A Courageous Experiment that will Make you See Music and Beauty Differently

“Spontaneity is a meticulously prepared art.” ~ Oscar Wilde

At 7.51 am on Friday 12th January 2007, an unassuming lone male figure dressed in a long sleeved T-shirt and baseball cap played the most spiritually uplifting violin music there is, on a £3.5 million Stradivarius, to oblivious passing commuters at the L’Enfant Plaza on the Washington Metro.

The subway experiment:

Normally classical music fans, and in particular, violin aficionados pay around $100 to attend a Joshua Bell concert, for the chance to listen to one of the greatest living violinists.

I saw Joshua Bell in a performance of Schubert with Jeremey Denk in Vienna a few years back. It was very special. I got to meet him briefly afterwards, and I cannot think of a more down to earth, approachable and lovely person as he. It also helps that he’s pretty much flawless on the violin too…

Joshua Bell in Vienna

The experiment was thought up by Joshua Bell and Gene Weingarten, a Washington Post journalist, curious to see if someone of Joshua’s fame and reputation would elicit large crowds and a hefty amount of coinage in his case.

The outcome of the 45 minute busking session was shocking – of the 1097 people that passed by Joshua that morning, only 7 people stopped to listen for a minute or longer, and the ones who tended to want to stop most were children.  Joshua had received little over $32 for the entire session.

I’m not sure many other professional violinists would have undertaken a similar experience…

For lesser virtuoso’s that kind of reception would likely have cleaved a severe dent in their ego, but Joshua Bell, I think, was able to look objectively at what happened. It had no bearing on his skill on the violin.

It had everything to do with perception, placement and people’s capacity to enjoy something despite its context and their preconceived ideas.

Buskers, although many are highly talented, are not usually in the same league as a concert soloist. We tend to disregard them unless we like what we hear. No matter their skill level my children always stop for buskers.

It was early in the morning and people were naturally rushing to work so they weren’t really focused on anything else. The dismal results highlight how often we can live in a kind of manic, 21st century stress bubble.

Our schedules are crammed to the hilt; we don’t appear to have a nanosecond to enjoy the finer things in life. But such a blinkered attitude means we miss out on what’s really around us.

“Some of the most thrilling things in life are done on impulse.” ~ Syrie James (The Missing Manuscript of Jane Austen)

It’s time to open up our awareness and take a deep, abdominal sniff of the roses – really smell and devour their glorious scent – make it a part of us.  Let that divine aroma mingle in our blood as it pulses around our body and nourishes our cells.

Stop and listen to the music if you can, it’s highly beneficial for human beings. Pause and appreciate a work of art, read an excerpt of a classic text and truly digest what message, what heart-felt passion and skill went into its creation.

One of the best violinists in the world was playing music that speaks to the soul on a Golden Period Stradivarius, and barely anyone could truly appreciate it. This wasn’t just any old music played on a shoddy instrument by an amateur – this was mastery – mastery of composition, of violin construction and musicianship.

It makes you think what else we might miss if our radar isn’t attuned to art, nature, beauty, literature and music, our whatever it is that elevates our soul. The universe is ‘speaking’ to us all the time, but are we listening?

Many opportunities for joy may pass us by if we are in a kind of awareness stupor, only concerned with the banalities of life. To be fair, maybe some people didn’t recognise or know who Joshua Bell is; but surely the heavenly music would have roused them from their cultural cocoons for just a minute?

It’s a sad day when a person’s life is so devoid of feeling or joy that they cannot spare such a short time to enrich it.

Here’s the article that Gene wrote after the experiment in the Washington Post.

The Man with the Violin

The experiment prompted children’s author Kathy Stinson to write a glorious book about it: The Man with the Violin. Kathy put herself in the shoes of one of one of the children who may have passed Joshua that cold wintry morning and wrote it from a young boy’s point of view.

When I discovered this book I had already seen the experiment and knew that my daughters would love it. They do, and so do I, because it reminds me to pay attention to what my children pay attention to, and to live in and enjoy the moment.

It’s beautifully written with a beautiful message and evocative illustrations.

Context

One of the lessons of this enlightening experiment was context. It turns out that time and place matter, that expectation has an impact on our experience and enjoyment. When we have paid a considerable amount of money to sit in a concert hall and hear the amazing acoustics of a hotly billed soloist we are in the right frame of mind to get the most out of that experience.

Spontaneity is not something that the majority of people who passed him seemed to possess. It also demonstrated that people tend not to value something unless they pay for it.

His follow-up performance at Washington Union Station in 2014 was much more successful! It helped that the event was publicised, so people knew in advance what was happening.

Joshua Bell is very eloquent when he talks about the experience and classical music in general:

I love his passion for children to have a musical education and how that impacts on their lives as well as their test scores. Music (of any kind) is not a nice to have, it’s as essential as maths and literature. It’s fundamental to our well-being on a mental, emotional, physical and spiritual level.

So whatever floats your boat, be it music, literature, art, or being in nature, take time to enjoy it and let its beauty infiltrate your life and revitalise your soul.

“No matter how many plans you make or how much in control you are, life is always winging it.” ~ Carol Bryant

The Astonishing 300 Year History of the Gibson ex-Huberman Stradivarius

“The true artist does not create art as an end in itself; he creates art for human beings. Humanity is the goal.” ~ Bronislaw Huberman

Now owned and played exclusively by Joshua Bell, the Gibson ex-Huberman Stradivarius violin was made in Cremona in 1713 by the most revered luthier of them all: Antonio Stradivari, during what was known as his ‘golden period’ from around 1700 to 1725.

Illustration of Antonio Stradivari in His Atelier

Illustration of Antonio Stradivari in His Atelier – Image by © Stefano Bianchetti/Corbis

If the origin of a violin or stringed instrument is the key to its value, then a large part of that provenance is inexorably wrapped up in its history after its departure from the  Stradivari workshop in Cremona.

If a violin can be said to imbibe the qualities of its owners, world events and individuals who have influenced its journey; then this violin’s history is virtuosic, violent, secretive, poignant, beautiful and courageous.

Recent History

Joshua Bell talks about how it was ‘love at first sight’ when he first saw and heard it during a rehearsal with its then owner, British violinist Norbert Brainin, a former member of the esteemed Amadeus Quartet. He felt its tone was sweet as well as ‘gutsy’, which is not surprising considering who has played on it and where it has been. Norbert joked that one day it might be his…if he had 4 million dollars to spare…

Joshua Bell - Huberman_violin

It must have been written in the stars that one day it would be his. That day came in 2001 when Joshua Bell was at J & A Beare’s in London having some maintenance work done on his ‘Tom Taylor’ Stradivarius violin. He learnt from Stephen Beare that the Gibson ex-Huberman Strad was on their premises being prepared for imminent sale by Brainin to a German industrialist.

Joshua had to act fast, and managed to purchase the violin before it was gone from his grasp, probably forever. He performed on it at the Royal Albert Hall the same day it came into his ownership and has never played another instrument since.

How it Sounds

If a violin can be said to have a soul, then I think the Gibson/Huberman violin’s soul is Polish. It may have been crafted in Cremona, but its roots are entwined with its most celebrated owner, Bronislaw Huberman. Perhaps that’s why it sings so resonantly to the music of Chopin.  Here is his nocturne in C sharp minor performed by Joshua Bell on the Huberman Strad for his first album release (Romance of the Violin), after purchasing the violin.

I recently watched The Return of the Violin; an incredibly moving documentary film, (tissues were needed), and felt compelled to share it with you. It’s a film about the depth of the human spirit and the story of the violin’s incredible history coming full circle,  the ultimate testament to the healing power of music.

Narrated and produced by Roy Mandel, directed by Haim Hecht, he talks to the central figure of the film, holocaust survivor Sigmund Rolat, whose tragic memories and brutal observations of the Nazi invasion of Poland ties together their respective Jewish families from Czestochowa, along with 20th century Polish wunderkind violinist, Bronislaw Huberman and composer Johannes Brahms.

Bronislaw Huberman (1882 – 1947)

A Jewish boy from Czestochowa, he was a child prodigy who grew to be one of the most iconic violinists of the 20th century. He was known for his individualistic and personal interpretations, which I find very refreshing in this day and age of focus on technique.

Violinist Bronislaw Huberman, aged 18.

Violinist Bronislaw Huberman, aged 18.

He began learning the violin at the age of four, because his father (a law clerk), wanted him to play the piano, but not being able to afford one gave him a violin instead. His immense talent soon became obvious and according to the film, he was gifted the Stradivarius violin that had been owned by the family of Count Władysław Zamoyski (1853–1924).

I love this 1930 Huberman recording of Bruch’s beautiful theme based on Hebrew melodies written originally for cello, Kol Nidrei:

He’s also amazing with Chopin! Gorgeous vintage recording:

For a time the young Huberman was tutored by the great Joseph Joachim in Berlin. He introduced Bronislaw to the composer Joahnnes Brahms, (who was having a bit of a revolt on his hands from the violinists of the day), over the difficulty of his Violin Concerto in D Major. Not so for the Polish wunderkind. Brahms didn’t believe Joachim until he heard the  young boy perform his work at a legendary concert in Vienna.

My sheet music of the Brahms Violin Concerto Op. 77 in D major

My sheet music of the Brahms Violin Concerto Op. 77 in D major

I have to admit I didn’t know much about Huberman, and when I saw the film and learnt of his courage and devotion I was full of admiration for him. He was a remarkable man, a visionary and humanitarian.

Not only was he the founder of what is now known as the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, he rescued as many of his fellow European Jewish musicians (and their immediate families) from the horror of the holocaust as was possible, by giving them a place in his new Orchestra of Palestine.

“One has to build a fist against anti-semitism – a first class orchestra will be this fist.” ~ Bronislaw Huberman

Talk about playing for your life! I can only imagine the stress of some of these musicians must have felt when auditioning for a seat in Huberman’s new orchestra; which if you earned yourself a place essentially meant escaping the death camps.

Perhaps Hollywood should make a movie called ‘Huberman’s List.’

The Thefts

The first time the Gibson/Huberman Strad was stolen was in Vienna in 1919. Fortunately, it was quickly recovered and Huberman continued to wow audiences on it for another 17 years.

And so it played out, on that fateful day – 28th February 1936 – whilst Huberman was on stage playing his Guarnerius violin during a benefit concert at Carnegie Hall, (to raise funds for his new orchestra in Palestine), the Huberman Strad, laying in repose in its double case in his dressing room, was stolen.

I can only speculate if Juilliard trained violinist Julian Altman had premeditated his musical larceny, or whether it was a crime of passion, an opportunistic urge on the night to steal the Gibson Strad.

With breathtaking contempt and audacity the shyster Altman played on it at weddings and other political events. No-one was any the wiser for half a century, with the possible exception of his friend, Luthier Ed Wicks who lived in Danbury. He carried out repairs to the bridge and neck of the violin in 1983 and noticed the inscription inside.

Although Altman told him it was a copy, I suspect he was of a different opinion, but he wasn’t to know that it had once belonged to the great Bronislaw Huberman. Sadly, Huberman never saw his beloved Strad again.

Huberman was reimbursed to the tune of $30,000 dollars (its value at the time), and ownership of the stolen strad passed on to its insurer: Lloyds of London.

It was only while in jail and on his deathbed in 1985 that Altman confessed to his crime, telling his wife she could find the supporting documents to corroborate his story in between the violin case and its canvas cover. His estranged wife Marcelle collected the instrument from the home of Ed Wicks and returned the instrument to the authorities, whereby Charles Beare verified its authenticity.

Charles Beare in The Strad magazine:

“As I lifted the violin from its case, I didn’t appreciate that Mrs. Hall and her friends and family were still in doubt about the violin’s identity. Very slowly I said ‘No — problem’, and it turned out that in the second or two between the two words Mrs. Hall almost died with disappointment. After that there was joy all round.”

“Out in the better light of the garden, away from the crowd and the popping champagne corks, I had a good look at Huberman’s remarkable violin. In 1911, when the young virtuoso purchased it, Alfred Hill of W. E. Hill and Sons wrote ‘The red varnish is in a pure state, as applied by the maker.’ Now you could barely see it, submerged as it was beneath layer upon layer of dirt and polish. . . .Nevertheless the violin was clearly a masterpiece, and in the pale sunlight its handsome wood and red varnish glowed reassuringly.”

Marcelle Hall was paid a finder’s fee of £ $263,475.75  by Lloyd’s of London, which was the focus of much legal wrangling by other beneficiaries of the Altman estate.

Full Circle

Although his entire family were murdered, Sigmund Rolat survived the Second World War and made a successful life for himself in America, returning several times in later life to his and Huberman’s birthplace of Czestochowa.

It was Rolat’s dream to hear Huberman’s violin played by its current owner, Joshua Bell, (who also has Jewish ancestry), in the concert hall that stood on the foundations of the old synagogue before it had been destroyed by the Nazis.

Poignant just doesn’t cover it.

The Return of the Violin

That dream came true in 2009 in conjunction with Rolat’s efforts to open the Museum of the History of Polish Jews in Warsaw:

Interview

Discussion about The Return of the Violin with Sigmund Rolat, Joshua Bell and Budd Mishkin:

Slight Confusion

According to Charles Beare:

W. E. Hill and Sons purchased the violin in the nineteenth century from an old French family, subsequently selling it to Alfred Gibson, a prominent English violinist who also owned one of the Stradivari violas exhibited in Cremona. In 1911 it returned to Hills and was sold to Huberman, at which time Alfred Hill wrote that “the fine red varnish which covers it is in a pure state as applied by the maker.”

This account contradicts the story that the Gibson Strad was given to Huberman by Count Zamoyski. I can’t quite tie together all the loose ends, but it doesn’t matter. This remarkable violin has had remarkable owners, and a dramatic history.

Portrait of Alfred Gibson with his Stradivarius by Herbert Olivier (uncle of Laurence), c. 1899

Portrait of Alfred Gibson with his Stradivarius by Herbert Olivier (uncle of Laurence), c. 1899

It has been celebrated, coveted, admired, and heard in live performance by many (including me).

One thing’s for sure, it went incognito for 51 years before returning to its well-deserved spotlight!

Guarneri (del Gesù), Stradivari and Nagyvary – The Debate over Ancient Violins vs. Modern Masterpieces

“’Tis God gives skill, but not without men’s hand: He could not make Antonio Stradivarius’s violins without Antonio.” ~ George Eliot

When it comes to the value of violins, (and for that matter violas and cellos); provenance matters. The allure of such revered names is enough to send any stringed player into a frenzy…

Ultimately, the quality and rarity of Amati, Stradivarius and Guarnerius violins will render them more expensive than their modern counterparts, no matter how good and comparable the modern violins may be. With only around 600 Stradivarius instruments left in the world not everyone is fortunate enough to be able to play on one, (at least all of the time), let alone own one. And of course, the provenance greatly affects the asking price. Who has owned it, and when, who has played on it, what music has been written for it, the condition, these elements all add to the mystique and desirability of the instrument. Much like a work of art, a painting is worth what someone is willing to pay for it. And in many instances they pay millions.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAPaganini’s violin, the priceless ‘Il Cannone’ was made by a contemporary of Stradivarius; Giuseppe Antonio Guarneri of Cremona, in 1743, and is famed for its power and resonance. Interestingly, when it needed maintenance and repairs, these were undertaken by luthier Jean Baptiste Vuillaume in Paris, who constructed a replica violin so precise in every detail that even Paganini could not distinguish one from the other! Eventually he came to recognise the slight differences in tone, and was able to tell the original by sound. The violin and its replica are kept on display in Italy at the Genoa Town Hall. Occasionally it’s lent to performers.

The Devils’s Violinist (trailer) – A film about Paganini, played by violinist David Garrett:

Jazz violinist Regina Carter recorded an album on his beloved ‘Il Cannone’ (Paganini: After a Dream). Here is the track After a Dream arranged from Faure’s classic:

The debate over the sound quality of ancient Italian violins compared with each other and mostly to their modern counterparts has endured for years. Virtuosos past and present, such as Fritz Kreisler, Jascha Heifetz, Isaac Stern, Itzhak Perlman, Nigel Kennedy, Midori and Sarah Chang have owned, or played, and in some cases preferred, Guarneri over Stradivari.

Amati violinWho can say exactly what that special ‘je ne sais quois’ is, that elevates the Cremonese creations from all other violins? There are so many aspects to making a stringed instrument, and to me it makes sense that skill in every area of construction affects the finished product.

I think it’s worth making the point that for most musicians it’s the relationship that they develop with their instrument that’s the most important thing. After so many hours of practice and performance the feel and touch and memory of every curve and angle is interwoven into your psyche, and it can feel like part of your body!

My own violin is Hungarian, (late 19th Century), and to me its tone is amazing, considering it’s probably a gypsy violin. That’s why I was so interested in the story of the Hungarian born Dr. Joseph Nagyvary.

As the violinist and heroine of my novel, Isabelle Bryant does get a little caught up in this debate. In my story, she plays the Nagyvary violin that was once played by Yehudi Menuhin.

Here’s a brief excerpt that touches on this subject from chapter 1 of The Virtuoso. The protagonist has just given a masterclass at the Royal Academy of Music:

She made her way south on the underground from Baker Street to London Victoria. The dreary grey sky hung like a heavy cloak over the platform. As the train jolted to halt she quickly found a seat by the window, and nestled her case vertically between her feet and knees. As more passengers entered the carriage she touched the edge of her violin case lightly, smiling with resigned humour as a passing stranger made a joke about her carrying a machine gun.

Her violin represented another limb to her, it was that precious. It felt so natural, like an extension of her body. She gently rubbed her neck which was feeling a little sore. The rough, red patch of skin on her neck just below her jaw was often mistaken for a love bite, when in fact it was what she affectionately referred to as a violinist’s hickey. Many hours of gruelling practise had left their marks.

Her mind drifted to her earlier private viewing of the Academy’s museum, where she had been shown round by the curator in person. She had spent a blissful afternoon paying particular awe and reverence to their recent acquisition of Italian virtuoso Giovanni Battista Viotti’s 1709 Stradivarius, renamed as the Viotti ex-Bruce to honour its British donor, which the Academy extolled as one of the most important and well preserved Stradivarius violins in the world.

She had studied the sheen of the dark, pinky brown maple, picturing the old master craftsman huddled in his workshop in northern Italy; surrounded by the distinctive wooden shapes that would become so valuable over three hundred years later. Sadly there were so few of them remaining.

Her own violin, a modern Nagyvary, was crafted by the eminent Hungarian professor Joseph Nagyvary, who had spent his life studying the craftsmanship of Cremonese violin makers; namely Stradivarius and Guarnerius.

Nagyvary violins were made as closely to those of the ancient genius as possible, and there had been many debates about whether or not they actually sounded as good as those of the master. Isabelle adored its sonorous tonal qualities and projection power. If a Nagyvary violin had been good enough for Yehudi Menuhin to play for fifteen years, then it was good enough for her. Gerry, in his nothing is too much of a challenge for me attitude, had managed to do a deal with Joseph Nagyvary to loan Isabelle the instrument indefinitely.  It was her most precious possession – except that she didn’t own it.

Here is an interesting article in Scientific American

Can you tell the difference?

Dr Nagyvary discovers what preserved the violins from Cremona and Venice:

The Stradivarius Mystique – By Joseph Nagyvary

New York Times Article: What Exalts Stradivarius? Not Varnish, Study Says

Smithsonian: Scanning a Stradivarius

List of Stradivarius Violins and their provenance

Wonderful video from the Library of Congress with Peter Sheppard Skaerved, an award winning British violinist, who has performed on ‘Il Cannone’ five times.

An Introduction to Stradivari:

The mystery and romance of centuries old Italian violins has filtered into film making, with the brilliant 1998 movie, The Red Violin. The actual violin that inspired the Red Violin is Stradivari’s 1721 ‘Red Mendelssohn’, currently owned by Elizabeth Pitcairn, heiress to the PPG fortune, whose grandfather purchased it for her 16th birthday at auction for $1.7 million at Christie’s in London.

And on that note, I will leave you with the hauntingly beautiful soundtrack to the film, composed by John Corigliano and performed by Joshua Bell on his Gibson ex-Huberman Stradivarius:

Vienna – The City of Music

004Vienna is the world’s foremost classical music city, indeed of the arts in general, and is one of my favourite places. For music and culture it can’t be beaten. During its musical zenith it was home to great composers such as Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, Schubert, Brahms and the father and son waltz kings, Johann Strauss I and II.

It’s no surprise therefore, that Vienna is the setting for part of my novel, The Virtuoso.

In addition to its musical pedigree Vienna was the birth place, and or base, of artists such as Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele, as well as some of the world’s most respected and ground breaking writers, thinkers and psychologists such as Franz Grillparzer, Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung, Viktor E. Frankl, and more recently, Hans Asperger, Konrad Lorenz, Ludwig von Mises, and Peter Drucker. It was the seat of the mighty Austro-Hungarian Empire and home of the Habsburg dynasty for many centuries. Vienna became a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2001.

093I have been to Vienna in both winter and spring. My first visit was in 2005, which also incorporated a trip to Salzburg and Innsbruck. On my second trip in April 2011, I was focussed on consolidating my research for the venues to be featured in my novel, plus my mum and I had tickets to go and see Joshua Bell perform at the Wiener Konzerthaus! He played beautifully, alongside Jeremy Denk on the piano, and I was thrilled to have met him afterwards and he signed my newly purchased CD.

This superb BBC documentary gives a wonderful overview of the ‘City of Dreams’ and its history:

Vienna has it all: the beautiful Danube river, palaces and parks, museums, galleries, concert halls, churches, coffee houses, baroque architecture, modernism, a rich history, warm and friendly inhabitants, and not forgetting apple strudel to die for. It’s an easy place to fall in love in and with, and that’s exactly what my heroine does!

In chapter nineteen Isabelle Bryant travels to Vienna to do some research on her hero Ludwig van Beethoven, so that she can write about his life and music for an article in High Notes magazine.  During her stay she has a fortuitous second meeting with enigmatic publisher Daniel Carter, (who has already awakened intensely amorous feelings in her at their first meeting), and they begin a passionate love affair amidst the wintry splendour of the city.

I hope this small section of the chapter gives you a flavour of the musical legacy and delights of Vienna:

The day started out brightly. From her small balcony Isabelle peered over the numerous rooftops, her eyes sweeping over the narrow pavements lined with historical houses, each with their own unique story she pondered. Snow lay undisturbed on the pavement below her in Kirchbergasse, still fresh from the heavy fall the night before. She filled her lungs with the wintry air and then made her way to the lounge for breakfast.

Suitably filled with rolls and orange juice she pulled her handbag across her shoulder and waited for Hans in the hotel lobby. It was dead on 9am. A tall dark figure stood erect and patient by the front door. She smiled at him. He smiled back at her, and in a few strides he was by her side greeting her with an outstretched hand.

‘Good morning Frau Bryant, my name is Hans Moser. I am your guide for the day. I understand you wish to visit some of Beethoven’s Houses?’ His slow and clipped accent immediately warmed her heart. She looked up at his strong features. His wide set jaw, olive skin and dark moustache gave him a strangely Latin appearance, and his large brown eyes were framed by substantial eyebrows. Isabelle guessed he must have been about forty.

‘Good to meet you Mr. Moser. That’s right. I’m researching the composer for an article I’m writing.’

He signalled towards a smart black Mercedes waiting at the entrance and pulled open the rear door for her. ‘Is this is your first visit to Wien?’

‘Not exactly,’ she mumbled, clambering into the seat.

‘I used to be a concert violinist, Mr Moser. I’ve been to Vienna once before, I was on tour playing with the Vienna Philharmonic, and most of my time was spent at the Wiener Musikverein. It was just for a couple of nights and unfortunately I didn’t get to see anything of the city. I spent large chunks of my time rehearsing and preparing. I- I had an accident recently, so I can’t play anymore.’

Hans’ eyes caught hers through the rear view mirror. He had already noticed the dressings on her left hand, and bowed his head.

‘I am sorry for your loss. I wish I had been able to see you play. I am a great lover of classical music and especially of Beethoven. I will do my best to make an enjoyable day for you. Also, please call me Hans.’

‘Thank you Hans, I really appreciate your help. I probably could have made it round the city on buses, trams and by foot, but I’m on quite a tight schedule and I don’t really have time to get lost.’ She raised her left arm. ‘My injury isn’t too good in the cold weather either.’

‘It’s a pleasure for me to assist you in such an important task,’ Hans replied.

Isabelle showed him her scribbles of some of the venues she wanted to see and he looked thoughtful.

‘I will take you to the Beethoven Platz first,’ he said, ‘followed by the famous Theater an der Wein, before stopping at the Memorial Rooms in the Pasqualati House, and perhaps the site of the Schwarzspanierhaus, where he died. Beethoven moved house over eighty times during his time in Wien, so there aren’t many houses that we know of left standing. Also in the city is the Palais Lobkowitz which houses the Eroica Saal and the Palais Pallavicini which is opposite the Spanish Riding School of the Hofburg Palace.’

‘That’s great. If there’s enough time afterwards I’d also like to visit the House of the Heiligenstadt Testament, and the Church of Holy Trinity where Beethoven’s funeral was held.’

Hans gave an accommodating nod. ‘I am at your service, we can go wherever you would like.’

They drove in silence as dark clouds gathered in the sky above. Hans pulled the car into a lay by and proudly pointed towards an imposing statue of Beethoven sternly surveying his eponymous Platz.

Isabelle got out and wandered up to the statue. He looked regal and rightly honoured in pride of place in his own little square. Groups of young students came and went as Isabelle took in the scene. To her left was a gothic building containing a performance hall and rooms, and on the opposite side of the square the view was dwarfed by the towering Intercontinental Hotel, and next to that was an ice rink and some construction cranes. The wind whipped around her like a mini tornado but she felt exhilarated.

She took a few pictures and climbed back into the warm interior of the waiting car, brushing her hair away from her face, and Hans sped off further into the city.

Their next stop was the Theater an der Wien, a relatively innocuous looking building amongst the classical finery of the city. Its early nineteenth century yellow façade appeared a little shabby, but the theatre had seen thousands of Viennese concert goers through its green doors during its history. She studied the guidebook to see that it had been built in 1801, and the statues above the doorway were in fact depicting Papageno, from Mozart’s Magic Flute. Reading further she saw that it had also premiered Beethoven’s Fidelio in 1805.

‘It’s hard to believe Hans, but his violin concerto, which was my favourite, premiered in this very theatre on the twenty third of December 1806, after a rushed completion and next to no rehearsal. The Viennese didn’t take to it, and it wasn’t performed for about another four decades. These days it’s in every soloist’s repertoire as one of the great violin concerti, and has even been transcribed for the piano.’

‘It seems even the best of us sometimes have to wait for success,’ concurred Hans.

Isabelle studied her book. ‘Luckily his grand Symphony number five in C minor fared a lot better in December of 1808. His pastoral Symphony and the fourth piano concerto were also premiered in this unremarkable looking building. What I find amazing is that it’s still in use for concerts in the twenty first century.’

‘The concert hall interior is magnificent.’

‘Can we go in Hans?’

Hans disappeared into a small door around the back of the theatre. Isabelle could hear lots of banging and drilling going on inside. He emerged a few moments later shaking his head.

‘I’m so sorry, but unfortunately they are doing renovations ready for Mozart’s two hundred and fiftieth birthday celebrations in the New Year, and so it is closed to the public.’

Isabelle’s shoulders dropped as she sighed. ‘What a shame.’

Hans led her back to the car and she obediently followed him as he opened the door for her. This kind, tall, strong Austrian man had a grace of movement that was masculine and yet gentle.

The snow began falling again as the engine roared back to life, and they drove towards the Palais Lobkowitz.

‘Hans, I understand Prince Lobkowitz was a great patron of the arts one of Beethoven’s strongest supporters?’

‘He was indeed, Isabelle, along with Prince Karl Lichnowsky, Count von Fries and Archduke Rudolph. If you like, I have an interesting anecdote to tell you, about when Beethoven was making a reputation for himself in Viennese society as virtuoso pianist.’

‘Oh Hans, yes please, do tell, I need insider information for my article. I’d love to know what happened.’ Isabelle leaned forward slightly, stretching her seatbelt.

‘You may know it already, but Prince Lobkowitz organised an improvisation contest between Beethoven and a Prussian pianist popular in Vienna in 1800 called Daniel Steibelt.’

‘I’ve never heard of him, Hans. How cool, a salon duel on the ivories. Please go on.’ Isabelle strained her neck a little closer to Hans.

‘In fact they met twice, firstly at the von Fries residence, the Palais Pallavicini. Steibelt was already an established virtuoso on a tour of European capitals and wanted to make his mark in Vienna. He was known for his, how do you say, tremolandos. The first time they met I’m afraid Steibelt apparently impressed the aristocracy more than Beethoven with his fancy performance of his own Piano Quintet. By all accounts he was condescending in attitude towards Beethoven, who refused to play again on that occasion.’

‘Knowing what an irascible temperament Beethoven had I’m sure his blood must have been boiling after that,’ Isabelle said.

‘Most certainly, Isabelle. A rematch was planned a week later at the Palais Lobkowitz.’

‘Oh! The anticipation! What happened Hans?’

I’m pleased to tell you that Beethoven got his revenge on Steibelt at their second meeting. The aristocracy must have been on the edge of their seats under such an atmosphere of hostility. It is said that Beethoven parodied his precious tremolandos and indeed Steibelt’s entire composition. He imitated Steibelt’s Quintet for the ordinary piece it was, and exposed it in a humiliating fashion. He then began to improvise on it with such brilliance that the audience could barely believe what they were witnessing.’

‘Bravo Beethoven!’

‘Steibelt stormed out of the salon while Beethoven was still playing, indeed, mocking him.’

‘Game set and match Ludwig,’ replied Isabelle.

‘Beethoven was known for having small but very intense and bright eyes. They must have surely been blazing that night,’ Hans concluded.

‘Wow. It would have been incredible to have seen him in full flow, going hell for leather against an opulent backdrop with all his unrefined clothes and mannerisms, trumping some posh, over inflated big wig,’ Isabelle said.

‘Yes. He so comprehensively showed up Steibelt that he left Vienna with his pride in tatters and went straight back to Berlin, refusing to ever play in Vienna again if Beethoven were present.’ Hans pulled the car to halt. ‘And here we are, in front of the very building where it all happened.’

You will have to read the novel to become immersed in the rest of Vienna and the raunchier scenes! These chapters of The Virtuoso are a love letter to Beethoven and Vienna.

I wonder if other writers also worry that they haven’t got enough information on a real place to do it justice? In my case I had to work from old memories and photographs, but my emotions at the time made a big impression on me.

Heiligenstadt Testament

I found this piece of music written to evoke Beethoven’s Heiligenstadt Testament by Russian composer Rodion Shchedrin:

I have included a small gallery of photos mostly taken on my 2011 trip.  Just click on a picture to enlarge.

Vienna truly is the ‘City of Dreams’ as well as the ‘City of Music’.