A visit to the art of violin craftsmanship
Last weekend, we stumbled upon a hidden gem in the charming town of Rapperswil: Atelier Michael Rüttimann. My five-year-old daughter is about to start learning to play the violin, and we needed to find one for her. Following the recommendation of her violin teacher, we decided to visit this atelier—and it turned out to be an inspiring experience.
The specialist shop nestled in the heart of old town Rapperswil, located on Engelplatz in the historic art nouveau building Phoenix. Michael Rüttimann, the artisan behind the atelier, has been crafting and restoring violins for over 25 years. As we entered the workshop, we were greeted by the warm aroma of wood and varnish, surrounded by walls adorned with tools of all shapes and sizes—chisels, planes, and clamps, each with a purpose in the intricate process of shaping a violin.
Mr. Rüttimann was kind enough to guide us through his atelier, sharing the magic behind his craft. He explained how each violin begins as a raw piece of wood and transforms into a melodious masterpiece through countless hours of careful carving, shaping, and tuning. My daughter was captivated as he demonstrated the precision required to create a perfect soundboard or adjust the tiniest detail that could affect the violin’s resonance.
Beyond the technicalities, what truly struck us was the passion and the artistry evident in every corner of his workshop. The violins, some newly crafted and others centuries old, gleamed under the soft light. Each instrument seemed to carry a soul, a story etched into its fine wood grains.
For my daughter, this visit wasn’t just about seeing violins; it was an encounter with dedication and craftsmanship. Her eyes sparkled with awe as hearing about the importance of respecting the instrument and the hands that create it. It was a moment that planted a seed of reverence for both music and the artisans who bring it to life.
The experience was a gentle reminder of the beauty of handmade creations in an age of mass production. As we left, my daughter clutched her small violin case a little tighter, and I couldn’t help but feel grateful for this unexpected detour. It wasn’t just a visit to an atelier; it was a lesson in passion, patience, and the timeless allure of music.