John Dilworth
HARDIE, Matthew Born 1755 Jedburgh, died 1826 Edinburgh, Scotland UK. Popularly known as the ‘Scottish Stradivari’. Apprenticed as a joiner. In military service 1778-1782. Established as a professional repairer by 1784, his first instruments date from c.1790 from an address in Lawnmarket, Edinburgh. This address changed frequently, and Hardie evidently struggled economically, being imprisoned for debt in 1795 and 1825. His training as a maker is unclear, but by 1792 he was in some sort of contact with the London dealers Longman & Broderip, possibly through the agency of the Edinburgh dealer Robert Bremner. From an early stage he made sophisticated copies of Stradivari models, particularly the ‘long pattern’, comparable with the best work being done in London by Panormo rather than the mass-produced Stainer copies which then predominated. Assisted by his son Thomas from 1822 at 10 Paul’s Work, Edinburgh, where he may have employed other local makers whose known style strongly reflects Hardie’s own, notably David Stirrat and John McGeorge. His work is generally very fine, and he was very influential in the fledgling Scottish school of the time. His Stradivari copies are very closely observed, beautifully made, and finely varnished, generally in a light orange-brown. There are a few mannerisms; the volutes of the scroll often show point marks, similar to Guadagnini, and also like Guadagnini, there is a tendency for the lower circles of the soundholes to be slightly oval, and generally rather close to the edge. More Amati-like instruments also occur, some with an extra quarter-turn to the volute. There are several fine Stradivari-model cellos extant, and also small violas. Made by Matthew Hardie Edinburgh / 1810 Matthew Hardie Edinburgh, 1809 Made by Matt: Hardie & Son / Edinburgh [Rattray]
William Meredith Morris
He was born in Edinburgh in the year 1755, died in St. Cuthbert’s Poorhouse, Aug. 30, 1826, and was buried in Greyfriars’ Churchyard. His work is excellent, and deserves much more attention than has been given it by English connoisseurs and writers. All English writers on the violin assert that Hardie copied N. Amati, a fact which is denied by Mr. Honeyman, who says that he copied Stradivari. Dogma should be based on truth. There is such a thing as a logical principle of contradiction — a thing cannot both be and not be at the same time. The truth is, Matthew Hardie copied both Amati and Stradivari, and it is so self-evident that I am astounded that any one who undertakes to write on the subject should be ignorant of it. I have both seen and handled genuine examples of his art, some of which were on the Amati and some on the Stradivari model. So far as my experience goes, Hardie made about as many copies of the one as he did of the other. Except as regards varnish, his Amati copies will compare very favourably with the best work of Benjamin Banks. His tone is decidedly larger than that of Banks, but what it gains in quantity it often loses in quality. He was a prolific maker, and his fame must have spread far and near in his own day, since there were numerous instruments of his make to be found in the south of England, and some even in South Wales and the west of Ireland, so long ago as the early part of last century. One beautiful violin on the Amati model was for over fifty years in the possession of the Barham family, Trecwn, in far-away Pembrokeshire. The old squire of Trecwn bought it somewhere about 1830 of one of his tenants, a Mr. Campbell, who hailed from Scotland. In 1880 the last member of the Barham family died, and the beautiful old ” Hardie ” disappeared. I played on this fiddle more than once, and have a vivid recollection of its clear, responsive Maggini-like tone. The Hardies have a sort of traditional bias towards the Maggini tone. In my time, in the capacity of expert, I have examined about thirty of the violins of this maker, the majority of which, so far as my recollection goes, were on the grand Amati model. What particularly struck me was the indisputable evidence produced in each case as to the pedigree of the instrument, showing that the purchase was made by a deceased member of the family of the owner, either from the maker himself, or from some one else during the lifetime of the maker. It proved, as already stated, that Hardie’s fame had reached to the far limits of the British Isles before he had laid down his tools. I doubt whether the fame of Banks, Forster, or Duke had spread so far in their own lifetime. It is not just, therefore, on the part of English authors to ignore this remarkable man’s work. Hart, Haweis, and one or two more animadvert rather severely on the sins of omission of continental writers, forgetful of the fact that they themselves do scant justice to Scottish makers of renown. Scotland has produced quite an army of fiddle-makers, some of whom have left us examples of their art that will in many respects vie with our classical chefs d’oeuvre. Had the early Hardies, M’George, Stirrat, &c., been more fortunate in the production of varnish, much of their work would be equal to the best work of English makers.
Matthew Hardie made no attempt at originality : he did his best to copy faithfully, but he was original in spite of himself. The principal measurements are generally in strict keeping with the original, but the stringency of figures does not imprison the personality of the man. When there is a strict watch set over self in the definition of the outline, individuality bursts the bonds in sunder and runs up the sides of the arch, only to sit down there and laugh at the man with the gouge. The sound-holes of the Amati copies are noteworthy. Here the truth of the foregoing remarks will become evident to any one who makes a close examination of the work. The sound-holes of N. Amati are artistic and quiet ; they are always so cut and set in the table as not to call attention to themselves. Hardie’s sound-holes are artistic enough, but they arrest one’s attention, and speak to the eye with a sort of mute humour.
I had always imagined old Matt. Hardie to be a strange mixture of veneration and irony even before I had read a line about him. His life is written in his work. Look at his Strad copies ! The strong plates, the correct outline, and the graceful arching are evidence of a mind that was prostrate at the feet of the gods, but the saucy corners, and the up-tossed head betray something very akin to cynicism.
We have a parallel in the world of letters. Shelley, the poet, was an iconoclast in his calmer moments, but he prayed earnestly to the Deity in an Alpine thunderstorm. The only difference is that the proportion of veneration and cynicism is reversed. It is said that Hardie made many cheap instruments of poor wood, with imitation purfling, in his early days. It is quite possible, though I have never seen any poor instruments of his make. Most great makers have turned out indifferent work at one period or another of their life. Art is very much the creature of circumstances, and bears her dignity according as these smile or frown. There are artists living among us to-day who are capable of great things, but who are too poor to buy timber for the fashioning of their idols. They may see the god in the tree, as Michael Angelo saw his ” David ” in the rough slab of marble, but neither the right tree nor the right stone is always to be had for the asking. Hardie was evidently badly off for timber at more than one period of his life, if the story of the nail-marked wood be true. There is nothing very artistic about nail-holes, and little of value about weather-beaten, half-rotten paling slabs to make them desirable for fiddle-wood. Many, perhaps the majority, of Hardie’s backs are very plain, but I have seen a few with exceedingly handsome and well-marked wood, cut so that the curl ran at a moderate inclination (vide illustration). The button is usually rather longer and more oval than the buttons of Amati or Stradivari. The sound-holes in the Stradivari copies are a trifle short ; the exact length in a specimen recently examined by me being 2 15/16in. The holes also did not recline so much, and the distance between them at the upper turns was about 1 3/4 in. His margins are moderately full, but the edges are not always so strong as they should be. The modern taste has improved upon the classical practice in respect to the edges. Nowadays, in high-class work, the edges are left stronger and withal delicately rounded — a custom which is much to be commended from the point of view of utility, and not to be deprecated artistically. Hardie’s varnish is a spirit one, thinly laid on ; the colour is yellow — dark yellow to yellowish-brown. The basis is probably nothing more than gamboge, or gamboge and aloes, which in process of time is oxidised almost black, according to the nature of the menstrua and the method of application. Hardie’s tone is good, even in his inferior instruments, and beautiful in his best. The inner strings are full and mellow, and the first string is sweet and silvery. The tone has a lingering echo which is pathetic and appealing.
Hardie was an enthusiast in his art, and his enthusiasm was of the contagious sort. Quite a coterie of cultured men gathered around him, who became infected with the fiddle-making fever. Among them were Peter Hardie, of Dunkeld, his cousin and a student at the Edinburgh University, David Stirrat, John Blair, George M’George, Alexander Yoole the solicitor, and others. Matthew Hardie was himself an educated man, and his society was sought by these men as much on account of his refined wit as on account of his fiddle lore. Many a congenial hour did these men of like passions pass together in the atelier in Low Calton. What a pity the sympathetic brush of Sir Joshua was not there to trace on canvas those faces radiant with the joy of the fiddle, or the faithful pen of a Boswell to give posterity word-pictures of those unique personalities ! Labels : —
(O MADE BY MATT. HARDIE & SON, EDINBURGH, 1797
(2) MADE BY MATTHEW HARDIE, EDINBURGH, 1810
(3) MATTHEW HARDIE, EDINBURGH 1809
The last two figures in the date are handwritten.
