The Red Violin (1998)

A piece I wrote for Filmosophy:

by Jessie V.

Finding the right violin can be a difficult thing. I imagine it’s a lot like choosing most other instruments for other kinds of musicians, because it serves as the conduit between your innermost self and the world. For this reason, it needs to sound just so. I’ve wondered if there could be an interesting psychological study on what the sound of a professional violinist’s instrument says about their personality.

Generally, the secret to a violin’s sound is a result of the unique combination of its materials, its construction method (including the tools used) and varnish, brought together by the hands of gifted craftsmen. Every violin maker has his or her own special technique, which makes the search for the perfect violin so difficult.

I encountered my dream violin about three years ago in a serendipitous manner. There was an enigmatic bow maker and violin dealer on West 54th Street in NYC, who I’d met through a friend. He would kindly let me play violins from his collection, some of which were quite old and beautiful. If I was having a bad day at my soul-sucking corporate job, which was often, I’d grab my blackberry and head over there to play for a while. A fun thing to do (although sometimes equally discouraging) is to play instruments for free that you could only dream of ever owning. Violin dealers will often let you play their instruments if they trust you. Leaving a violin untouched for too long dampens its sound; playing it loosens its wood, thereby maximizing its sound and making it more appealing to a prospective buyer.

The violin was made by a Dutch maker who I’d never heard of before. It was perfect in every way: sweet and bright sounding with a rich, dark, yet clear, sound on the lower range. The notes melted off of the strings. Apparently, the violin was over 100 years old, and had been found locked in the attic of an old instrument collector, virtually untouched. There were no nicks or scratches, the original varnish maintained; it was the most exquisite thing I’d ever seen or heard. The asking price was $12,000, not a lot for this type of instrument, but not something that I had lying around, either. Later, I learned the violin was bought by another collector, so it’s likely sitting in another closet somewhere, left to be untouched for another 100 years.

The Stradivarius is probably the most famous violin, mainly due to its incredibly bright sound. Dating back to the late 1600’s and early 1700’s, there are thought to be between 500 and 700 Stradivarius violins in the world, many of which maintain stories of theft, destruction and highly unusual disappearances. The instruments sell from hundreds of thousands to millions of dollars, but many are now owned by foundations that loan them to famous violinists.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York has three Stradivarius violins in its permanent collection, dated 1693, 1694, and 1717. Until recently, serious and seriously aspiring violinists could present members of the Museum with a letter detailing why they should be permitted to play one of the Museum’s Strads. If granted the opportunity, one would be invited to play in a secluded room within the Museum, with a fair share of security watching the violinist’s every move. I’m not fully sure why this was discontinued.

For over the last century, violin makers and scientists have attempted to uncover the secrets to the Stradivarius’ distinctive sound. Recent scientists believe they uncovered some of the random chemicals that were used in the Stradivarius’ varnish at the time of their creation, many of which could have been purchased at the equivalent to a local drugstore at the time. Newer technology, however, led to the discovery that the sound may actually be attributed to cold temperatures and a lack of sunlight on the trees in the Alps that were used to make the instruments. During the period in which Strads were made, there was a mini-ice age in Western Europe. The abnormally cold temperatures caused the trees to grow less rapidly, but the wood is also denser, which, it is thought, is primarily responsible for the Strad’s uniquely rich sound. Because of these conditions, it is unlikely that a Stradivarius could ever be fully reproduced, even with the aid of modern technology.

But to boil the Stradivarius’ sound down to topical chemicals or wood density alone is to disregard that violin making is, above all, an art.

The story of The Red Violin (Le violon rouge, 1998) centers around a similar fascination with a perfect violin known for its rich red color and beautiful sound. Directed by François Girard, the movie was inspired by the story of a Stradivarius violin, known as the “Red Mendelssohn” (1721) because of a mysterious red stripe on its top right side, which was auctioned off in 1990 for $1.7 million, purchased for 16-year-old Elizabeth Pitcairn by her grandfather. There is more than a 200-year gap in this Strad’s history in which its ownership is unknown, and it is also not known when or how the instrument obtained its infamous red stripe, which has spurred a lot of creative speculation.

The movie begins in the present at an auction in Montreal, where the Red Violin, made by craftsman Nicolo Bussotti in 1681, is among the valuable instruments up for sale. Samuel L. Jackson plays the role of Charles Morritz, a renowned musical historian and appraiser of rare instruments, who is hired to verify the instrument’s origins, which he does through several scientific tests. Among the potential buyers are individuals with vested interests in obtaining the infamous violin.

Creatively employing a series of flashbacks, the movie traces the history of the Red Violin over the course of nearly 300 years and five countries. The journey begins in Cremona, Italy, where Bussotti (played by Carlo Cecchi) creates the instrument as a gift for his unborn son. While he assembles the instrument, Bussoti’s pregnant wife (played by Irene Garzioli) is told her future by a clairvoyant, a destiny that becomes intertwined with the future of the unfinished Red Violin. Setting a precedent that will become common during the instrument’s future travels, tragedy strikes when Bussotti loses both his wife and his son during childbirth.

The Red Violin takes the viewer on a structurally woven journey into the lives of a series of musicians who briefly own the instrument, from a young prodigy at a boys’ orphanage in Austria in 1793, to gypsies who later steal the instrument from a grave, to an English composer and master in the late 1800’s, and then to a young woman in Communist China in the 1960’s, where the government seeks to have the violin destroyed, before the narrative takes the viewer back to the present day. Here, the story is ultimately tied together and we learn the secret to the Red Violin’s mysterious color and beautiful sound. Each segment of the journey is performed in the country’s language, giving a true sense to the story and what the instrument means to each character.

While the screenplay could have been a bit stronger, placing greater emphasis on developing the characters and the four individual narratives, the story overall is uniquely effective, and performances are magnificent across the board. This is particularly true for Jackson, who successfully manages to step outside of the typical Hollywood role he is often associated with and walk a line where we’re not ready to judge his character as a hero or villain until the very last scene. In addition, the Oscar Winning musical score, composed by John Corigliano, and played primarily by Joshua Bell, is excellent.

There is something appealing about any kind of art form that is, essentially, teaching one how to love, and that is, in a sense, what The Red Violin does for classical music. That said, one needn’t be a big fan of classical music to enjoy this film.

(This is my mystery red violin, history unknown, believed to be a 1905 Heinrich Th. Heberlein. The varnish smells like chocolate.)