JEAN TRIBLE, THE COLLECTOR

It was November of 1983 in Paris and a small man of perhaps seventy sat bundled in trenchcoat and scarf on the Metro line Port de Clignancourt. Held securely in his hand like a sheaf of arrows, were a dozen violin bows, each in a wrinkled brown paper sleeve, the bundle secured with rubber bands. Arriving at Metro Simplon he came out into the drizzle of rue Joseph Dijon and at no. 9 he climbed the six flights of stairs to my attic workshop. After he had caught his breath he started removing the envelopes and laying bows out on the bench; ten Eugene Sartory violin bows in perfect condition. One for every five years of Sartory's working life starting in 1895 and ending in 1940. We talked of his visits to Sartory's shop as a teen-ager, Sartory's different bow stamps, Sartory's affiliation with Emile Germain, and of Jules Fetique, Gillet and others who worked for him. We traced the maker's development over the years seen in those ten bows, the long nosed heads of 1895 and the lovely heads of 1905 morphing into the wide and heavy heads of 1930. After discussing some repairs to be done on a Pajeot, he went on his way leaving me the bows for two weeks to study. I had asked him some questions on Sartory's early work some weeks earlier and this was his answer.

Stephane Thomachot and Jean Trible

Jean Trible, or 'Monsieur Trible' as we knew him, a Parisian bow collector and retired violinist in the national symphony, supported and inspired several generations of bow makers. It was Trible who left an incredible Persois at Stephane Thomachot's shop nearby on the Rue de Clignancourt. This bow completely changed our perception of how a frog could be shaped and soon I had radically changed my style on the inspiration of that one bow. And I was not the only one. Then there was his Tourte, 'le chat' with the clear marks of a cat's incisors on each side of the head! Monsieur Trible would show us a bow and get an impish look on his face; it was sure to be a fiendishly obscure maker to identify. But for him, bow making was an ongoing tradition and he commissioned a bow from each of us in the younger generation just as he had from Sartory, Lamy fils, Ouchard, Richaume, Millant and others. He was not without his quirks. He confided that since he hadn't the skills to work on his bows and yet wanting to be involved in their care, he would sit in the evenings and polish the tips of his bow's screws with a bit of emery paper. But his insistence on carrying a sizeable fortune in bows on the Metro without a case, often a number of Peccattes or Tourtes, was probably reasonable. The 18th arrondisement was relatively rough and a nice case might have been tempting to some.

I last saw Jean Trible in 2003 when Stephane Thomachot, Noel Burke and I had lunch with him. He was living in Normandy and with his health failing rarely made the trip to Paris. Two years later he had passed away, the end of an incredible link to the past. Not long ago we had a bow maker's session with Bernard Millant to hear his recollections of his early days in the trade and his apprenticeships in Mirecourt, where he both refined his violinmaking and also learned bow making with the Morizot family. He talked about the difficulties of starting his own violin shop in Paris across the street from his father and uncle, Max and Roger Millant. In those hard economic times shortly after the second world war, Millant was 23 years old and wondering where his direction lay when completely by chance Jean Trible stepped into his shop. Although I knew that the two were friends I was moved to learn that Trible had been a catalyst for Millant's passion for bows as well.

Jean Trible with Noel Burke

EBONY. Beginning the frog.

There are many living things that go into a bow but after the Pernambuco wood, the bowmaker is perhaps most thankful for ebony. This amazing wood grows initially a creamy white in color before turning after some years to a black as dark as coal. So the sapwood or exterior inch or so of the tree trunk is white and the heartwood or interior of the tree is black. Over time the wood’s pores become filled with the minerals from the earth and when the wood is polished these minerals shine in little silvery lines. The polished wood takes a luster like marble.

Ebony wood refers to a number of different species in the genus Diospyros and only a few are suitable for bow-making with a jet-black color and a tight grain. The ebony of legend, Mauritius ebony or Diospyros tesselaria, has not been exported since the 19^th century. In fact it is exceedingly difficult to find ebony suitable for really fine bows. Years ago Stephane Thomachot and I bid for and won a lot of this ebony at the Drouot auctions house in Paris. It was from the estate of André Chardon and the crate, which had been stored in the coal cellar actually contained coal as well, which we dubbed ‘le charbon de Chardon’. Since that time it has been occasionally possible to locate ebony from Ceylon or Madagascar with the required qualities. A bowmaker needs only a very small quantity of ebony but nonetheless the conservation of these trees is of concern as the world’s forests are cleared. Replanting of the trees as we are doing with Pernambuco wood is necessary for the future.

The basic ebony piece that will become a frog is split or sawed from a larger block and worked down with a gouge and a plane. The minerals in ebony will dull a sharp tool in minutes so we have to sharpen often. When the blank is cut out we drill a hole where the ferrule will go and saw out the rough throat. Then we put the piece aside and prepare the silver for the ferrule.