Motele Schlein's violin is a poignant symbol of courage, resilience, and defiance during one of history's darkest periods. At just 12 years old, Motele's life was violently disrupted when Nazi forces invaded Belarus, rounding up Jewish families. His own family was sent to Auschwitz, leaving him to survive alone. Armed only with his beloved violin, Motele escaped to the forests, where Jewish partisans organized resistance efforts against Nazi forces. His journey led him to the partisan group of Moshe Gildenman, known as “Uncle Misha,” where Motele's exceptional musical talent became his lifeline—and a powerful tool for sabotage.

Disguised as an innocent street musician, Motele infiltrated a Nazi-frequented restaurant in Ovruch, Ukraine, where his playing soon earned him a regular position. This gave the young spy a unique opportunity: each day, he carried explosives hidden in his violin case, slowly embedding them within cracks in the restaurant's foundation. His careful, daily subterfuge culminated in a fateful evening when he ignited the explosives just as hundreds of Nazi officers gathered inside. Calmly saluting the guards at the exit, Motele escaped into the night, and moments later, the building erupted in a powerful explosion.

Motele's bravery was motivated by deep personal loss. When he reunited with his fellow partisans, he raised his fist in tribute to his slain family, vowing, “This is for my parents and little Bashiale.” Though Motele continued to fight valiantly, he was tragically killed in combat at the age of 14. His violin, however, survived. Uncle Misha carried it through the chaos of war, even into Berlin during the Allied victory, and later to Israel, where it became a cherished family relic.

Years later, Motele's violin found its way to Amnon Weinstein, a master violin maker in Tel Aviv. Weinstein, who restores Holocaust-era instruments for his Violins of Hope project, recognized the violin's extraordinary story. After meticulously restoring it, Weinstein donated the violin to Yad Vashem, ensuring it would serve as both a memorial and an educational tool. In 2008, the violin's haunting legacy was honored in a powerful performance at the walls of Jerusalem's Old City, where it played Israel's national anthem, Hatikvah.

Motele Schlein's violin stands as a testament to the indomitable human spirit, reminding us that even in the face of unspeakable cruelty, courage and hope can endure. Through performances and remembrance, Motele's story continues to inspire future generations, ensuring that the music of resistance and survival will never be forgotten.

The Zimermann-Krongold Violin represents resilience, memory, and the intertwined stories of Jewish craftsmanship and survival. This violin was crafted in 1924 by Yaacov Zimermann, one of the earliest Jewish violin makers in Warsaw, Poland. Commissioned by Shimon Krongold, a wealthy industrialist and amateur violinist, the violin features an intricate Star of David inlay on its back. Zimermann added a personal touch to the instrument by gluing a Yiddish label inside, which reads: “I made this violin for my loyal friend Shimon Krongold, Yaacov Zimermann, Warsaw, 1924.”

As the war approached, Krongold fled Warsaw in 1939, escaping to Russia and eventually reaching Tashkent, Uzbekistan, where he later succumbed to typhus towards the end of the war. After the war, a survivor from Tashkent carried the violin to Krongold's relatives in Jerusalem, preserving both the instrument and its story as a family heirloom.

The Zimermann-Krongold violin not only symbolizes personal friendship and survival but also highlights the efforts of Zimermann and others in Warsaw's Jewish community to nurture young talent. Before the war, Krongold was known for supporting prodigious musicians, such as Michel Swalbe, who later became the leading violinist of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra. Today, this violin stands as a testament to the lives affected by the Holocaust, connecting modern audiences to a past filled with artistry, kindness, and tragedy.

The Hecht Violin reflects both personal resilience and historical tragedy. The violin belonged to Fanny Hecht, a Jewish violinist living in Amsterdam during World War II. Originally from Bielefeld, Germany, the Hecht family fled to Holland in hopes of escaping Nazi persecution, but their fate was tragically sealed when the Nazis expanded their control.

In 1943, fearing arrest and deportation, Fanny entrusted her violin to her Christian neighbor, Helena Visser. She left a note inside the violin that identified it as an "Antonius Stradivarius Cremona, Faciebat anno 1743." This act of trust proved crucial as the entire Hecht family—Fanny, her husband Alex, and their sons Fritz and Ernst—were arrested. Fanny and Alex were murdered in Auschwitz, Ernst perished in Sobibor, and Fritz died in the Monowitz labor camp in 1945.

The Visser family safeguarded the violin for 74 years, committed to ensuring it would eventually return to Jewish musicians. In an extraordinary gesture, the Vissers donated the violin to the Violins of Hope project. They traveled to Israel, visited Yad Vashem to research the Hecht family's history, and entrusted the violin to the Weinsteins, ensuring that the memory of the Hechts and their legacy would endure through music.

The Hecht Violin is now part of the Violins of Hope collection, where it serves as both a symbol of survival and a tribute to those lost. Its story emphasizes the enduring power of music, trust, and remembrance, connecting past and present generations through its melodies.

The Moshe Weinstein Violin was crafted by Johann Gottlieb Ficker around 1803. This violin, named after Moshe Weinstein, represents not only the history of a master craftsman but also the deep personal journey of one of the most influential figures in the world of violins. Weinstein, born in Eastern Europe, fell in love with the violin at a young age when he first heard klezmer music at a wedding in his shtetl.

Weinstein's passion for the violin grew, and after teaching himself how to play, he went on to study music at the academy in Vilna, where he also met his future wife, Golda. They later immigrated to Palestine in 1938, escaping the growing threat in Europe. Upon arriving, Moshe first worked as a laborer but soon opened a violin shop in Tel Aviv, which became a cornerstone for supporting young musicians, including future virtuosos like Yitzhak Perlman and Pinchas Zukerman.

This violin embodies Weinstein's story of resilience, love for music, and dedication to the arts. After escaping Europe's turmoil, Moshe's shop in Tel Aviv played a pivotal role in nurturing the next generation of Jewish musicians. Restored and played in concerts worldwide, the Moshe Weinstein Violin is a tribute to his lifelong commitment to preserving and sharing the gift of music, even amidst the darkest times.

The Feivel Wininger Violin, crafted in the Brother Placht workshop in Schonbach, Germany, around 1880, holds a story of resilience and survival. This violin was owned by Feivel Wininger, a Jewish man from Romania who endured the brutal conditions of World War II. In October 1941, Feivel, along with thousands of Jews, was deported to the swampy regions of Transnistria and further into Ukraine, where he struggled to survive in harsh ghettos.

While laboring in the Ukrainian ghetto of Shargorod, Feivel was recognized by a judge and amateur violinist, who gifted him an Italian Amati violin. With this instrument, Feivel found hope and a way to provide for himself and others. He played at weddings and celebrations in exchange for food, supporting not only his family but also 17 other individuals. Although the original Amati violin was lost, Feivel continued to make music, relying on a different violin to sustain himself during these difficult times.

After the war, Feivel's daughter, Helen, brought the violin to the Weinstein workshop in Tel Aviv for repairs, ensuring that its legacy would continue. The violin now stands as a testament to Feivel's perseverance and kindness, reminding the world of the power of music in even the darkest of times. It has become part of the Violins of Hope collection, symbolizing the endurance of the human spirit and the importance of memory and resilience.

The Auschwitz Violin carries a poignant story of survival and resilience. This violin was made in the workshop of Schweitzer in Germany around 1850. During World War II, it belonged to an inmate who played in the men's orchestra at the Auschwitz concentration camp, providing a rare glimmer of humanity amid unimaginable suffering.

Abraham Davidowitz, a Jewish refugee, acquired the violin after the war under remarkable circumstances. While working for the Joint Distribution Committee in post-war Germany, Davidowitz was approached by a man who, due to financial hardship, sold him the violin for $50. Davidowitz intended the instrument to be a gift for his son, Freddy, when he grew up.

Over time, the Auschwitz Violin was restored by the Weinsteins, founders of the Violins of Hope project. This violin has since been played by renowned musicians across the world, bringing its story to life in concerts and exhibitions. Its legacy stands as a testament to the power of music in the face of atrocity and serves as a tribute to those who endured the horrors of Auschwitz.

The Bielski Violin is a German-made instrument, crafted around 1870. This violin holds significant historical and cultural value, connected to the renowned Bielski partisans, a Jewish resistance group that operated in Belarus during World War II. The partisans, led by the Bielski brothers, notably rescued over 1,200 Jews from Nazi persecution, embodying a legacy of defiance, survival, and solidarity.

Amnon Weinstein, the visionary behind the Violins of Hope project, has a personal connection to the Bielski story. His wife, Assaela Weinstein, is the daughter of Assael Bielski, one of the founders of the Bielski Brigade. Through the restoration and inclusion of this violin in the collection, the project not only commemorates the lives saved but also honors the bravery and resilience of those who fought against oppression.

The Bielski Violin is more than just a musical instrument; it is a symbolic tribute to the power of resistance and hope. It represents the endurance of Jewish cultural traditions, even in the face of near-total annihilation during the Holocaust. Featuring a mother-of-pearl Star of David, the violin reflects the deep-rooted connection between Jewish heritage and music, which served as both comfort and resistance during one of history's darkest periods.

Today, the Bielski Violin continues to inspire audiences as it plays in concerts worldwide. Its restoration ensures that the stories of courage, hope, and survival associated with it resonate across generations, reaffirming the role of art and music in fostering unity and remembrance.

The Sandor Fisher Violin holds a profound story of survival, resilience, and the enduring power of music. Sandor Fisher was born in Romania in 1919, and from the age of six, he studied violin, alongside singing and acting. However, with the rise of World War II and increasing persecution, his life was dramatically altered. Fisher adopted the name Farago Sandor to avoid Nazi detection and was eventually sent to a work camp in place of his father.

During his time in the labor camp, Sandor's violin became more than just an instrument—it was his lifeline. He played music to entertain officers and smuggled food to his fellow prisoners, providing both nourishment and hope. In 1944, Fisher managed to escape the camp and joined Soviet forces, contributing to the war effort.

After the war, Sandor married Valeria Teichner, another Holocaust survivor, and the couple emigrated to Israel. They built a life together, raising children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Throughout his life, Sandor never parted with his violin, playing it until his final days. Today, the Sandor Fisher Violin is part of the Violins of Hope collection, symbolizing the endurance of the human spirit through music, even in the darkest of times.

The Haftel Violin was crafted by the renowned violin maker August Darte around 1870 in Mirecourt, France. This violin is closely tied to Zvi Haftel, a distinguished musician who became the first concertmaster of the Palestine Orchestra, later known as the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra.

Zvi Haftel was one of the many talented musicians displaced by Nazi racial laws, which stripped Jewish musicians of their positions in prominent orchestras across Europe. In 1936, he was recruited by Bronislav Hubermann, a visionary violinist who founded the Palestine Orchestra to rescue Jewish musicians and provide them with a safe haven and a platform to continue their artistry.

Haftel's violin became a symbol of both survival and excellence. Through the initiative of Hubermann, many musicians and their families escaped the horrors of the Holocaust, finding refuge in what would become the state of Israel. The violin, with its impeccable craftsmanship and deep historical connection, is now featured in the Violins of Hope collection. It serves as a testament to the resilience of those who fought to preserve their art in the face of oppression and adversity.

The Haftel Violin continues to be played in concerts worldwide, sharing its story of survival and hope. Through its performances, audiences are reminded of the power of music to transcend time and tragedy, keeping alive the memory of those who used their talents to resist and endure.

The Morpurgo Violin carries with it a powerful story of resilience and survival. Gualtiero Morpurgo, the head of an ancient Jewish family from Milan, Italy, received the violin as a gift from his mother during his youth. She told him that the violin would help him during desperate times and open new opportunities, giving the instrument personal and symbolic significance.

During the Holocaust, Gualtiero was deported to a forced labor camp, while his mother was sent to Auschwitz. Despite the harsh conditions, he managed to keep the violin with him. Playing Bach's Partitas on the violin helped him maintain hope and strength even when freezing temperatures made playing almost impossible. The instrument served as a lifeline in moments of despair, connecting Gualtiero with his love for music and providing solace during the most difficult times.

After the war, Gualtiero's life took a new direction as he used his engineering skills to build ships for Aliya Bet, aiding Holocaust survivors in their journey to British Mandate Palestine. His contributions earned him the Medal of Jerusalem in 1992, presented by Yitzhak Rabin. Gualtiero continued playing the violin throughout his long life, performing into his late nineties. After his passing in 2012, his family decided to donate the violin to the Violins of Hope collection, ensuring that it continues to inspire and tell the story of courage and perseverance in the face of unimaginable hardships.

The Dachau Violin holds a profound connection to the horrors of World War II and the resilience of the human spirit. This instrument was originally owned by Abram Merczynski, a Jewish man who, along with his brothers, was deported from the ghetto in Lodz, Poland, to Auschwitz in August 1944, and later to Dachau concentration camp. Despite the brutal conditions, Abram managed to keep his violin with him throughout these harrowing experiences.

Abram's violin served as more than a possession; it was a symbol of hope and a lifeline in a world marked by suffering. In Dachau and its subcamp, Kaufering, he would play music, keeping alive a semblance of humanity amidst the atrocities. His music became a way to endure and resist the overwhelming despair of the camps.

After the war, Abram and his brothers lived in Munich, staying with a German family, the Sesars, who helped them rebuild their lives. Abram later passed the violin to Julius Sesar, a young boy in the family, as a gesture of gratitude. Years later, Sesar entrusted the violin to Eberhard Thiessen, a violin-maker, who ensured the instrument found its place in the Violins of Hope collection.

The Dachau Violin, now fully restored, continues to tell Abram's story. It is not merely an instrument but a testament to survival, friendship, and the enduring power of music to provide solace during the darkest times. The violin's presence in concerts around the world serves as a poignant reminder of those who suffered, those who resisted, and those who never gave up hope.

The Berlin Violin, also known as the Gypsy Violin, carries not only the rich sound of music but also the tumultuous history of persecution and survival. Erich Winkel, a committed communist and talented violinist, acquired the violin from a Romani musician while playing in a communist youth orchestra in the early 1930s in Berlin. This orchestra faced constant attacks by Nazi aggressors, even before the regime fully came to power, making the violin a silent witness to early anti-fascist resistance.

Winkel cherished the instrument and preserved it through many challenges, valuing it both as a musical tool and a symbol of defiance. After years of attacks and resistance, the violin remained intact and continued to play a vital role in Winkel's life. In 2015, during a commemorative concert held by the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra on International Holocaust Day, the violin was officially added to the Violins of Hope collection. The event marked the 70th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, and the violin symbolized resilience amidst tragedy.

Through the Violins of Hope initiative, the Berlin Violin continues to tell its story. It honors the memory of persecuted communities, including Jewish and Romani people, who suffered under Nazi rule. Today, it plays in concerts around the world, representing not only Erich Winkel's personal journey but also the broader narrative of survival and hope that transcends generations.

The Erich Weininger Violin carries a poignant story of survival and resilience during the Holocaust. The violin was made in the workshop of Schweitzer in Germany around 1870, a time when the instrument's craftsmanship was highly regarded. It was owned by Erich Weininger, an amateur violinist and butcher from Vienna, who took the violin with him on a harrowing journey through the darkest chapters of World War II.

Weininger's life took a tragic turn in 1938, when Austria was annexed by Nazi Germany. He was arrested and sent to the Dachau concentration camp. Despite the unimaginable hardships, Erich managed to hold onto his beloved violin throughout his imprisonment. The instrument, although silent for much of his time in captivity, symbolized a connection to his previous life and hope for a future beyond the horrors of war.

After being transferred from Dachau to Buchenwald, Erich miraculously secured his release with the help of the Quakers. He fled Nazi-controlled Europe and, after several detours, eventually reached the British Mandate of Palestine. While en route, he was detained in Mauritius by British authorities restricting Jewish immigration. During his time in Mauritius, Erich formed a musical group, using his violin to perform classical, jazz, and local music, bringing moments of joy to fellow detainees.

Following the war, Erich Weininger settled in Palestine and continued his passion for music. His violin, a testament to survival and the enduring spirit of art, was later donated by his son, Zeev, to the Violins of Hope project. The instrument now stands as a tribute to those who endured the Holocaust and serves as a reminder of the power of music to sustain hope, even in the bleakest of circumstances.

The Friedman Violin carries with it a poignant story of family, survival, and resilience. The violin belonged to a Jewish family during World War II, where it was shared between two sisters, aged 9 and 11, who took music lessons together. Their mother ensured that the girls practiced daily, fostering a love for music in the family.

During the Holocaust, the family's world was torn apart. While being transported between different locations, the two sisters were separated from their parents. The parents, however, managed to keep the violin as a treasured memento of their daughters' talent and passion. Despite the chaos and uncertainty of the war, the violin remained a symbol of hope and connection to the family's past.

After the war, the two sisters were sent to Palestine through Aliyat HaNoar, a children's immigration program. The journey was not without challenges—they were intercepted by British authorities and sent to a camp in Cyprus. However, they were eventually reunited with their parents, and the violin became a cherished object that survived alongside them, representing endurance and the power of music through unimaginable hardship. The Friedman Violin, now part of the Violins of Hope, continues to share this story of love, survival, and the human spirit.

The Barns Violin holds a deep historical significance tied to the atrocities faced by Jewish communities during the Holocaust. This violin serves as a poignant reminder of the horrors inflicted during the pogroms that occurred in Polish villages and shtetls, including Jedwabne, Radzilow, Szczuczyn, and Kolno. These brutal events saw Jewish residents subjected to public humiliation, torture, and mass murder at the hands of their neighbors. In one of the most infamous incidents, the Jedwabne Pogrom, approximately 1,600 Jews were forced into a barn and burned alive, with only seven survivors emerging from the tragedy.

The Barns Violin symbolizes the resilience and cultural survival of Jewish music and spirit during these dark times. Its presence in the Violins of Hope collection pays tribute not only to the memory of the victims but also to the enduring power of music as a form of resistance, hope, and preservation of identity. The violin, although silent today, carries with it the weight of history and stands as a testament to the strength and endurance of those who perished and those who survived to share their stories.

Restoring this violin was not just an act of preservation but an effort to breathe life back into the music that was nearly extinguished by hate. Through the Violins of Hope initiative, the Barns Violin continues to inspire audiences worldwide, serving as a solemn reminder of the past and a symbol of the ongoing commitment to remember, educate, and advocate for a world free of hate and prejudice.