Date sent: Thu, 17 Feb 2000 16:09:04 +0000
From: Sandi Harris & Stephen Barber
Organization: Lutemakers
To: DrVladimirIvanoff@compuserve.com, lute@cs.dartmouth.edu
Subject: The lute in Holbein's "Ambassadors" (long)

Dear Dr. Ivanoff, dear lutenetters,

the lute in the Hans Holbein painting The Ambassadors of 1533 has long been the subject of fascination, speculation and intrigue to modern lutemakers, and now that the cleaned and restored painting is once again on show in the National Gallery, it is possible to study closely both the instrument and its accompanying case in considerable detail. The painting - executed on 10 vertically-joined fine-grained oak panels - is now visible behind glass, although the exhibition of 1997-98 at the National Gallery afforded a unique and unprecedented opportunity to closely examine its details, for those fortunate to be able to visit it.

For most of the 20th Century, the painting was obscured by over-varnishing, to which had adhered accumulated grime and muck; the recent restoration, whilst causing controversy and raging debate in the conservation and art history world, has nevertheless allowed us an unobstructed view of the surface of the painting, and to properly consider, evaluate and attempt historical attributution of the objects depicted - many of which were effectively obscured from study by experts and other interested parties - in probably as close to its original state as current techniques and research allow. The restoration team assure us that the colours we see now are pretty much as Holbein's brushes drew them.

A highly-recommended book, "Making and Meaning - Holbein's Ambassadors" by Susan Foister, Ashok Roy and Martin Wyld, published by National Gallery Publications (and distributed by Yale University Press) and available from the Gallery and other outlets, describes the painting and its restoration in considerable detail, for those interested in this superb and important work.
Its ISBN number is: 1-85709-173-6.

The lute itself, seen in foreshortening and viewed from the pegbox end, is laying on its back on the lower of two shelves, in the lower centre of the painting, soundboard uppermost. It is a 6-course instrument which, judging from the size of the two figures and the other objects, would appear to be about the size of a g' or f'-sharp lute of, say, between 590-640mm. It is, of course, impossible to be precise about this, since the exact height of the two men - Georges de Selve (bishop of Lavaur) and Jean de Dinteville (French ambassador to the court of Henry VIII) is not known.. It is set up with 11 pegs, with the first course single, and the lower courses 4-6 clearly with octave stringing (the octave string of the 4th course is broken, and lies undulating across the belly).

It is very blond (maple ?) in appearance, its 13-rib back appears to be from a wood of similar grain to birds-eye maple, probably lightly varnished or oiled; the colouring of the neck, fingerboard, pegbox, nut and back are very close in hue and tone, although the back is a little lighter. The neck, which has a deep, 'parabola' section similar to that found on the only two surviving six-course lutes with their original necks intact (by Georg Gerle of Innsbruck and Magno dieffopruchar of Venice respectively, both working later in the 16th Century than the 1533 date of the painting) seems to be constructed in one piece with the fingerboard. The shape of the pegs is very interesting, in that it recalls the hilt design of what are usually referred to as "bollock daggers" (in armour collections such as the Tower of London and Schloss Ambras, Innsbruck, for example). Unfortunately for the modern lutemaker, the rose design is not fully recognisable, although it appears to be a version of the 'Tieffenbrucker knot', and the bridge design is similarly not easy to be absolutely sure about. The deep fluting of the ribs - an effect caused by the shrinkage of parchment over a (relatively-short) period of time is very accurately rendered, with the outer rib (bass side only visible) wider than the inner ones, as one would expect. There are 8 tied frets, relatively thin, in what appears to be a double-fret arrangement (ie each fret passes twice around the neck) and no soundboard frets on what looks like a very clean belly. The pegbox, of a very practical design, is provided with plenty of room to tie the strings; Stephen drew this design on the 6-course lute drawn for the Lute Society in 1982 as a possible pegbox design.

The strings are also tantalising, in that they actually look like they were supplied by a modern string-maker ! They certainly look more like the diamaters of Kurschner, Pyramid or Savarez overspun strings on the basses of courses 4-6, rather than the thick roped basses which most modern gut-string makers offer (with the exception of so-called 'loaded' strings) and without stepping into the debate over exactly what these strings were, this painting is certainly food for thought, and casts doubt on the experiments on making 'roped' and 'catline' basses conducted in the early part of the modern lute-revival.

Although the lute has always been prominently visible in the painting, the case, on the other hand, has been largely obscured until the recent cleaning; it was always known that the case was there (laying face-down, closed, under and behind the table, and obscured by one of its legs and Jean de Dinteville's left leg) and it seemed to be similar to other lute-cases seen in contemporary paintings, but the cleaning has revealed more information.

The case, of compact design, has a ribbed-construction, and appears to be either covered by some black material or painted black; it is hinged at slightly lower than the widest point, across the body (these cases generally were hinged at the widest point or just below). The lid seems to slightly overlap the body of the case - perhaps an attempt at introducing some weatherproofing into its design.

This design of lute case continued well into the 18th Century, and we were fortunate to be able to examine and conserve an actual example a few years ago; it was a theorbo case, made of limewood and pine, painted black, and lined inside with combed, marbled papers of marvellous colours and hues; a friend who is a paper conservator (and works at the National Gallery) actually had samples of the same papers, which dated from c.1760, so we were able to use a little piece in the conservation of the case. The case and instrument - a Magno dieffopruchar - were from a private collection in Italy.

A sobering thought for modern players, and pertinent to the recent postings on lute-cases, is that this case had no soft linings, was quite heavy, and did not seem to us to have been particularly strong, although well and neatly-constructed.

Many of the objects depicted in The Ambassadors have apparently survived, or virtually identical examples have (celestial globe, quadrant, torquetum, dividers, set-square and other scientific instruments) and some have in the past been rumoured to be in private or Royal collections, although so far no convincing Holbein lute has surfaced. As far as finding a surviving example of a Holbein-like lute among the various 16th Century lutes in museums and private collections today, there is nothing which survives with a neck, pegbox, pegs and fingerboard like this one - the Gerle and deiffopruchar lutes referred to above have their necks veneered with ivory. Until somebody is able to produce a convincing computer-generated rationalised outline of it from the painting (we asked the National Gallery years ago, they declined - any offers, anybody ?) we will not be sure about the actual plantila shape of the soundboard outline, although it seems to be a 'rounded' Gerle-like shape rather than an elongated 'pearl' shape like a Frei or Maler. The beautifully painted neck and pegbox details allow the modern lutemaker to work closely from them when building 'plain' 6-course lutes, although most modern pegmakers have baulked at the idea of carving the "bollock-pegs".

In the collection of the Vienna Kunsthistorisches Museum (C.29, formerly C.33) there is a lute bearing a Hans Frei label, which we have closely examined and photographed, which appears to be made from a very similar wood to that used for the back of the Holbein lute, but with 9 ribs, not 13; this wood is probably birds-eye maple, which is just about possible for Frei's probable dates, since it is a timber which does not occur in Europe, and was always imported from the eastern seaboard of North America. This Frei is the earliest known example we are aware of which uses this wood, although of course, since even Frei's dates have never been conclusively proven, its exact provenance must be approached with caution.

There is, however, an example of a timber which is definitely European in origin, used as the keys for a regal (organ) in private hands in the UK, which displays a birds-eye like grain in a timber which has been identified as a maple species. However, it looks 'warty' rather than displaying the 'eye' formation seen in true birds-eye; these 'warts' are harder than the surrounding timber, and stand above it after long playing. The instrument is dated to the mid-15th Century, so the timber is probably of European origin (or central Asian) and being pre-Columbian, cannot be from North America. The general appearance of the grain of this keyboard resembles closely what Holbein has painted as the back of the lute in The Ambassadors; we have encountered this timber rarely over the last 25 years, and it seems to occur occasionally in hedgerow maples, growing under difficult conditions, and not evenly distributed throughout the timber, as is the case with 'Hungarian' ash.

So, has Holbein painted a timber that is tantalisingly-rare and virtually unobtainable today ? Does the lute itself exist somewhere ? It is certainly one of the most beautifully-drawn, accurately-observed paintings of a 6-course lute that we have to refer to, and exactly what one would expect to see on a 'plain' instrument, following the evidence of the ivory Gerle and dieffopruchar; and everything, including strings, in all probability was painted by Hans Holbein exactly as he saw them - after all, the other objects in the painting are perfectly represented, why not the lute and its fittings ?

This question about Holbein's lute has arisen at an interesting time for us, since we have been working on drawings for a realisation of this lute over the winter, and have just looked again at the Vienna Frei C29.

We hope that this goes some way to answering the questions about the lute and its case.

Best Wishes, Stephen Barber & Sandi Harris, lutemakers.