A Due
By Robert Beck
On the few occasions that I have held a professional violin in my hands, I have been awed by the integrity of the instrument. It feels impossibly strong and light. Something of that size, complexity, and durability can’t weigh just a pound. I’ve eaten almond croissants that were heavier. You can feel the purpose, the energy. It is designed to resonate, and it responds to the air in the room, to the pulse in your hands. Touch it, and it speaks. Caress the strings, and it will sing.
I painted Bill and Molly in the living room of the fourth-floor walkup where they have lived for 44 years. Bill Hampton, who is 81, makes stringed instruments. That’s one of his gorgeous violins in his lap. Bill began his career as a young man in Kentucky playing music and making banjos and dulcimers, and now he has instruments in museum collections, including the MET.
The elegantly domed wood top and back of the violin are not bent into shape; they are carefully carved out of solid pieces. The outside is sloped to the edge, and the inside is scooped out to varying thicknesses in different locations—some just 3/32”—using a plane that fits the tip of the maker’s finger. There is a post inside, under the high-pitched end of the bridge, held between the front and the back by pressure from the strings. The bass end of the bridge doesn’t have a post, just a rib glued long-ways along the underside of the front. When the bridge transfers the vibration from the strings, its motion is a pivot from the end over the post. Those vibrations resonate throughout the body, moving the air and creating the instrument’s unique voice. Measurements are critical. Craftmanship is extreme. There is a lot going on that makes a good violin good.
Molly Heron is an artist, working in two and three-dimension. She has done a painting a day for years. She also is a photographer and Yoga instructor. She carried my French easel up the stairs, which I greatly appreciated.
There are many stories. The fine musical instrument maker and his path from Appalachia to the Big Apple. The artist and teacher, and the path that took her through Kentucky. Their four decades in an Upper West Side apartment. My paintings describe what I see and learn in my encounters, and this is as it was: a lovely afternoon with extraordinary people.
When I was done painting, we talked about art and music for another hour. Then Molly carried my easel back down the four flights for me.
For more information, search mollyheron.com and hamptonstringedinstruments.com You can get in touch with Robert Beck at robertbeck.net
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I like how you captured the light coming into their apartment. And so lovely they continue to have each other and their art and that 4th floor walkup, too!
The story and the painting are both wonderful! Bill and Molly are both artists to their core. Very special, very talented people. Thank you for highlighting them!
Lovely, simply lovely
Every time the WSR has an article about and photo of your work, I am enthralled. Hope they continue regularly! Thank you!
Molly and Bill are two wonderful souls. The classical fairy tale of love and happiness with a city girl meets a country boy and the rest is history. Sorry my writing ✍️ skills isn’t what you would call the poem of the century lol. Molly & Bill are my family far far away and I cherish their friendship, and the fond memories of the times past. Love you both and wish you all the happiness in this world 🌎.
The HillBilly
Lovely homage to thee folks, and thanks for the explanation of how a violin is made and “works.”
The painting above captures a little of the old UWS spirit – natural light, a victorian room with modern people in it, art and music (not to mention carrying equipment up four flights of stairs).
Mr. Beck’s paintings and stories are something special.