there was certainly violins in it. It was basically a string contingent. That was the main part of the orchestra. There may have been a couple of trumpets, may have been a couple of oboe like instruments. I would have thought that for Venice, they would have had much more exotic instruments.  But the, the, the fact is at this time with the public opera, what became very popular were all of the stage elements. And so you have operas that have got storms or floods or fires. They simulated fires. A huge amount of effort went into painting these very elaborate sets and using, I mean, earlier Leonardo da Vinci had been experimenting with a lot of how you create the effect of a storm or an earthquake or a fire or a flood. There was a whole group of experts who did this kind of stuff.
For the people at the time, it probably looked like, you know, going to the, the, the first big movie, you know, when movies first came out in the 20s, when the talkies came out and seeing all of these effects and creating the effects. When we look at those films today, we often think, well, that's been updated, you know, it's out of date, but they found them very, very, very compelling.
What I'm saying is the money tended to go on the look of the thing on the stage and the orchestra, the sound of the orchestras from what we can gather was a little more monochrome. Of course, the other element of the orchestra is the continuo section. So you've got the so called orchestra, which plays during the aria like parts of the opera, the set musical numbers. And you've got the continuo, which is largely for the rest of the team. And you would have had a theorbo, you would have had maybe a cello, a couple of keyboard instruments, lute. It basically, it was a very flexible, what’s available kind of.
Yeah, so there was they would use violines, which was the ancestor of the double bass. So a three stringed  one and violins as well. And that, and what else I find interesting is with the music, they would just, they would give them for these bass instruments, just the chords and they would improvise sort of on those. Chords. So every time it was a little bit different, they were following a Yes. Improvisation. Yeah. So it was kind of original. You could go back again and again.
It wasn't exactly the same. And look, that is the problem with historical recreation. And that is that if you go on IMSLP, you can actually download the earliest manuscript that we have of Papaya.  And what you've got is less than chords, you've got a baseline. Just a simple bass line,  a little bit of figuration to indicate some of the chords, and you've got a vocal line. That's all we have. We don't actually know, we can surmise a whole lot of things, but we don't actually know anything else about how it was performed.
I imagine all the bass instruments were given that bass line, and like, Do what you want with that.
So yeah, it would, and it would have really varied depending on musicians. Probably different players every night, depending on, you know,  look, if you go into 19th century orchestras, highly unreliable, huge incidents of drunkenness and, you know, different people coming and going because they had other gigs to do. Like this is 19th century Italian theatres at a point where, you know, It should have been, in any other country, it would have, Germany had much better organized you know, orchestral resources and the whole thing. So it had that kind of Italian spontaneity and improvised, the whole idea of opera was this thing that came out of improvisation. Singers also, especially the ones that did comic roles, would probably improvise texts, make them a bit saucier than the original if they wanted for a particular performance. All these things were, were open.
 And this brings us to an end of this first episode on Giovanni Battista Rogeri.  We have seen the young life of this maker setting out to make his fortune in a neighbouring city, alive with culture and its close connections to Venice and the world of opera.
I would like to thank my lovely guests Emily Brayshaw, Stephen Mould and Florian Leonhardt for joining me today.
 
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Ep 23. The 4 sons of Francesco Rugeri Part 5

Francesco Rugeri had 4 sons, lets take a look at who they were and their contribution to Cremona in its golden period.
In this episode we concludes the story of Francesco Ruggeri, a lesser-known but fascinating violin maker from Cremona, Italy. Discover his life, his move to different parishes, and the roles his children played in carrying on his legacy.
This episode looks at the history of Cremona as a bustling city for artisans, the family dynamics and movements of the Ruggeri family, and their contributions to violin making, especially in producing smaller cellos. Discover Vincenzo Ruggeri, Francesco's well-known son, his marriage, and his life in Cremona. Then again there is the mysterious death of Francesco's youngest son, Carlo....
Join me as I talk to guests Duane Rosengard, Jason Price, and Emily Brayshaw on topics like the influence of military fashion on civilian dress, the characteristics of Ruggeri instruments, and the historical contexts of the Ruggeri family's work. 
 

Ep 22. Francesco Rugeri Part 4 with Duane Rosengard

In this episode we will be looking at Francesco’s most productive period of making instruments with a busy workshop and 4 sons helping him out. Jason Price from Tarisio fine violins and bows talks to us about Rugeris distinctive making style and his prolific production at this time in his life but things do not run as smoothly as Rugeri would like as he finds himself in hot water with court cases and grumpy children.
Thankyou to the Australian Chamber Orchestra for permission to play their music.
  Hello and welcome to the Violin Chronicles, a podcast in which I, Linda Lespets, will attempt to bring to life the story surrounding famous, infamous, or just not very well known, but interesting violin makers of history.  I'm a violin maker and restorer. I graduated from the French Violin Making School some years ago now, and I currently live and work in Sydney with my husband Antoine, who is also a violin maker and graduate of the French school, l'Ecole Nationale de Luthierie in Mircourt.
As well as being a luthier, I've always been intrigued with the history of instruments I work with, and in particular, the lives of those who made them.  So often when we look back at history, I know that I have a tendency to look at just one aspect, but here my aim is to join up the puzzle pieces and have a look at an altogether fascinating picture.
So join me as I wade through tales not only of fame, famine and war, but also of love, artistic genius, revolutionary craftsmanship, determination, cunning and bravery that all have their part to play in the history of the violin.  This show is sponsored by Tarisio Fine Instruments and Bows. And right now, I would like to talk about a formidable database you can access today, if you wish, called the COSIO Archive.
For people who listen to this podcast, something that you might be thinking when you're listening to me telling the stories of violin makers is you would really love to see pictures of the instruments that they make. And for that, you have the perfect resource. Here is Jason Price, Director of Tarisio, to tell you about it.
Jason Price
Yes, the Cosio Archive. We now own it, maintain it, and are continually adding to it. Over a hundred thousand instruments in the database, over four thousand makers, which we are following and tracking, two hundred thousand auction prices. It's really quite cool. If I pull up the stats for, you know, a maker like Ruggeri, I get 336 instruments by Francesco Ruggieri.
It's a unique resource and we hope it's really useful.
Linda Lespets
 And so what I love is that often in some databases, you just get one, photo per maker, but in the Cosio archive, for example, for Ruggeri, you're able to look at the maker's whole career in photos and you see influences from other makers. You can see the dates where his sons are working for him and you can see examples of that work and the style.
They're similar. For example, you can look up Vincenzo Ruggeri and see how his style is similar to his father. Yeah. Yeah. There's a violin in your archive, uh, 1680  called the Milanolo, which is really beautiful. Yeah. Which is a small violin. So that would be an example of his work when he's working with his sons in when the workshop was very successful.
And then there's a violin from 1650, which was his earlier work.  I think maybe my favorite name for an instrument is the Admiral Buckle.  Admiral Buckle. That's wonderful. His life and his, it kind of reads like something out of a Jane Austen, book.  Wonderful. And then, uh, there's a 1673 cello, which is really beautiful, and the, the quality of the photo is amazing.
You can zoom right in and see the texture of the varnish. You can see the purfling. You can tell that the purfling's been tinted. Yep. There are examples of from 1692, so his later work, and 1695, right to the, the end of his making career, which is extraordinary.
Jason Price
Yeah, good. I'm really, really happy that you find it useful.
Linda Lespets
To have access to all these photos, what's the process to subscribe?
Jason Price
The annual subscription is $100  And allows you unlimited access to as many makers and as many instruments as you want to look at.
Linda Lespets
 Yeah. And I find the auction results quite helpful as well as a violin maker, because we're often having to research different prices and you have to look at a lot of different resources to get an idea of a market value of an instrument. And so that's just one of our, Tools that we use in that process. Yes. And so you have your auctions, the photos, the auction results, and there's also the Cartegio. We get the emails every, every week.
Jason Price
Good. The Cartegio, I love the Cartegio project. It's, it's something I really, I really enjoy. We try to make it long form discussions on things that are interesting, interesting corners of our world.
And we invite some of the, uh, some really distinguished people who write for it and have frankly, very, uh, I think, inspiring and fascinating things to say. You don't have to be a subscriber to the archive to have access to the Cartegio articles. You can sign up for them and that is absolutely free. So there you have it.
Linda Lespets
If you would like to subscribe to the Cosio archive, read a Cartegio article, or browse the auction catalog, go to tarisio.com.  Now back to the show. 
Welcome back to the Life and Times of Francesco Ruggeri. As we have seen in the last episodes, Ruggeri is living in an exciting time for musicians. There are advances in string technology, and Francesco's smaller model of cellos are selling like hotcakes.
Over in Venice, opera is taking off and it's just the best thing ever to go and see the latest arias.  Ruggeri's boys are growing up now and can start helping out with all the orders. Or are they sick of hanging around outside the walls of Cremona, where more interesting things are happening in town?
Starting from the late 1660s, the Ruggeri family is referenced in church and civil records with the nickname of Il Père or Detto Il Père.  He also puts it on his labels. No one really knows how he got this nickname or what it means. Perhaps it was to distinguish him from other Ruggeris in the area.  In their parish of San Bernardo alone, there were five other Ruggeri families and two of them were Francesco's brothers.
Duane Rosengard
My name is Duane Rosengard. And I'm a double bass player in the Philadelphia Orchestra.  One interesting document, I think we found, actually, I think it's actually in that parish church of San Bernardo, is A document of 1669  that pertains to a brother and nephew of Francesco Ruggeri. So it may or may not have anything to do with violins, but this document calls Francesco's brother Ruggeri detto il per, which means called the pair,  P E R, right?
And that document is from August of 1669 and that, up till now is the earliest written record of this, call it a nickname, call it a suffix, whatever you prefer. But that suffix or moniker or nickname was used to identify Francesco Ruggeri and his siblings. and their descendants. Why is that important?
Nobody, even if they spent a lifetime, could count how many Ruggieri families lived in and around Cremona. I wouldn't say it's as common as, not nearly as common as Smith or Jones,  but it maybe is almost as common as a name like Brown or Green. You know what I'm saying? It was, The amount of, um, material, just when I think back to the 1990s, that Carlo Chiesa and I sifted through, both in churches and in the legal records of notaries.
There's many Ruggeri's, and some could read, and some could write, and some were illiterate. And sometimes they spelled it with R. Two Gs, one other times with one G, sometimes with one G and an I before the ERI. And, you know, it could drive you mad. 
Linda Lesepets
At this time, another maker with a very similar name of Rogeri was apprenticed in the Amati workshop for a few years. He was in his late teens, but soon over the next five years, he would move to Brescia. Get married and start a workshop in that city of his own.  In the 1680s, Francesco's eldest son, Giovanni Battista, was a witness at a wedding, and the priest writes his name as G. B. Per, with Per replacing his last name, Ruggeri, so that was the nickname that they put on the labels, remember?
So we can see that the family was well known by this name. It could also have been, to stop confusion, with Rogeri over in Brescia, but we will probably never know. The fact is that this name, Il Per, is on his labels and records from now on.  Before the Great Plague 30 years ago, Cremona was a city of about 30 to 40, 000 people.
Now, in the 1660s, its population is just 10, 000, and yet the violin makers, or lutei,  were doing well. The reputation of a Cremona violin meant that four industrious workshops were trading in town.  And as the years passed, Francesco's children grew up and the boys started helping their father in the workshop, making it a hive of activity. And the Ruggieri workshop, under the guidance of Francesco Rugeri, was distinguishable with its own style and way of making instruments.
Jason Price.
I was just going to say stylistically, that there really are some, uh, you know, you look at them from 10 feet away and there's some obvious similarities.
They're both an Amati model but when you start looking up close, you see some things that are different. The head of a Ruggieri is really distinctive, a tiny eye,  very, very small chamfer, the body of a Ruggieri. Um, tends to be a little bit more pinched in arching. The sound holes tend to be a little bit more sinewy and wiry.
Um, they don't, they don't tend to have the classical poise that an Amati does. And then they're missing some things like obviously the central pin, which is all the Amati makers, uh, and disciples had. Ruggeri, Ruggeri's do not have those. So they are, they're similar from 10 feet away, but quite distinct once you get up close.
Linda Lespets
When you say, they made a lot of instruments, is that, violins, cellos? What, are there a lot of? It's certainly not violas. That's for sure. And that's a, that's a separate topic all on its own, but. You know, why weren't people making real Unfortunately for you.
In 1677, Giovanni Battista Ruggeri, the eldest of the Ruggeri boys, married and moved out of home into another parish of Cremona with his wife briefly, but soon they would move back and continue to work with his father.  Giovanni Battista was good friends with Niccolò Amati's son, Girolamo II, Who was only four years older than him. And when Giovanni and his young wife had a child of their own, they asked him to be godfather. During this time in the 1670s and 80s, the Ruggeri workshop was at its most productive. Francesco had his four sons working with him, making many instruments.  In 1685, a year after Niccolò Amati died, the 56 year old Francesco Ruggeri found himself involved in a court case.
Rugeri was sort of got himself.  He got himself sort of mixed up in a situation, with a fake label in his instrument,
Jason Price. 
That's right. So this was, um, in Modena. So a musician appealed to the Duke of Modena  for relief or for some sort of, uh, you know, injunction against the person who had sold him a violin that was supposed to be an Amati because it had an Amati label, but turns out it had a Ruggeri label underneath that.
Yeah, underneath. It's crazy, huh? It's crazy. I mean, these old tricks, they never, uh, they've been there from the very beginning. Yeah. And the cool thing about this is it happened, like, just a couple years after Niccolò Amati had died that this was, that this came out, I think. I think it was, he died in 84.
And I think it was like in the 80s that that this happened. And, you know, the price difference between an Rugeri is what was at stake. I think that he asked for some sort of, um, either compensation or, or relief or something because, you know, the idea was an Amati is worth five times what a Rugeri is worth.
 I don't remember the actual numbers, but it's some, it's a ratio like that. I think, I think it was, um,  Pistoles, but in different, uh, accounts, they give different currencies. So, but then I, I was looking up to see how much a Pistole was worth and in one account, one Pistole could buy you a cow.
Oh, wow. Right. And an  Amati violin could buy like four cows, which sounds expensive to me.  Which is, that's amazing. It really tells you everything, doesn't it? Yeah.  That one, Amati was commercially that much more valuable and two, there was enough demand for Amati that people were either making counterfeits or selling counterfeits one way or another.
Yeah, and he got in trouble for it and I'm like, it couldn't have been him. He would have like ripped, he would have taken out the label or like not put, even put his label in and like, you wouldn't stick a label on top of your own label. I mean, if you're going to be fraudulent, you do it properly.
Jason Price
 I think that there are some examples in the 20th century where we're happy to put in whatever label you want them to put in there. 
Linda Lespets
So, um,  so you, for example,  you're an expert.  Yes. Absolutely. That's the, yeah. Um, so say, hypothetically speaking, someone comes to you, um, and they give you, they give you a violin.
And I say, look, I bought this. It's a, it’s a Vuillaume. And you can see from across the room that it's not a Vuillaume. What happens today in this setting,  uh, in that situation?
Jason Price
 In that situation, you, um, you make sure they're seated. Uh, so that they're, uh, you know, not wobbly.  Um, and then you, you try to see what they want you to tell them. And if most of the time they're coming to you because they want you to corroborate something they already know. And for me, I think you have to be super direct in these. Matters. You have to tell people what it is, but how you get there certainly requires some finesse that you don't want to, uh, you don't want to offend someone.
You don't want to make them feel like they've  made a bad purchase. You don't want to, you know, make them faint and fall over, but nine times out of 10, when they come to you with something that isn't something, this isn't going to be news that you're giving them. Yeah. You have to be gentle with these things, but super direct and super truthful.
Linda Lespets
There's this example I have of a story that, um, the, the vice chancellor of Sydney uni told me the first time I met him. And so, uh, so the story was that, well, it's a true story. This happened to him the first year he was, uh, the vice chancellor of Sydney uni, uh, an old, an elderly lady died, and she, she  In her will, the university received two paintings and one of them was a Picasso and the other one was a Miro.
So the Picasso, he said, first of all, they, they got someone to look at them and they said, well, yeah, this is a Picasso. These are Picasso. Um, you know, it's this and the university just, they, they couldn't pay the insurance to keep them for even a few months. So they, there were experts from two big auction houses in London. You could imagine who they were and they, they did like a Vuillaume, they, they jumped on the first plane. They came out to Sydney. They looked and it was a, his blue period. It was incredible. They sort of had this big. Kind of battle for who was going to sell it. Um, it was taken back to England. It was, it made the cover of the, of the auction catalogue.
It sold for a record price. It was huge record price. So the university is like fantastic, uh, like universities in Australia, they need sort of a lot of private funding. So heaps of millions, millions of dollars. Uh, the second painting was a Miro.  They're like, cool, we got the, the Picasso, we've got millions, and they said, well, actually, no, the Miro, we have to take that to Paris, because you have to have the right expert to, to be sold, it has to have the right expertise.
So they're like, sure, sure, take it to Paris, but they said, but we have to tell you that if it's a fake, it's going to be destroyed.  And so this is how it happens.
 
Jason Price
This is, I mean, this is absolutely, it's a, um, it's a movement in especially the contemporary art world. The Warhol Commission won't even look at something until you, uh, give them permission to destroy it if it's a counterfeit.
Linda Lespets
So either you get the certificate to say what it is, or you've agreed for its destruction. And they were like, well, if this is, this is okay. It’s, we’ve got the Picasso was real, right? Like the Miro, they send the Miro and  it was a fake.  And so it was destroyed. Uh, but their argument is, well, how, how can we know that someone isn't going to take this painting and sell it, uh, as a fraudulent thing?
And I was just wondering what would, what would the violin world look like today? If that's what  happened.
Jason Price
That's a very good question.  Very good question. What do you think about it? I mean, how would you, how would you see that?
Linda Lespets
I think we don't often say,  well, I don't know if it's some, if it was sold as that and it was very, and I know there has been cases where things have accidentally been sold as something and they haven't seen a little iron mark in it saying it's something else and that's put the violin maker into a lot of trouble. Uh,  but I can, I mean, at the same time I can understand the art. The, laws surrounding it because they're like, this is copyright. This is infringement of copyright. You can't do this to a song. Um, you're selling this as someone else's work. They did that painting. And normally copyright is, I think it's 70 years after the death of the person, but then some people own the copyright.
I mean, like we, nobody owns the copyright to the Strad model.  So, yeah, I don't know, I was just a bit shocked by it. I was like, Oh, we're sort of, sort of in the same world. I find it fascinating and shocking at the same time.
Jason Price
 I think if you applied that to the violin business, there would be some things that would, um, well, it would miss all the subtleties of, you know, Völler copies from the late, uh, 19th century, um,  Vuillaume copies, uh, of a Guarneri that, um, You know, that  had a Guarneri label in it when they left his workshop.
But these are, these are not, they're not forgeries. They're not counterfeits. They're things that are made as, well, they're traded now with full knowledge of what they are. And it sort of would be a sad erasure of history if you had to do that, wouldn't it? Yeah.
Linda Lespets
 And I don't know, and there's always a part of you that might be saying, you know, maybe with the paintings, like maybe it was a real,
Here's what happened. There was a virtuoso court violinist and composer working for the Duke of Modena.  That's about 100 kilometres, or 62 miles, from Cremona.  His name was Tommaso Antonio Vitale, and being a well-known musician and composer, he thought he would buy himself a violin worthy of his station, and that could only mean an Amati would do.
They weren't cheap, but he had important things to play on this instrument, so he managed to find himself one of these famous Amati violins. Presumably he didn't go to the workshop himself, but acquired it in some other fashion. A travelling salesman or another violinist dealer, perhaps?  So anyway, he gets his violin and pays nine pistoli for it.
Now in one source I found you could buy a cow for one pistoli, which gives you an idea of the value of an Amati at the time. So whether it was nine cows or a herd of goats, we don't quite know. It was expensive in any case, and everything was going just fine until he saw the label inside his instrument peeling at the corner, and as the Niccolo Amati label was slowly peeled away, it exposed a Francesco Ruggeri Detto Il Per label. Shock horror! He had been scammed. This was bad news for Tommaso, who had just forked over a considerable amount of money for this instrument to find out that it was Okay, a violin from Cremona but a Ruggeri instrument. A Ruggeri instrument was only worth a third of that of an Amati.  Vitali, finding himself in a pickle, petitioned the Duke, his employer, to see if he could help get his money back, in this case a fraud. This story tells us a few things.  1. Niccolo Amati's violins were considered the cream of the crop, even during his lifetime, or in this case, shortly after.  Rugeri's instruments were considerably less expensive, but also well made enough to be passed off as an Amati to the unsuspecting. 3. You can't always trust what is on the label. And 4. That unscrupulous people wanting to make a quick buck have been around since the dawn of time.
 Jason Price. 
Have you heard of an author called Malcolm Gladwell? Yes, absolutely. And he wrote a really, uh, a book I love is called Blink. I don't know if you've read that. And he talks about, um, Blink, yep.
Linda Lespets
Yeah, I feel like he talks about a thing called the adaptive unconscious. Which is, it's everything that happens in a few seconds when you first see something that you can't explain. He often talks about people, uh, he takes an example of art experts having, they can't explain it. It's a feeling that they have when they see an instrument, uh, not an instrument, when they see a painting. And do you,  do you have the feeling when you see an instrument?
Jason Price
I think that sort of uncategorizable, um, experience of seeing something is, uh, is incredibly important. The instinct you have when you see something is incredibly important, but it's also equally important to corroborate that and to challenge that. That when you see something, when someone flashes a violin in front of you and you just, you know, Say, oh yeah, it's a Vuillaume. That's great. It's great that you have that instinct. It's great that you've seen, you know, 700 Vuillaume that you can recognize the 701st.  But the better expert is the The one that then unpacks that and says, hang on a second, let me just sit with this a little bit and make sure that all the parts check out and that it corroborates that, that I'm not, I'm not doing it out of posturing. I'm doing it out of actual, um, intellectual rigor of looking at the instrument, not just my instinct. And then it's also important to challenge that, to say, you know what, hang on a second. I saw the, um, Six months ago that didn't have this thing here. And why does this have that? Those two things are super important. You have to have the instinct, but you also have to challenge it. 
Linda Lespets
Yeah. And that, that adaptive unconscious, it's kind of like, it's, it's a lifetime experience. Cause he'll talk about people, uh, reading, reading people as well. And it's because you've spent your life. doing it. It's not, it just doesn't, you're not sort of born with it, or I mean, maybe someone is, but normally it's, it's thousands of connections being made from, from seeing thousands of instruments and which  I think AI could never really, AI can maybe categorize things and help with elimination, but they could never synthesize completely the, the entirety of The object, because for, he gives this example, um, in the, I think it's the Getty museum.
They were, they wanted to buy a statue and it was 10 million. And they did, I'm not sure if it was Getty, it was a big museum in America. Um, and they, they did all this scientific testing on it for the materials, where it came from, the, they did every scientific test you could do, but then when they put it in front of an art expert. They, they just said, I hope you haven't bought this. I have a really bad feeling. And they couldn't, they couldn't say why. And they, they couldn't go back to the museum and say, well, this guy felt a feeling. In the end, it was a fake, but every, it was so well done, uh, that it, it ticked all the scientific boxes. And that's,  and that would be your, your human,  Using their sort of little supercomputer, um,  synthesizing it all together.
Jason Price
No, you're absolutely right. It's that human judgment is irreplaceable and you certainly don't replace that with scientific evaluation for sure. Yeah, yeah. And it's, and it's something that's hard to quantify or explain because people say to you, how do you know? Like, how can you tell it's this? Uh, I, I, for me, I think it actually is almost more athletic than anything else. I think it's just because you've done the work that you've seen the previous, uh, 400 examples of that maker and you've actually studied them. You've, uh, made binders or you've made folders and you've, uh, compared one to another.
You know, the early period, you know, the late period, you know, the problematic ones. You know, the ones that, um, are accepted by some people, but not by others. That's, that's just doing the work. It's, that's like a, an athletic experience, not like voodoo. Part of our business, not our, not violin business, but in general, but the arts business  that I find a little bit dangerous is the sort of, um, you know, posing as expert. Uh, I am as I am expert because I beat my chest and say that I am. That doesn't work. You know, experts aren't fancy suits. Um, experts are people who can, you know, proclaim something, um, as a work of magic. They're doing it because they've studied it.
Linda Lespets
And it's hard to measure that. Um, depth of knowledge. So the next time you buy yourself a Niccolo Amati, be sure to go to a trusted source, and this is where an expert can help you.  And as in the art world, there are different experts who have expert knowledge on specific makers.  So there you have it. At the end of this episode, we leave Francesco Rugeri in a pickle with his instruments and his workshop is in full swing with his sons, the Ruggeri brothers.
I'm sure they were well known about town, strapping lads that they would have been. And next week we will see the shenanigans the boys get up to and some big moves for the workshop. And that will be the final episode on Ruggeri before we move into the wonderful life and career of Giovanni Battista Rogeri.
Thank you to my fantastic guests, Dr. Emily Brayshaw and Jason Price. And Dwayne Rosengard. And to end, here is some viola music for Jason. Well, viola and cello, actually. This is Liisa Pallandi and Timo- Veikko Valve from the Australian Chamber Orchestra playing the Sonata Representiva. You will hear how the composer is playing with the capabilities of the instruments, imitating bird songs. It's quite lovely. It was composed around 1669. So, so it's around about now in Francesco's life.  To support the podcast, you can leave a rating and review on your listening app, and I hope to catch you next time on the Violin Chronicles.