When the world's most beautiful Stradivari violin is yours

When his Stradivarius was stolen, Pierre Amoyal
hired a lawyer specialising in kidnapping cases to find the precious instrument. TARA WERNER reports.

Pierre Amoyal opens his violin case and carefully takes out the instrument, slowly unwrapping it from several white silk scarves. He holds the violin up and then affectionately cradles it closely to his body, like a small child.

The total respect he shows it is obvious - and no wonder, given its illustrious history.

Amoyal plays the doyen of all violins, the famous 1717 "Kochanski" Stradivarius, regarded as one of the most beautiful produced by the violin-maker and once owned by the Tsar Nicholas II of Russia and the Polish violinist, Pavel Kochanski.

When asked to describe the special qualities of the instrument, on which he will be playing the Saint-Saens Violin Concerto No 3 at Thursday's Auckland Philharmonia concert, he shrugs his shoulders and smiles.

"It's a combination of a lot of many perfect details - the wood, the varnish, the shape. It has its own special tone - a soul in its own right.

"This comes from its history, the musicians who have shaped it into a living thing, not just a piece of wood. It's got its own memory. A violin played well will often 'sound' better over the years. It's a companion, a friend for life," he says.

He visibly winces when he recalls the time he almost lost his "companion," when the violin was stolen in Italy, and not recovered for four years.

"I felt as though I had lost my voice and a part of my spirit as well," Amoyal says. "I was followed out of my hotel by someone who knew I had the violin with me and was waiting outside."

During the subsequent fraught time Amoyal continued his concerts while a lawyer in Rome, known for his skill in resolving complicated kidnapping cases, worked on returning the violin. He treated the case in exactly the same manner as a human kidnapping, with the utmost caution at every step to ensure the violin's return, undamaged.

After receiving a photo of the violin and a ransom demand, the lawyer was able, with the help of the Italian police, to identify the people detaining the instrument. A year later a trap was created. In the hope of receiving a ransom, the thieves brought the violin close to the place from where it had been stolen. The police arrested the thieves and the violin was recovered, intact.

"Even though I didn't pay the ransom I still had to pay a lot of people, and it cost a lot of money to get back. Usually it doesn't end that well, but this time it did. The good thing was that you discover that you can cope, and I tell people, when they are going though difficult periods in their lives, there is always hope," Amoyal says.

He even has a sense of humour about the incident. "The insurance people were another form of gangster. I had to deal with two types of gangster - the official and the unofficial."

It's hard not to warm to this gentle, self-effacing musician who, apart from playing with the Auckland Philharmonia, is helping to judge the inaugural Michael Hill World Violin Competition.

Semi-finalists will be flown, all expenses paid, to Queenstown to compete over Queen's Birthday weekend. Three finalists will then be chosen to each perform a concerto with the Auckland Philharmonia at the Auckland Town Hall on June 6.

Given his important role heading the international jury, Amoyal is candid about competitions.

"Some have done more damage than good, and if people are not successful then they can be discouraged for a very long time. Competitions can be very cruel - they promote the strongest and not necessarily the sensitive. I will try to judge with this in mind," he says.

He remembers with affection his own teacher, the legendary violinist Jascha Heifetz, who thought that competitions were a necessary evil, since competitors often focus on technique rather than musicality.

"I feel technique is often a cover-up for lack of sensitivity.

"When Heifetz taught us, if we made a mistake, but still played with heart, he would still praise us. But if a piece was done perfectly he would say, 'So what?' And that's the attitude I still carry today with my own students."

It is obvious that Amoyal feels his role as a teacher at the Lausanne Conservatoire in Switzerland to be a significant part of his life. "It would be immoral of me to keep all of what I have learned to myself, especially since I myself have had some excellent mentors. It's important to give encouragement, always."

Then he adds with a wry smile, "Nowadays I can pick and choose my students, which wasn't the case when I had to accept all in class. I still seem to get good results with them," he says.

* Pierre Amoyal plays at 8 pm on Thursday at the Auckland Town Hall.