Every so often, I consider playing my violin. The instrument was given to me by my great-aunt, who had bought it for her son. At the time, I was in the 8th grade. My town had a renowned violin restorer who not only serviced instruments of local students as a home business, but received commissions from orchestral musicians. My mother took this violin for his assessment. About $60 later, a significant amount in the mid-1960s, I had a refinished instrument with strings and sturdy case. In the ensuing 60 years, that instrument, now probably nearing a hundred years old, has never had additional service. In high school, I played in the orchestra but lacked the talent to continue at my college. Periodically, I would take it from its case and play, usually simple stuff like Mary Had a Little Lamb or Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I replaced strings once, I think.
This past year, I thought of playing it again. I knew the bow had become thin. With an internet search for luthiers near me, the online estimates for restoration did not pay. For being a research subject, though, I received a $50 Amazon Card. Unlike monetary honoraria, this has to be redeemed for stuff. I searched for bows, purchasing a suitable student bow and had a little left over for some other petty indulgence. It arrived a few days later in a long cardboard box. I opened it, then took it upstairs to where I keep my violin. When I opened the case, all the remaining hair from the current bow had split. I removed the hair. With a little rosin, I played a tune or two, then put the new bow back into its case, as the case had clips for two bows.
I did not play it again. With another research project, one which paid subjects like me a much higher amount for a more intense ordeal, I needed to perform part of what the researchers needed at a large regional mall. It's a place that once enabled people to gather, but its peak has passed. On a summer weekday afternoon, not many shoppers shared the space with me. Coming early, I walked around. That afternoon, the mall hosted a craft fair, including a table with a lady selling violins and supplies. We chatted about my not very accomplished violin history. I looked at the display of pre-owned bows, telling her I would return to buy one after I performed my assignment for the university researchers. As I completed my brisk walking session and related exercises for the school's Gait Mechanics study, I returned to the table. For a small sum, paid in cash, I now had another bow. This one I left in its plastic sleeve outside the case after returning home. The violin with a new bow and bald bow sat in its case with the instrument another few months, under a bedroom window. The mall bow remained in its plastic sleeve next to it.
Months elapsed. Every Sunday, when I fill out my weekly agenda, I invariably include Violin on this too cluttered list. My Daily Task List, done every night for the next day, transfers that Violin notation. Daily Tasks get prioritized. That violin session never gets implemented. Until mid-December. One afternoon, I went to the case, brought it to my bed, and opened it. The new bow, less than a year old, stored properly slack, had already shed about a quarter of its strands. Weather, humidity. Probably not. That spare used bow, still in its sleeve since bringing it home from the mall, remained unaffected.
What might have taken weeks and consultation in another era now comes to resolution in minutes with a search engine and by tapping into the mavens who lurk on reddit/violin. The problem has a differential diagnosis, helped by the unaffected nature of another bow stored adjacent to the case but not in it. Same environment. Same slack. Must be a problem within the case, as the original bow met the same fate. Unknown to me, but very familiar to dedicated violinists, there are mites that seek their nutrition from a form of protein necessary for bow hair to remain intact. That would explain why the two bows in the case shed, though placed there years apart. These insects, in their larval phase, also consume portions of strings made of catgut but not made of metal. And the wooden parts of a violin remain unaffected.
I took the case to another room where I have good light. Larval shells strewn along the edges of the case. The internet also outlines solutions. Some come as articles, other advice from Reddit/violin subscribers. Fortunately, most of these I can do myself. Remove everything from the case. The bow was placed with the mall bow in the plastic sleeve as soon as I detected this. Probably discard the original bow as unsalvageable. Then vacuum the case, with attention to the crevices using an edge attachment to a hand vacuum. I have that. Next, there are several recommendations. The most common involves leaving the case outdoors in bright sunlight for two days, then disinfecting chemically with one of several options. Then prevention by adding a special treated sachet. Then return the violin, bow from amazon.com, rosin, and pitchpipe to the case. All within my capacity, though two consecutive days of bright sunlight without precipitation need daily anticipation from a winter weather report. Once the weather cooperates, I will begin the vacuuming.
I first played a violin with school lessons in third grade. Now, past retirement, I've never encountered this, not even heard about it, but enough other people have to offer realistic solutions. As the new calendar year begins, one where expressing gratitude frames the year ahead, appreciation to many experts seems in order. Information wizards who made searching for anything easy. Violin experts who post summaries of how to address my problem, so I can find it in minutes. Some very generous lurkers on Reddit who share expertise that I lack. Should be bowing my instrument again before long.
