The Violin Museum Is a Luthier’s Paradise

Signs that the tradition is alive and well include the Cremona International Violin Making School in town, where the old skills are taught to aspiring luthiers, as well as a triennial violin-making competition, a sort of Olympics of the trade. And there is a lovely Violin Museum. On a recent visit to the annual fair here, I met Paolo Bodini, president of Friends of Stradivari, who brought me to the five-year-old museum for a tour.

The building is the former Palazzo dell’Arte, used by the Fascists during World War II—a fact several visitors pointed out to me. The lovely new design and elevated purpose make for a welcome change, yet for some they still fail to erase painful memories.

Construction of the museum was largely funded by the Arvedi-Buschini Foundation (thanks to the efforts of Giovanni Arvedi, a local steel magnate), but the collection had begun to coalesce much earlier. The town was already in possession of over 700 artifacts from the workshop of Antonio Stradivari, donated in 1930 by luthier Giuseppe Fiorini. Then, in 1961, Alfredo Puerari, president of the Cremona Provincial Tourism Board, acquired a 1715 Stradivari violin—originally called the “Joachim,” now renamed the “Cremonese.” Residents quickly embraced the instrument as a symbol of their community, and it remained at the Town Hall for over five decades until its new home was completed. Over the years, other valuable finds were added to the assemblage.

In the museum—a space of elegant simplicity with clean flowing lines and uncluttered displays in an Italian Minimalist mode—the “Cremonese” Stradivari has been joined by 11 other rare instruments in a room called “The Treasure Box.” Among these is the Andrea Amati c. 1570 violin “Carlo IX” (whose back, scroll and ribs still show signs of the original decorations); the Bartolomeo Giuseppe Guarneri 1734 violin “Del Gesù” (once owned and played by the phenomenal virtuoso Nicolò Paganini ), purchased in 1980; and Antonio Stradivari’s 1727 violin “Vesuvio,” left to the town in 2003 by English violinist Remo Lauricella (though the town’s mayor, Gian Carlo Corada, was forced to fly to London, negotiate the inheritance tax down to €61,870 from €120,000 and then raise the money back home through a subscription). Stradivari was also a renowned maker of guitars, harps, viole da gamba, violas and cellos, and the collection includes his 1700 “Stauffer” cello, once played by Lisa Cristiani, a young Parisian to whom Felix Mendelssohn dedicated his “Romance Without Words,” Op. 109. Nearly every item is rich with remarkable history.

The twists and turns of the violin’s evolution are outlined in another gallery, where, with the aid of an electronic audio guide, visitors can trace its origins and variants, such as the lira da braccio, Leonardo da Vinci’s favorite instrument on which to improvise. The exhibit includes fascinating details: for example, about Catherine de Medici’s 30 violinists, who helped spread music from court to court, or the fact that when Jews were banned from Spain in 1492, they brought their instrument-building skills to other regions, possibly creating the first violins along the way. Walls covered with maps and posters highlighting historical developments fill a corridor.

The steps of violin construction are explained at video stations, and interactive displays cover the creation of the belly and neck; the process of filing, sanding and etching; and the construction of the bridge and the bow. A large walk-in wooden shell lined with video screens enables patrons to experience life as if from inside a violin. An instrument workshop has been installed so visitors can see and smell what early violin makers experienced. And all those bits and pieces from Stradivari’s workshop are also available for inspection. Music plays incessantly as one walks from exhibit to exhibit.

Most of the public areas are on the second floor, reached by way of a winding staircase or a small elevator. Below are a 460-seat auditorium; a private laboratory for research and restoration; and a small restaurant. This is Italy, so even the museum commissary produces delectable masterpieces. If the history doesn’t leave you smiling, the food will.

—Mr. Isacoff’s most recent book is “When the World Stopped to Listen: Van Cliburn’s Cold War Triumph and Its Aftermath” (Knopf).