First Baroque Violin lessons - Part 1

What is actually the difference between Baroque and “classical” violin playing?

Teaching is a fascinating activity—I am convinced that I learn just as much, or perhaps even more, than my students.

One thing that has become increasingly clear to me is what really defines Baroque violin playing—or rather, what one needs to do for a Baroque violin not only to sound stylistically appropriate, but simply to sound beautiful. I am currently learning this above all by observing my students—especially complete beginners.

So here we are—the first Baroque violin lesson has arrived. An instrument strung with pure gut strings is ready, along with a Baroque bow, and there is great excitement!

We play a little together…

But how can it be that such a beautiful instrument, with expensive strings and a specialised bow, somehow sounds thin and not particularly beautiful—when the same player can produce a wonderful sound with their usual “modern” setup?

Here we encounter the first major difference: Baroque music, its sound aesthetic, and how we realise this through bow technique are fundamentally different from music of the 19th and 20th centuries. We must first adjust our mindset. In classical training, one spends hours working to make the bow stroke equally strong in both directions. A “seamless bow change” is also highly valued. But if we pursue these ideals with a Baroque bow, the music not only sounds angular and fragmented—the bow itself is not designed for this, and the tone becomes weak and indecisive.

So we must relearn: inequality is beautiful.

Just like writing with a quill pen, where elegant letters are formed through contrasts of strong and light strokes, or like a painting by Caravaggio, where chiaroscuro (light and shadow) intensifies expression—so too in playing, down-bows and up-bows can and should have different qualities. As a starting point, one might simply say that down-bows—often aligned with the “strong” beat—carry more weight and sink a little deeper into the string. But this should never become a rigid rule.

Perhaps it was the Industrial Revolution that accustomed us to striving for “equality”? With the rise of machines—whose strength and beauty lie in producing identical movements effortlessly—this fascination may also have influenced the arts.

So what helps us to rethink, and to enter this “unequal” Baroque way of playing?

I find that “speaking” with the bow is the most immediate and enjoyable way. We place ourselves around the year 1600, when composers such as Giulio Caccini (Le nuove musiche, 1602) were driving new developments in music. They preferred to express words and effects through a solo voice with bass accompaniment, rather than through multi-voiced textures in which the text could become blurred.

For us, then, the bow is our voice. And in Baroque music, this means not only that we can sing, but that we can sing like a Baroque singer—with words that can be “understood” and that convey a specific affect or emotion. In other words: a rich variety of articulation and colour.

So we begin with words—we speak, and then imitate this with our bows. It is especially fascinating when the student has a different native language—we “speak” Portuguese, English, French, or German with our bows. I learn a great deal from this as well! Once we have “played” our names, favourite foods, holiday destinations, or even favourite poems, something shifts—the bow stroke changes, the sound changes. We are ready for the first piece, and for the next discovery.

…Part 2 coming next week! 🎻