Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

An account of Nathan Milstein's career and that of his artistic contemporaries, but also of his cultural and political experience of Europe and America during the 20th century. He claims he drifted into defection during a musical tour abroad with friend and fellow musician, Vladimir Horowitz.

Reviews provided by Syndetics

Library Journal Review

One of the greatest violinists of the 20th century, Milstein is at 87 possibly the last active representative of the important school of Russian violinists (Heifetz and Elman among them) taught by Leopold Auer befor World War I. Milstein's memoirs begin with his student days in pre-revolutionary Russia and cover his still viable concert career. Keen of memory, sharp of perception, Milstein avoids the personal details of his life, instead devoting each chapter to an individual who was either close to or admired by him, e.g., Horowitz, Kreisler, Stravinsky, and Rachmaninov, among others. As topics, they serve as focal points for numerous asides and digressions--political as well as artistic. His writing style is informal, almost improvisatory, perhaps reflecting conversational sessions with coauthor Volkov; and Milstein's blunt, often acerbic opinions and judgments pepper his anecdotes, providing lively and stimulating reading.-- Susan Kagan, Hunter Coll., CUNY (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Publishers Weekly Review

At age 87 violinist Milstein is the last surviving member of an amazing group of emigre Russian musical personages--including Vladimir Horowitz, Jascha Heifetz, Gregor Piatigorsky, Igor Stravinsky, Sergei Rachmaninov and George Balanchinefair to call Mr. B. a musician?/no;see fix above.gs --who blazed across the world music scene for 50 years. His acerbic, highly opinionated memoir tells excellent stories about all of them as well as many others. It is also a revealing account of life in Odessa and Leningrad before, during and after the Revolution, and of the struggles even such phenomenally gifted people initially faced in making their way in the West. Milstein, as might be expected, is extremely sour about the Soviet regime, and his contempt extends to some of its most notable artists; a pity, because his views are otherwise fresh and winningused above in American Cassandra/see fix.gs , and unmarred by the excessive ego that often overcomes such memoirs. Coauthor Volkoff is the musicologist who created a dramatic book out of Dmitryper Web Shostakovich's Testament , and his skills are much in evidence here: Milstein's stories flow gracefully and are compulsively readable. (June) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Kirkus Book Review

Master violinist Milstein, now 86, offers slivers of autobiography but mostly anecdotes and impressions of the music greats he has known--in a lively, opinionated, occasionally irascible grab bag. The early chapters have the color and intensity of heartfelt memoir: Milstein recalls his comfortable Odessa childhood, his studies in Petersburg with the legendary Leopold Auer, and his youthful tours around Revolutionary Russia with soulmate Vladimir Horowitz (who played ""with extraordinary brio, but alas sometimes too loud""). Then, however, once Milstein and Horowitz have moved to the West (circa 1925), the book becomes a collection of portraits rather than a personal story. (Two wives are mentioned--barely--in passing.) Violinist-composer Eugene Ysaye was a blank as a teacher, but ""his presence alone could be an inspiration--that overflowing bulk brought into motion by music !"" Rachmaninoff was Milstein's hero as man and musician, while Stravinsky was a great composer but a disaster as a human being: insincere, ""evasive as a snake,"" jealous of performers, and possessed by a ""control mania."" Fritz Kreisler was ""adorable,"" Furtwangler was unfairly branded a Nazi, and George Balanchine was both awesome genius and down-to-earth friend. Horowitz's playing was ""a volcanic eruption""; as a personality ""he could be many people; he always surprised."" (But, aside from disputing one of the sources in Glenn Plaskin's biography, Milstein offers little new insight into the various Horowitz enigmas.) And, throughout, opinions--political as well as musical-are freely dispensed: Soviet virtuosos like Lazar Berman are ""phenomenal technicians but second-rate musicians""; conductors are overrated, often unnecessary; James Galway takes ""insane tempi, which totally perverts the music""; Gorbachev hasn't really changed the Soviet Union much (Milstein's an unabashed conservative); and the Russian Tea Room is ""a catastrophe now--like eating at Howard Johnson's."" With irreverent glimpses of dozens of others (from Dali to Schoenberg) and lots about the violin repertoire: a breezy, jaunty miscellany for music-lovers, though short on autobiographical drama or feeling. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.