Germany, 1936
This unremarkable instrument holds one of the most haunting stories in the Violins of Hope collection. It is not distinguished by craftsmanship or sound—but by the mystery concealed within its body.
It is believed that the violin once belonged to a Jewish musician or amateur player who brought it to a repair shop in 1936. The craftsman who opened it made no visible repair, yet on the inside of the violin’s upper deck he inscribed the words “Heil Hitler, 1936” alongside a large swastika. The violin was then closed, returned to its owner, and played for years—its terrible secret unknown to the musician whose hands gave it voice.
Decades later, the violin was purchased by an American violin maker in Washington, D.C. Upon opening it, he was horrified to discover the inscription. His first instinct was to destroy the instrument, to erase the hateful mark within. But after reflection, he chose a different path—he contacted Amnon and Avshalom Weinstein in Tel Aviv and donated the violin to the Violins of Hope project.
Today, this violin remains part of the collection—not to be repaired, and never to be played. It stands as a stark reminder of how hatred can infiltrate even objects of beauty and culture.
It is also a reminder that most German violin makers were not Nazis. Many maintained deep respect and friendship with Jewish musicians, their valued and talented clients. This instrument, silent but unforgotten, speaks now only as a witness.
