Sunday, March 25, 2007

By JIM BECKERMAN
STAFF WRITER, North Jersey Media Group (The Record)

Violins and intrigue don't often go together, outside the pages of Sherlock Holmes.

Yet even the great detective – and famed violin lover – might have been stumped by the mystery that's unfolded over four years at the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra.

The mystery: How did the much-touted purchase of 30 "golden age" string instruments for $17 million in 2003 turn from a publicist's dream into a public relations nightmare that has come close to sinking the orchestra?

And the mystery behind the mystery: Why are certain instruments – Stradivarius, yes, but also Amati, Guarneri del Gesu and others – considered so extraordinary that one of the nation's outstanding orchestras would drive itself to the brink of bankruptcy to own them?

This month the orchestra, now $16 million in debt – $12 million of that tied up with the instruments – announced it was looking to sell the instrument collection, including 12 violins and one cello by Stradivari.

"It was a very difficult decision to make," says symphony spokeswoman Dee Billia. "But we had to place the stability and future of the orchestra above hanging on to these incredible instruments."

The case, dramatic in itself, also has shed some light into the strange sub-world of high-end instrument dealing, where appraisals are not always to be taken at face value, and worth – not to mention beauty – are often in the eye and ear of the beholder.

"In the high-end violin world, there's as much mojo involved as anything else," says Jim Krazit, a Woodcliff Lake luthier, or violin restorer. "If someone says this is the most wonderful instrument ... who are you to say it's not?"

The NJSO case is far from elementary, as Holmes might say. But it's certainly instructive.

The 30 instruments, appraised at $48.9 million by representatives of Monmouth County philanthropist Herbert Axelrod, were supposed to be an incredible bargain at $17 million – one that would pay for itself many times over by boosting subscriptions, giving the NJSO a worldwide reputation,and attracting a top-flight conductor.

This last, at least, did happen – Neeme Jarvi, an internationally known conductor, came to the symphony in 2005, partly on the strength of the fabulous instruments (it's an open question whether he will renew his three-year contract when it expires next year).

Fearful of losing a bargain, the orchestra bought the instruments from Axelrod in February 2003 – though three of its own independent appraisers put their worth at between $15 million and $26 million. Publicly, NJSO officials continued to refer to the collection as being valued at $50 million.

Seller went to prison

Things began to unravel in 2004 when independent experts questioned the value of the collection – in particular because of five instruments that have proven to be of doubtful authenticity. They became even murkier when seller Axelrod made unwelcome news, by serving prison time for tax fraud on unrelated charges. Federal investigators began to look into the NJSO deal.

In light of this, the orchestra did an internal investigation and determined the instruments were worth $18 million – close to the $17 million they cost.

Technically, you could say, the symphony wasn't ripped off.

But it's an open question whether NJSO would have rushed to buy the collection at all – if Axelrod hadn't inflated the value of his instruments, apparently for tax-relief purposes. Say this: If the New Jersey Symphony was looking for publicity, it got it.

"There are certainly precedents for instruments being disputed for authenticity and value," says Michael Avagliano, a Metuchen instrument restorer and dealer. "But not usually on this scale, and so publicly."

Sold on the sound

Perhaps the real key to the story is the magic of the names: Antonio Stradivari, Guarneri del Gesu. Why are certain stringed instruments, made by a handful of Italian craftsmen 350 years ago, thought to be so extraordinary that an orchestra would gamble its future on them?

Certainly, no one at NJSO has questioned the worth of the "golden age instruments" as instruments.

"It's a very warm, focused sound," then-symphony President Larry Tamburri told The Record in 2003. "The orchestra sounds really good without the instruments, but this is adding another layer of quality."

Tamburri called the effect of the upgrade like "driving a low-priced car and then getting into a BMW."

But there are also a handful of skeptics who snort at the idea of a "Stradivarius sound." Emperor's new clothes, they say.

"It's imagination. Psychological trickery," says Fritz Reuter, a Chicago instrument maker, dealer and appraiser whose family has been in the business since 1922.

In the rarefied, high-end world of violin sales and appraisal, Reuter is a bit of a maverick. He even has Web sites devoted to what he calls the "great violin hoax." (Reuters' Focus Report)

Overvalued instrument?

In Reuter's unorthodox opinion, the Stradivarius and other such instruments are a kind of a musical Maltese Falcon, more mystique than reality, "the stuff that dreams are made of." Like the craze for tulips in 17th-century Holland, it's a speculative bubble – fostered, he believes, by unscrupulous dealers for their own purposes.

"The dealers and soloists are interested in pricing these instruments as high as possible," Reuter says.

It simply runs counter to logic, Reuter asserts, to imagine that a 300-year-old violin would sound better than a well-made modern instrument.

"A new car runs better than an old car, doesn't it?" he says. "Nothing in the universe improves with age. Entropy affects all creation."

He likes to quote a story about the great violinist Jascha Heifetz. "A lady said he had a great-sounding instrument," Reuter says. "He lifted the violin out of the case and said, 'Do you hear anything?'

"It's not the violin. It's the player."

Most experts, while not going that far, would admit that the value of the Stradivarius is more than a little subjective.

"Most players on a professional level can tell the difference between a good instrument and a great instrument, but there's not an absolute consensus," Krazit says.

There are no absolutes

So what is it that seasoned ears detect in the sound of a Stradivarius? Why are the violins made by Stradivari (1644-1737) and a handful of other "Cremonese" masters – all centered on 16th-, 17th- and 18th-century Cremona, Italy – widely considered better than all others?

Enthusiasts cite the craftsmanship, the method of aging the wood, the glue. They cite the materials: spruce, willow, maple. There are urban legends: The wood came from a cathedral, or owed its peculiar density to being grown during "the little ice age."

"Explaining sound quality is a difficult thing to do," Avagliano says. "The best analogy is that the great instruments will more closely approximate the subtlety of the human voice."

But the market price for rare instruments is affected by other things as well: authenticity, condition, "provenance." That is, which famous fiddler may have, at some time or other, scratched out a tune on it.

"Collectors in many cases don't care what the instrument sounds like," Avagliano says. "They want to know who owned it."

An antique instrument, in other words, pretty much has no absolute value.

So who's to say that, in the end, NJSO didn't get its money's worth?

"In a sense, they got what they were looking for, which is a lot of notoriety," Avagliano says. "I don't know if it was worth the price they paid."

E-mail: beckerman@northjersey.com

Copyright 2007 North Jersey Media Group Inc.