Buying a Bratsche in the Berge

(That is, buying a viola in the mountains...)

Mittenwald houses, with frescoes, nestled in the mountains.
(Julia's picture)

My parents were here for ten days, during our kids' two-week Pfingstferien (school vacation for Whitsun or Pentecost -- Bavaria has lots of religious holidays!).   While they were here, my mother really wanted to see Mittenwald again, a quaint mountain town in the Alps near the Austrian border.  We had learned a few years ago that the violin my mother had played as a child, which is now Benjamin's, was made in this town (probably before the war) and we were considering looking for a viola there too, for Julia.

 Mittenwald has been famous for the manufacture of violins, violas, and cellos since the late 17th century, and about a dozen Geigenbaumeister still have workshops here.








We learned a little history of the place from the Geigenbaumuseum (violin making museum):  in the middle ages Mittenwald was a stop on the trade route over the mountains between Italy and the Germanic regions to the north.  A native of the town, Matthias Klotz, learned lute and violin making in Padua, Italy (and probably also in Füssen, in the Bavarian Alps), then returned home around 1685 to set up shop.  Mittenwald was a good location to start a luthier business, being on an established trade route, but also the mountain slopes had plenty of high quality spruce and maple trees.

Staute of Matthius Klotz,  Mittenwald's
first master violin maker.

Klotz's workshop, and his students and sons, established the long and successful tradition in Mittenwald as a production center for world-class string instruments.

So... May 21st, Julia and I and my parents arrived on the train (Benjamin stayed in Munich with a friend, Thomas was at work) and walked around the picturesque village for a bit before walking into the first violin shop on the main street.

This first stop was not a success.  Partly my mistake for telling the guy how much (actually, how little, in hindsight) that we were hoping to spend, and partly because his shop is probably the most visible and so he must be a bit jaded about non-serious tourists.  Anyway, he only had two violas, and Julia tried the less expensive, while I got a lecture (in German) about having to pay for hand-made craftsmanship versus instruments made in China...   The patronizing tone unfortunately turned Julia, who was already shy about this whole process, into being very reluctant to walk into other shops.  Ah well, this was a learning process.

 We had a list of addresses and a map, so we walked around (dodging the rain clouds) and tried a couple workshops located in the residential parts of town.  For three of them there was no answer upon ringing the doorbell (since I had foolishly not made appointments in advance, and it was also during the 12-2 lunch hour, it was not a surprise I suppose), but we did find master Anton Sprenger in his workshop, and he was happy to show us a few of his violas.  We didn't find one we loved (Julia thought they sounded like her rental instrument), although it was interesting to learn from him that his family had made Mozart's violin!

Some of Leonhardt's violins, in his showroom.
(Picture by Julia)

Refreshed after a Kaffee und Kuchen break (yum) we convinced Julia to try one more shop.  Luckily.

Rainer Leonhardt's workshop was large, bright, and had over a dozen violas (and cellos, and scores of violins).  I had realized by this time that, of course, you get what you pay for, so I didn't squawk when he pulled out several violas with pricier tags on them as we tried to find the best size for her.  (Unlike violins, which are standard sizes, violas are not, and come in lengths from about 38 to 43 cm.)  As we narrowed down to the 40-41 cm range, Julia picked up a beautiful dark-stained 41 cm instrument.  She played a few notes and her eyes lit up -- it had a warm, rich sound, even for the open A-string (which for many violas seems difficult to achieve).  One of Leonhardt's apprentices, who plays well, came in to demonstrate for us the three or four violas that Julia was considering, and although they all sounded wonderful, the dark-stained one was clearly for Julia (and me) the favorite.  But with price at nearly double what we'd originally thought, Julia seemed very worried about her grandparents spending that much money on her.  She talked to Thomas on the phone for a while, and as it was now after 5 p.m. and she was obviously tired and worried, he suggested we all go to dinner and think about it.  Herr Leonhardt was of course fine with us coming back later, and he drove us to a lovely Bavarian restaurant with really great food.  That helped the decision, which for me and I think my parents was already clear (my mother really wanted to buy Julia a viola).  So after dinner, just having avoided a downpour, we walked back to the workshop and bought a viola!

Julia with Geigenbaumeister Rainer Leonhardt.
(My dad took this photo.  Yes, that's a blue violin behind him...)

My mother took pictures of his workshop while I
dealt with finances.

After it was all settled, with a fabulous viola procured, Julia's mood
skyrocketed...