HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015041.jpg
1.21 MB
Extraction Summary
1
People
2
Organizations
1
Locations
1
Events
0
Relationships
3
Quotes
Document Information
Type:
Manuscript / memoir excerpt
File Size:
1.21 MB
Summary
This document appears to be a page from a memoir or manuscript found within the House Oversight Committee's files (likely related to the Epstein investigation). It narrates a specific childhood memory of a six-year-old violin prodigy performing the Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor at Carnegie Hall on January 14, 1939. The narrative focuses on the child's internal struggle with an itch on their leg during the performance and their creative solution to scratch it without stopping the music.
People (1)
| Name | Role | Context |
|---|---|---|
| Narrator (Unidentified) | Violinist / Child Prodigy |
Describes themselves as a 6-year-old performing at Carnegie Hall on Jan 14, 1939; platinum blond wavy hair; wearing a...
|
Organizations (2)
| Name | Type | Context |
|---|---|---|
| Carnegie Hall |
Venue where the narrator is performing.
|
|
| House Oversight Committee |
Implied by the footer stamp 'HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015041', indicating the source of the document release.
|
Timeline (1 events)
Locations (1)
| Location | Context |
|---|---|
|
Performance venue (New York City implied).
|
Key Quotes (3)
"I first woke up at the age of six."Source
HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015041.jpg
Quote #1
"On this particular Saturday evening–January 14, 1939–I was in the process of becoming the youngest concert artist in any field ever to perform at Carnegie Hall."Source
HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015041.jpg
Quote #2
"Balancing on my left foot, I scratched my left leg with my right foot, without missing a note of the 'Vivaldi Concerto.'"Source
HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015041.jpg
Quote #3
Full Extracted Text
Complete text extracted from the document (1,323 characters)
I first woke up at the age of six.
It began with an itch in my leg. My left leg. But somehow I knew I
wasn't supposed to scratch it. Although my eyes were closed, I was
standing up. In fact, I was standing on a huge stage. And I was playing the
violin. I was in the middle of playing the "Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor." I
was wearing a Little Lord Fauntleroy suit–ruffled white silk shirt with puffy
sleeves, black velvet short pants with ivory buttons and matching
vest–white socks and black patent-leather shoes. My hair was platinum
blond and wavy. On this particular Saturday evening–January 14, 1939–I
was in the process of becoming the youngest concert artist in any field
ever to perform at Carnegie Hall. But all I knew was that I was being
taunted by an itch. An itch that had become my adversary.
wasn't supposed to scratch it. Although my eyes were closed, I was
standing up. In fact, I was standing on a huge stage. And I was playing the
violin. I was in the middle of playing the "Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor." I
was wearing a Little Lord Fauntleroy suit–ruffled white silk shirt with puffy
sleeves, black velvet short pants with ivory buttons and matching
vest–white socks and black patent-leather shoes. My hair was platinum
blond and wavy. On this particular Saturday evening–January 14, 1939–I
was in the process of becoming the youngest concert artist in any field
ever to perform at Carnegie Hall. But all I knew was that I was being
taunted by an itch. An itch that had become my adversary.
I was tempted to stop playing the violin, just for a second, and
scratch my leg with the bow, yet I was vaguely aware that this would not
be appropriate. I had been well trained. I was a true professional. But that
itch kept getting fiercer and fiercer. Then, suddenly, an impulse surfaced
from my hidden laboratory of alternative possibilities, and I surrendered to
it. Balancing on my left foot, I scratched my left leg with my right foot,
without missing a note of the "Vivaldi Concerto."
scratch my leg with the bow, yet I was vaguely aware that this would not
be appropriate. I had been well trained. I was a true professional. But that
itch kept getting fiercer and fiercer. Then, suddenly, an impulse surfaced
from my hidden laboratory of alternative possibilities, and I surrendered to
it. Balancing on my left foot, I scratched my left leg with my right foot,
without missing a note of the "Vivaldi Concerto."
HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015041
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