Fiddles on a Lee shore
The winters of the 1690s were bad all over Europe. Indeed, it was known as the Little Ice Age. That was why the trees in the mountains of Italy grew slowly and provided the timber for the great violins made by the Amati family and Stradivarius in Cremona. Right? "Rubbish", says Bill Patterson.
William D Patterson doesn't like myths. As Ireland's best-known teacher of violin-making, he surely has the right to an opinion ( logic too, after all ten years slow growth can't account for many millimetres of wood in the trunk of a three hundred year old sycamore). "What it has done is make people believe that anything old, even junk that's been tarted up, is better than a modern instrument with good materials, made by a conscientious craftsman".
By 1971, he had gone to Cremona in Italy, home of the great violin makers, to study with Pietro Sgarabotto and G-B Morassi. There was no reason why Cremona should have become a centre for violin-making, he says. In the summer it's hot and sticky, and glue doesn't dry all that easy. After that, he didn't want to return to the States without seeing a bit of Europe, and it was in Bradford in England that he met Peter Kilroy, maker of wire-strung harps. When Peter decided to head for Clonakilty, Bill went too, and since most of the folk needing violins came from around Cork, it seemed natural to move into the city.
Almost as a footnote Bill remarks that in 1977 he won the top award from the Irish Crafts Council for excellence in craftsmanship. In 78 and 79 he also won the gold medal in the musical instrument section.
He shows me his top instruments, a Perry and Wilkinson, made in No. 4, Anglesea St., Dublin in 1821, and a Kennedy-Smith violin; the firm was founded in 1741 in Piccadilly, London, at the Sign of the Harp and Hautboy, and this particular instrument was sold by Elizabeth Wright of Middle-Row in 1824.
Are there any great rarities still left in Ireland? "Doubtful. By now the attics and garrets have been well combed out and trawled. Also, though this is a personal opinion, what seemed to happen among the Irish big houses was that the real Amati was kept in London, and someone like Perry was asked to make a copy for the house in Ireland."
Does he play any music himself. No, though many makers came into it that way. He arrived through art history, and that first harpsichord he made is still there in Florida. By now he has taught upwards of 30 pupils, and it's difficult to keep track of all of them. The couple I've spoken to testify to two qualities of Bill: patience and uncompromising standards which he ties to pass on to his students.
August 1997