A multifaceted figure in the landscape of contemporary violin making, Alberto Giordano combines artisanal mastery with profound historical and artistic culture. Trained at the International School of Violin Making in Cremona under the guidance of masters such as Bissolotti, Zambelli, and Conia, he later enriched his path through international experiences and studies in Cultural Heritage Conservation and Art History, eventually becoming the Conservator of one of the world’s most renowned instruments — the Guarneri del Gesù “Il Cannone” (1743), once owned by Niccolò Paganini.
His vision of violin making arises from the encounter between practice, research, and aesthetic reflection: an approach that regards the instrument as a living object — a witness to the past, yet capable of speaking to the present.

Your first contact with the practice of violin making dates back to your years of study at the International School of Violin Making in Cremona, under the guidance of masters Bissolotti, Zambelli, and Stefano Conia. What do you still carry with you from those years?
Wonderful memories: I arrived in Cremona at the School of Violin Making after finishing high school in September 1980, without ever having held a plane in my hands; I struggled to learn this craft. I still remember the enthusiasm and dedication of Vincenzo Bissolotti, who I believe was in his first year of teaching; from my teacher Wanna Zambelli, I recall her gentle and calm nature, and I am still grateful for the patience she showed me. From Stefano Conia I absorbed enthusiasm and vitality; we still meet from time to time, and there is always a strong bond — a deep connection that has endured over time. A special thought also goes to Maestro Gio Batta Morassi, who, although I was not his direct pupil, encouraged me greatly after school and always believed in me.

How did your experience with Joseph Curtin and Greg Alf — two of the foremost contemporary violin makers — influence your way of practicing and thinking about lutherie?
It was an unforgettable experience. In the house-workshop on Via Bella Rocca we worked, studied, often shared meals; we played music together. Whether building new instruments or examining old ones, there was always a profoundly reflective attitude toward violin making: everything was analyzed with care, seeking to understand not only the technical but also the aesthetic aspects — we asked ourselves where the beauty of an instrument resided, and we questioned the personality of its maker.

Later, your education combined two worlds that might appear distant yet are deeply connected: artisanal practice and historical and cultural research. How has this path — from the International School of Violin Making in Cremona to your degrees in Cultural Heritage Conservation and Art History — helped shape your vision of violin making?
For various reasons, at a certain point in my life I felt the need to deepen my study of conservation and art history, so I enrolled at the Faculty of Arts and Philosophy. Those studies profoundly influenced my approach to writing and research, allowing me to broaden my perspectives and establish connections. My passion for history, philosophy, and literature intertwined with my craft and helped me to better understand the context in which violin making fits within the history of art and Italian society.

Your experience as Conservator of the Guarneri del Gesù once owned by Niccolò Paganini — one of the most celebrated instruments in the world — what has it left you with, on a human and professional level?
Above all, a sense of responsibility toward civic memory, toward an artwork of such value. Professionally, it has taught me to approach even the simplest tasks with greater focus and care; I have learned to understand the slowness of time that lives within a museum instrument, and to measure every gesture so as not to disturb its slow, natural rhythm.

When observing the instruments from Giuseppe Guarneri del Gesù’s later period, one has the impression that they were sometimes altered even after completion. Do you think this is a plausible hypothesis? In your opinion, what was the maker seeking to express or achieve through these modifications?
I believe so. In his late instruments — for instance, the 1744 violin played by Maestro Ughi — one can notice how the upper part of the f-holes is poorly connected to the arching, as if they had been altered later: one senses a subsequent intervention, difficult to interpret. Although not demonstrable, I think Guarneri was a musician, a violinist, who would play and test his violins once they were in the white, making small adjustments to the body, the f-holes, and perhaps even the channeling.

In a splendid lecture you once gave, you explained how Stradivari created his style — what we would today call “classical” — by placing the functionality of the instrument at the center of his design, while drawing inspiration for decoration from classical Roman painting. How would you define Stradivari’s vision today, in relation to his contemporaries?
What fascinates me about Stradivari is his lifelong capacity for innovation — throughout an extraordinarily long career he remained fully immersed in his own time, sensitive to the needs of the musicians around him and to the evolving music of his age. Think, for example, of the cello, which he completely redefined with a design that was both personal and purposeful. From a decorative point of view, the late Baroque style does not seem to have appealed to him. Unlike Andrea Amati, whose decorations are well integrated into the context of contemporary Lombard painting, Antonio Stradivari reveals an antiquarian taste: he drew inspiration from the “grotesque” decorations of Nero’s Domus Aurea, which had influenced 16th-century Italian art from Raphael to Giulio Romano and which he could see reproduced in the palaces of Cremona. Stradivari’s decoration is an art of drawing rather than of painting: the scrolls and ornaments are elegant and concise, never merely ornamental.

Guarneri del Gesù, who looked toward a violin-making past that in his time could be considered “classical” — how would you describe him? A nostalgic rebel? A somewhat naïve neoclassicist?
In the first phase of his career, Guarneri del Gesù was inspired by Stradivari: his work represents a graceful yet decisive modernization of the Cremonese tradition, clearly revealing his individuality and his thought. Over time, this classical attitude gave way to a distinctly expressionist character. The scrolls of his later instruments show how any aesthetic or descriptive intent was abandoned: unlike Stradivari, who carved in his volutes the perfect spiral of the Ionic capital, Guarneri expressed himself directly, unconcerned with formal perfection. The carving of his later heads is raw, at times almost caricatural, finished with darkened chamfers in ink over a brilliant orange varnish. His clients probably delighted in this eccentricity, which to us appears so strikingly transgressive.

In contemporary violin making, how do innovation and tradition intertwine?
The development in recent years of various diagnostic techniques has greatly expanded our understanding of the violin’s functional capacities and structure, with a significant impact on modern lutherie. Historical instruments have become the foundation for structural and functional studies and are today the principal reference for every violin maker. Perhaps too much so: instruments are often built upon very few models, despite the vast repertoire available. Just as with Stradivari — we see endless repetitions of the “Messiah” and the “Cremonese”, while models from other periods are only rarely explored.

This year’s winner of the Paganini Competition, Aozhe Zhang, performed on an excellent contemporary instrument (Piero Virdis, 2019) and won while competing against classical violins. What are your thoughts on this?
What happened in Genoa, with the victory of the seventeen-year-old violinist from Shanghai, is in my opinion a wonderful sign for contemporary violin making. A young man leaving the conservatory with his beautiful new violin — bright orange, glossy — steps onto the Paganini Competition stage and wins, playing an instrument built in 2019. It is a powerful message: it proves that a contemporary instrument, affordable when compared with antique ones, can compete — and win — at the highest international level, even against instruments of great historical value. It is also, I believe, a liberating message for many young musicians who often feel at a disadvantage because they do not own antique instruments and fear being judged for it.

How do you see the future of Italian violin making? What advice would you give to the new generations of Italian luthiers?
The future depends on our ability to interpret tradition without turning it into a cage. We must interpret, not imitate; we must cultivate personality and ideas. On a practical level, I suggest abandoning pre-fabricated materials and instead making one’s own purfling and fittings, so that each instrument bears a personal, recognizable signature.
Further advice? Take advantage of the opportunities we have today to study instruments — not only the classical ones, but also those from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, which are rich in content, ideas, and style.
Today we look at too many photographs and rely excessively on photographic models, with the result that instruments lose spontaneity, becoming rigid and dominated by the graphic image rather than sculptural reality. The problem is precisely this: the reference is no longer the object itself, but its photographic representation. Thus, the violin ends up resembling not so much the original it seeks to evoke, but a diminished or even serial version of it. To observe, to study, and above all to touch with one’s own hands — that is the key to building living, authentic instruments, capable of speaking to the present while remaining rooted in our history.

In the photographs:

• Presentation of the J.B. Vuillaume violin “ex Paganini–Sivori” to violinist Teo Gertler, October 2025

• On the jury of the 5th China International Violin Making and Bow Making Competition, May 2024

• At the workbench

• At the ALI stand for “La Folle Journée” in Tokyo, May 2025

• Presentation of the “Cannone” to the winner of the 2025 Paganini Prize, Aozhe Zhang, on the stage of Teatro Carlo Felice

• With the “Cannone” and violinist Simon Zhu in conversation with King Charles II, October 2024