1: 1727 ‘Cassavetti’ Strad viola 2: 1700 ‘Ward’ Strad violin 3: 1704 ‘Betts’ Strad violin 4: 1690 ‘Tuscan Medici’ Strad viola 5: 1697 ‘Castlebarco’ Strad cello

No one knows the date of Antonio Stradivari’s birth, but the world does know the date that he died: December 18, 1737. To mark the bicentennial of that occasion, exactly 200 years later, on December 18, 1937, Coolidge Auditorium at the Library of Congress presented a concert performed on a quartet of Stradivari instruments.

The concert was broadcast live on the radio.

The quartet of instruments used at that event, plus a third Stradivari violin and a fine Tourte bow for each instrument, were a gift to the American people from philanthropist Gertrude Clarke Whittall. On that day in 1937, in her only radio address, she said, “This collection of instruments belongs to every one of you, for they are given to our government to hold and protect forever. They may be heard in concerts held in the library, and through the medium of the radio, by an even larger audience. If the appreciation and enjoyment of music in America will be advanced thereby, the purpose of my gift will have been fulfilled.”

Whittall’s Strads were never meant to be museum pieces, though she built a handsome (and fireproof) pavilion adjacent to the concert hall for their display. Her gift included an endowment to fund free public concerts and—most unusual—money for maintaining the instruments in top playing condition. These instruments were intended to be heard. And so, Stradivari is still honored at the library with an anniversary quartet concert. This year, the concert is December 17. The concert is free, if you’re quick enough to get a ticket. (This year’s tickets for the Borromeo String Quartet performance on the instruments will be available November 9 at Ticketmaster.com.) Though they rarely, if ever, leave the building, instruments from the collection also appear onstage throughout the year at the invitation of the music division staff.

The Library of Congress stringed-instrument collection is often overshadowed by the more highly publicized collection at the Smithsonian Institution (see “Castle Made of Sand,” page 38).

The library’s Cremonese collection—a national treasure—has grown from Whittall’s original quartet, but remains small and select. Each instrument and bow is a beautifully preserved example of its maker’s best work, with celebrity pedigrees and ironclad provenance. Three violins made between 1699 and 1705 illustrate Stradivari’s evolution from his long pattern to a broader, more powerful model. The two Strad violas are among only 12 in the world, while the 1697 “Castelbarco” cello is one of only three Stradivari cellos that were never cut down to a more manageable size. Both of the del Gesù violins were made of the same wood in the same year, 1730—one of them was violin legend Fritz Kreisler’s concert instrument.

Concerts at the Library of Congress

From 1940 to 2002, the Stradivari instruments were primarily played by two resident quartets, first the Budapest Quartet and then the Juilliard. But in 2003, the picture changed and the library stopped its quartet-in-residence program and began inviting a range of musicians to do the Stradivari concerts. Some of the recent performers include the Harlem, Enso, Parker, and Borromeo quartets, and, last year, the Sybarite5, a genre-defying quintet playing an eclectic program that included Mozart, Astor Piazzolla, and Radiohead.

Radiohead?

On Strads?

At the Library of Congress?

Not as far out of character as one might imagine. The Library of Congress Concert Series has always included music at the leading edge. The library’s Coolidge Auditorium, a 500-seat acoustic gem of a hall, was built by a great patron of contemporary music, Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge, “the other Mrs. Coolidge,” as she said, not the wife of the then-President Calvin Coolidge. Like Whittall’s donation a decade later, Coolidge’s 1925 gift provided a foundation to fund performances as well as premieres of new works. Coolidge’s visionary bequest was so far ahead of its time that it required an act of Congress for the library to legally accept it. And that, for the first time, established the performing arts as part of the routine business of government, alongside roads, utilities, and foreign relations.

Coolidge commissioned new works from nearly every major composer of the 20th century: Schoenberg, Prokofiev, and Stravinsky for starters. Many of the original scores are preserved at the library. The austere, but acoustically exquisite, auditorium has seen premieres of such landmarks as Bartok’s String Quartet No. 5 and Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring, with Martha Graham dancing the lead role. Nationwide broadcasts of the Library of Congress Concert Series, now heard around the world, helped such foreign-sounding personalities as Nadia Boulanger, Nathan Milstein, and Leonard Bernstein become household names.

Indeed, music has had a place in the library from the beginning. When the government purchased Thomas Jefferson’s personal library in 1815 as the basis for the Library of Congress collection, it included 13 music books. Jefferson was an amateur violinist who was reported to have fiddled at dances held by his slaves. Coolidge and Whittall’s gifts established the Library of Congress as an important center for not only musical performance, but also creativity and research.

Their personal musical interests were quite different, but their interests and their gifts were complementary: contemporary music and classical, autograph scores by Bartok and Bach alike, and an exquisite set of instruments and an acoustically live hall in which to play them.

Sonic Qualities of the Strads

But back to Radiohead. “We love giving young artists the opportunity to play instruments they wouldn’t have access to, especially four at a time,” says senior producer Anne McLean. McLean and Carol Lynn Ward-Bamford, curator of musical instruments, work closely on programming. The December concert, which is always performed on the Stradivari quartet, is only one of many chamber concerts held throughout the year at the library. Occasionally, the music division staff will invite other musicians on the schedule to choose instruments from the collection, but not the Strads.

The staff watch visiting performers or students carefully, evaluating the possibility of inviting them back to play the Cremonese instruments. Ward-Bamford is concerned not only for the instruments’ safety, but also for the success of the performance. “These instruments are like racehorses, or like driving a Ferrari. They can get away from you,” she says. And it can backfire if the musicians are too inexperienced or not flexible enough to adapt.

As a prerequisite to performing a concert, a group must be able to spend at least two days at the library selecting and rehearsing on the instruments. “We try for three,” McLean says. Not only is giving a concert on a new instrument a challenge for the individual, it presents challenges for the ensemble. The 1697 Castelbarco cello, for example, which was made on Stradivari’s second-largest model and was never cut down to size, is often the culprit. “The cello is so big and so extraordinary,” McLean says. “The others have to play out more and learn to balance [it] differently than with their own instruments.”

Lessons Learned at the Library

For musicians in the early years of professional careers, the experience of Cremonese instruments can be eye-, or rather, ear-opening. “They kind of play themselves,” Sybarite5 violinist Sarah Whitney says. The trick is learning to lighten up on the bow and let them play themselves.

“We’re working harder on our own instruments,” she says. “To all be [playing] on well-matched instruments changed our sound as a group. It was easy to match each other.”

Cellist Laura Metcalf, a member of the Sybarite5 and assistant principal cellist with the Chamber Orchestra of New York, luxuriated in the Castelbarco’s deep, rich C string. “The sonority was much more refined,” she says.

Violist Angela Pickett, also of the Sybarite5, who was surprised and delighted to find that the Strad viola was actually smaller and louder than her own instrument, had a similar experience. “It’s funny—you go to school, study a lot, and work hard to make a good sound. And then you get to a Strad and it’s so much easier!” she says.

She remembers playing chords with the ensemble and being caught up in the sound they could create together. “We played it over and over,” she says.

Argentine violinist Sami Merdinian has had enough experience playing on Stradivari instruments to know that they were not all created equal. And even the very best Strads are all different. “Getting to know an instrument is like getting to know a person,” he says, “a human being that one talks to and gets familiar with. These instruments are easier to play, but also have more potential. It’s very easy to portray each other’s personalities.”

Merdinian also brings up a key element of the Library of Congress concerts. “The combination of the instruments and the Coolidge Auditorium made for a unique experience,” he says. “In a less good hall, you notice that it’s a wonderful instrument, but good acoustics enhance the qualities in an instrument, even expand the way the overtones ring.

“Every color one wants can be expressed.”

With a sense of “insane jealousy,” is how bassist Louis Levitt remembers his three days watching friends delve into the sonic palette of the world’s great instruments. Stradivari didn’t make basses, so Levitt found himself working harder to get the best out of his trusty old American bass. Still, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity that left Levitt inspired—inspired to try to collect a matching quintet of instruments.

Now the Sybarite5 just have to come up with the funding.

Communing with a del Gesù

“I love working with the Library of Congress,” says violinist Nicholas Kitchen, citing the library’s openness to ideas and exploration of culture. Kitchen, a busy soloist and founding member of the Borromeo Quartet, probably knows the instrument collection more intimately than anyone. He has made extensive recordings of Bach on all five violins, each one of which, he says is a “breathtaking tool and a work of art.”

One set of recordings compares the sound of each violin playing the Chaconne from Bach’s Partita in D minor (BWV 1004). The great Chaconne was written around the same time as the instruments were made, which appeals to Kitchen, and shows off the full range of tone, technique, and expression.

For the other recordings, Kitchen chose a different piece for each instrument.

“It was amazing to perceive how much personality each one has. They are pro­foundly different,” he says, “but they all have one thing in common—clarity. It’s not loudness—though they can be loud. It’s a carrying quality. You can play softly and the detail is well preserved and easy to hear.” All the way to the back of the hall.

“The ‘Betts’ is forthright and straight up,” says Kitchen, starting down the list of violins. “The Castelbarco’s sound is fine-grained and subtle. The Amati has a striking darkness, very full of character. Many Amatis are elegant, but the great ones are also powerful—and this is a great one. And also have this flavor they convey.

“The ‘Kreisler’ is the best-functioning violin on earth. It responds with an irresistible, powerful character—not aggressive, but there’s an undercurrent of resonance. The challenge here is to learn to turn that off when it’s not needed. Each piece made lots of demands and each responded to what the music needs, delicate or energetic.”

Anne McLean, the concert producer, points out that some people feel that its longtime player can influence an instru­ment, so perhaps Kitchen’s observation of the Kreisler is not entirely surprising.

The 1730 “Baron Vitta” Guarneri del Gesù, now known as the “Goldberg-Baron Vitta,” is the Kreisler’s sister instrument. Both were made from the same wood, in the same year. “Turn them over and the backs are the same.” Like siblings, Kitchen says, the two instruments have some qualities in common, but they have different characters. “The Goldberg is fiery, there’s electricity in its energy. The tone is broad and rich.”

Kitchen has a particularly intimate connection with the Goldberg, and now with the Library’s Music Division. The violin belonged to the Polish-born American violinist and conductor Szymon Goldberg, who later in life taught at Yale, Juilliard, and the Curtis Institute, where Kitchen was his student for five years. In 2007, Goldberg’s wife, pianist Miyako Yamane Goldberg, arranged for her husband’s Guarneri del Gesù to join the Kreisler in the collection of the Library of Congress. The violin was given on the condition that Kitchen have use of the instrument during his career, and that he and the Library try to continue Goldberg’s artistic and educational legacy .

As part of this commitment, Kitchen has brought students and younger colleagues to the Library to explore the instruments. One weekend, Kitchen brought three quartets at different stages of their careers to the Library: his own Borromeo quartet; the Parker Quartet, then in the early stages of their professional career; and four students from the New England Conservatory, where he teaches.

“We gave performances on Friday and Saturday, and had a discussion and question-and-answer demonstration with the audience. We had all the instruments onstage, including the ones everyone came with.”

When asked what the experience of fine instruments means to young musicians, Kitchen recalled his mentor’s approach, or attitude, toward instruments. “Mr. Goldberg taught us that whatever instrument you’re playing, at some point you have to stop thinking and trust. Just assume that you can make your own most beautiful sound on whatever instrument you have to work with.

“These violins,” Kitchen says, referring to instruments by the Amati, Stradivari, and Guarneri families, “are miraculous creatures. For the public, it’s an acoustic tool, a fascinating tone.” For the musician who plays one, each instrument has its own chemistry—a transparency of richness and color. When you hear your tone react to that transparency, you learn what you can aim for on any instrument.”

With fine old instruments out of financial reach for most musicians these days, many will make their careers on contemporary instruments. Kitchen acknowledges that the instruments produced by today’s top makers are quite satisfying, “But the experience of getting to teach yourself to play one of these old instruments is very meaningful.”

And for some of today’s brightest young musicians, the Library of Congress collection makes that experience possible.