VSA Tone Award winner Liang Zhiling is the first Chinese luthier to receive this honor in the quartet category. He advocates a "free love" wood selection philosophy—arguing that the pairing of the back plate and top plate is more important than the grain pattern, inspired by repeated observations of master violins in Italian museums. His family began repairing violins in Xiguan, Guangzhou in 1935, and the craft has been passed down through four generations—an extremely rare lineage in China's lutherie industry. After his father's health was compromised by long-term inhalation of toxic varnish, he developed an eco-friendly varnish that has passed EU SGS certification, allowing the wood to breathe and enhance sound projection. He confronts a key industry issue: a Chinese-made violin of the same quality sells for 100,000 yuan, while a high-imitation Italian violin sells for 400,000 to 500,000 yuan—China does not lack craftsmanship, but lacks pricing power and a brand system. Violin Temple is establishing circulation records and soundprint archives for resident luthiers, gradually building a valuation system for Chinese makers. His lutherie creed: "To make a great violin, you need to understand sound—but you don't necessarily have to know how to play."

Violin Temple · People Dreaming of These Violins Even in Sleep VSA Tone Award Winner Liang Zhiling and His Four Generations of Violin Making Liang Zhiling (second from left) signing the agreement to join Violin Temple In 2012, at the judging session of the Violin Society of America (VSA) international competition, a luthier from Guangzhou experienced the most unexpected moment of his life—his quartet piece won the Tone Award. "I couldn't believe it myself," Liang Zhiling recalled. It was the first time a Chinese luthier had won the Tone Award in the VSA quartet category. From 2012 to 2024, he won multiple awards, almost always for tone—not craftsmanship. Craftsmanship is visible; the Tone Award is invisible. "Craftsmanship, appearance, varnish, and setup are all visible from the outside; only tone is invisible. Tone requires deep accumulation and a long-term understanding of sound. If a luthier has reached the level of pursuing tone and can win an award, it shows they have mastered certain principles." — Violinist Hao Li The Philosophy of "Free Love" in Wood Selection Winning the Tone Award is not luck. Liang Zhiling has a unique philosophy for selecting and matching materials— "As soon as someone talks about how beautiful the flame pattern is, I know they don't understand violins," he said. "What really matters is the quality of the wood and how it's matched." He gave an analogy: "It's like marriage—two people forced together aren't necessarily happy. Making a violin is the same. A particular back plate isn't automatically a good match for a particular top plate. You have to find the right pairing through 'free love,' so the 'divorce rate' is lower, and the violin is more harmonious." Beyond competitions, his understanding of sound comes from a deeper source—the master violins in Italian museums. Whenever he travels abroad for exhibitions, while others go sightseeing, he stays in the museums. "For a whole week, I went in as soon as they opened, looking at those Stradivaris and Guarneris, not wanting to leave." He could only observe them through display cases—studying the arching, color, rib thickness, and f-hole shapes. "I dream of these violins even in sleep." A Story Beginning in 1935 In China's violin-making industry, as far as Liang Zhiling knows, there are almost no families that have passed the craft down to the fourth generation. "Maybe two generations exist, but three or four are very rare." The starting point of this lineage was in 1935 in Xiguan, Guangzhou. His maternal grandfather, Mr. Huang Da, founded a violin workshop there. In those days, Xiguan and the Thirteen Hongs area of Guangzhou were concessions, where many British, French, and Americans came for business, bringing violins and guitars. When strings broke or glue came undone, they brought them to Huang Da's workshop for repairs. "My grandfather thought these instruments were good, so he studied them in reverse. It started with repairs—fixing them while observing their shape, measurements, thickness, and then gradually began making them," Liang Zhiling said. "I truly admired them back then—my ancestors seemed to understand just by looking." Hao Li added context about that era: "In the past, China had no complete system for violin making. The violin shapes we saw as kids might have been drawn from newspapers; the f-holes were even made by poking holes with a needle." In 1954, Huang Da's workshop merged with seven others to form Nanlian Musical Instrument Factory—the predecessor of Guangdong Musical Instrument Factory (Kapok brand). Liang Zhiling is the third generation, and his son, Liang Zhenyu, is the fourth. "Because this craft is still hard and demanding, I know many luthiers whose parents still make violins, but their children have mostly switched careers. Passing it down is no easy feat." Liang Zhenyu's entry into the craft wasn't driven by passion from the start. "In middle and high school, I didn't have any particular interests. Later, I followed my father to the factory and started from sharpening knives." He had his doubts along the way, until he gained industry recognition—"Once you feel a sense of achievement in this work, it becomes a positive cycle, and you grow to love it more." "It's not innate passion from the beginning; most of the time, you gradually develop a sense of mission through the work." From left: Violinist Hao Li, Violin Temple's Tian Lifu, Liang Zhiling, Liang Zhenyu "Our Varnish—I'd Even Eat It" Liang Zhiling's eco-friendly varnish has passed the EU SGS certification. The development of this varnish was driven by a painful family memory. "It's related to my father. He used to work in a factory making guitar varnish. Back then, many varnishes had strong odors, containing formaldehyde and toxic fumes. Working during the day and overtime at night, long-term inhalation took a toll on his health. People in that era really suffered." Liang Zhenyu added a technical explanation: "Traditional varnishes contain aldehydes or resin-based substances that, with prolonged inhalation, can affect the nervous system. We developed eco-friendly varnish hoping to use as many natural, plant-based, harmless raw materials as possible." To find suitable natural materials, Liang Zhiling traveled extensively across Hainan, Indonesia, and Malaysia. He mentioned an interesting discovery: some people, using microscopes to examine the varnish on old violins, found "structures that even look like bee legs"—because in that era, the chemical industry was underdeveloped, and many materials came from nature. Stradivari's varnish remains undeciphered to this day for the same reason. "Craftsmanship and structure can be seen and learned, but varnish is extremely difficult. Good varnish helps the sound; bad varnish smothers the wood like a layer of crust. Good varnish penetrates through the pores, allowing the wood to breathe while providing surface protection." — Violinist Hao Li Liang Zhiling's final assessment of his varnish is simple: "When you smell our violins through the f-holes, it's mostly the scent of wood. The sound of the bare wood before varnishing and after varnishing doesn't change much—it even gains more charm and texture." No matter who claims their varnish is good, it must at least be eco-friendly. This is a luthier's obsession inherited from his father, and the baseline he offers to the industry. Between 100,000 and 400,000 RMB Liang Zhiling once made a violin that professionals felt was better than some Italian violins, yet its price was three to four times lower. "Some high-quality imitations of Italian violins sell for 400,000 to 500,000 RMB in Hong Kong, while our violins are around 100,000 RMB. Some professionals think ours are better, but market perception is different. They're Italian; we're Chinese—that's the current problem." This is not an isolated case but a systemic challenge facing China's violin-making industry: craftsmanship is not lacking, but pricing power and voice are. China is one of the world's largest producers and exporters of violins, but most of the time, Chinese luthiers can only price based on costs—materials, labor, taxes, workspace—just enough to survive. Once a violin is labeled with an Italian brand and passes through several intermediaries, its price can multiply several times. "Chinese luthiers should enter the brand era. Famous foreign luthiers have a valuation system—their new violins have clear prices on their official websites or channels, and they appreciate in value. The works of Master Liang and Young Master Liang should also have such a system: original works, signed, meeting a certain standard, forming a clear valuation." — Violinist Hao Li Building a brand era requires infrastructure that China's market currently lacks: a second-hand violin circulation market, records of use by famous musicians, and auction transaction data. "Many foreign luthiers post these records online—which violin was sold to which musician, and after the musician passed away, the family auctioned it for a high price, instantly boosting the luthier's reputation." Violin Temple is attempting to do this—establishing long-term circulation records and sound archives for luthiers on its platform, making every transaction of a violin traceable from production onward. "If every time a violin is traded on the second-hand market, there is a record and announcement, its value will have continuous market documentation," said host Tian Lifu. Making a Good Violin Requires Understanding Sound, But Not Necessarily Playing A long-standing saying in the lutherie circle goes: "If you can't play, you can't make a good violin." Fourth-generation luthier Liang Zhenyu directly refutes this: "People who play may not truly listen to the violin's own sound; they might focus more on their technique, trying to make the violin produce better sound. We do the opposite: first make the violin itself well, so the player can easily produce good sound. The starting point is different." Stradivari and Guarneri—the two greatest luthiers in history—have no clear records showing they could play. But this doesn't mean luthiers and players don't need to communicate. Hao Li, drawing on decades of experience with instruments, said: "I've always played Chinese-made violins, collaborating with Mr. Guan Kaiming for 30 to 40 years. Each time, I tell him: where this violin can be adjusted, whether the response is quick, how the balance is, whether the outer string is too bright, or the inner string too dark. Through years of磨合, the luthier learns what sound the player wants." Liang Zhenyu emphasizes that luthiers themselves must have an independent tonal aesthetic: "First, eliminate subjective factors. A violin needs several elements: first, focus; second, balance; third, no harshness. Harshness means it sounds grating. Achieve these first, then adjust according to the preferences of players and enthusiasts." — Fourth-generation luthier Liang Zhenyu It's not "you must play to make a good violin," but "making a good violin requires understanding sound, and understanding sound doesn't require playing." "When we go to competitions, we also make pre-adjustments based on the local weather. These are all accumulated over years, and they're key to why we almost always win the Tone Award." From 1935 to 2026, nearly a century, four generations, the same craft. In China, this in itself is already a rarity. Perhaps in the near future, Chinese luthiers' violins will no longer need to borrow an Italian surname to prove themselves. Violin Temple · Violin Treasure Hall 640㎡ Professional Acoustic Exhibition Hall · Building 6, Beijing Music Industrial Park Appointment for trial: 19910221529 Interview / Tian Lifu Editor / Sun Yiwei

I dream of these violins even in my sleep.