It’s hard to know exactly what to put on a personal website, and after a short deliberation I’ve concluded that as a musician, my family and my life are all part of the story that I have to tell. And it’s such a great story that I at least want to record some of it here as it happens.
Following Banff I came to Toronto to meet the mythical red-head strain of my family that ended up here after the war. What I didn’t expect was to be instantly and warmly welcomed into the whole family, and find myself recipient of a requite kindness that my grandmother had imparted on my cousin some 35 years ago. I’ve met or spoken to every one of the descended relatives, and we connected instantly – like, well, family. Joe, my paternal grandmother’s first cousin, came to Toronto and made his business in furs. I went to visit him in the warehouse where he lives and works, and found him an infectious and crazy 80-year old, who works 7 days a week and parties in nightclubs every night. “Sleep is a waste of time” he said, and informed me that as there is no money in music, “you must find yourself a rich boyfriend and marry him”. But I already knew that.
He had a great story about his short stint as an aspiring musician. After the war he found himself in Italy waiting to enter Palestine by boat, and as a 16-year old he liked to hang out with the ‘black market boys’. He had his eyes on this accordion, and after watching it all day bought it and took it back to the camp. He had a dozen or so lessons on it then decided it was too much trouble and returned to hang out with the big boys. “Do you want to see it?” he asked me.
joe and his accordion
So that’s Joe and his beautiful Italian black-market accordion that he picked up at the end of World War II.