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Searching for Pieces of the Past
- University Press of Mississippi
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The citizens of Prague were wonderful to the thousands of refugees arriving at the city gates. These people also had just been liberated, so the city's spirits were high. They put us up in a large, very clean hotel in the center of the city and provided us with food stamps and streetcar stamps so we could eat and travel around Prague for free. The first thing I did after we settled in was go to the Conservatory of Music, where they let me use a piano studio, so once again I began to practice my beloved art. One day when I had been in Prague a short while, a friend and I were walking by a beautiful building in the center of the city when we noticed a poster announcing an upcoming performance by the Prague Philharmonic Orchestra. How delighted I was to come upon a concert hall and symphony orchestra after so many years! Since the Polish and Czech languages are quite similar, I was able to learn 125 Searchingforpiecesofthegast Searchingforpiecesofthegast 126 After the Storm from a tall uniformed doorman in front of the concert hall that a rehearsal was in progress. "Who's conducting?" I asked. "Kubelik." "Kubelik's not a conductor," I said. "Kubelik was a violinist— one of the greatest—but he's dead, I believe." "That's right, Jan Kubelik is dead. But his son, Rafael, isn't, and he's the conductor. He's also a great pianist." I did not know anyof this, but then the Germans didn't provide us with radios. When we walked in, the orchestra wasrehearsing Dvorak's Symphony from the New World. After about ten minutes my friend said to me, "Okay, let's go." "You go. I'm staying." I was finally inside a concert hall again, and I did not want to leave without doing something that would help me restart my life in music. When the rehearsal ended, I got up my courage and went backstage. I found Rafael Kubelik and introduced myself. I blurted out that I was a concert pianist, that I had just been liberated, that I had been in the camps for two years, and that I had hardly seen a piano for three years before that. Despite everything, I told him, I had been practicing whenever I could since being liberated and would like to play for him. When I said, "My teacher was Professor Zbigniew Drzewiecki," that did it. "Professor Drzewiecki? A wonderful man! Of course I'd like to hear you play. But not here. Look at our pianos. They're still on their sides with their legs off. We've just been liberated ourselves, you know. The Germans had their orchestra, of course, but ourswas forbidden. I'll tell you what. Why don't you come to my home this Saturday at five. Youcan play for me then." He gave me his address. I could not wait for the days to pass. On Saturday I arrived a little early and had the pleasure of meeting Kubelik's wife while we waited for him to return home. She showed me his father's violin, a beautiful Stradivarius that hung from the ceiling in a glass enclosure . A composition student of Rafael Kubelik, Ilia Hurnik, wasalso there. We warmed up to each other so quickly that he gave me one [3.236.219.157] Project MUSE (2024-03-28 09:49 GMT) Searching for Pieces of the Past 127 of his compositions, which I still have. In such a beautiful home, among this charming company, I started to feel self-conscious about my ill-fitting refugee clothes, given to us by charity organizations. As I sat there waiting for Kubelik, I felt I looked like a clown. When we were liberated, all we had were our striped prisoner uniforms from the camp. So I ended up in somebody else's pants, somebody else's shoes, somebody else's shirt. Nothing really fit. They were all leftover clothes, already worn thin. Kubelik arrived—a magnificent fellow, so tall he created a wind when he walked. He wasall apologies for being late. "All right," he said to me. "Are you ready?" I sat down at the piano and played the Chopin E Minor Concerto from beginning to end. As I played, he never interrupted. From the corner of my eye, I could see him watching and listening to me intently. When I finished, he asked me, "Where is your...