Is that a violin or a fiddle?

If you have read my first novel, “One Fiddle Too Many,” you might have picked up that I have more than a passing interest in violins. Some close friends and family members have suggested that it is a substance abuse problem, and on occasion have attempted interventions. The closest they have come to success is an agreement that I divest myself of two instruments for each one that I acquire. This applies to all my musical instruments, not just fiddles, with the result that I am down to three playable violins. (This does not count bass fiddles which get special consideration. The agreement is more complex than most U.N. treaties, and at least as controversial. For example, my workshop which is full of violin carcasses and bones, is exempt from the agreement, but on a case by case basis can be made subject to most of the terms.)

As to my playing ability, I am a passable jam session bluegrass fiddler. I can do some Irish, some old-time, some country. I can’t read a stick of music, but I have a pretty good ear, and I can figure my way through a lot of what I need to.

Today, I am going to address the issue of the difference between a fiddle and a violin. There is none. I could end this piece right here, but what a waste of the internet if I did. I mean Al Gore went to all that trouble to invent the internet, the least I can do is my part to fill it with what little bit of information I can scrape together. So, here goes.

People associate the word fiddle with old time country fiddlers from the backwoods of the Appalachians. Most fiddlers probably have little brothers with pale skin and pointy ears who play the banjo. The fact is that the word fiddle probably pre-dates the word violin in reference to bowed string instruments.

I have heard some people say that a fiddle is flatter than a violin. Not true. The instruments that are more rounded and more highly or gracefully arched are designs that came from violinmakers such as Amati or Guarnerius. Stradivari came along with his design that flattened out the arches.

I have heard folks say that a fiddle player sets his sound post a little farther back, farther up, closer to the center, closer to the edge, grain running crossways to the top, grain running with the top; everything in the world to try to differentiate it from a violin. The fact of the matter is this: There is one place for the soundpost to be installed properly. Minute adjustments in any direction can be made by a luthier in conjunction with the musician to reflect personal preference. But that does not turn a violin into a fiddle. (If you don’t know what the sound post is, fear not. I will publish an article on this remarkable 3 inch piece of spruce dowel another time.)

It’s the strings! Fiddlers play on steel strings. Violinists play on gut strings. First of all I don’t know anybody who uses gut strings anymore. Especially here in Florida where they would grow mold and rot. I know a lot of fiddlers and we all agree on this: steel strings are very useful in the garden for making fences around your vegetable patches. You want your fiddle to sound good spend some money on strings with some kind of synthetic core wrapped with something smooth. A string that is good enough for a concert hall will be just as welcome at a barn dance.

I guess the myth I hear most often regards the bridge. The bridge is that little slice of maple that hold up the strings. The strings cross over it and it transmits the vibrations to the body of the instrument where the magic takes place. On a properly set up classical violin, this bridge has a rather dramatic arch to it. This enables to violinist to play each string separately and distinctly. I had long been told that if one is going to fiddle, you need a barely perceptible curve to the bridge so that you can play two strings at once easily.

Old bridge on the left; new one is on the right.

Now it is true that a fiddler will play more of what we call double stops – playing two strings at once. Why that is may be the subject another article altogether. But in fact, classical music has its share of double stops, so it is entirely possible and often necessary to play two strings at once on a highly arched bridge.

Now, with this as background, let me tell you about one of my recent bouts with lutherie.  It is a perfectly adequate violin. The person from whom I bought it was a well-known and highly accomplished professional fiddle player. The bridge was very nearly flat, and the soundpost was almost adjacent to the foot of the bridge rather than the recommended 4 – 5 mm back. I played this just as it was set up when I bought for probably the next 12 to 15 years. Volume and tone suited me perfectly, and this is the instrument on which I learned most of what I know.

I decided to mess around with things. I cut a new soundpost and installed it properly, then set to work fitting a bridge of classical description to it. Fitting a bridge is an activity that requires a great deal of patience, skill and very, very sharp knives. It should not be done during cocktail hour. So, I carved, and fit and set, and removed, and carved more, sanded a little, carved again, and finally had a very respectably carved bridge of classical proportions.

I restrung the instrument with the new bridge, tuned up the strings and with the playing of only a few notes of a scale, I wondered where my old fiddle went. I realized that I was playing an instrument that had only been giving me sixty percent (this is a very subjective assignment of a mathematical notion, mind you) of what it was capable. Everything that I liked about it got better. The high notes got brighter and stronger. The low notes took a warmth that was noticeable before, but now somehow, well warmer. Volume increased. Many folks who have heard me play the fiddle may not be pleased with that development. It will take me some time to develop the proper bowing technique to play on a classical bridge. But that’s me not the fiddle.

So, there you have proof positive that there is no technical difference between a violin and a fiddle. There may be personal preferences among individual musicians, but we are all fiddlers; we are all violinists.