Stradivari's Genius by Toby Faber

Author:Toby Faber [Faber, Toby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-58836-214-8
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-11-08T16:00:00+00:00

Vuillaume never forgot Tarisio’s claims for the violin he had bought from Count Cozio di Salabue, the Messiah. Such an instrument, unplayed and unaltered since it left the Master’s hands, would have been the perfect template for Vuillaume the copyist, not to mention its monetary value to Vuillaume the dealer. He must have pressed Tarisio to bring it to Paris many times, eventually realizing that it was a treasure the Italian would never give up during his lifetime. Equally, Vuillaume would have realized that he was by no means the only luthier to be aware of the Messiah’s existence. Even in Paris, he knew that Georges Chanot, not himself, was Tarisio’s preferred dealer. Moreover, by the 1850s, Tarisio’s sales trips were extending to London, where he amazed at least one collector by naming the date and maker of all his violins without even touching them. It was a remarkable feat of recognition rather than magic; Tarisio had been their original supplier. All Tarisio’s customers would have coveted the Messiah. Vuillaume could only wait and hope that his chance would eventually come.

The story of how Vuillaume achieved his dream has passed into legend. It begins with Tarisio’s neighbors in his Milanese tenement, the curiously named “Hotel of Delights.” Sometime toward the end of 1854 they noticed that the old man had not been seen for a while, or perhaps there was a strange smell. The authorities broke in to find Tarisio lying dead on a tattered bed. Two violins were clasped against him, and many more were scattered around the room. Of more interest to the officials was the hoard of securities, banknotes, and gold—400,000 lire [$1.5 million]—eventually found in a mattress. They traced the heirs, removed the body and obvious valuables, and sealed the apartment. It was only by chance that a commercial traveler in silks heard of the discovery, was on his way to Paris, and knew that Vuillaume was the person there to tell.

So Vuillaume had the luck to be the first luthier to hear of Tarisio’s death. Even so, he was right to lose no speed. Who knew what Tarisio’s family might have done with his collection? Vuillaume scraped together as much money as he could and caught the train for Italy within an hour of hearing the news. On arrival at Novara, he at once hired a coach to take him to Fontaneto, where Tarisio’s nephews still lived on a smallholding bought by their uncle ten years before. Arriving at suppertime, Vuillaume must have felt his apprehension multiplied by the sight of the relations who assembled “with every appearance of the most sordid poverty.” He accepted a glass of wine, but it was some time before he could inquire as to the whereabouts of the deceased’s violins.

“In Milan,” replied one of the nephews, the other adding, “We haven’t touched the dirty junk yet.”

As he suppressed his excitement and relief, it must have been all Vuillaume could do not to leave for Milan that instant. Besides, it was wise to check: “And nothing has been brought here at all?”

“Oh yes, six violins are here.

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