Weekender From the Meisters Fingertips: Art of Violin Making
By Lee Hyo-won
Staff Reporter
An artist's limitless imagination is not always enough ― a rich color palette is needed to allow dreams to materialize onto canvas.
Likewise, a superior violin yields sounds not available on a lesser instrument. The Israeli violinist Vadim Gluzman is famous for playing the 1690 "Ex-Leopold Auer" Stradivarius, and told The Korea Times that "playing an instrument of this caliber gives an artist almost limitless expressive possibilities."
South Korea is producing some of the most talented classical musicians and hosting premier music events ― but how about crafting the essential hardware for music?
Chung Choon-sub is one of the country's few "meisters" of crafting string instruments. While there are many local violin makers, not many are entitled to the privilege of being called "master" in German. The 42-year-old is the only Korean to graduate from the violin division of the department of musical instrument making at Westsachsischen Hochschule Zwickau (University of Applied Sciences), Markneukirchen, Germany. There is only one other Korean known to have a similar title, Kim Dong-in of Stradi Strings.
What Chung holds is no ordinary diploma but a state-acknowledged title as master artist ― meaning that he has inherited traditions and secrets of a craft that is usually passed on from father to son. It also comes with the added bonus of extraordinary tax reductions, Chung said with a laugh during a recent interview with The Korea Times.
It is no secret why there are very few meisters, let alone Asian ones.
It takes this young meister about three months to produce a violin. But to become such an artist, it takes at least a decade. It took 15 years before the legendary Italian luthier Antonio Stradivari started crafting his famous fiddles.
From Violinist to Violin Maker
Born in Gangwon Province in 1967, Chung studied the violin. But he felt the limitations of his potential as a concert violinist and became interested in violin making. When he moved to Germany in the mid-1990s, however, it became clear that learning the craft would be almost impossible as an outsider. "In Germany, violin making is a traditional art and heritage that stays inside the family," he said, explaining that he resorted to learning on his own by buying old instruments and tearing them apart.
However, a great stroke of luck enabled him to meet the great meister Adamick Fank. But the apprenticeship was cut short due to the meister's ill health, and Chung found himself knocking on the doors of 23 German meisters from a list given to him by his former teacher. "They all said 'nein' (no) and one even told me to go back to China," he said.
But good fortune was on his side and Chung had the privilege of studying under another esteemed meister, Adorf Niederhauser. In the meantime, he signed on with an arts management agency and made a living as a violinist.
After four years he finally had the prerequisites to apply to the top German university and became one of the 10 students admitted to the program each year. He was also among the few to persevere through the rigorous training ― and other hurdles such as racial discrimination ― for four years. His performance skills were a plus and he was even selected to play one of his own instruments on national television. To this day he remains the only Korean violin maker to graduate from his alma mater.
Despite the enormous tax cuts he could enjoy in Germany, Chung returned home in 2004. The meister now produces "Made in Korea" instruments in his studio in Seocho-dong, Deutsch String (www.deutschstring.com).
Business for contemporary violin makers is not easy in a market where everyone worships old instruments. Chung's studio is commissioned with more repairs than production, but the art of "continuing a tradition" remains at its heart, he said.
The meister also takes some time off from his craft to teach at Gangwon University. A problem with local classical music education is that there is very little focus on the structural aspect of instruments, said Chung. "It's important to understand the configuration of instruments in order to learn the mechanics of creating sound," he said.
Continuing Traditions, Exploring Eternal Secrets
Violin making follows set mathematical formulas, and all the "recipes" for creating a Stradivari, for example, are known. However, the craft entails continuing traditions and the meister spirit, and also exploring secrets of sound that lie in the tip of the meister's fingers.
wood:
"They say there is no room for creativity. However, one of the greatest mysteries is that even if you make several identical instruments out of the same piece of wood, they all sound different," said Chung.
Germany, Hungary, Yugoslavia, Croatia and Serbia are famous for maple wood while Macedonia and Bosnia provide the best spruce. Chinese maple wood, which is relatively similar to its European counterpart, is also used.
But everything depends on how well dried the wood is ― "We go crazy over wood that's 100, 150 years old. So antique furniture all look like good violin material for us," said Chung with a laugh. A violin carved from aged wood can produce a strikingly similar sound to a classic Stradivari, he said.
Cut:
There is a strict mathematical formula for the proportion of string instruments ― except for the viola, which allows the maker some freedom.
The belly, or front plank of the violin, influences about 70 to 80 percent of the sound. Hard wood is preferred for the belly, whereas something softer suits the back.
The bass bar, a slim piece of wood attached to the inner side of the belly, determines the resonance. Supple wood like zelkova, which Stradivari used, is ideal.
The shape of the f-hole depends on the model of the violin ― the Gruarneri has a more elongated "f" compared to the Stradivirus.
With the bridge as the central axis, the neck and tailpiece are attached to the body in mirror images of an 86-degree angle.
The scroll has nothing to do with the instrument's sound but plays a most crucial role in representing, along with the f-hole, its craftsmanship. "In a violin making competition, for example, the judge looks at the f-hole and scroll first. They embody the artistic spirit of the maker. If they are beautifully carved then it's almost a given that the rest of the violin is well made," said Chung.
Varnish:
Varnish is handmade using natural pigments like fruit extract. Shades, ranging from a khaki light brown to burnt orange, translucent red and deep brown, vary according to regional taste.
But the varnish is more than about looks ― they entail the meister's most guarded secret.
"No matter how well carved an instrument is, a bad varnish would ruin everything. I believe that the thickness of the layer of varnish sways the sound. It is difficult to achieve optimal color with a thin coating.
"No meister would ever reveal the recipe for the varnish. I spent three months trying to figure it out. When I finally got it right on my own, my meister said 'good' and then taught me a different formula. That's why it takes a good 10 years or so to learn the craft," he said.
Chung's rough, withered hands bear "honorable scars" from over the years. But he feels like his journey has only just begun. "I would not dare say I'm a meister. I always see some flaw with my work. It's a lifelong process and I still have a long way to go," he said.