My days with Ida Haendel - High heels, Love, and Music

How it all started

For many years I used to travel to Keshet Eilon, a great Summer course in the north of Israel, close to the Libanon border. It’s a music center founded at a Kibbutz in 1990 to be a source of strength and support for young gifted violinists.

Every year they would bring inspiring known and lesser-known teachers from all over the world, and each summer featured an extraordinary artist—someone with impressive credentials, a big story, or unbelievable violin mastery.?

So one day came Ida Haendel. She was a legendary violinist for many young students, who were in awe of her playing, teaching, and charisma.

Ida had quite a character and unbelievable charisma that entered the stage before we would notice the fragile little lady in an extravagant dress, high heels, hair under a beautiful wig, and some makeup for the finishing touch.

I admired how she brought those outfits from home in Florida with her little doggie (named Decca), her pianist, and an impressive number of high heel shoes.

Over the years, she became a regular guest at the summer school, but she got older - her age remained a particular mystery to this day; some claim she was born in 1928, while others said in 1924 (Ida would never have been the one to reveal it ) - so in 2010, when Ida needed some guidance, the management decided to get someone to keep an eye on her, and I volunteered for that honorable role.

Silence Before the Storm

My job started easily. Silence before the storm, I could say. Every day I would take the car and drive to the next city Naharia where Ida was staying in a hotel. Ida first drank a cup of tea with a little biscuit and needed some time to get started, so I made sure to be long before her presence was demanded at Keshet.

During the car rides, she told me all kinds of things about her artistic life, her current life in Florida, and her sister in Canada – it was her sister’s violin she picked up at a very young age and made everyone realize Ida had talent, and her father, who was her idol, at least she gave me that impression.

Ida also asked me many questions, almost as if she was curious to find out “what a normal person would do in their life.” She was particularly interested in my love life and my opinion about it. I sometimes had the feeling of talking to a curious teenager.

The Common Thread is High Heels

Ida’s schedule was pretty light, so she had plenty of time to go shopping, which was one of her favorite activities. At least every day, we head for one of those big shopping malls with refreshing airco, and there she would hunt for the shoe shops.

The ritual at the shop was always the same: Ida was curious about my taste and why, then showed me her taste and possibly tried out three or four pairs. We would leave the shop empty-handed while Ida sighed, “Oh, I already have so many pair of shoes.”

Shopping makes you hungry, so we went for a sandwich. The sandwich guy started flirting with me pretty quickly. I can assure you that a blond Dutch girl is much appreciated in Israel! Ida was watching and listening with great interest when the guy already made me a proposal since he was not married, and me neither, so what were we waiting for?

Our sandwiches arrived, which gave me an excuse to ignore him, and I started eating calmly. But something was disturbing Ida. She only ate half of her sandwich, and when the guy came again to clear the table, she sent me away, as she wanted to discuss something with him in private.

I left the table in surprise. After their private chat, we paid and left the mall in silence. Then Ida turned to me and said, “You know why I wanted to talk to that guy in private? I wanted to know why he was interested in you.”

Remember when I told you I sometimes felt like I was talking to a teenager? Suddenly I realized she had missed entirely situations like this in her life. Her life had always focused on the violin and performance since early childhood.

We talked a lot about relationships. Ida had an unrequited love and admiration for, I think he was a conductor. She was very discreet about it, didn't tell me the name, but said that because she couldn't have him, she decided there wasn't room for anyone else.

Never Treat the Elderly as a Small Child

Ida used medicine. Probably for high blood pressure and something else I can’t remember. But she thought it was not essential to take them and on top of that she had forgotten her medicines at home. But the Keshet Eilon management was very concerned, and I had to promise to make sure she would get new medicine and keep an eye she would take it.

Not an easy task at all. The first thing was to discover the name of the medicine; Ida, of course, had no idea. She had to call someone in Florida to find it out. Then the people at the pharmacy couldn’t understand what that was, so it took a long time before we finally had it. But I had no way of checking that she swallowed the medicine. She said yes, but we soon discovered it was not the case.

A Fall and a Rise

Ida’s schedule read a Masterclass. I took her on time, calculating an extra hour for the miscellaneous. Advanced on schedule, we arrived at the hall. The previous Masterclass was still going on, so we had to maneuver to find a seat through the rows. Ida didn’t want to be seated close to the stage and entered one of the last rows. Then we heard a noise. She graciously slipped with her high heels into the dimly lit hall and disappeared from our sight.

Extremely concerned about what might have happened to this fragile lady, we rushed over to help her back on her feet. But there she was, gracefully rising alone from the floor, putting her shoe back in place, straightening her clothes, saying, “I wonder why they make the floors so slippery.” Only Ida could fall in such a way that she could make a glorious comeback.

But the next day, she wanted her blood pressure checked. The fall had made her think.

“I Can Talk to the Doctor Myself”

We could have awarded Ida for making the best drama out of her refusal to take her medicines. The blood pressure test at the pharmacy didn’t show good results. “Did you take your medicines?” I asked her. “No, of course not,” she said. How can I be sure they are the right ones? I want to consult a doctor.”

“But you had a recipe,” I protested. “I don’t trust what they gave me,” she said. “I want to see a doctor.”

We ended up being sent from one hospital to another. Most of the time, people didn’t speak one word of English, and I couldn’t speak Hebrew, nor could Ida, so we were pretty stuck. At Keshet Eilon, they were all busy and so used to Ida her dramas that they didn’t even bother sending someone to help me out. I wondered why I had the brilliant idea to supervise Ida Haendel.

Finally, after long hours of waiting, finding the next hospital, explaining the problem, and Ida increasingly transforming into a grumpy child, we found an available doctor who spoke both English and Russian.

Clever Ida discovered the Russian accent when I talked to the doctor, already all set to explain Ida’s problem.

“I can talk to the doctor myself,” she said with a look to me like, “Mind your own business, girl,” and turned over to the doctor addressing her in Russian. I had no idea Ida spoke Russian. Had I been directing until now, Ida took over completely!

The good news was that the doctor convinced her that "there's nothing wrong with you, take the meds, they're the right ones," and "it will be fine." Ida triumphantly explained all this to me when we finally sat in the car.

"My Violin is Stolen!"

My head was spinning. Finding hospitals in an unknown city and country, people not speaking English, the thread of something being wrong with Ida’s health, and her character pushing me to limits, all I wanted was to bring her safely back to the hotel and return to the Kibbutz for some free time.

But every drama has a great plot twist. So Ida had prepared one. I had no idea.

Yet.

Every day when we returned to the hotel, I used to bring her up to her room and make sure all was fine until I closed the door to her room. This evening there was something different. We discovered her room with the door half open. “My violin is stolen!” Ida said with great anxiety. “Go and find the hotel manager; they broke into my room!”

I rushed off, very uncomfortable. Oh my God, what happens when her precious instrument now turns out to be stolen after all the trouble we had today? The manager stayed pretty calm. “I’m sure Ms. Haendel forgot to close her door,” he said calmly. “But I’ll accompany you and make sure all is fine.”

Ida was sitting on her bed. Next to her was the open case with her violin inside. “Thank God they didn’t take the instrument,” she sighed. Then pointing a finger at the manager, “Do you realize the risk? The door was open!”

“Are you sure you closed it, Ms. Haendel?” “Yes, of course, she said; how could I not? I have a couple of million in my room, and I would not close the room?” The manager gave me a wink. “Sure, Ms. Haendel. I’ll make sure we keep an extra eye on your room.” Then he went out and said, “Patience and older people go hand in hand.”

I turned back to her room to make a final check on Ida. She was already sitting next to her phone in the room, and I heard her talking to her sister. “Yes, can you believe it? They left my door open and almost stole my violin.” I closed the door. Time to go home.?

An Amazing Personality

The experience of being Ida’s “nanny” for ten days was a nourishing and impressive experience and one of the highlights of my artist management career.

She had a remarkable knowledge and understanding of music, wisdom acquired from all the legendary people she learned and lived with, and an unbelievable life story. You can read and view videos about her life; I recommend it because it’s so interesting!

If this strong character lady, so determined and very much interested in the young generation, had lived as a young violinist in this era, she would be the first violinist to show up in short skirts and extremely high heels at her concerts. I’m pretty sure about that!

For me, it was a surprise to discover the little Ida inside her. The girl that wanted to talk to her sister every night before she’d go to bed. The teenager so interested in boys and love and how that all works, and the young performer who wished to hang out with her friends.

Ida Haendel was an amazing personality. She passed away at high age in July 2020, leaving us with her amazing musical legacy.

Irma

Next time: Bring the Jury to the Casino!