A story about a piano and its most prodigious player—and how they both survived one of the darkest periods in history.
When her father died, singer-songwriter Roxanne de Bastion inherited a piano she knew had been in her family for over a hundred years. But it is only when she finds a cassette recording of her grandfather, Stephen, playing one of his compositions, that the true and almost unbelievable history of the piano, this man, and her family begins to unravel.
Stephen was a man who enjoyed great fame, a man who suffered the horrors of concentration camps in WWII, a man who ultimately survives—along with his piano. By piecing together his cassette recordings, unpublished memoirs, letters, and documents, Roxanne sings out her grandfather's story of music and hope, lost and found, and explores the power of what can echo down through generations.
“Roxanne de Bastion’s poignant first book nimbly reconstructs the life of her Jewish paternal grandfather, Stephen de Bastion. His love of music serves as a powerful undercurrent throughout the narrative. In an atmospheric touch, de Bastion utilizes the family’s piano, which miraculously survived the Holocaust, as a vector for Stephen’s emotional experience.”
“When Roxanne de Bastion inherits a baby grand Blüthner piano, she embarks on a journey through her family’s past. De Bastion, a singer-songwriter, skillfully blends family stories and memories into a virtuoso narrative of courage, resilience, loss, and survival. This powerful and moving story is rooted in heartbreaking history, family pride, and a belief in the power of music.”
“A somber narrative derived from archival work left by a Holocaust survivor portrays an era in Budapest just before and during early World War II. De Bastion ably pieces together this poignant tale, offering a memorable account of family and resilience. A painfully moving story of how a family piano served as a cherished reminder of long-lost but not forgotten relationships.”
“A deeply moving new chapter in the history of pianos and violins as instruments of Holocaust survival. ‘The piano yearned for freedom too,’ de Bastion says of the baby grand piano key to the miraculous survival of her Hungarian family. ‘Our piano is not a sentient being,’ she writes of the dawning catastrophe, ‘but I believe it has a memory. It keeps an imprint of its players within it, wishing its earthly bodies well on their journey. It sings a quiet song of memory and will patiently await their return.’ The Piano Player of Budapest chronicles the triumphant fulfillment of that promise.”
