Marty's blog

Joseph Szigeti was know as “the violinist’s violinist”.

I have of a copy of his hard to find autobiography “With Strings Attached”.  It’s a good read actually, with lots of fine anecdotes and life lessons, as well as an interesting life story.

(Among other interesting tidbits, he describes giving up his seat on a plane in 1942, during World War Two, to actress Carole Lombard, who was doing a tour promoting war bonds.  That plane crashed into a mountainside in Nevada on its way from Indiana to California.)

Szigeti’s hands started developing arthritis in his 50′s which later became crippling, and he had to end his career. Even during his early arthritis he still performed wonderfully, his art never suffering.

Though there are many, I think he was the violinist that has influenced me the most.  And still does.  He showed that a violinist’s art goes well beyond the fingers of the left hand. This was a great lesson when I had to relearn the fiddle after a serious left hand injury. I’m no great soloist, but I can at least again make a living at it.  Most of his 78 recordings are in my collection and are still cherished and well played.

This performance is of a movement from the D Major Prokofiev Sonata the was from very late in his career.

Speaking of gun bans, and the Supreme Court overturning them, and the 2nd Amendment and such. I can tell you, folks out here are just as happy as pie!

A neighbor last week, not one to gossip – she says – kept me standing in my front lawn while I was being eaten alive by terrorist mosquitoes, giving me the latest on all the neighbors. Among other complaints about the local village government, she was telling me how long it would take the police to get here on a call if there was ever an emergency. Twenty minutes, at least! (we’re still semi-rural)

“Got to have a gun to protect yourself”, she says. “Do you have a gun?”

“No”, I answer.

“But you’re from the city (implied: where all those black people live), aren’t you?”

“Yes”, I say.

“But don’t most people there have guns to protect yourselves?”

“No”, I say.

It went on. More mosquito bites. I was thinking, I will soon die of more mosquito induced blood loss than any bullet could produce. So it seems people like her are seriously afraid of one of “those black people” breaking into their homes at night and doing some bad things.

At night!   That’s hilarious! I have to mention, it’s pretty dark out here, and without street lights. Often when I get home at night and out of my car, I can’t find the front door of my own house. I can’t even see the house unless someone happened to leave a light on.

The reason the police response is so slow is that there is little of the types of crime that most people irrationally fear – especially at night. Not by any virtue, particularly. There are just less people, and at night, it’s just too damn dark. The popular myth that adding more street lighting helps cut down crime is pretty silly. Somebody can’t burgle your house or murder you in the night if they can’t find you. Anyhow, if you look at the statistics, most break-ins and burglaries happen during the daytime when people are not home, and are crimes of opportunity - open garages, unlocked doors, etc.. And, statistically out here, the crimes are not committed by people with dark skin - say, darker than white.

Anyhow, I thought it was time to mention the “R” word. Not in an accusatory fashion, but like, “you know, that sounds kind of racist, and if I didn’t know you better and what a good Christian person you were…”

But truly, nobody here uses the “N” word – no racism out here, by golly! All good Christian folk. No, we just call them “blacks”. All 2.5 of them that live in these parts. Well actually, it’s usually “those blacks” — or “the blacks”.

As opposed to…?

Finally, it looked like she was headed over to not gossip with another neighbor. But she had one more question.

“I heard from [another neighbor] that you play the violin.”

“Yes”, I said.

“Can I ask you kind of an impertinent question?”

“Sure”, I said, “ask away”.

“Are you Jewish?”

“Well, no”, I said. “Why do you ask”?

Here’s a project I’ve been working on since last September with restoration contractors Roger Keys and his son, Matt. They’ve been restoring the facade of this mansion on Astor Street on Chicago’s north side. It was designed by architects Holabird and Root in 1928 – I think the finest Art Deco residence in the city.

Roger not only had to completely restore the cast iron bay, stripping layers of paint and restoring hardware, but had to lift it up the entire bay – all 18 tons of it. It had sagged and started pulling out from the building – and they surgically inserted new structural steel, that could not be seen, to hold it in place. A small but exquisite engineering feat. Matt did all the steel work and welding.

All the leaded glass had to be completely rebuilt. The lead was very deteriorated due to many factors, including steel reinforcment within the heart of the cames that had rusted through.

Roger and I re-engineered new came that we had special ordered to match the old, with brass rebar. We also had to make other structural modifications to the caming while retaining the original look.

Each pane of glass had to be numbered before removal so that it would go back in its original location and orientation.

Then each had to be painstakingly cleaned, and then several – either damaged, or poor earlier replacements – had to be replaced with matching glass. I did all this work in my shop (garage) out here in Prairie Grove.

All the new leaded panels are now installed, and I’m doing some final spot puttying which will take about five or six days.

For the exterior touch-up I’ll be out on the swing stage (not my favorite place). I’ll get some “vertigo” pictures, and some detail closeups from the swing stage in a couple of days.

Repair and restoration of the stonework will take place over the next few months. To make replacements of previous inferior repairs, stone is being imported from France, cut from the same quarry as the original stone.

This is a real “by the book” conservation effort of which I’m very proud to be a part. The whole project and challenges are unique, as are the solutions. A lot of invention, which I find fascinating. We’re also making full documentation of the project for future restorers and conservators.

I recently unearthed these recordings that my newlywed parents exchanged when my Dad was in the army. Soon after they were married, my Dad was drafted and was in Korea in 1954 when my older sister was born.

To hear my grandmother’s voice, with her unforgettable German accent, brought tears to my eyes. She always got so emotional! As a boy, all I had to do was take out my violin and play a few scratchy notes, and she would be weeping uncontrollably. In her eyes, I could do no wrong, and she was always my best fan.

My Dad died several years ago with Alzheimers disease. I still think about him daily.

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