Nov. 27, 2024

Listen up! A Violin Lesson With Strings Attached

Listen up! A Violin Lesson With Strings Attached

Inheriting a violin is wonderful. But what if it comes with instructions that it must be played? And you resorted to violence as a kid to get out of playing?  Then what?

If you’re lucky enough to inherit something from someone you really love, that’s usually a good thing.  But everyone once in a while, it’s not so simple.

What happens when you inherit something that was loved by the person who gave it – but maybe you don’t feel quite the same way about it? 

That’s the puzzle we try to solve as we consider the fate of two violins I inherited a few years ago from my father.  One of them came with a heartfelt note he wrote, asking for it to be played daily and kept in the family forever.

That’s a tall order.  Especially for me, considering that I studied the violin for 10 years as a child to please my father.  And secretly committed acts of violence to try to get out of it.

And then there's my father who loved playing the violin so much that he played for hours every day during his final years.  Here's a video of him playing a composition that he concocted out of the Masterpiece Theater theme, a Jewish prayer, and a few other sources.  If his technique is not as refined as it was in his younger years, maybe you'll give him some slack. He was 96 years old, almost 97, when I recorded this performance.

To determine what to do with my father’s violins, I needed expert help.  So I consulted Diane Mellon, the manager of David Segal Violins, a wondrous stringed instrument purveyor in New York City. Not only has that shop serviced several genuine Stradivarius violins, but they also have provided violin consulting for top performers like Midori, Joshua Bell and Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg.  

To get a different perspective, Sally and I also consulted Rachel Kuklinski, a cousin of mine who, like me, was persuaded to play the violin as a child.  But she rebelled much more openly than I did.

Why is music so important to some families? And why the violin?  Can anyone learn to make beautiful music?  And what should I do with my father’s violins – along with stacks of sheet music and other mementos of musical events?

If you played an instrument as a child, the conclusions we reach just might be helpful to you too.  Listen and find out. 

Online-only Extras:

1. Want to see the fictional play that was inspired by these real-life experiences? (It's only 30 minutes.) Watch it here.

2. To honor my father on the anniversary of his death, I played a prayer taught to me by my brilliant violin teacher Craig Judelman.  The violin I played is the same one my father was playing above.  His parents gave him the violin, which was made in Boston, in the 1930s and he played up right up until his was 96 years old.

3. The local newspaper The Tri-Town Transcript caught us playing together sometime in the early 1970s.  Chances are, one of us was enjoying it more than the other.

4. Before my senior recital, my dad attached this tag to my violin case. Even he knew that calling me Jascha (a reference to Jascha Heifetz, one of the greatest violinists of all time) was a ridiculous stretch.

5. Here's my rating card from the judge for the Massachusetts Eastern District Orchestra.  The fine print at the bottom confirmed my problem with intonation, which my father dutifully pointed out when I played.

6. And here's my father's book of scale exercises from the 1930s, with a note from his teacher in the upper corner.

7. When I checked my boxes yesterday, I discovered that I also inherited the photo of my father's big sister Edith, who played the piano beautifully and gave him the Franken-violin.  He always hung this picture right over his desk so he could stare up at it. In the bottom right corner, she wrote "Remember me like this always. Love, Edith"  My father lived up to that request, and now the rest of us can too.

I could throw out these items and the world would never know.  But hmmm... maybe I'll hang onto them just a little longer.

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Transcript

I Couldn't Throw It Out, Season 2, Episode 28
Listen up! A Violin Lesson With Strings Attached


Michael Small:
On this episode of I Couldn't Throw It Out, I want to start by sharing the sound of a treasure that I inherited from my father.

[Excerpt from Sibelius Violin Concerto]

Michael Small:
Now if you think that's me playing the violin, dream on! That's a young virtuoso named Amelia Bailey. And if you wonder why she's playing my violin, and why that violin might lead me to disobey one of my father's strongest wishes and make an extremely difficult decision, keep listening.

[Song excerpt begins]

I couldn't throw it out
I had to scream and shout
Before I turned to dust I've got to throw it out

[Song excerpt ends]


Michael Small:
Hello, Sally Libby.

S/
Hello, Michael Small.

M/
Today we're going to take on the very difficult task of deciding the fate of two special objects. And I'm going to give you a hint right now what they are. OK, you ready?

S/
Ready

M/
Here we go.

[Sound of violin strings]

S/
Violins!



M/
Yes, this is an episode about violins.

S/
Which is much better than an episode about... violence!

M/
Actually, there might be some of that too. These violins are in perfect shape now, but when my aunt gave one of these violins to my father, the neck was broken off. Which can only mean one thing. Somebody smashed it. Probably one of our relatives. And that doesn't happen unless someone is really mad.

S/
So I think you're telling me that it wasn't a smashing success.

M/
Yes?

S/
It was a success at smashing.

M/
Sally, get a hold of yourself. Or I might get violent too. And by the way, that can happen when I'm around violins. Because this isn't the only smashed violin in our family history.

S/
What?

M/
When I was playing the violin as a kid, two other violins got smashed. And I am the one who smashed both of them. On purpose. And then I made it look like an accident.

S/
Why did you do that?

M/
We'll get to that. But first, I want you to know that these violins bring back good memories too. Like, imagine my dad as a gangly kid in the 1930s when his parents gave him one of these violins. And then, think 80 years later, he played that same violin for me just a few weeks before his 97th birthday.

S/
When he was 96? That's amazing!

M/
Yes, and in 2020, one of the last things he heard before he died was the violin. And it was played by me, the violin smasher.

S/
You were reformed in your older years.

M/
Sort of, but one thing I have not reformed is my addiction to saving things. I inherited both of these violins when my father died, along with many other things I saved that relate to the violin. And now, of course, I have to decide what to do with them.

S/
Knowing you as I do, I can tell that's not going to be easy.

M/
Definitely not. Deciding what to do with these things is maybe one of the most difficult challenges of my life. Because these violins... They raise so many emotional questions for me, like, why do people like my father and me play the violin? Because even after working at it for years and years, most people, including us, could never play the great violin concertos and make them sound beautiful. So how do you decide when it's time to give up?

S/
Good question.

M/
And even more important than that, what do you do when you inherit something from someone that was really important to them. I mean, really important, but maybe has a different importance for you.

S/
That's a tough one.

M/
We're going to start with some questions about this first violin. Like, who smashed this violin?

S/
And why did your aunt give your father a broken violin?

M/
Well, that's also a good question. So it's lucky that we have a special guest here to help answer those questions. She is the daughter of my aunt who gave my father this violin. Plus, she and I share a common experience. We both played the violin to please our parents, and we're not quite sure why. Introducing my cousin, Rachel Kuklinski.
R/
Hello, Sally and Michael.

S/
Hi, Rachel. So glad you're here with us.

R/
I'm glad to be here with you.

M/
So Rachel, before we get to the treasure that you're going to help us understand, I hear that you also are someone who saves things.

R/
Yes. All sorts of things, from rocks to paperwork. In fact, if somebody asked me to find a certificate or something from, I don't know, my teenage years, my kids' teenage years, I have so many of them that I would not be able to find them because there's just too damn many.

S/
But they're all organized?

R/
No, not anymore. They're all over my floor because I was trying to go through them.

M/
Do you have plans for what you would do with this stuff? What would you like to have happen?

R/
What I'd like to have happen is that I throw most of it away because I started this and probably before COVID, but certainly during COVID, I was going to get everything, this, that, and the other thing, and make practical decisions about all of them. When I showed my kids the dishes that I had from Nana's, they don't want anything to do with it. We don't need those things. Not of any value. And I'm like, yeah, but it's our family. I remember this. I remember Nana's chicken soup. Yeah, mom, you never made chicken soup. We were lucky if it was microwaved.

S/
You've got to save the microwave then.

R/
I knew that I'd come to solutions if I did this with you guys.

M/
Well, so I think that this makes you extremely qualified to join us today to discuss this piece of paper that I found in my boxes in the attic. The text on this page was by your uncle, which is my father, David Small, and it involves your mother, Edith Meyerson, who was his older sister. I'm going to start by reading you what was on this piece of paper. Here we go.

(Reading) Codicil, in my own hand. This is a codicil to my last will and testament that is dated and signed on November 20th, 1997. Music has always been a central part of my life. I was born with considerable musical feeling and sensitivity, but very little talent to go with it.

Now here's an aside: that is also a description of his son, me.

He goes on: To be completely honest, I never really applied myself to develop whatever talent I did have.

And a little aside: that does not apply to me. I applied myself and I still did not get good.

He continues: My hope has long been that someone in the generations that follow me would acquire my musical feeling and would pursue it to a much higher level than I ever did. In particular, I hope some descendant appreciates my special love of the classical violin and will make that instrument a serious study. As an incentive, I offer the old Italian-made violin given to me by my beloved sister Edith many years ago. It carries considerable sentimental significance for me. It is really my only true heirloom, and I would wish that it be so treated. Only as a last resort, when the money is desperately needed, should it ever be sold. Rather, I hope that some family member will give it the care that it deserves, seriously study music, and master violin technique well enough to bring out its potentially beautiful sound far more than my own meager efforts were ever able to accomplish.

And I want to pause for another minute and say: That is a big request. Asking someone to master the violin is asking them to dedicate their life.

But I will go on. This is near the end: A fine instrument like this must be played constantly to keep it healthy. I request that my heirs don't allow it to sit around in an attic somewhere gathering dust. This is the only material thing I love and really prize. Please. Care for it well and pass it down through the generations. David R. Small.

S/
Well, he was eloquent, that's for sure.

M/
I want to add that my father was a very gentle person.

R/
Absolutely.

M/
From the standpoint of his children, we really loved him and we still do, even though he's not with us anymore. He had a special kindness to him. And yet he had some blind spots, involving this violin and violin music in general. And I just want to ask, Rachel, you didn't see my father very much. Honestly, just tell the truth. Did you have any impression of him?

R/
I did. I loved him very much. Your father seemed to understand me. He didn't judge me. He was never harsh.

S/
Did Edith play the violin?

R/
No, she was a pianist and very gifted.

M/
Yes. And that is...the thing, which is that David was not gifted like his sister. I will also, I guess, throw in here, Edith was very beautiful, very beautiful.

R/
Yes.

M/
And very elegant in her manner. And she was extremely cultured. And my father kept a large photo of Edith over his desk his entire adult life.

S/
Did you sense any competition between them?

R/
I'm going to answer with -- my mother competed with everybody.

S/
OK.

M/
One thing our parents had in common was that my father insisted that I play the violin despite the fact that I didn't have great talent. And your mother insisted that you play the violin. One farther step back, our parents were the children of Russian immigrants who came to this country with nothing and worked their way up. Can you explain why both our parents and our Uncle Marty were all putting so much value on music and performance?

R/
I kind of attributed it to the Jewish culture.

S/
It transcended survival skills. It was something that they could throw their passion into that was above it all. Something beautiful.

R/
Yeah, and that in some ways couldn't be taken away.

S/
Exactly.

M/
Music requires leisure. If you are children who are having to earn money the way our grandfather did, you don't have the leisure to make music. I wonder whether music, particularly classical music, that it was a way to not be affiliated with the streets that he came from and to move into society. It's sort of a class thing to be able to hang around and have all your kids making classical music all day.

R/
Absolutely, and also giving to them something you couldn't have yourself growing up.

M/
Ooh, made some progress today. But I think there's one element we left out. My father really loved music. He loved listening to the violin. In his last years in the nursing home, he'd play for hours every day. He actually made up this medley that was a combination of a Broadway show tune, a classical piece, and a Jewish prayer. His brain put those songs together and he'd play it the same way every time we visited.

S/
My father loved classical music too. He'd play the opera on the radio every weekend and he and my mother really enjoyed it.

M/
I think for them it's sort of balanced out maybe some of the ugliness of life. Your father, my father, they both went to work every day where things could be very frustrating. And maybe music was some kind of escape. Or a reminder that there are beautiful things in the world.

R/
Yeah. Yeah. I think that's it.

S/
I have a story about my dad and his father and a French horn. My father's father was like a big deal farmer in his community in Maryland, and dad would help him out in the fields. And one day a dad was required to be at school to rehearse for, I think it was Carmen? And he had played the French horn and he had to go. His dad was so upset because he needed him in the field that day. He said to him, you are not worth the salt you're made of. That critical line stayed with my father, I think forever. My father was very ambitious and driven. It didn't destroy him, but it really went to his heart and it hurt.

M/
But think of the family difference. In my family, it would have been, leave the field, go play that French horn.

S/
Right. But to my grandfather, it just wasn't, he didn't see the importance in it.

M/
Yeah. The different needs of our families in terms of what music meant to them. Speaking of our family's needs, Rachel, can you think of why your mother wanted you to play the violin?

R/
I have no idea. I didn't want classical music. That was the other piece for me. I wanted a fiddle. I wanted to play a country fiddle. And I wanted to play the blues on the piano. So there was that conflict also, because I didn't want the music that I was supposed to be learning.

M/
Do you remember approximately how old you were when you started playing the violin?

R/
I had to have been about 11 or so when I stopped, because I just said, no, you know, this is just a waste of your money and my time. It was very clear that I wasn't cut out for Vivaldi.

M/
Your sister hinted to me that you got kind of angry with your mother when you were playing.

R/
I got very angry with my mother when... I was always angry with my mother. God bless her. She did what she could. I remember being angry with her with the violin. It was a very, a traumatic event, a time when I lost my temper and it really caused harm. And over Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which we do know is a very important piece of music and has changed the world. It was like a note that I thought was different than the note she was saying it was. And she got really irritated with me because I got stubborn or just couldn't hear it the way she heard it. I don't know which it was. I guess it was a battle of the wills. I took it as me trying to please her with all of these things and not being able to. And I lost it and caused harm and I'll leave it at that.

M/
You didn't just go off and practice on your own. Your mother got involved in your playing and tried to work with you on it.

R/
I guess so. I mean, I did practice. I just was doing what I was supposed to do and I wanted to succeed with it. I had tried. I had really, really tried. But I'll give you a little lesson in ADHD. You don't want to give them an instrument that is already frustrating to learn how to play. I could not make that violin do what I wanted it to do. And it just was so frustrating for me.

M/
Do you listen to classical music now? Do you have a love of classical music or not really?

R/
I don't love it like I love other music and other genres, but I do love it. I mean, part of the reason I love it is because of my mother. You know, it brings me to her when I can't be with her in any physical way. You know, there's some piano music that she would play over and over and just, can picture her at the piano and her face and her hands and her, you know, she would make this kind of face while she was playing and the emotion that would come through as she dove into this thing and how also this tightness because she never felt like she was communicating it well enough. And you know, just it was such a passion for her to work at that, whereas everything else really came fairly easily to her. She didn't have to work so hard at the other things, but her perfectionism really, really shone when she was playing the piano. But I love those pieces when I hear them.

M/
I want to say something about this violin your mother gave to my father. It was smashed when she gave it to him. It was in pieces. I don't know, could be a wonderful gift, but it's a little... strange.

R/
You think?

M/
I think this was a full-size violin. I question whether an 11-year-old... I don't think this was your violin. Do you think you had a violin that got smashed?

R/
I very well could have smashed it, but I don't know why she would have given it to him.

M/
Would your mother have given you an Italian violin at age nine?

R/
She would have. Yeah. She explained to me the history of that violin. I can picture us at the dining room table with her opening the case and telling me about it.

M/
We don't know for sure, but we think this could have been the violin that you played.

R/
I think so, yeah. And I never really understood my getting that violin, why they would have thought that a violin that beautiful would make me a beautiful player.

M/
The violin sounded bad. It had what I would call a very timid sound when my father would play it. And his violin from his childhood had a much richer sound.

S/
Couldn't it get tuned up by a professional?

M/
Yes, it could. So I took both violins, my father's childhood violin and the one that Edith gave him, to an amazing place in New York City. It's called David Segal Violins and it's the workshop of David Segal, an extremely talented and well-respected violin maker and violin restorer. You walk into an apartment building near Lincoln Center and you are surrounded by violins, violas, cellos, and there are glass cases with hundreds of bows. You know you're in a special place. Usually there are Juilliard students in the showroom trying out instruments and making really excellent sounds. And some of the world's best violinists like Midori, Joshua Bell, Nadja Solano Sonnenberg, come to this same shop with their violins. This is where I bought my own violin about 15 years ago with help from the manager Diane Mellon. She also helped me donate my own violin to a student after I inherited my dad's violins. I knew she'd be helpful again with these two violins. Here's how we got started.

[Taped interview begins]

M/
I can't figure out. I'm not a good violinist. I'm not at Juilliard. You were so nice to me. Why were you nice to me?

D/
I'm nice to everybody. You know, we're not here to judge. We're not. This isn't an elitist pursuit, in my opinion. I came from a family where music lessons were not a thing that was affordable. So I sympathize with everybody. This should be a joyous journey. They should not be filled with anxiety and insecurity. But that is fostered a lot of times in the music world. And so I tend to go in the opposite direction.

M/
Have you ever had a real Stradivarius here?

D/
Yes, we do now.

M/
You do?

D/
It was owned by Charles Libove. He played it for a good portion of his career. It's the last Stradivarius made by Antonio himself. It's called the Lord Norton, and it was completed in 1737 when he was 93 years old, which is pretty amazing that he was still working at that age and also in that era.

M/
You will eventually sell it to someone.

D/
Yes.

M/
Does that take a long time?

D/
These things take a long time. You're in the long game with instruments of that caliber.

M/
Have you had more than one Stradivarius come through here over the years?

D/
Yes, yeah, we've sold several.

M/
How much turnover is there? Are violins coming and going every day?

D/
All the time, yes.

M/
If you had to say what you love about your job?

D/
Probably in another life I was a matchmaker. So I get to do the matchmaking without the mess of the other thing being a person. Because really it's absolutely magical when you get all those things to come together. The right bow for the person or the right violin for the person or the right bow and violin for the person. Our goal is to satisfy the customer and know that you are making them sound as good as they possibly can within their budget. Because everybody has a different budget. I have people that $2,000 is their max and I have other people that would be like, whatever.

M/
2 million.

D/
10 million. We've gone there. So it happens. You can have bows that are 300,000. Even if somebody only has $2000 or $3,000, I should be able to find something that makes them sound terrific for that money.

[End of recorded interview]

M/
Turns out that matching people with violins is only one of Diane's superpowers. Both of my father's violin cases were stuffed with violin related items he'd been saving forever. It must be something in the family genetics. So she helped me do what no one else could do.

[Recorded interview begins]

D/
OK.

M/
So do you mind throwing these things out for me?

D/
We do this often.

M/
Look at this. My father used this rosin. He might have used it when he was a boy.

D/
You can just throw it out. That's all dried out.

M/
More strings that have been saved for centuries, possibly.

D/
Wow, true string strings. They haven't made in 30 years.

M/
For 30 years? They're 30 year old strings. Yay!

D/
Bye-bye.

M/
How about this rosin?

D/
Bye-bye. Bye.

M/
We've thrown out one, two, three, maybe four rosins. What is that?

D/
I don't know, but bye-bye.

M/
What's that piece of wood in there?

D/
I think we don't want to know. All right.

M/
And then I can throw all those out. Yay. things are really happening here. Here's a couple bows for you.

D/
Bow's nice.

M/
That bow's nice?

D/
Yeah. It's a keeper.

M/
Now we have a few more goodies for you.

D/
Lord.

M/
My father was like me. He liked to save things. I'm handing you four bridges. Are any of those bridges any good?

D/
Okay. No.

M/
I think we have, we have thrown out something.

[End of recorded interview]

M/
Can you believe we threw out so much stuff?

S/
Yay!

M/
But then we reached the moment of truth. First, I asked her to look at the violin my father played since he was a kid. I was really proud to show her that violin because we always thought it was a very fine instrument. Wait till you hear Diane's reaction.

[Recorded interview begins]

M/
This is my father's violin from his childhood. It was made in Boston.

D/
(Laughing)
Okay. Wow.

M/
What's funny?

D/
Did he buy it by the pound? It's so heavy. Sorry, Dad. Oh dear. Cruel, cruel world. Yeah. And it's very wide.

M/
Diane's measuring it right now with the measuring tape.

D/
It's very wide across the middle belt, upper belt too. And this thing... That's not a chin rest. That's a torture device.

M/
My father used it his whole life.

D/
Well, if you don't know any different. Take off the torture device, which can go into that pile.

M/
When you looked at it and saw the size, can you just tell me like there's something wrong with it? It's too heavy or it's...

D/
Well, no, it's quite woody. There's a lot of wood in there.

M/
Which is not great.

D/
Which is not the greatest. But if it sounds good... It's kind of if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Just leave it be. I would say hold on to it, especially since this is the one that you enjoy playing the most.

M/
And this one doesn't have any great value, right? no.

D/
Everything has value.

M/
For nostalgic reasons.

[End of recorded interview]

M/
Just in case you missed it, that was hearty laughter you heard when Diane first looked at my father's violin. It shocked me to find out that it was the wrong size and the wrong weight, and it probably can't ever be sold, maybe just donated to a student. My dad did not know any of that. But it was always the other violin, the one from his sister Edith, that he loved the most. That's the one he put into his will. Diane looked at that one next.

[Recorded interview begins]

M/
This is the old violin that had been smashed. I believe that it says inside that it's a Stradivarius model, not a Stradivarius obviously. My father thought it was a Stradivarius and was going around the nursing home telling everyone and we got a call one day saying, your father should not be walking around the nursing home with a Stradivarius.

D/
A Stradivarius with a fiberglass bow. That's a little bit of sadness right there. Okay.

M/
Do you have any feeling about that violin?

D/
I like it. There's something about it that I really like. It's pretty and so it bears further investigation.

[End of recorded interview]

S/
That violin shop is so impressive. I'm just amazed that a place like that would even let you in the door.

M/
I'm amazed too. But that's how they play it.

S/
What about the violin from Rachel's mother? Did they fix it?

M/
To find out the history of the violin and see what might be wrong with it, they'd have to take the top off and really check it out, which is very delicate, time consuming work and expensive. Plus, they couldn't guarantee that it would make the violin sound better. So Cindy and I went back and forth for a few months. We couldn't decide whether we could afford to gamble our money on it. But finally, we chose to honor my dad's wishes and we told Diane to go for it. Of course, the workshop was really busy at that time. So it was almost a year before we got it back again.

S/
So what happened? I can't wait to hear.

M/
I can't wait to tell you. if you two are going to help me decide what to do with it, I think you're gonna need a little more background. Rachel, do you think I enjoyed playing the violin?

R/
No.

M/
Sally, what do you think?

S/
I thought you liked it a little. Till I learned today that you smashed two violins. What led you to do that, Michael?

M/
I think it's safe to say I had some conflicted feelings. Part of the problem is that most people start the violin really early when they're not old enough to decide if it's something they want to do. I think I started when I was six years old.

S/
Could you actually play it when you were six?

M/
I couldn't really play it. I would get out the case and just do what a six-year-old would do, like make crazy noises and jump around.

S/
But you stayed with it, didn't you?

M/
Well, at eight, I started lessons and continued ten years till I was 18. Pretty early on, I realized that I didn't really like the violin. I was very conscientious and dutiful. Except the moments when I realized that I needed to do something to stop playing the violin, like smash them. Accidentally on purpose. Each time it happened, I would say it was an accident. My father would say, don't you worry, we'll get it fixed. And it would be fixed within a week.

S/
Don't you worry.

M/
When I was 10, my father found a violin teacher for me who lived on our street. Within a few years, they actually created an orchestra in my town so that I would have an orchestra to play my violin in. My father was the first chair and I was the second chair and then they got a better violinist to be first chair. When I packed up to go to college, I left the violin under the piano where it always was. We packed the car, we drove in front of the house. My father pulled over, didn't say a word, went back into the house, got the violin, stuck it in the back of the car, and we drove on. And I had never said I was not going to bring it. He knew I had not taken it. When I got to college, I hid it and never told anyone I played. And that was the end of that.

S/
You started playing again later on, didn't you?

M/
Yes. When I turned 50, I went to an event where I saw this violinist. His name is Craig Judelman. And he was so freaking cool. In terms of coolness, a step above Jack Nicholson. And Craig was playing klezmer music and fiddle music and just amazing. And I went up him and said, can you teach me? He said, of course. So I took lessons with him during a five year period. When I started with him, he said, play something. And I played something and he looked and he said, I am amazed. I was like, wow. He said, I am amazed that you could get a sound out of that instrument while you are the most tense and tight person I've ever seen in my life. He said, we're going back to ground zero. We're going to start by having you try to play just a string and you're going to play open strings for weeks, not even a note, just to get me to relax. So we started over and played for five years and I definitely got better. Which was a surprise.

S/
It was a surprise that you were playing at all.

M/
You said it. In fact, Rachel and I had an Uncle Marty who was the younger brother of both of our parents, and he knew how much I hated playing the violin. So around the time of my first lessons, he was in the hospital, unfortunately, getting treatment for cancer. And he was very sick, and he could barely talk or move. And I went over and I whispered in his ear, Uncle Marty, I'm taking violin lessons." And his eyes turned to me in total disbelief. So I repeated, yes, I'm playing the violin and practicing every day. And my uncle, who could barely move, sat straight up in bed and yelled really loud, holy shit! I hope that was a good thing because it was the last time I saw him.

S/
I guess the violin meant a lot to everyone in your dad's family.

M/
It did. In the end, I think I frustrated my teacher because at a certain point I just said, I don't like the sounds I'm making. It doesn't sound good to me. Does that sound familiar by any chance, Rachel?

R/
Yeah, I am feeling a connection. It's like, yes, let's just keep this conversation going.

M/
Well, there's definitely more. In 2020, when we were quarantined for COVID,my father was also quarantined and I couldn't go see him. And he was old and he was alone in the nursing home. So we used to zoom and play the violin with each other on zoom. And my dad played the second movement of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto for me by heart.

S/
That is amazing.

R/
Yeah.

M/
Up to that point, my father had been with it mentally, but a few weeks later he fell and hit his head in a way that affected his brain. And that was when COVID was raging and I was actually afraid to go to his nursing home, but I really wanted to go. So they suited me up with a surgical mask and a surgical gown and a cap. He didn't seem to know me, which was pretty upsetting.

S/
But you were totally covered. That could have been it.

M/
Maybe. Anyway, I got out the violin and I went and I held it right over him and I played the song, The Swan for him, the same song he played for us when we were kids. And I looked down and for one second, his eyes lit up with excitement, totally lit up. And he started to reach out to me and then his eyes went blank again. And that's the last time I saw him.

S/
That is so beautiful, Michael.

R/
Yeah.

M/
Well, a few weeks after that, I played that same piece at his memorial service and I was so upset. I just played it just so terribly. But our cousin Dan was very nice and called me to say that he gave me credit for trying. So that's the background about me and the violin. And now you get to hear what happened when I went back to see Diane at David Segal Violins in New York City.

[Recorded interview begins]

M/
Okay, is that it?

D/
That's it.

M/
It's beautiful. Wow. What would you say about the appearance of it as distinguishing it from other violins?

D/
It has a fairly high arch and it looks on the Italian model. We're still not sure what the origin of the instrument is. It's a composite. So the top seems to be earlier than the back and sides and scroll seems to be also later. We have very affectionately referred to them as Frankensteins. But beautiful Frankensteins.

M/
When we say earlier and later do we mean like...

D/
Mid to late 18th century probably early 19th century mid 19th century.

M/
Okay so it was the front that's oldest and that is Italian or we don't really know?

D/
It's definitely Italianate. It would take a lot more research and time and other eyes looking at it. A colleague of ours had a chance to look at it, but for a very short period of time, he'd like to look at it again when he comes back into town. And of course, we would show it to him again.

M/
What was wrong with it?

D/
I wouldn't say there were things actually like wrong with it. What happened was it had fallen into a state of disrepair because nobody was maintaining it. So old cracks opened up again. The arching started to fall. The base bar was fatigued, needed a good cleaning. It just needed some love. But those things are expensive. The top has to come off to fix all of the old cracks and to reassert the arching. The base bar has to be put in. And then any old studs or old linings that are broken or have become detached, have to be reattached or rebuilt. There's a lot of rebuilding going on here.

M/
The fingerboard was touching the wood, wasn't it?

D/
Yes, it was laying on the top. And so now that the neck is reset, everything is way better.

M/
Would you say that this is a violin for a beginning violinist, a more advanced violinist?

D/
Very much for an advanced violinist.

M/
Wow, that's nice to know. If a beginning violinist plays a nice violin like this, could it make the violinist any better?

D/
Yes, absolutely.

M/
Well, that's a goal.

D/
The better the tools, the easier it is to progress.

M/
My dad felt this was a treasure. You remember the story that he saved it. It is?

D/
In my opinion, yeah.

M/
So my dad was right.

D/
He was right.

M/
That's wonderful.

[End of recorded interview]

M/
Well, it turns out that my dad did know a treasure when he saw one. The Franken-violin he got from your mother, Rachel, finally sounds as beautiful as it looks. And bearing in mind all my history with the violin, I have to decide what to do with it.

S/
That's going to be difficult.

M/
Yeah. I know. And that's why before we get to that big decision, I'm going to make a few smaller ones. Because you remember, I have all these other things related to the violin that I've saved, and I need your help with deciding what to do with them. Like, here's an example. This is the scales book my father used to play in the 1930s when he was taking violin lessons. It says: To David, my conscientious pupil, in much regard, Hiram Goldman. Another piece of paper that I also saved, because you know I'm saving everything, from 1974 October. This is a letter from my violin teacher as a recommendation for college admission, a general letter. And she wrote -- remember his teacher used the word conscientious -- she wrote, I have found Mike a delight to work with dependable, talented. And conscientious. It's weird that I was actually more like my father than we ever admitted. What do I do with this book of scales and chords that thanks my father for being a conscientious student? No one's going to ever want to use this for playing music. It is a little bit historical because it's this old Boston Fisher publishing thing. Do I save this or do I just throw it out?

S/
Is there a historical society somewhere that would take that?

M/
I have tried historical societies and nobody is hysterical about getting any of this. Okay. So is this trash? I mean, maybe there's a grandchild who would one day want it if, you know, I wait 10 years and they grow up and then I could say, was your grandfather's. You never know.

R/
I mean, I don't know. There is that possibility. This is so difficult.

M/
I have this ever growing box of things that I've reviewed, but I still can't throw them out. So this will go in that box. And when I reach my final days and somebody comes along to throw away my stuff, they can just put this box right in the trash.

R/
Yes.

M/
I'm going to show you something else. This type of card that I'm showing you, it's like a little tag, like a tag you would hang on clothing. But my father was in the leather business and this was the kind of tag you would hang on a stack of hides to say, these are pigskin that came from here and they've been dyed with this chemical. Only on this tag in his writing it says, this is emotional, it says Jascha. Do know why it says Jascha?

R/
No.

M/
Jascha Heifetz, one of the all-time greatest violin virtuosos. He's written Jascha, have a good musical experience, play well. He's attached this to my violin case. It was I believe at my senior recital... When I used to practice at home, I need to tell you, my father would yell from the other room, intonation. And just for anyone who's listening who doesn't know what that means, it means you're playing out of tune. So when I did my senior recital, he could not control himself. And he yelled out from the audience, intonation, while I was playing my recital.

S/
My God!

M/
He couldn't control himself.

R/
Wow.

M/
And he is a good man. And he did many wonderful things for me. Now, Sally, I played that violin all the time you knew me. Do you have any memory of ever hearing me play the violin?

S/
Never. I heard some complaints and how, you know, your dad really wanted you to play and you didn't really want to, but I never heard you play.

M/
In high school, like I gave concerts and you never came.

S/
I don't think I was invited because your dad was yelling out intonation and you know, maybe you would have been embarrassed. I don't know.

M/
I was inspired by my teacher to try out for the district orchestra of Eastern Massachusetts. I saved my ratings cards from my raters. I tell you, I saved things. So this is from 1974 and it says, nice tone, intonation could use some improvement. See, my dad wasn't wrong.

S/
And he was so conscientious, he had to do that.

M/
Do I save this for the humor value?

S/
I would take a picture of it and then, you know, it's on your picture roll and you can look at it in your dotage.

M/
And throw it out.

S/
That you can throw out, I think.

R/
Yeah.

M/
So now at last, we get to the big decision. I'm going to follow Diane's suggestion and keep my father's violin, the one he had since childhood. I know it's not worth anything, but the sentimental value is huge. And what do we do about the violin that your mother, Rachel, gave to my father? What do you think in terms of if you have something like that, what should you do with it? What's our obligation, especially if there's a codicil in the will saying don't give it away?

R/
I would be in the same dilemma that you're in. I don't know, you know, with decisions like this, it's really, what's going to give you the most peace?

S/
If there's a heaven, your dad's going to know all about it if you give it away.

R/
And while you're walking around on earth, you can have peace about whatever choices you make. Obviously, you know, there are just all these stories that it inspires by having this podcast.You're taking those stories and running with it, which is important. That keeps it alive. And it keeps the spirit of it alive, which is multifaceted because, you know, up until now, I thought I was the only violin smasher in the family and that everybody was so much calmer than I was.

S/
I wonder if there's a gene for that.

R/
I don't know. It's a hard question. Who would you want to give it to if you did decide to give it up? What would be the purpose behind who you give it to? Obviously, there's so many lessons in this violin that go beyond what my violin teacher, the lesson he gave me. And there are life lessons and people lessons and love lessons and family lessons. I mean, look, you know, I'm 71 and this is giving me a whole new perspective on the dynamics of our family and our history and our stories that started in Russia and came here and are attached to all of those significant events. It's easy to say, just give it away. Don't worry about it. Sell it, you know, use it for something or whatever. And I think that's kind of what's come through in this idea of letting go of things, you know, in the title of your podcast. We want to keep those stories going and not just let them fall flat on their faces somewhere in a landfill. That's exactly it. And the question is how?

M/
That's just hitting right at the heart of the matter. I hope that telling the story is something that does justice to it. And I had negative feelings about my relationship to the violin and my father, in terms of the violin, but I do want to honor him and his codicil, which is not a legal document, which I do not have to follow, is a beautiful document to share that tells you what was important to him and that can live on. And the storytelling is something that I want to share. just like you said, so that it won't all just disappear without it being known. We had an episode earlier with these really wonderful people who had a TV show called The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning. And they took me off guard and surprised me a little by saying about something else, your father's not here anymore and you need to live your life and you need to decide what you want to keep because that's the reality of how things are. What he loved may not be what I loved. I love it because he loved it. That's why I love it. I want to share with you now a key factor in my decision about this violin. When I was at the David Segal workshop, I met Amelia Bailey. She's the young woman who played the violin at the very beginning of this episode. Amelia is a wonderful violinist. She just graduated from Manhattan School of Music. And now she's auditioning for orchestras who are going to be fighting over her, I'm sure. She agreed to show us what the refurbished violin could do by playing a short excerpt from the Sibelius Violin Concerto. And I want to play that for you now. 

[Recorded interview begins]

Amelia:
Anytime you play on a different instrument, it feels strange, but I'm happy to contribute. So like my instrument is bigger than, like slightly bigger. You feel it in every little micro measurement of playing.

[Amelia plays an excerpt from the Sibelius Violin Concerto]

[End of recorded interview]

R/
Beautiful. It was lovely. Absolutely.

S/
What a sound.

M/
I don't believe in heaven, but I do believe in metaphors. And what Amelia can do with that violin would absolutely put my father in heaven on earth. On the other hand, the effect her performance had on me might not make him quite as happy. After hearing that, I was ready to make a decision. It is so clear that no one in our family will ever be able to do that. And even though it isn't exactly what my father requested, I think the best way to honor him is to get this violin into the hands of someone who will love it and play it beautifully. And that's what I plan to do. I'll enjoy this beautiful violin a little longer, and then I'm gonna pass it on to someone else.

R/
Yes. Yay.

M/
So that's the complete saga of all the violins that I inherited. Just a few last thoughts. If you have an instrument stowed away somewhere, now is the time to do something meaningful with it. You can call the Opportunity Music Project and donate your instrument to a New York City student who really needs it. They are at OpportunityMusicProject.org.

S/
And we also want to give a big thanks to David Segal Violins in Manhattan for helping Michael throw out what was junk and restore what was a treasure.

M/
Yes, and very special thanks to the wonderful Diane Mellon. And if there's any chance that you would like to hear even more tales about my family and the violin, you can watch a reading of the play I wrote that's based on my trials and successes with the violin and with my parents. The father role is played by David Rasche, who you may know as a recurring character on the TV show Succession, and Eric William Morris, one of my all-time favorite actors, plays the son. There's a link to the video for the reading on the page for this episode on our website at throwitoutpodcast.com.

S/
And you also posted pictures of all the violin-related treasures that you saved, right?

M/
Yep. And there are links to a video of my dad, playing his violin when he was 95 years old. That's also at throwitoutpodcast.com. Rachel, we loved talking with you.

S/
We did.

R/
I have really enjoyed it. It was just bringing back some childhood memories that I haven't been able to remember on my own. So this has been wonderful.

M/
That's exactly what my whole point is. We have these objects that are full of memories and the memories are stuck inside them. And what we did partly today is we took the memories out of that violin and we...

S/
Set them free. I love it.

R/
Yeah.

M/
Well, I'm going to give you just a few more twists to finish off this violin tale. The first one goes back to 1963, the same year I got my first violin. That's when my parents also gave me a portable record player and a record album called Movin' by Peter, Paul, and Mary. And ever since then, I've really wanted to play acoustic guitar. I did try once about 20 years ago, and it didn't go well. But now, at age 67, I'm taking a really fun online guitar class called Justin Guitar, and I'm practicing almost every day, and I've got six chords that I can play pretty well.

S/
Yay!

R/
Yay!

M/
But that's not all. It turns out that Amelia Bailey, who played the Sibelius concerto for us, isn't just an amazing violinist. She is also a violin teacher. So I wrote to her and she has an appointment on her calendar now for one lesson with a very old student who has no talent. But don't get me wrong. I'm still determined to give that beautiful violin to someone who can play it well. But I might give just one more try to see what I can do with it. Then I'll give it up. I promise. I think. And here's the last twist. You two gave me so much help that you must be punished. I am going to play you your violin now that it has been renovated.

R/
Yes.

M/
I'm gonna play a song called The Swan, which my father used to play for us before we went to sleep. I played it earlier when I was practicing for Cindy. She said, my God, that was wonderful. And I said, do you have your hearing aids in? And she said, no. This is what comes from 15 years of violin lessons and a lifetime of mixed feelings about the violin. I'm just gonna play the first few bars to give you a sense of it. Rachel, here's your beautiful violin. There it is.

R/
My goodness.

M/
It's been completely refurbished.

R/
It's beautiful.

M/
And it's very, very light. It's light as a feather. I can't believe how nervous I am in front of you two. It's crazy. And here we go.

[Violin music:  The Swan by Saint Saens]

M/
Okay, I think we've heard enough of that.

S/
That was lovely, Michael.

R/
Yeah.

M/
I should have told you you're not allowed to bullshit.

R/
No, I'm not bullshitting. It was beautiful. I don't bullshit.

M/
Well, now it's time to cleanse your ear canals with some real music. Our theme song performed by Boots Kamp and Don Rauf, who is also the leader of the superstar rock band Life in a Blender. By the way, there's an excellent violinist in Don's band, so check them out. Definitely better listening to her than to me. Bye Rachel. Bye Sally.

S/
Thank you, Rachel.

[Theme song begins]

I Couldn't Throw It Out theme song
Performed by Don Rauf, Boots Kamp and Jen Ayers
Written by Don Rauf and Michael Small
Produced and arranged by Boots Kamp

Look up that stairway
To my big attic
Am I a hoarder
Or am I a fanatic?

Decades of stories
Memories stacked
There is a redolence
Of some irrelevant facts

Well, I couldn't throw it out
I had to scream and shout
It all seems so unjust
But still I know I must
Before I turn to dust
I've got to throw it out
Before I turn to dust
I've got to throw it out

Well I couldn't throw it out
Oh, I couldn't throw it out

I'll sort through my possessions
In these painful sessions
I guess this is what it's about
The poems, cards and papers
The moldy musty vapors
I just gotta sort it out

Well I couldn't throw it out
Well I couldn't throw it out
Oh, I couldn't throw it out
I couldn't throw it out

[Theme song ends]

END TRANSCRIPT


 

Rachel Kuklinski Profile Photo

Rachel Kuklinski

Former Violinist

Rachel's life melody has been evolving for 71 years. Although she is not a musician, she approaches life measure by measure and relishes every note and lyric from her experiences teaching, gardening, dancing, and just plain listening to it as a close, close friend.

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