As he begins a busy 2007-08 concert season, Grammy® Award-winning violinist Joshua Bell
is reunited with Pulitzer Prize winning composer John Corigliano for the world premiere recording of The Red Violin Concerto recorded with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra conducted by Marin Alsop.

The release of The Red Violin Concerto follows a seminal year for Bell highlighted not only by his receiving the coveted Avery Fisher Prize, but being the only U.S. musician named by the World Economic Forum as one of the 250 Young Global Leaders, his appointment to the Indiana University’s Jacobs School of Music faculty as a senior lecturer, and the release of The Essential Joshua Bell CD.

In Bell’s concerts and recordings, his bold, charismatic artistry has brought a fresh voice to the most venerable masterpieces while also uncovering lesser known gems and new works. As an exclusive Sony Classical artist who has created a richly varied catalogue, his latest work, The Red Violin Concerto evolved during and after The Red Violin film whose score was composed by John Corigliano. While Corigliano won the Oscar for Best Original Score in 1999 for which Bell performed the violin solos while serving as artistic advisor and body double, Corigliano longed to expand upon the score. He would later compose three additional movements for the seven minute chaconne which was the heart of the soundtrack, and thus was born The Red Violin Concerto. The work was recorded with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra conducted by Marin Alsop. Also on the CD is Corigliano’s Sonata for Violin and Piano with Bell accompanied by pianist Jeremy Denk.

An exclusive Sony Classical artist, Bell continues to win acclaim for his all-Tchaikovsky disc, released in 2005, featuring live performance of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto with Michael Tilson Thomas conducting the Berlin Philharmonic. His exploration into the world of opera and song on Voice of the Violin also received excellent reviews and was a successful follow-up to the violinist’s remarkable reception of Romance of the Violin which Billboard Magazine’s named the 2004 “Classical Album of the Year And Bell the “Classical Artist of the Year” . The CD remained on the charts for more than two years.

After summer performances at Tanglewood, the Verbier Festival in Switzerland and Mostly Mozart at Lincoln Center, Joshua Bell’s 2007-2008 performance season includes concerts with the BBC Proms at London’s Royal Albert Hall, a European tour with Kurt Masur conducting the Orchestre National de France as well as appearances with the Pittsburgh, Philadelphia and Chicago Symphony, the Salzburg Mozarteum Orchestra and the Tonhalle-Orchester. In October, he will premiere a new work written for him by Jay Greenberg with the Orchestra of St. Luke’s at Carnegie Hall. He concludes 2007 – and welcomes 2008 – as the guest soloist with Lorin Maazel and the New York Philharmonic at the annual New Year’s Eve Gala at Lincoln Center. A recital tour with Jeremy Denk takes the pair to Europe and the U.S. including The Kennedy Center and Carnegie Hall. Bell will also tour Europe as a guest soloist with the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields.

For over two decades, Joshua Bell has been captivating audiences worldwide with his poetic musicality. He came to national attention at the age of 14 in a highly acclaimed orchestral debut with Riccardo Muti and the Philadelphia Orchestra. A Carnegie Hall debut, the prestigious Avery Fisher Career Grant and a recording contract further confirmed his presence in the music world. Today he is equally at home as a soloist, chamber musician, and orchestra leader and his restless curiosity and multifaceted musical interests have taken him in exciting new directions, that has earned him the rare title of “classical music superstar.” In addition to his concert career, Bell enjoys chamber music collaborations with artists such as Pamela Frank, Steven Isserlis and Edgar Meyer as well as occasional collaborations with artists outside the classical arena, having shared the stage with Josh Groban, James Taylor and Sting.

“Bell,” Gramophone stated simply, “is dazzling.”

Joshua Bell made his first recording at the age of 18, and he has an extensive catalogue of classical recordings resulting in a distinctive and wide-ranging body of work.

From the classical repertoire, Bell has made critically acclaimed recordings for Sony Classical of the concertos of Beethoven and Mendelssohn (both featuring his own cadenzas), and Sibelius and Goldmark, as well as the Grammy Award winning Nicholas Maw concerto. His Grammy-nominated recording Gershwin Fantasy premiered a new work for violin and orchestra based on themes from Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. Its success led to an all-Bernstein recording (also a Grammy nominee) that included the premiere of the West Side Story Suite as well as a new recording of the composer’s Serenade. With the composer and double bass virtuoso Edgar Meyer, Bell appears on the Grammy-nominated crossover recording Short Trip Home and a disc of concert works by Meyer and the 19th-century composer Giovanni Bottesini. Bell also collaborated with Wynton Marsalis on the Grammy-winning spoken word children’s album, Listen to the Storyteller and Bela Fleck’s Grammy Award winning Perpetual Motion. He has twice performed on the Grammy Awards telecast in recent years, performing music from Short Trip Home and West Side Story Suite.

Bell has also won the Mercury Music Prize for the Maw concerto recording with Sir Roger Norrington and the London Philharmonic Orchestra, and Germany’s Echo Klassik for Sibelius/Goldmark concerto recording with Esa-Pekka Salonen and the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra. He received the Gramophone Award for his recording of the Barber and Walton violin concertos and Bloch’s Baal Shem.

With more than 30 CDs recorded, Bell’s performances for Sony Classical film soundtracks include the Classical Brit-nominated Ladies in Lavender and Academy Award-winning film Iris, in an original score by James Horner. Bell has also appeared as himself in the film Music of the Heart starring Meryl Streep, and millions of people are just as likely to see him on Late Night with Conan O’Brien, The Tonight Show, CBS’ Sunday Morning and The Today Show as the PBS programs Great Performances—Joshua Bell: West Side Story Suite from Central Park, Joshua Bell at the Penthouse—Live From Lincoln Center, Memorial Day Concert, Sesame Street and A&E’s Biography. He was one of the first classical artists to have a music video air on VH1, and he has been the subject of a BBC Omnibus documentary. Bell has been profiled in publications ranging from Newsweek to People Magazine’s 50 Most Beautiful People issue, Gramophone and The New York Times, which stated, “Mr. Bell doesn’t stand in anyone’s shadow.”

Bell and his two sisters grew up on a farm in Bloomington, Indiana. As a child, he indulged in many passions outside of music, becoming an avid computer game player and a competitive athlete. He placed fourth in a national tennis tournament at age 10 and still keeps his racquet close by. Bell received his first violin at age four after his parents, both psychologists by profession, noticed him plucking tunes with rubber bands he had stretched around the handles of his dresser drawers. By 12 he was serious about the instrument, thanks in large part to the inspiration of renowned violinist and pedagogue Josef Gingold, who had become his beloved teacher and mentor.

In 1989, Bell received an Artist Diploma in Violin Performance from Indiana University. His alma mater also honored him with a Distinguished Alumni Service Award only two years after his graduation. He has been named an “Indiana Living Legend” and received the Indiana Governor’s Arts Award. In ’05 he was inducted into the Hollywood Bowl Hall of Fame. Bell currently serves on the Artist Committee of the Kennedy Center Honors.

Joshua Bell plays the 1713 Gibson ex Huberman Stradivarius.

HISTORY OF JOSHUA'S VIOLIN

THE GIBSON STRADIVARIUS: FROM HUBERMAN TO BELL

The Gibson Stradivarius, one of the world's great violins, is now
owned and played by Joshua Bell. In 1985 this instrument resided incognito
for months in the Danbury home of Edward Wicks, where its "owner"
Julian Altman, who was on his way to jail, had brought it for safekeeping.
Within months of his imprisonment, Altman was near death from stomach
cancer. On his deathbed, according to his wife, he divulged that the violin
he had played for nearly 50 years was the Gibson Stradivarius that had
been stolen in 1936 from the Polish violinist Bronislaw Huberman. The
fascinating story of the Gibson Stradivarius has been told before.

Here, for the first time, is the complete story, including the important
part that Edward Wicks played as a guardian for the violin on its journey
to Joshua Bell. A somewhat shorter version of this story was published
in the Danbury News-Times on April 18, 2004. In my research, I was able
to confirm some facts previously uncertain (for example, that Altman had
indeed played with the National Symphony). As a former research librarian,
I am confident that this is as close to the "real story" as
one can get at this time.

-- Jim Pegolotti

Librarian Emeritus, Western Connecticut State University

The Theft

The violins produced and shaped by the hands of Antonio Stradivari (1644-1737)
have never been bettered, and since only some 600 of the 1100 Stradivarius
instruments (mainly violins, but also violas and cellos) remain, the possession
of one of these instruments is an absorbing ambition for some violinists.
The traditional way to gain a Stradivarius is by purchase, but there is
another method --- by thievery. This tactic occurred during a concert
at Carnegie Hall on Friday evening, February 28, 1936, when the Gibson
Stradivarius (named for an earlier owner) disappeared from the Carnegie
Hall dressing room of its then owner, the Polish violinist Bronislaw Huberman
(1882-1947). It happened while the violinist was on stage performing and
playing his other exceptional violin, a Guarnerius.

After intermission, Huberman's secretary noticed the Stradivarius was
missing from its case in the dressing room. It was "déjà
vu all over again" because once before the violin had been stolen
from Huberman in 1919 in Vienna, but was returned in only a few weeks.
Rushing to the wings, the secretary got word to Huberman about the missing
violin before the concert was over. Huberman, knowing the violin was insured,
told her to call the police immediately, probably hoping for a result
like that in Vienna --- a quick recovery. The police descended upon Carnegie
Hall, but in spite of a lengthy investigation, the Gibson Stradivarius
did not reappear. Lloyds of London, its insurer, eventually paid Huberman
$30,000 (£8000), the then value of the violin, and thereby becoming
the violin's owner should it ever resurface. For the 51 years that followed
the theft, the Gibson Stradivarius simply vanished.

How Edward Wicks Came to Danbury and Became a Luthier

On Saturday, the day after the violin's disappearance from Carnegie Hall
in 1936, twelve-year-old Edward Wicks was helping in his father's welding
shop near their home in Flushing, Queens. The Wicks family was musically
attuned with Mrs. Wicks playing the piano and her husband making valiant
attempts on the French horn. Young Ed also had taken piano lessons, but
had more fun learning to play the mandolin. With such musical interest,
very likely the family was intrigued that morning with the two articles
in the New York Times, both on the same page: one was a review of
the Huberman concert, while the other headlined "Huberman Violin Stolen
At Carnegie."

As years passed and the family business grew on Long Island, Ed found
that he had inherited his father's innate sense of inventiveness and tinkering.
It was a gift that would lead him in the second half of his life to become
a luthier, a repairer of bowed stringed instruments. That happened after
he married Ann Martinus. In 1950, the entire Wicks family, metal working
business and all, moved to Danbury, where Ed remained part of the family
business.

Ann, a singer trained at Julliard, brought a major musical influence
into the family's home, an enormous building in southern Danbury on the
Redding line that became known as Wicks Manor. But it was John Burnett,
a violinist who came to the Danbury area in 1936, who sent Ed off in a
direction that would ultimately bring the Gibson Stradivarius to his home.

John Burnett in 1946 became the conductor of the Danbury Symphony, then
known as the Danbury Orchestral Society. The short, prominent-chinned
Burnett, an excellent violinist who had studied at Julliard and the Royal
Belgian Conservatory, energized the Danbury area musically; he was both
an influential teacher and conductor. Of lasting importance was his initiation
in 1957 of a training orchestra, the Danbury Little Symphony, now the
Danbury Community Orchestra. Not unexpectedly, many in the orchestra were
his own string students.

When Ed and Ann determined that their 8-year-old daughter Joan should
learn to play the violin, John Burnett became her teacher and he came
to know Ed better. Sensing musical gifts yet undeveloped, Burnett convinced
him to learn to play the cello. From his basement, the teacher unearthed
a "rough and chewed-up" cello for his soon-to-be protégé.
Ed recalls that Burnett could almost be a martinet in his demands on his
students, particularly if he believed they had not practiced sufficiently
since the last lesson. Even as an adult, Wicks felt the pressure of Burnett
and practiced incessantly. Within six-months of first pulling a bow across
the cello strings, Ed was playing in the Danbury Symphony.

At the same time, Ed began to tinker with the "rough and chewed-up"
cello. With advice from Burnett, he took it apart and put it back together
in far finer condition than before, yet all by "trial, error, and
common sense." So it was that Ed Wicks in his late thirties began
to repair stringed instruments, encouraged by Burnett who told him that
to become a luthier would help save what was rapidly becoming a lost art.
Many of the violinists in the Danbury Symphony were teachers in high school
and welcomed Ed as advisor and repairer.

Fortunately for Wicks, he had the opportunity to examine Burnett's violin,
one of the fine violins from the "Golden Age" of violin making
in post Renaissance Cremona. Here in this town on the Po River plain of
Lombardy, artisans named Amati, Stradivari, and Guarnieri produced great
violins, violas, and cellos. Burnett's violin was created by Girolamo
Amati (1561-1630), whose son Nicola passed on the family violin-making
secrets to his student Antonio Stradivari, who then added his own varnish
secrets. Many fingers had plucked Burnett's Amati, but none more famous
than those of Benito Mussolini, a former owner of the violin.

When Ed and Ann built a new home near Wicks Manor, Ed set aside a room
for his new avocation and began to advertise in the yellow pages under
"Musical Instrument Repair." It was this ad in 1983 that caught
the eye of Julian Altman. The previous year he had moved to nearby Bethel
and needed some work on the violin that had been the source of his income
for decades.

Altman, who had studied at Julliard, in the late 1930s had moved from
his native New York City to Washington, D.C. From 1940 to 1944 he was
a member of the National Symphony, but later made his money more as a
strolling musician, gaining popularity as an entertainer for political
events. After a failed marriage and never able to generate a lot of savings,
Altman continued to live in the Washington area. There he met Marcelle
Hall, a divorcee from Bethel with two grown children, who was working
for a social service department in Maryland. They lived together from
1970 on. Then in 1982 they moved to a home Marcelle owned in Bethel, a
residue from her previous marriage.

The First Incognito Visit of The Gibson Stradivarius

When Ed Wicks responded to a knock on the door of his Danbury home one
day in the summer of 1983, he didn't recognize the visitor. The stranger
introduced himself: "I'm Julian Altman---Altman, like the department
store. I saw your ad in the yellow pages as a violin repairer." Wicks
recalls the event in detail. "The man appeared to be quite nervous.
At one time he had two different cigarettes going at the same time."
Altman took his violin out of the case and indicated it needed a new bridge
and a slight opening on the side seam needed attention. He also needed
two bows rehaired.

Wicks immediately noticed that the violin's surface areas --- a light
chestnut color with a reddish hue---showed signs of a violin well utilized.
As soon as he took Altman's violin into his hands, its overall form, its
feel and weight, sent his thoughts whirling. He looked closer for a signature,
then seeing it, spoke excitedly to Altman: "My God, this is a Stradivarius."
The visitor quickly responded. "On no, just a copy. I've had it since
I was a young man." Wicks was not convinced by the answer, but could
hardly challenge the stranger, so he indicated he could do the necessary
repairs, but it would take about three days.

Hearing this, the nervous man walked about the room, seeming to decide
what to do. He spotted a framed copy of a patent just assigned to Wicks
that very year. A brisk discussion about the invention seemed to reduce
Altman's nervousness, and he started to divulge some of his history. He
told of being a New Yorker and that some of his early adventures were
as a musician on radio, where he and his sister, Sylvia, often played
on radio station WOR in the late 1930s as a violin duo.

Altman finally agreed to leave the violin for the necessary work. Over
the next few days Wicks fit the new bridge, repaired the open seam near
the neck, and rehaired the bows.

Several days later, when Altman returned for the violin he immediately
picked it up, put rosin on a bow, and ran through a few cadenzas to test
it out. Altman's playing made it clear to Wicks that he was in the presence
of a fine violinist. Wicks suffered through the next moments, worrying
about the results of his repairs, for he still believed that this was
no ordinary violin. Altman's reaction was not long in coming. The violinist
stopped in mid-phrase, looked directly at Wicks and said: "My God,
what did you do?" Ed's heart went into mild arrhythmia for a moment,
but Altman quickly added: "It never has sounded this beautiful"
and he strolled around the living room delighted with what he heard. (During
the time that Altman played the violin, Ann Wicks had remained upstairs.
After he had left, she came down. "Ed," she asked, "what
was that? It sounded absolutely gorgeous." "Well," Ed replied,
"I think what you just heard was a Stradivarius.")

Before Altman left, Wicks told him about the Danbury Symphony, in which
he played, and invited him to join. The violinist indicated that he would,
and Wicks promised to bring him to the next symphony rehearsal and introduce
him to James Humphreville, the conductor. Altman did enter the Danbury
Symphony and sat next to the concertmaster. At times he helped instruct
the section in a variety of techniques and bowing.

According to Wicks, Altman was a charming man and a good conversationalist.
Linked by their musical interests, Ann and Ed occasionally went out to
lunch or dinner with Altman and Marcelle Hall, who though not his wife
appeared on the surface to be just that. As fate would have it, the socialization
would last less than two years. Early in 1985, while at dinner in a local
Chinese restaurant, Altman complained often of stomach pains. Those physical
pains became secondary to the agony that Hall brought upon him when she
had him arrested for sexually molesting one of her granddaughters. The
arrest and date for sentencing were kept out of the local papers, leaving
the musical community unaware of what was to come.

The Second, and Longer, Visit to Ed Wicks of the Still Incognito Gibson
Stradivarius

On March 20, 1985, Altman appeared at the Wicks' home, not with the single
violin case of two years before, but with a double violin case containing
two violins: the one that Ed had worked on and another. He also had a
sealed cardboard box about a foot square. Ed provided the following receipt:
"Holding for Julian Altman: one double violin case, two violins and
four bows. One cardboard carton containing men's jewelry, cuff links,
coins, gems, rings, watch and various items of jewelry." Altman's
instructions to Ed were to hold onto the violins and box until further
notice, and not to let anyone know he had them. He then divulged to Ed
the story of his arrest and that in six days he would be sentenced. Wicks
agreed not to say anything to anyone until the story broke.

Then in a surprise move, Julian and Marcelle flew to Las Vegas and were
married on March 24, 1985. Upon their return, on March 26 Altman pleaded
guilty to the charge of risk of injury to a minor in Danbury Superior
Court, thus avoiding trial. He was sentenced to a year of incarceration,
and taken to the Bridgeport jail on North Avenue.

To make her first visit to the man who was now her husband, Marcelle
asked Wicks to drive her to the jail because she didn't know how to get
there herself. Ed remembers the trip and the dejected face of Altman in
the brief time he had to speak to him. In the car, on the return trip
to the Danbury area, Marcelle repeated over and over: "Oh, that Julian.
If I ever knew where that violin is." Ed said nothing.

On April 9, 1985, Altman wrote to Ed and informed him that he had been
moved to the Litchfield jail where he found his new quarters "more
tolerable than before---thus giving me a better incentive to 'last-it-out'
and to 'come through it all'-per your advice…In any case, I always
think of you as a very close, sincere and treasured friend."

Not long afterward, Altman's chance to "last-it-out" vanished
with the diagnosis of stomach cancer in terminal stage. Word got to Ed
about Altman, now moved to a guarded area of a Torrington hospital, where
he was allowed only incoming calls. Wicks called him several times during
Altman's final weeks of life. In one call, the ailing prisoner asked Ed
to get him a lawyer. He complained a great deal about how Marcelle continually
questioned him to find out where the violin was, in a manner Altman referred
to as "vicious."

As Marcelle would reveal almost two years later, just days before he
died Altman told her that the violin was indeed a Stradivarius. She would
find corroboration of its being the one stolen from Huberman in material
between the violin case and its canvas cover. He then told her that Ed
Wicks had the violin.

Marcelle soon called Wicks and indicated she would come to get the violin.
Ed wasn't so sure that he should give her the double violin case, with
its two violins and bows, so he called the prison and spoke to the dying
man. Altman told him that, yes, he should give the violins to Marcelle.
Within a few days, Marcelle claimed the double violin case. She would
later declare that at some point after retrieving the violin she looked
under the canvas cover of the violin case and discovered the material
about the Huberman theft: newspaper clippings from 1936 about the theft,
and a portion of an article from the 1977 September edition of Strad
magazine, with the story of the stolen violin highlighted in pink.

Julian Altman died on August 12, 1985 and was cremated. Marcelle, declared
executrix of the estate, delayed a funeral service at St. James Episcopal
Church in Danbury until November 2nd, which was followed by the burial
in a Bethel cemetery. She sent a personal invitation to Ed and Ann to
attend, which they did. At the service a violin lay on the altar. When
Ed went to view the violin, he saw that it was definitely not the one
he had worked on. As would later be revealed, Marcelle, soon after her
husband's death, had contacted a lawyer, a cousin in Norwalk, and brought
the violin to experts to confirm it as being a Stradivarius.

Altman's Widow Announces The "Truth" About the Violin

For nearly two years after Altman's death Ed Wicks would hear no more
about the violin, but much was happening. Once experts verified it as
the Gibson Stradivarius, Marcelle Hall and lawyers then spent over a year
negotiating with Lloyds of London, the violin's owner, for a finder's
fee. Lloyds ultimately agreed that upon the sale of the cleaned and restored
Gibson they would provide Marcelle Hall with one-quarter of the violin's
value. They chose the prestigious firm J. and A. Beare Ltd. of London
to restore the Stradivarius.

On May 8, 1987, with the Lloyds agreement reached, champagne flowed at
Hall's Bethel home in a party that "had been in progress more or
less since the previous evening." An NBC television crew had been
summoned to help break the story of the return to the musical world of
the Gibson Stradivarius. Charles Beare, representing Beare Ltd., arrived
in a limousine, along with two of Lloyds' lawyers, and got his first look
at the long-lost violin that they were to take back to England. Later
that year he described the event in an article for Strad magazine:
"As I lifted the violin from its case, I didn't appreciate that Mrs.
Hall and her friends and family were still in doubt about the violin's
identity. Very slowly I said 'No ---- problem', and it turned out that
in the second or two between the two words Mrs. Hall almost died with
disappointment. After that there was joy all round." On May 12, the
News-Times published "This Violin Had Strings Attached,"
a lengthy story about the Gibson with comments from Hall about her life
with Altman. Two days later the New York Times featured a front-page
story, "A Stolen Stradivarius, a 51-Year-Old Secret," along
with a photo of Altman serenading Muriel Humphrey, Senator Hubert Humphrey's
wife.

When Ed Wicks read the reports of the violin's true origins, he recalled
the day when he said to Altman, "My God, this is a Stradivarius."
Seeing the violin displayed on several television programs, he immediately
recognized it as the violin he had worked on and later guarded, for the
bridge of the violin bore his signature touches.

In that summer of 1987, on the 250th anniversary of the death of Antonio
Stradivari, the city of Cremona presented a six-week display of 48 Stradivarius
stringed instruments. Charles Beare helped organize the event, which included
Izthak Perlman's Soil Stradvarius. Near it, the newly restored Gibson
made its first appearance, viewed with special interest by Marcelle Hall,
who had traveled to Italy especially to see the violin and celebrate its
return to the musical world.

Norbert Brainin, a British violinist and a member of the highly esteemed
Amadeus Quartet, purchased the Gibson Stradivarius soon after. On February
26, 1988, Marcelle Hall received from Lloyds of London her finder's fee:
$263,475.75

A Legal Battle Over the Finder's Fee

What happened next led to years of litigation. Sherry Altman Schoenwetter,
Altman's daughter by his first marriage, had occasion to review an accounting
of her father's estate made to the Bethel probate court by Marcelle Hall,
the executrix. Schoenwetter formally objected to the omission from her
father's estate of the finder's fee. On October 11, 1991, after a hearing
at which both Hall and Schoenwetter testified, Daniel W. O'Grady, the
Bethel probate judge, ruled that Hall had to return the money to the estate.
He stated that it was not for the court to rule on whether or not Altman
had stolen the violin for "Altman never made clear to anyone how
he came to possess the Gibson." The court had only to rule on whether
Marcelle had correctly carried out her duties as executrix of Altman's
estate. According to O'Grady, "The Gibson was part of Altman's personal
property. Therefore, the violin as well as the right to any finder's fee
passed to the Altman's estate at his death." He also ruled that Hall
had to add 10% interest to the estate's value for every year since she
had received the money.

Hall's lawyer then appealed the case to the Superior Court in Danbury.
There Marcelle testified that her husband in the last days of his life
had indeed told her how he came to possess the Gibson. First he told her
that he had purchased it from a friend for $100. Then, closer to his death,
Altman admitted he was the thief, executing a plan he and his adoring
mother had concocted to bring him a violin necessary for his talent to
be appreciated. They lived near Carnegie Hall, and he played music in
the Russian Bear, a restaurant behind the auditorium. He had made friends
with the stage door guards and would often give them cigars and tell them
he'd guard the door while they stepped out for a smoke. During one of
these times (and during a break from playing in the restaurant), he ran
upstairs, grabbed the violin, and exited, hiding it under his Russian
peasant outfit. Hall admitted to the Superior Court that she had told
the insurance company only the first story (that Altman purchased the
violin for $100) and not the second one (that her husband was the thief).

Judge T. Clark Hull of the Superior Court supported the probate court's
decision that the violin was part of the estate. Pulling no punches, he
stated that Altman's wife by keeping the finder's fee herself had committed
a "diabolical deed" equivalent "to an unlawful theft of
the estate's property." The decision was released on October 3, 1995.
Hall's lawyers then appealed to the Connecticut Supreme Court. Fifteen
months later on December 31, 1996, the five justices, in a 4-1 ruling,
supported the original Bethel probate court. Here the legal battle ended,
but by now Hall owed the estate a half million dollars in principal and
interest.

On March 18, 1997, nearly ten years after Hall had received the finder's
fee, she declared herself broke. The News-Times reported that she
was now living in Claremont, New Hampshire. "There's no money,"
she stated. "How will they get money from me? I'm living on my Social
Security. There's no victory here." According to Schoenwetter's attorney,
Christopher Donohue, his client did not receive "one red cent"
as a result of all the litigation.

Marcelle Hall died on June 18, 2001. The Claremont Eagle Times
obituary, ostensibly written by Hall's family, made no mention of Julian
Altman. Hall had divorced her first husband in 1970, but in the obituary
her married life was summed up as follows: "She was predeceased by
her husband, Robert Samuel Hall, who died in 1986."

Joshua Bell Gains Possession of the Gibson Stradivarius

Joshua Bell now owns and plays the Gibson Stradivarius. As Bell, 36, moved
up through the ranks of violinists to reach the top of his art, much of
that time he owned and performed on another Stradivarius, the "Tom
Tyler," the violin he played for the musical score of the movie "The
Red Violin." His desire to own the Gibson came after he had had the
opportunity to sample its sound when he appeared in a concert with Norbert
Brainin. Brainin graciously allowed Bell to play a bit on the Gibson he
then owned. As Bell stated in an interview years later, "I thought
it was the most amazing sounding violin I'd ever heard." The owner,
seeing Bell's reaction, jokingly said: "Maybe someday you'll have
this violin. Well, if you can come up with $4 million."

As fate would have it, in August 2001, Bell stopped at Beare's London
office and learned that Brainin was about to sell the Gibson, not to a
violinist, but to a German industrialist. "I was practically in tears,"
Bell recalled. Determined to own the Gibson, he contacted Brainin and
within a few days had negotiated a price. To gain the necessary funds,
he sold the Tom Taylor Stradivarius for a bit more than $2 million, and
then managed to come up with the additional amount needed. Was it worth
it? Well, his recording made with the Gibson Stradivarius is now the current
best selling CD in classical music. Considering the history of the violin
heard on the recording, the title is quite appropriate: "Romance
of the Violin."

Some Reflections On The Rediscovery Of The Gibson Stradivarius

Ed Wicks often thinks back on those days when he worked on the Gibson
Stradivarius, but he remains puzzled about a key point of Marcelle Hall's
testimony: that she discovered materials about the Huberman theft somewhere
between the violin case and its canvas cover. In the court case brought
by Altman's daughter, Marcelle Hall exhibited the materials: newspapers
clippings dated Feb. 19, 1936 and the Strad magazine. Wicks can't
believe he would not have noted the presence of newspaper clippings and
a magazine article should they have been present in the double violin
case left with him.

At the trial, what was presented as evidence was not the double violin
case in which she had picked up the violin from Wicks, but "a leather
case enclosed in a zippered protective canvas sheath," undoubtedly
a case for a single violin. Altman's daughter recalls her father storing
his violin in a single, not a double case. If Hall did discover the materials
in a violin case, it would not have been in the double case that Ed Wicks
describes. Where did she find them? Perhaps they were in a single violin
case that he had left at home after he went to jail, or even in the sealed
container.

How much credence could be put on any of Hall's testimonies? Consider
the following. Cathy Mears, one of Hall's nieces began collaboration with
her aunt in 1991 to produce a book about the reappearance of the Gibson
Stradivarius. In court testimony, Mears stated that she ceased working
with her aunt on the project as a result of "two inconsistencies
in the story about the manner in which Julian Altman acquired the violin
told to her on various occasions by Marcelle Hall." In an interesting
addendum, Mears testified that "throughout the entire period of the
collaboration, Marcelle Hall maintained that Julian Altman stole the violin."

Could it be that Hall knew that the violin was a Stradivarius for some
time before Altman's death? It isn't that Altman wasn't playing his own
game at times. For example, a friend of Altman's told a Washington
Post reporter in 1987: "Julian would tell people that his violin
was a Stradivarius, and they would just laugh at him. They thought he
was kidding." Also a letter in the court file indicates that Altman's
sister, Sylvia, had known of the theft from a recording she accidentally
stumbled across. In it Altman and his mother discussed the theft. Hall
could have gained the truth of the violin from Altman, even from pillow
talk. After all they had been together for 17 years before his death.

All speculation aside, Ed Wicks can help correct another error found
in several recent articles about the Gibson's appearance when it resurfaced
in 1985: that the violin was covered with "shoe polish," ostensibly
to camouflage its true identity. Wicks states categorically that nothing
like "shoe polish" was on the violin when he turned it over
to Hall. Here is probably how the "shoe polish" story arose.
When Charles Beare came to Bethel on May 8, 1985 to view and receive the
violin for Beare Ltd, he made notes of the event. Later, in the Strad
magazine article (December 1987), he described the Gibson Strad when he
first saw it in Bethel:

"Out in the better light of the garden, away from the crowd and
the popping champagne corks, I had a good look at Huberman's remarkable
violin. In 1911, when the young virtuoso purchased it, Alfred Hill of
W. E. Hill and Sons wrote 'The red varnish is in a pure state, as applied
by the maker.' Now you could barely see it, submerged as it was beneath
layer upon layer of dirt and polish. . . .Nevertheless the violin was
clearly a masterpiece, and in the pale sunlight its handsome wood and
red varnish glowed reassuringly."

Probably a reporter decided to add "shoe" to Beare's "polish"
reference. In this way are mysteries compounded. In fact, this story has
enough mysterious aspects so that no more need be added.

Will it ever be known how Altman acquired the Gibson Stradivarius and
when Hall came to know of it? It's very unlikely. The truth is buried
now in Claremont, New Hampshire and in Bethel, Connecticut with the two
major players of the story.

The writer thanks Edward and Ann Wicks, Sherry Altman, Roseann Billeas
of the Danbury Superior Court Law Library, Wayne McElreavy, who supplied
the Hall obituary, and Ladd Library of Bates College for the loan of the
book "Capolavori di Antonio Stradivari" by Charles Beare.

© James Pegolotti July 26, 2004

THE "GIBSON" STRAD OF 1713

Antonio Stradivari: The Cremona Exhibition of 1987 by Charles Beare

This violin, of flat, masculine build, an outstanding concert instrument,
is famous for having been stolen from the Polish virtuoso violinist Bronislaw
Huberman at Carnegie Hall, in New York, in 1936. Huberman had played a
concert on his Guarneri, and on returning to his dressing room discovered
that his treasured Stradivari had disappeared. No trace of it was found
until spring of 1987, when it was offered to Lloyd's of London, the legal
owners, by the widow of Julian Altman, a cafe violinist who claimed to
have bought it for a modest sum the day after the theft.

W. E. Hill and Sons purchased the violin in the nineteenth century from
an old French family, subsequently selling it to Alfred Gibson, a prominent
English violinist who also owned one of the Stradivari violas exhibited
in Cremona. In 1911 it returned to Hills and was sold to Huberman, at
which time Alfred Hill wrote that "the fine red varnish which covers it
is in a pure state as applied by the maker". Three months before the opening
of the exhibition the varnish was almost unrecognizably submerged beneath
layers of dark grime and shellac, but after a minor restoration and a
very careful clean-up at J and A Beare it duly took its place, its deep
red colour once more revealed for all to admire.

The violin's tone turned out to be absolutely outstanding, and in February
1988 it was sold by J and A Beare, acting on behalf of Lloyd's, to the
well-known violinist Norbert Brainin, formerly of the Amadeus Quartet.

Copyright Text (c) Charles Beare 1993

 

A FAMED VIOLIN'S FANTASTIC JOURNEY

Long-lost Stradivarius strikes a chord in heart of modern master

10/28/2001

By Mark Wrolstad / The Dallas Morning News

The mystique of the name Stradivarius has resonated beyond classical music
for generations, finding a place in the popular imagination and even urban
legend.

You don't have to know a violin from a viola to know the stories - some
apocryphal - about one of the exquisitely rare instruments turning up
in an attic or junk shop.

Now add another stanza to what may be the most contorted tale of all the
world's prized violins - a masterwork lost for half a century, today in
the hands of a new master.

Joshua Bell, the young superstar violinist who played the solos for a
movie about a violin's travels through the ages, took his role in the
true-life version this month by paying nearly $4 million for the famed
Gibson Stradivarius, which is nearly three centuries old.

Dealers in Dallas who work for the leading restorer and seller of stringed
instruments helped complete the sale.

"I instantaneously fell in love with the instrument like I never have
before with a violin," Mr. Bell, 33, said Friday from his home in New
York. "This is like a dream come true."

Mr. Bell, hailed for his lyric musicianship and varied musical interests
that have made him an international crossover hit, bought a violin whose
history is almost as dark as the grime that covered it when the instrument
resurfaced after a deathbed confession in 1985.

The Strad - a conversational abbreviation in concert and collector circles
for violins made by Antonius Stradivarius - has been stolen twice, last
disappearing from New York's Carnegie Hall in 1936.

Even after a cafe musician, dying in jail, admitted he had the stolen
violin all those years, an insurer's payment to get it back led to litigation
between the thief's heirs.

"It's a bit ironic that he's buying an instrument with so much intrigue
surrounding it," said Michael Selman, general manager of JandA Beare Ltd.
in Dallas, the company that sold the violin for well-known British violinist
Norbert Brainin.

"If the movie The Red Violin hadn't been made, this would have been the
one to write a book about," Mr. Selman said of the 1999 film in which
Mr. Bell played the music.

Among the yarns of famous violins reappearing, Mr. Selman said, "This
is the story, and it involves one of the very fine violins in the world."

This one was constructed in 1713, during what's known as the Golden Period
- when Stradivarius made instruments renowned for unequaled tone.

The violin later became known as the Gibson Strad, taking its name from
early owner Alfred Gibson, as is customary for valued instruments.

Of the more than 1,100 violins made during Stradivarius' lifetime, about
half are thought to still exist. (Through the centuries, manufacturers
around the world usurped the famous name, producing hundreds of thousands
of violins stamped "Stradivarius" - explaining all of those garage-sale
discoveries.)

Ninety years ago, the Gibson Strad was owned by Polish virtuoso Bronislaw
Huberman, from whom it was stolen twice.

In 1919, the violin was taken from his hotel room in Vienna but was quickly
returned after the thief supposedly offered it to a dealer.

The next time, Mr. Huberman didn't get it back.

He was on stage at Carnegie Hall in 1936 when the violin was stolen from
his dressing room.

Eventually, he accepted a full settlement of about $30,000 from the insurer,
Lloyd's of London.

For the next 51 years, the violin was officially missing, though it apparently
frequented cafes and clubs in the New York area with a violinist named
Julian Altman.

Its trail went undetected until 1987 when a 69-year-old widow with an
evolving story contacted Lloyd's about the long-lost violin.

Marcelle Hall said Mr. Altman had revealed his lifelong secret in 1985
while dying of stomach cancer: He bought the Gibson Strad for $100 the
day after a friend stole it from Carnegie Hall.

Mr. Altman died at age 70 shortly after he and Ms. Hall were married.

Lloyd's agreed to pay Ms. Hall a finder's fee of $263,475 - one-quarter
of its value.

A half-century of filth was lifted from the Strad - "like taking dirt
off the Sistine Chapel," Mr. Bell said - and in 1988, the insurer sold
it to Mr. Brainin for $1.2 million.

Nearly a decade later, Mr. Altman's daughter, Sherry Schoenwetter, gave
up trying to get her share of Ms. Hall's payment. The Connecticut Supreme
Court ruled in 1996 that Ms. Hall should have included the money in her
husband's estate.

But Ms. Hall had spent the small fortune and had few assets left.

The lengthy court fight did elicit from Ms. Hall a second detailed account
of the stolen Strad.

She testified that Mr. Altman confessed to stealing the violin in a plot
concocted with his mother and that she found old newspaper stories about
the theft in the violin case.

Mr. Altman, who was known around Carnegie Hall, had ducked out of his
job with a gypsy orchestra at the nearby Russian Bear cafe, Ms. Hall said.
He diverted a security guard with a fine cigar, went to the dressing room
and hid the violin under his coat, she said. A trial judge described the
testimony as "more dramatic than the most contrived TV mystery show."

Chris Donohue, Ms. Schoenwetter's attorney, said Ms. Hall's story was
"probably true," but his client was never paid. "Not one red cent."

About the time the litigation ended, Mr. Bell appeared at a concert with
Mr. Brainin and had his first encounter with the violin that one day would
be his.

"He let me play a few notes, and I thought it was the most amazing-sounding
violin I'd ever heard," Mr. Bell said.

He recalled the owner's joking response: "Maybe someday you'll have this
violin. Well, if you can come up with $4 million."

Five years later, they met again - Mr. Bell and the Gibson Strad, that
is.

In August, he stopped at Beare's London office and found that it was about
to be sold to a German industrialist.

"It made me nauseous, the thought of that," he said.

He put the violin to his chin again and played. "I was practically in
tears, and I said, 'You cannot take this violin.' "

Mr. Bell talked with Mr. Brainin. Negotiations took just two days.

"Which is very unusual," Mr. Bell said. "You usually spend months trying
to make sure it's the right violin.

"I could only go so far with price, and I think he liked the fact that
I'd be playing his violin."

Mr. Bell had to sell an old friend, his 1732 Strad, the one he played
for the Oscar-winning score of The Red Violin.

The escalating market for Strads quickly brought him more than $2 million
from a collector who will lend the violin to a young performer.

The Gibson Strad, it so happens, has a "glorious varnish" that's "extremely
red."

"It's ironic for me that I'm ending up with the red violin," Mr. Bell
said.

It will be with him from now on, his performance violin on stage and in
the studio, he said, making the promise of countless love affairs.

"Always."

Reprinted with permission of The Dallas Morning News.

 

THE TOM TAYLOR STRAD OF 1732

This example is one which is quite famous in our country, having long
been owned by the eminent violinist Jacques Gordon, formerly
concertmaster of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, head of a string
quartet which bears his name, and of recent years head of the violin
department at Eastman College of Music of the University of Rochester.
(Gordon acquired one of the "de Rougemont" Strads of 1703 in 1944).

The history of the instrument is recorded from the time that it was in
possession of Dr. Camidge, organist of York Minster, presumably John Camidge
(there were a number of organists in his family) who received the Degree
of Doctor of Music in 1819. In 1837 the violin was acquired by the Reverend
William Flower who in his time owned several Stradivari instruments. During
the sojourn of Louis Spohr in England, he used the violin when he appeared
as soloist at a Musical Festival held at Norwich in 1839. At the death
of Reverend Flower, the violin passed to his grandson, Tom Taylor, by
whose name it has since been recorded. His wife (nÈe Laura Wilson Barker)
was a fine musician, a composer, and a finely gifted and highly accomplished
player of the piano as well as the violin. She played with such artists
as Spohr and Paganini. The violin remained in her possession after the
death of Tom Taylor, until her death at Coleshill, Buckinghamshire, England,
may 22, 1905 at the advanced age of eighty-five. Inherited by her daughter,
Lucy, it was purchased from her by a German, passing from him to the collection
of the Berlin dealer Hammig. Erich Lachmann purchased it from Hammig in
1927 and brought it to the U.S.A. in 1928. Subsequently it became part
of the Wurlitzer Collection. Documents which accompanied the violin included
some letters from Lucy Taylor which contained reference to her mother's
violin; these include information that as a girl of thirteen Laura Wilson
Barker played with Paganini and later with Spohr, who suggested her coming
to Cassel as his pupil. Joachim was also a friend and often played on
the violin, and an interesting anecdote is related in the following, contained
in one of the letters mentioned:

"Once when Madame Joachim, the famous prima donna, was staying with Mrs.
Tom Taylor, the Professor arrived and found his wife singing to a distinguished
audience there. In the middle of a song, a servant rushed in and informed
her mistress that the top story of the house was ablaze. Even for this,
Mrs. Taylor would not have the great singer interrupted, but Professor
Joachim was alarmed for the safety of the Stradivari, which he at once
picked up and took to his waiting carriage, with the remark 'Whatever
else happens, the Strad must be saved'."

Albert F. Metz purchased the violin from Wurlitzer in recent years. He
placed it at the disposition of the brilliant young artist Patricia Travers
who has used it during recent years on her concert tours. A vast American
public realizes that the reputation of the violin as being tonally outstanding
is no mere tradition ˙ Miss Travers has brought it to us as an unquestionable
reality!

1732 THE TOM TAYLOR. A specimen described by the late Alfred E. Hill as
an entirely typical work of the master, in every part his work..." in
contradiction to others, parts of which were made by one or other of his
sons."

Reprinted with permission from How Many Strads: Our Heritage from the
Master by Ernest Doring, published by Bein and Fushi, Inc.