MARCH 26, 2024 – On the recommendation of two friends, this evening Beth and I watched The Last Repair Shop, which won the 2024 Academy Award for Best Documentary Short Film. It’s a beautiful little film featuring the musical instrument repair shop run for the benefit of student musicians of the Los Angeles public schools. A feel-good work of the first order, the documentary provides a view of what great wonders can arise out of modest corners this world.
The film weaves profiles of the instrument repair workers with the sparkling remarks of student musicians who depend on the repair shop for their instruments. The common denominator, of course, is music and how it touches the heart and soul of everyone involved.
As you hear the stories, you realize how little it takes, really, to make a huge difference in a person’s life; a small break, a job tuning pianos, the gift of an instrument, a word of encouragement. And the other side of the coin—the disadvantages that some people overcome by luck, dreams, determination; the single mother from Mexico who came to America to live her dream, only to experience disappointment before the dream materialized; the Armenian refugee who escaped violence and hatred and was given a lift by a kind American couple; the gay man who experienced rejection to the point of despair when growing up, but found meaning, purpose, and acceptance in his remarkable career repairing stringed instruments.
By contrast, I’ve landed every lucky break imaginable; greased skids, all the way. Where have I been to help pull along people far less fortunate than I?
And to hear the young girl say, “I love my violin” with such genuine enthusiasm. I thought about myself at that age resisting all parental mandates to practice. What if I’d said, “I love my violin” instead of cursing it so?
At the end of the production, alumni of the remarkable music programs gather to perform. It is quite extraordinary music, and as the credits roll, the names are extensive. More than a handful of students have participated in the project over the decades.
The instrument effort is run on a shoestring budget, I’m sure, but the leverage achieves supreme results. Anyone concerned about public education in this country—costs and outcomes—should examine carefully the role of music and . . . of The Last Repair Shop. Much can be learned from the film.
Afterward, I listened to a world-famous cellist turn out a flawless performance of Anton Dvorak’s cello concerto. It was musically sublime, but sterling though it might’ve been, against the backdrop of The Last Repair Shop, the rendering of Dvorak reminded me that all great music starts with groans and strains, until after untold hours of effort, something beautiful springs forth to delight the ears of an audience that fills some grand hall. Every great work has a beginning, and The Last Repair Shop is a place of beginnings that bloom and grow into something meaningful in the lives of many.
I’m grateful to the heroes of the film for telling their stories and to the makers who saw fit to make this wonderful testament to the resilience of the human spirit.
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© 2024 by Eric Nilsson
1 Comment
Eric, you should read the obit today in The NY Times of Amnon Weinstein, a luthier in Israel. He started Violins of Hope and restored violins of people killed in the Holocaust. I found it quite moving.