Violin Story Number 2, A Collaboration between Becky and her Brother, Musician, Author and Composer living in Berlin. Story No. 1 appears our Journal.

Jane Allen, Klezmer Violinist-In and Out of Russia 

Being wide eyed and and easygoing with the world is ok if you don't go too far from home. But once you cross borders into countries where people have different customs and laws than you are used too, then you have to watch out. I learned this when I went to Russia. 
Some friends and I practiced Klezmer music together for a few years. I mean, just for fun. It just so happened that my boyfriend, our accordionist; and my neighbor, the flutiest, who just finished her degree in art history, and I had the same three weeks off of work in the summer. We saw an exhibit of Chagall's paintings and were really inspired. So, since we played jewish music and loved art, we decided to go on a kind of Chagall pilgrimage. 

We retraced the main cities where Chagall lived. First we flew to Paris, then went to Berlin; and then we flew to Finland and got on a train to St. Petersburg. We were so excited! The atmosphere on the train going to Russia was like in one of those old movies. While we went across the border of Russia a group of people started to sing russian songs. I knew some of the songs and was not shy about joining in on violin. At first quietly, then louder. The atmosphere in the train wagon just kind of lit up and I had the feeling that the music carried us through Russia, and not the train! After not enough days in St. Petersburg it was time to head home. On the way home, on the same rout that we came, there were no singers and there was no party; just train engineers and border guards controlling who was leaving the country. Of course with an American passport one is very flexible in this world.

But my violin wasn't! The Russian police literally took my violin away from me. Well, I had the choice of staying in Russia with my violin! But they said that without official papers, I couldn't take my violin out of the country. It belonged to Russia. 

I don't know if you realize what that is like. If you play an instrument all your life, that instrument is like a part of your body. So I had to fill out some forms and I could barely see because I was so upset. My allergies were kicking in! I went into Russia drunk with nostalgic music in my head, and I left Russia sober, and with the reality of mess-up politics and border problems. It took months for me to get my violin back. I had to have proof that I did not buy it in Russia. That's my violin story! 

By Paul Brody 

www.paulbrody.net 

We hope you enjoyed the presentation of the violin bags with the stories.If you have any requests for more, we would enjoy the project.