By FRANCESCA ANDEREGG

Some 20 to 30 students and violin fans crowded into Room 542 on December 8, to hear Anthony Feinstein speak about the life and times of Michael Rabin, a virtuoso violinist whose meteoric rise to and fall from stardom in the 1950s and '60s has been the subject of intense rumor, speculation, and interest. Feinstein is the author of a new biography of the artist titled Rabin: America's Virtuoso Violinist (Amadeus Press, 2005). Although he is a psychiatrist by profession, Feinstein became interested in Rabin's story because he also used to play the violin. Although he never actually met Rabin, in his research for the book he met some of Rabin's closest associates: Lewis Kaplan, a violin faculty member at Juilliard, and Rabin's sister, Bertine Lafayette. Both Kaplan and Lafayette, as well as Lafayette's husband, Ivan, were present at the talk, and their reminiscences helped to give a sense of the personality and story of this extraordinary artist who attended Juilliard's Pre-College Division from 1947-50 and College Division from 1950-52.

Violinist Michael Rabin performed on an alumni concert in Alice Tully Hall on October 3, 1969. (Photo by Whitestone Photo)

The setting for the presentation was Kaplan's studio, and the audience sat in a circle around the edges of the room as Feinstein began by giving a biographical sketch of Michael Rabin's life, starting with his childhood. According to Feinstein, Rabin's early life was structured around practicing: he was taken out of school and tutored at home so that he could continue this intense schedule of eight-hour days spent at the violin. His first big opportunities came at the age of 14, when he performed on the Bell Telephone Hour on TV and then gave a debut recital in Carnegie Hall. The critics' praise for this and future concerts was "superlative," according to Feinstein. Michael was described as a "violin wizard" and as having "complete command over the instrument." The composer and critic Arthur Berger wrote, after that debut recital, that "[Rabin's] rare gifts have created quite a bit of excitement among experts who have heard him." He was considered to be one of the finest violinists of his generation, and was often compared to Heifetz (with whom he regularly and admiringly corresponded).

Feinstein described Rabin's subsequent touring schedule as "intense"—he would sometimes give six concerts in five different cities within six days. Feinstein mentioned one particular feat of endurance in which Michael, as a teenager, would perform a Paganini concerto four times a day, with a movie showing in between each performance. Rabin's performances and tours in Europe and the U.S. in the 1950s and '60s were a result of his extraordinary success, but they took their toll. In 1962 he developed an addiction to sedatives, probably because of the pressures engendered by the long years of touring. The situation reached a crisis when he began to cancel concerts, and in 1963, he visibly shook during a performance in front of 3,000 people. Rabin developed a reputation for being "unreliable" in the eyes of managers, according to Feinstein. He spent some time away from the violin—time described by Feinstein in the book as lonely and frustrating—and was beginning to resurrect his career when he mysteriously died in 1972.

Feinstein said that part of his goal in writing an autobiography of Rabin was to debunk some of the myths surrounding his death. At the time, rumors that he died of a drug overdose or committed suicide circulated widely—rumors that have persisted throughout the decades since his death. However, by interviewing Rabin's friends and family, Feinstein ascertained that he died of a fractured skull, apparently from a fall at home. In the book, Feinstein portrays Rabin as an artist who had struggled with loneliness and intense pressure, but enjoyed life, and had close relationships with a small circle of friends.

Toward the end of the presentation, there was a mix of anecdotes from Kaplan and Lafayette, analysis by Feinstein, and questions from the listeners. The audience was small enough so that it felt like an intimate conversation. "He was no different from anyone else," Lafayette said, when asked what Michael had been like as a person. "He didn't think of himself as anyone special." According to Kaplan, Rabin had a mischievous sense of humor, even as a young boy: In a skit in front of his teacher, Ivan Galamian, and his fellow students, he pretended to smash his priceless violin. "It was bedlam," Kaplan recalls.

When asked if Rabin's long hours of practicing had been "imposed" on him as a child, each participant in the presentation had a different answer. "To be taken out of school meant to grow up without peers," Kaplan said. "That was difficult for him all his life."

"I think he had a talent of such great magnitude that he could have had a more relaxed childhood" and still turned into a great violinist, said Feinstein. Rabin's sister offered these words: "You just don't know. Theoretically, it's better to have a balanced life. But he had this tremendous talent. If it was more dispersed … who knows?"

Francesca Anderegg is a master's student in violin.