Scottish Violin Makers

I recently shared this article on my Essays on Music Substack, but thought it would be of interest to you as well. In my years of research, performance, teaching, writing, touring, I have often encountered a lack of understanding of Scottish history and culture, due primarily to various biases and presumptions. Some view Scotland, particularly its Celtic aspects, in the shadow of Ireland under the illusion that Irish is the “real” Celtic culture despite there being a large and growing (through current research) understanding of the footprint of the Celts. Others see Scotland in the shadow of England because it is part of the U.K. For example, a mid-20th-century edition of the authoritative multi-volume dictionary of music published by Grove’s placed its entire article about Scottish music under the primary heading of England! Studies of Scottish culture have blossomed in recent decades, but as a result of the missing links, I have found many treasures in the music, culture and history of Scotland that hadn’t been well known simply because nobody had thought to look into them. In many cultures throughout history, academics, theologians and other knowledgeable folk have suffered from blind spots born of presumption, stereotyping, and in many cases, censorship and political pressures.

The rich tradition of high-quality violin making in Scotland is no stranger to these biases, as you can read at the beginning of the article below, originally published in Scottish Life magazine in 2007. Although lists of active contemporary violin makers and courses may shift from time to time, the bulk of this article remains on point. Enjoy.

If you’re interested in my book, MusicScapes of Scotland, from which this is drawn, info about the many ways to get a copy are at this link.

The violin was given to me by an old friend, who was told by a violin shop that it had been made by some 18th century German farmer on his time off in Aberdeen during the winter months. It had no strings or bridge, and lay under my piano for a couple of years before I had the opportunity to examine it, fix it up, and make some amazing discoveries.

The violin shop had made a lot of presumptions, not unlike many who encounter Scottish violins they know nothing about. Germany has for a long time been a prime violin-making area, so it was easy to suggest that the violin was German. Perhaps the shop even thought the maker’s name, Joseph Ruddiman, sounded German.

In fact, Joseph Ruddiman was a prominent Scottish violin maker working in 18th century Aberdeen. In 1786, the famous fiddler and composer, Niel Gow, chose Ruddiman, some 70 miles away, to fix his expensive Italian violin, which had broken after a fall. My violin had been crafted by Ruddiman in 1774, the same year 15-year-old Robert Burns wrote his first song poem to a young lady he called “handsome Nell.”

Last year [2006], David Rattray, a Scotsman who works as Instrument Custodian for the Royal Academy of Music in London, published a new book called Violin Making in Scotland, 1750-1950. Measuring 10 x 13, with full-color photos and illustrations on nearly every page, the book lays out a history of Scottish violins, with detailed examples of work by about 50 key makers, and brief descriptions of nearly 400 makers, arranged by region. The book was launched in August 2006 at an exhibition showing many of the instruments, sponsored by the Edinburgh University Collection of Historic Musical Instruments and the British Violin Making Association.

In his research for the book, Rattray discovered that per capita, Scotland has probably produced more violin makers than any other country. The violins were clearly popular in Scotland and beyond. Many of the owners and some of the makers emigrated, no doubt puzzling violin shops the world over about the origins of these instruments.

Although classical music has been important in Scotland’s cities for centuries, it has generally taken a back seat to traditional music, so we can surmise that most Scottish violins were also used for fiddling.

Now comes the age-old question: what’s the difference between a fiddle and a violin? The fiddle was one of the bowed instruments invented in and around Turkey, and brought to Europe by returning Crusaders about 1000 years ago. The instrument was popular enough in Scotland to be depicted in an image at Melrose Abbey circa 1140. King James IV employed fiddlers, as did James V, and Mary Queen of Scots, whose mother-in-law, Catherine de Medici, commissioned violins from the great Italian violin maker, Andrea Amati.

The age-old answer is, there is no difference today between a violin and a fiddle. Once the violin was invented and perfected by Amati, Stradivarius, and Guarneri, it quickly took over from the more primitive instrument known as the fiddle. For some 500 years, fiddle music (usually broadly defined as nonclassical music) has been played on the violin.

Still, some violinists call their instrument a fiddle, and vice versa. Charles Cramond, an early 19th century violin maker, was listed in the Aberdeen postal directory as a “fiddlemaker” by occupation. (He later emigrated to Nova Scotia, where there is to this day no shortage of fiddlers playing Scottish music.)

Edinburgh was an early center of violin making in Scotland by the 1750s, a time when the city was considered a European center of music. Matthew Hardie and his son Thomas were two of the most renowned of Edinburgh makers.

Aberdeen followed on the heels of Edinburgh and took over the spotlight as a musical center, beginning in the last half of the 1700s. Glasgow became a prominent musical city in the mid-1800s. Violin makers flourished in each of these cities as the interest in music and the number of musicians grew, with Robert Duncan and Joseph Ruddiman establishing a northeast style in Aberdeen, and George Duncan, James Briggs, and Alexander Smillie among those who developed the craft in Glasgow.

Other parts of Scotland have fostered violin makers as well. Of the makers hailing from towns outside the major cities of Edinburgh, Glasgow and Aberdeen, some 13 makers are spotlighted in detail in Rattray’s book, and nearly 200 are presented in brief. Rattray’s book is full of photos of violins and parts of violins, showing the artistry and styles of different makers.

There is also some local history and many stories. We read of the dealings and disputes of Matthew Hardie, who spent his last days in debtors’ prison, despite being considered the “Scottish Stradivari.” One of the violins pictured was made by John Young of Aberdeen in 1844 and was owned by the late Scottish fiddler Johnny Cunningham. A photo of one of Young’s “pochettes” demonstrates the small violins used by Scottish dancing masters to play fiddle as they taught their students. We read how Cramond’s and Jamieson’s instruments may look weatherbeaten because, as confirmed by the great fiddler and composer J.S. Skinner, musicians would often carry a fiddle (and drag a bass!) 8 or 10 miles in wet slush to play for a barn dance.

The maker of my regular violin (not the old Ruddiman) is listed in the book. Alexander Hume of Dumfries was an award-winning violin maker, but made some pretty poor life choices. He was hounded out of Dumfries due to scandals and lawsuits involving his children, including his son Jock, who was a violinist on the Titanic.

Today in Scotland, there is a burgeoning number of fine young musicians, especially fiddlers, so it is perhaps not surprising that there also appears to be a renaissance of violin making. One group, called “Violin Makers Scotland” consists of four makers and a bow maker from Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Shetland, who are making a go of the trade. The Shetland member of Violin Makers Scotland sold several of his instruments to members of Fiddlers' Bid, the virtuoso fiddle band from Shetland. Anniesland College in Glasgow offers a course in violin making attended by Scottish students, and there are several courses in England.

Meanwhile, my old Ruddiman violin from Aberdeen has undergone a renaissance of its own. Like many 18th century violins, a neck graft had been done in the 19th century to “modernize” the neck while retaining the artistry of the maker’s carving on the scroll and keeping intact the pegbox, where the strings are tuned. Unfortunately, the neck graft burst apart recently, but the violin itself was unharmed. A master violin maker is carving a new neck and bridge, with advice from David Rattray, to return the old violin to its original condition.

In taking apart the old instrument for the repairs, we discovered that its 18th century Aberdeen violin maker was on top of his game in a number of ways. He was up to date on the newer trends in the art, tilting the neck back rather than keep it level as in baroque violins. He also used a screw instead of a nail to attach the neck to the violin body, in addition to the usual dovetailing and gluing. This detail is significant because screws did not appear in violins on the continent until after 1800, but in 1774, Ruddiman was already using them in Scotland, only four years after the first screw lathe was invented in northern England. Far from being an amateur German maker, he was a Scottish maker at the height of his art.

Soon, an old Scottish violin will be playing the tunes of its youth, with a sound to match.