“The Soloist” Played My Heartstrings Brilliantly

On a recent visit to my local library, I was making my usual dash for the children’s reading room to catch up with son Ben who was already making himself at home. As I rushed past the shelf containing new acquisitions, a cover graphic of a beat-up violin caught my attention and made me pause to read the title: The Soloist: A Lost Dream, an Unlikely Friendship, and the Redemptive Power of Music (Putnam, 2008). Okay, so I was hooked.

Not as if I needed another book to read. After all, the stack on my desk of books waiting to be read grows each week. And I will read them all, I assure you. It’s just that some books are a siren’s call and insist on being read now. The Soloist is one of those books, and I’m thankful that it diverted me from what I had been planning to read last week.

LA Times columnist Steve Lopez tells the story of Nathaniel Ayers, a one-time Juilliard student reduced to living on Skid Row. Lopez came upon Ayers playing a dilapidated, two-string violin only a few blocks from his Times office. Something about the way this man played held the reporter mesmerized.

Over the next months Lopez would get to know Ayers and investigate his story. Turns out, he had been an up-and-coming classical bass student at the prestigious Juilliard School in New York back in the ‘70s. After a schizophrenic break during his third year, Ayers lost his ability to function and went home to Cleveland where he began living on the streets. Later he would relocate to LA, where he made musical offerings to the statue of Beethoven, his favorite composer.

It didn’t take long for Ayers to become more than a story for Lopez, who was increasingly involved in the man’s daily life. And as the musician learned to trust his new friend, Lopez could catch glimpses of the self-assured, well-spoken young man who had wowed his teachers thirty years before. The columns were awaking greater Los Angeles to the plight of its homeless population. Well-meaning individuals donated violins and cellos to help Ayers make the music that soothed his otherwise confused, paranoid soul. Spotlighting his story prompted local and state politicians to allocate more funds for agencies that exist to help people like Ayers get off the streets and into treatment.

I won’t say that The Soloist has a happy ending. I’m not sure that’s even possible in cases of schizophrenia. In fact, the story is far from over when the last page is turned. Yes, Ayers is off the streets and living in his own apartment. He has a studio where he can practice his music in peace. Hollywood is making a movie about his life. But he is still very much a man tormented by voices within and a broken, sin-stained world without. Nevertheless, his story fills me with hope…not in some inherent human goodness, but in the God who orders each of our stories.

Certain books really prompt me to pray for our world, and The Soloist does just that. It made me more aware of a group of people I don't normally think twice about in my comfortable northern Michigan community. I know that one day this broken planet will be redeemed to its pre-Fall condition. I’m always grateful for cues that steer my thoughts away from my own selfish anxieties and toward the One who cares perfectly for the fallen inhabitants of this fallen world. So thanks, Mr. Lopez, for the much-needed reminder.