Do not read this book if you want a lofty account of the life and travels of a famed virtuoso violinist- you’ll be disappointed. Reading this book is like hanging out in a coffee shop and talking about life (the highly stylized life of an instrument of art, true) with your great friend Arnold Steinhardt- who just happens to be a international solo violinist and first violinist of the Guarneri String Quartet.
He’ll drag out the family stories about his Jewish family and the village in Dlugosiodlo, Poland where they had lived. He’ll lower his voice and chuckle as he recounts George Szell’s “Border Collie” supervision of the minutest details of orchestra life such as his preference that people not “display one’s pubic hair in public” (a beard) or play poker during intermission (as it is corrupting.) On the flip side, Szell sponsors Arnold’s trip to Geneva, Switzerland to study with Joseph Szigeti at Szigeti's home which overlooks Lake Geneva, and takes great personal interest in helping him find just the right violin (a process which Steinhardt describes in terms of dating and marriage).
There are several themes that recur throughout his journey in music and life which tie the book together- much like recurring themes in a musical composition. One is none other than Bach’s Chaconne, which he tackles through inspired angles and theories including architecture which he pursues in conversation with his architect- friend.
The Chaconne captures Steinhardt early in life and never lets him go. It is an astounding work that is among the most difficult for a violinist to master both in terms of technicality and understanding. Its scope is as large as life and is considered by many to be the pinnacle of the art for a violinist. Brahms wrote of the Chaconne in one of his letters “On one stave, for a small instrument, the man writes a whole world of the deepest thoughts and most powerful feelings. If I imagined that I could have created, even conceived the piece, I am quite certain that the excess of excitement and earth-shattering experience would have driven me out of my mind.”
The other prominent theme is revealed in the title of the book. This book is about dreams literally, through dreams that seep into his unguarded mind at night and exploit his hopes and fears to reflect his life back to him. It is also about the pursuit of personal dreams in his life and their impact upon identity. Let’s face it, career is life-consuming in his profession. The man hikes the Inca trail to the ruins of Machu Picchu with a group and has to lug his violin with him so he can practice along the way.
All along the way Steinhardt recounts many anecdotes from his life and from the profession. Some are humorous such as pricey violins being soaked in gasoline (his own, in a fluke accident that was only funny in retrospect) or even floating out to sea, the look on the customs officials faces after he responded to the question about the name and price of his item (Stradivarius violin).
Steinhardt’s journey is sometimes frightening and tinged with despair as when dealing with an unexplained and continued weakening of a finger on his left (string) hand. “The act of moving one’s arms, hands and fingers over and over again in a very specific way, perhaps hundreds of thousands of times in a given year, is a risky business.” Other times he exposes his romanticism, as when he journeys to play a tribute in the birthplace of his beloved violin or to play at the grave of Bach’s long deceased wife who had never heard the Chaconne (I get chills just typing this).
I would recommend this book to anyone who loves music and appreciates the people who devote their lives to honoring the art, the composers and the audience.
[As a bonus the book comes with a wonderful CD of Steinhardt playing Bach’s Partita in D Minor which includes the Chaconne, in 1966 and 40 years later in 2006.]