The New York Times - Patricia Travers, shown in 1946, stopped performing in public by the early 1950s, giving no notice and never explaining why.
March 7, 2010
Patricia Travers, Violinist Who Vanished, Dies at 82
By MARGALIT FOX
At 11, the violinist Patricia Travers made her first solo appearance with the New York Philharmonic, playing Lalo’s “Symphonie Espagnole” with “a purity of tone, breadth of line and immersion in her task,” as a critic for The New York Times wrote in 1939. At 13, she appeared in “There’s Magic in Music,” a Hollywood comedy set in a music camp. Released in 1941 and starring Allan Jones, the film features Patricia, chosen by audition from hundreds of child performers, playing with passionate intensity.
Quite an amazing video, that.
In her early 20s, for the Columbia label, she made the first complete recording of f Charles Ives’s Sonata No.2 for Violin and Piano, a modern American work requiring a mature musical intelligence. Not long afterward, she disappeared. Between the ages of 10 and 23, Ms. Travers appeared with many of the world’s leading orchestras, including the New York, London and Berlin Philharmonics and the Boston and Chicago Symphonies. She performed on national radio broadcasts, gave premieres of music written expressly for her and made several well-received records.
Then ... nothing, a six-decade-long silence that lasted from the early 1950s until Ms. Travers’s death on Feb. 9 at 82. Her death, of cancer, in a Montclair, N.J., nursing home, was confirmed by her lawyer, John Sullivan. Ms. Travers, who never married, leaves no immediate survivors.
Ms. Travers disappeared by hiding in plain sight, living quietly with her parents in the house in Clifton, N.J., in which she had grown up. She remained there till well past middle age, through the death of her father in the 1980s and her mother in 1995. Afterward, she moved to a condominium nearby. By all accounts, Ms. Travers rarely spoke of her career. As her obituary last month in The Record of Hackensack, N.J., reported, neighbors knew her only as the reserved owner and manager of a commercial property in Clifton she had inherited from her parents.
That obit is worth looking at, for a different take: Carnegie Hall was atwitter as Patricia Travers — an 11-year-old from Clifton with brown curls and an angel’s face — ascended the stage Patricia, who took up violin at age 4, performed the Mendelssohn Concerto with the National Orchestral Association "to a rapturous and prolonged demonstration," Olin Downes wrote in The New York Times on Jan. 16, 1940. The performance helped propel a career as brilliant as it was fleeting.
Curious, the Hackensack obit quotes the Times critics, and the Times does not.
Why Ms. Travers gave up the violin will never be fully known. But it is possible to make an educated guess, based on old newspaper accounts of her career (reading between the lines), and on the work of contemporary psychologists who study gifted children. As psychologists have found, a prodigy’s life is defined by a particular narrative arc — one that often ends, as Ms. Travers’s did, with early promise unfulfilled.
“Prodigies are much less likely to go on to become major famous creative geniuses than they are to become unheard-of and drop out,” Ellen Winner, a professor of psychology at Boston College, said in a telephone interview on Friday. “What it takes to become a prodigy is very different from what it takes to become a major creative adult.” She added, “Most do not make that leap.”
An only child, Patricia Travers was born in Clifton on Dec. 5, 1927. (The year is often given erroneously as 1928; it was common then for prodigies to be billed as younger than they really were.) Her father, Samuel, was a lawyer, semiprofessional singer and accomplished violin maker. Her mother, the former Veronica Quinlan, is described in some accounts as having been an amateur pianist.
Patricia began violin lessons at 3½, eventually studying with the violinists Jacques Gordon and Hans Letz. At 6, she gave her first public concert, at Music Mountain, the summer chamber music festival in Falls Village, Conn. At 10, she performed on national radio with the Detroit Symphony under John Barbirolli. At 11, Patricia was already playing a violin made by Guarneri del Gesù; before she was out of her teens, she also had a Stradivarius.
One of the few people alive who performed with Ms. Travers then is Lorin Maazel, who stepped down last year as music director of the New York Philharmonic. Mr. Maazel, who turned 80 on Saturday, led the Pittsburgh Symphony several times as a child conductor, with Ms. Travers as the child soloist. “Patricia was a soulful artist, mature and poised,” Mr. Maazel wrote from Europe in a recent e-mail message. “One didn’t think of her as a child prodigy.”
If the young Ms. Travers was “reticent and somewhat withdrawn,” as Mr. Maazel recalled, onstage she came alive with a fire that drew praise from most critics. Writing in 1939, when she was 11, the journal Violins and Violinists rhapsodized, “We feel sure that the prophecy that Patricia Travers is to become known as one of the great women violinists will be fully realized.” But with such prophecies comes great pressure, and many prodigies eventually undergo a psychological crisis. “It hits at adolescence,” said Professor Winner, the author of “Gifted Children: Myths and Realities” (Basic Books, 1996). “That’s when they say: ‘Who am I doing this for? My parents or me?’ ”
At that point, prodigies often stop playing. Ms. Travers, however, appeared to make it through her teenage years. She became a specialist in modern American music at a time when few performers gave it much thought. She recorded work by Ives, Roger Sessions and Norman Dello Joio. In 1947, at Carnegie Hall, she gave the premiere of “Incantation and Dance,” written for her by the Hawaiian-born composer Dai-Keong Lee. But when she was in her early 20s, her notices, once glowing, grew more measured. In 1951 The Christian Science Monitor reviewed a performance of the Brahms Violin Concerto by Ms. Travers, then 23, with the Boston Symphony: “Miss Travers at present appears to be in an intermediate position between two extremes,” the review said. “On the one hand her foundational studies are well in the past; she is obviously a professional who is competing very well among her peers. On the other hand she is not yet either a brilliant technician nor a compelling interpreter.”
The Boston engagement appeared to have been her last with a major orchestra. “She gradually dropped from sight,” Mr. Maazel recalled. “Don’t know why. Probably, as happens in most early-career artists, she just lost motivation and perhaps went in quest of the proverbial lost childhood.” Ms. Travers’s Strad and Guarneri passed to other hands long ago. At her death, she had just one violin left — not a valuable one, her lawyer, Mr. Sullivan, remembered her saying. The only person for whom Ms. Travers seems to have played as she grew older, he said, was her mother.
An earlier version of this article misspelled the Guarneri family name as Guarnari.
The Hackensack obit continues:
Patricia Travers, an only child, stayed put in Clifton with her parents, Samuel and Veronica. She never married. When she died on Feb. 9, at 82, she was remembered not as an incandescent talent but as an attentive Allwood Road landlady. Miss Travers tended the small row of tan-brick stores her father, a lawyer, built in 1950. She became more involved in managing the property after her father died in 1981 and her mother in 1994.
One of the stores is Allwood Florist. Kathy Milne, an employee there, knew Miss Travers for 17 years. She had no idea Miss Travers once had the world at her feet. "How many people Google their landlord?" Milne said. "She was just the nice lady you sent the check to." Googling helped Wayne lawyer John Sullivan learn more about his client of nearly 40 years.
Google your landlord.
Also unable to shed light on Miss Travers’ career was Joshua Bell According to Cozio.com, a Web site that identifies and prices old stringed instruments, the 42-year-old international star and Miss Travers had a violin in common: the 1732 "Tom Taylor" Stradivarius. Miss Travers owned it from 1945 to 1954. Bell owned it from 1987 to 2001, when he reportedly sold it for a little over $2 million. Through his spokeswoman, Bell said he never heard of Patricia Travers.
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