Rachel's Musical Adventures: My d'amore d'ebut!

June 9, 2007 at 4:13 AM

Hi, everyone!

On April 29 and 30, I finally realized a long time dream - I performed for the first time on the viola d’amore.

For those who don’t know about the viola d’amore, read on (for those who do, you can skip to paragraph 8). Unlike the violin and viola da gamba families with instruments from treble to bass, the viola d’amore is an instrument without a family. Perhaps it can be best described as a supplemental instrument, like those in the wind family (oboe/English horn, flute/piccolo, etc.). No one has ever begun music lessons on it, and it doesn’t exist in children’s sizes.

It’s a cousin to both the violins and the viols, with the flat back and rounded shoulders of a viola da gamba, but held on the shoulder and played like a violin. It usually has 6 or 7 strings with an equal number of sympathetic (vibrating, non-playing) strings underneath. Consequently, the pegbox is very long (which makes it quite heavy to hold!). The scroll is often in the shape of a blind cupid’s head, so perhaps its name means “viola of love.” However, the sound holes are in the shape of an Islamic flame (not the C-curves of a viol or the f-holes of a violin), so it may be the “viola of the Moors.”

Violas d’amore first appeared in the world in the late 1600s (the violins and viols developed in the 1500s), and many early examples had no sympathetic strings. The viola d’amore has a unique, sweet sound. Leopold Mozart described it as “a special kind of violin that sounds especially lovely in the stillness of the night.”

Many violin virtuosos of the baroque period played the viola d’amore, such as Locatelli and Pisendel. In the 20th Century, it was championed by violists such as Casadesus and Hindemith. Great composers from Bach, Telemann, and Vivaldi, to Massenet, Puccini, and Janacek have been inspired to write music for the instrument. Famous makers who crafted violas d’amore include Gagliano, Gofriller, Grancino, Guadagnini, Landolfi, Ruggieri, Stainer, Storioni, and Testore. A Stradivari pattern exists, but no surviving instrument has been located.

Since the 19th Century, the viola d’amore’s tuning has been standardized. From low to high: A (a third below the viola’s Cing), D, A, D (the same as a violin’s Ding), F# (or F-natural), A (the same as the violin), and D (one note below the violin’s Eing). However, in the 18th Century, more than 20 different tunings were used, with the strings tuned to the key of each particular composition.

(If you want to learn more about this cool instrument, two of the best web sites are http://www.violadamore.com and http://www.violadamoresocietyofamerica.org).

I had been interested in trying the viola d’amore ever since it was first described to me in my late teens. For years, I’ve been asking around with absolutely no luck, trying to find one in Chicago, or anywhere in the Midwest within driving distance. About 6 months ago, someone suggested that I call Liz Cifani, the principal harpist of the Lyric Opera Orchestra. It turns out that her mother had played the viola d’amore. Her dying wish was that her instrument never be sold and be loaned to someone who would enjoy and appreciate it. The instrument is beautiful, a 19th Century replica of a late-18th Century type, with 7+7 strings. I’m very fortunate to have received the use of this incredible instrument.

I decided that for my very first concert, it would be enough of a challenge to find the notes on 7 strings without changing my tuning around for different pieces. I picked the key of D Major and chose three works – a Vivaldi Concerto, a Haydn Divertimento, and a Stamitz Sonata. I used recently-printed editions with the notes given as sounding pitches, using both alto (viola) and treble (violin) clefs. At first, playing the instrument was an incredible challenge. I was completely disoriented – placing my bow on the 6th string while fingering the 5th string. And, with the different tuning, I had no idea where any of the notes were! I also found that the curve of the bridge was narrower than that of the violin, so consecutive strings were much closer.

Gradually, my coordination improved and, as I increased my practice time, a new challenge was aching fingertips. The lowest strings are quite a bit fatter than those of a modern viola. I now have a newfound admiration for cellists who have to press those thick things all day. (And after having to tune 14 strings, I also have much more sympathy for harpists.) It was also interesting to regulate the tone production across such a wide range of strings. I had to constantly control weight shifts in my bowing, much more so than on the violin. On top of all that, there were all kinds of technical passages in the Stamitz including harmonics, left-hand pizzicato, and runs up to the end of the fingerboard.

It was only in the last week before the concert that the instrument finally felt natural and intuitive in my hands. What a thrill! I’ve definitely fallen in love with the “viola of love,” and I can’t wait to learn more repertoire!

with my viola d'amore