Violin, Guinea Pigs, and Spilled Beer

In Berlin, an old woman came to me after a concert with tears in her eyes. She grasped both of my hands, and said she had not heard that sound since she was a child. I told her that it was the sound of my teacher Felix Galimir, who left Vienna as a young man in 1938, and who taught me the soul of old German violin playing. He taught me how to make people cry.