Giovanni Rota came too late to join the great list of Cremonese makers, but the comparatively few examples that turn up today show that he had a formidable and original talent, equal to many of his predecessors and certainly most of his contemporaries. He was apprenticed to Lorenzo Storioni, perhaps the best opportunity for any violin maker in that comparatively impoverished period, but developed a remarkably distinctive style in a short time.

By 1747, violin making in Cremona had virtually ground to a halt, with the deaths of Antonio Stradivari, Guarneri del Gesu and Carlo Bergonzi within a decade. The revival took another few years, but can be credited entirely to the efforts of one man, Lorenzo Storioni. Unfortunately, in that short time, many of the techniques and processes of Cremonese making appear to have been lost, and Storioni had in many respects to reinvent the craft. He did so only partially, but with considerable success. While never reaching the artistic heights of Stradivari and Amati, Storioni’s instruments generally have a sound in the great tradition, and a deserved reputation among modern players. What they lack is a consistency of ideas, veering along many different avenues, evidently in search of the true Cremonese genius. His links with that genius were quite real and close. Storioni’s relationships with the families of Rugeri, Bergonzi and Stradivari were genuine and substantial, but a generation away from the great makers themselves.

 Perhaps because Rota’s work is comparatively rare and produced in a shorter time period, it is easy to see a more consistent vision and a more cohesive approach than Storioni’s. His working life was comparatively short, from around 1787 to 1810, and perhaps unstable. A native of Cremona, he appears to have worked briefly in Mantua, judging from a handful of recorded labels, but also to have moved around within Cremona, residing in various of its parishes at various times. His career got off to a slow and inauspicious start, apprenticed to Storioni at 19 after becoming an orphan in 1786.
   

   In terms of pure craftsmanship, it could be said that Rota outstripped his master Storioni. You might even add to that a superior aesthetic sensibility, given Storioni’s waywardness and apparent haste, yet inevitably the more productive Storioni is deservedly much better known and respected than his pupil. Although naturally strongly influenced by the later period of Storioni, Rota shows a greater respect for symmetry and proportion in his work. His violin form is boldly drawn, generously broad in the upper and lower bouts, but neatly waisted in short curving centre bouts. The open, strong spirit is also derived from the broad and deeply worked edges, inlaid with thick, assertive strands of purfling which meet in short, slightly pointed corners. On the table, the soundholes show similar strength of character; wide and upright, yet cleanly cut and well positioned on the outline with perfect balance. The lower wings are deftly fluted, and the nicks cut deeply and straight-edged.

    The arch typically has a rather flat-topped appearance, of medium height, but with quite a wide recurve to the edge, more Amati-like than Stradivari, although not as elegantly executed. There are no pins locating the back to the upper and lower blocks, a departure from earlier Cremonese practice, but the interior work is neatly carried out, with strong willow linings cleanly morticed into pine blocks.

              
    The materials used are quite revealing. Rota regularly used the sort of timber which the previous generation would surely have rejected out of hand, but still managed to produce an attractive and characterful result. The front of this violin is made from fairly broad-grained spruce, although well quartered and straight. On the treble side though, there is a band of quite narrow grain at the centre which is missing from the bass side. The assumption might well be that Rota cut this slice from the belly before jointing, to provide himself with the material for he bass-bar. On the back, a make-do-and-mend attitude is evident from the worm scarred surface. Several of Rota’s instruments have small patches and grafts let into the back, clearly original and beneath the varnish, and also clearly done to seal woodworm tracks that were already in the uncut timber. These can be seen on the lower bouts of this violin. The wood Rota used may now be considered not worth all that painstaking effort; it is quite plain, with only a subtle and irregular curl at the centre, and jointed from two slab-cut pieces. What it reveals is how hard it must have been for Rota to get hold of the raw materials in the first place. Other Rota violins are made from what is obviously the same log of wildy figured root wood, often flawed and with the grain disposed awkwardly across the back, as if it had to be carefully cut to avoid knots and even more catastrophic defects. The turn of the nineteenth century was evidently a tough time for violin makers in Cremona. 

  
The head is perhaps the most distinctively obvious Rota characteristic. Like the other aspects of the instrument, it is big and bold, quickly but accurately cut, and avoids clumsiness or awkwardness through careful balance and symmetry. The volute is big but nicely concentric in its spiralling turns, but is a little cramped and narrow. The pegbox is clearly designed for strength, and is deep and rugged, though still elegantly curved, but the combination of the deep box and large head leaves a very narrow and constricted throat that completes the definitive Rota scroll.

The woodwork is not meticulously finished, but the varnish sits beautifully on the surface, reflecting each grain of the wood and each gouge cut in the scroll to very pleasing effect. While not the legendary varnish of Stradivari, the more modestly tinted golden orange that both Storioni and Rota used is still tender and attractively textured, with a warm, oily glow, and a depth and richness that is difficult to describe, let alone recreate.
Rota died in obscurity sometime after 1810, almost certainly before both his master Lorenzo Storioni in 1816 and his far more successful contemporary Giovanni Battista Ceruti, who passed away in 1817. Ceruti drew heavily from Storioni’s work for inspiration, and capitalised successfully, founding a strong new school of violin making in Cremona and Milan. Giovanni Rota made less of his opportunity, but nevertheless achieved a distinctive and strong working style of his own, which is becoming more appreciated and valued with time.    

 The violin featured in this article is for sale at the Bromptons auction of November 3rd.