On November 15, 1940, Eugene Ormandy, music director of the Philadelphia Orchestra, offered an all-Beethoven program. Such a concert would not have been unusual except for one thing. The three soloists that day were all trailblazing women. To learn more about them, read here..
Read MoreToday we associate the word “unprecedented” with the COVID-19 crisis and its impact on the classical music business. But is it really unprecedented? Here I talk about how we might look at history for some clues.
Read MoreFor my family, there was a lot to learn about musical careers once they came to reside in the United States. Chief among the lessons to be mastered was the extent to which in America, music was a business.
Read MoreMy grandmother, Lea Luboshutz, joined the violin faculty of the Curtis Institute of Music in 1928. Her track record as a pedagogue was impressive based on the careers of almost 150 of her students. Much of this success probably was due to her teaching philosophy and her approach.
Read MoreFor an amateur musician, my father’s opportunities to play with great musicians were extraordinary thanks to his mother-in-law, Lea Luboshutz. One musician he never collaborated with was Leonard Bernstein…but he came ever so close.
Read MoreFor a long time, I thought my grandmother’s various superstitions were an anomaly. Then the acclaimed Soviet violinist, David Oistrakh, came to town and I realized they shared something more than great violin playing.
Read MoreMy grandmother was a firm believer that young musicians should have proven talent at an extremely high level before she would recommend them as students for the Curtis Institute of Music. Then she met the granddaughter of her teacher Eugene Ysaÿe and all bets were off.
Read MoreI always thought it odd that my grandmother, a famous violinist, loved monkeys. In the various places she lived, there were no native habitats for monkeys and she must have been an adult before she saw a live one. But in her homes, there were always paintings, prints, photographs, toys, carvings, statues — you name it — monkeys everywhere. And it was certainly not an animal I associated with music.
Read MoreIn The Nightingale’s Sonata, I mention that many of my grandmother’s contemporaries, in the years she lived in Moscow, described her and her sister, Anna, as quite beautiful. Lest that seem like a sexist subject for a blog post, let me say that such comments were quite important to assess given that beautiful women performers of that era who enjoyed successful careers were often accused of using their looks and heir charms to advance themselves professionally.
Read MoreWhen people ask me what my grandmother was like, I usually resort to telling stories about Lea. Not only are many of these stories quite entertaining but they give a sense of my grandmother’s personality — confident, determined, disarmingly charming, with a wonderful sense of humor. One of my favorite stories is how Lea became a U.S. citizen.
Read MoreWhy did I write The Nightingale’s Sonata? In the opening pages of the book, I give one answer. My mother had entrusted to me a beautiful silver podstakannik or tea-glass holder with an enameled portrait of my two uncles as children. My family had smuggled it out of Russia and eventually my mother passed it on to me along with boxes of family material. She had said, “You must tell the family story.” I promised I would.
But I had another reason for writing the book. . . .
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