It is one of those rare, awe-inspiring moments when you realize that your 200-year-old cello, obtained from your dear uncle who had been a professional cellist, was made in Italy just outside of Milan. . . and now is back in Italy just in time for needed repairs. This precious instrument is back in the hands of the Italians who know cellos better than anyone on earth. Who could have imagined that it would wind up in my hands, and that I would take it to Italy--of all places. Rarely does life work out so neatly. What a gentle happenstance for such a remarkable instrument.
But now I am playing on a loaned cello. . . and who knows for how long. After all, my precious cello is in the hands of Italians.
