Einstein’s Violin

A deep understanding of music helped foster Einstein's creativity. Countless images portray him with his violin. He lovingly called her "Lina," and she accompanied him everywhere. He dutifully played for his mother's friends at social gatherings and luncheons. As the underpinnings of World War II brewed in Europe, he spent afternoons playing Mozart with Belgium's Queen Elisabeth. They played together so frequently that her husband, King Albert I, began referring to himself as "the husband of the second violinist." Years later, when the Queen's husband and daughter-in-law died in close succession, Einstein wrote her soothing condolences: "Mozart remains as beautiful and tender as he always was and always will be. There is, after all, something eternal that lies beyond the hand of fate and of all human delusions." Later, when Einstein moved to America, he celebrated his new home by hosting a recital featuring Haydn and Mozart. This time he was the second violinist, behind the Russian virtuoso Toscha Seidel. A fundraiser for Jewish refugees from Nazi Europe found him performing Bach's Concerto for Two Violins and a Mozart quartet. Another time, after a scientific lecture, he told the audience, in his typical self-deprecating fashion, "Perhaps it will be pleasanter and more understandable if instead of making a speech I play a piece for you on the violin." He played a Mozart sonata. Wednesday nights were sacrosanct, avidly protected from other engagements for chamber music in his home. At Christmas time, when carolers came by his home, he stepped outside in the snow to accompany them on the violin. It is evident, as all these anecdotes depict, how integral the violin was to Einstein's identity. Alfred Nobel set out the conditions for what would later become the Nobel Prize in his last will and testament. The story of his will is itself full of insights into human nature. Alfred had invented dynamite and was known as an egotistical Scrooge. When Alfred's older brother Ludwig died, the press mistook the latter for the former. They ran an eviscerating epitaph about the "Tradesman in Death." The misfortune - or fortune - of witnessing his own dubious legacy drove him to amend his ways. This combination of existential guild and journalistic error led to the prize now considered the pinnacle of human achievement. Jacobus Henricus van't Hoff won the first Nobel Prize in chemistry, in 1901, for recognizing that molecules could only be properly understood by considering their three-dimensional structure. It took a great leap of imagination to change the existing paradigm, and he was mocked for it - until later proven correct. Some years earlier, speaking as he took up a professorship in Amsterdam, he had drawn attention to the disproportionate number of eminent scientists with artistic inclinations. He laboriously reviewed a litany of scientific biographies to arrive at the conclusion that almost all of them possessed a high degree of artistic imagination. Many, including the renowned Newton, Kepler, Descartes and Leibniz, even showed signs of what he called "pathological" imagination. He would probably have placed the reckless Einstein in that category as well. Many years later, a study of Nobel laureates confirmed his hypothesis: there was indeed a strong correlation between scientific success and music. The correlation was most significant for those who did not merely play for relaxation, but integrated music into their work. Einstein's contemporaries alone offer up a full roster of musicians as scientists. Werner Heisenberg, the renowned author of the uncertainty principle, was a concert-caliber pianist. Max Planck, who formulated quantum theory, was a talented pianist and would-be composer. Ludwig Boltzmann was a skilled pianist, and Walther Nernst invented the technology to amplify musical instruments. Paul Ehrenfest dabbled on the piano, developing a lasting bond with Einstein after the two played a Brahms duet one evening. Louis de Broglie's wave-like contributions to quantum mechanics were inspired by his musical background, and Marie Curie's household was full of music - her daughter Ève would become a professional pianist. These great men and women certainly played for relaxation and enjoyment; but, to the point of the Nobel study, they also played when they were puzzling over a problem - like Einstein's "I've got it." (All references are cited in the book)