published 24/02/2014 at 19:16 GMT by Christopher Nupen
Concert pianist who, with her son, survived two years in Terezín concentration camp
Alice Herz-Sommer making her debut in 1924
Alice Herz-Sommer, who has died aged 110, was a concert pianist of distinction whose career was blighted by
nazism. In 1943 she was imprisoned in the Terezín concentration camp, near Prague, with her six-year-old son, Raphael, and was one of the very few survivors – in part because she was a musician.
What she did in the camp and subsequently, recorded in a book and in two films I made with her, We Want the Light (2004) and Everything is a Present (2010), made her famous in many parts of the
world and won her a treasured place in the hearts of hundreds of thousands of people.
She was born in Prague, one of five children, including a twin sister, of Friedrich and Sofie Herz, and was known as Gigi (hard "gs") from the age of five – for reasons which she could not
remember. She liked the name and it seemed to generate affection for her wherever she went. At the age of six she began learning the piano, and by her teens was teaching and performing as a
pianist. Her father owned a factory for producing weights and scales but lost everything in the first world war. The family consequently suffered the most severe deprivation – "and so we
realised, as little children, what is war."
In 1931 Alice married Leopold Sommer, an amateur violinist. She said that she was bowled over by his
compendious knowledge of art and music. Their marriage was a happy one and they had a son whom they called Stephan, later changed to Raphael. "But I was always ugly," she said. "My twin sister
was very beautiful. We understood each other perfectly and we loved each other very much but she was a pessimist and so she died at 74. If you are a pessimist the whole organism is in a tension
all the time."
Alice was separated from her husband in Terezín and he later died of typhus in Dachau concentration camp, Germany, six weeks before the end of the war. A friend kept his spoon and
later gave it to Alice. She cherished it until her last day.
In Terezín, she played more than 100 concerts and wondered perpetually at the power of music in those unimaginable circumstances – something truly extraordinary that brought both performers and
listeners a sense of being close to the divine – and something that she had not experienced before. After the liberation of the camp, Alice emigrated to Israel, where she built a happy career performing in concerts, teaching and giving radio
recitals.
A fair percentage of her pupils remained in affectionate contact with her until the end of her life.
Raphael became a virtuoso cellist and, in 1986, Alice moved to London to be with her son who, in addition to
his solo career, held teaching posts in London and Manchester. He died in 2001 at the age of 64. One wonders what impact having so little to eat during his sixth and seventh years might have had
on his health. One of her techniques for coming to terms with the loss was to thank nature for sparing her son the pain of declining years as a cellist.
Her book, Ein Garten Eden inmitten der Hölle (A Garden of Eden in Hell, 2006), based on her experiences, written with Melissa Müller and Reinhard Piechocki following hundreds of hours of
interviews and phone conversations, has been published in seven languages.
When Alice was 98, she became the star of We Want the Light, produced by my company Allegro Films, which won
four international prizes – in large measure because of her. We collaborated again on Everything is a Present, which also won four prizes, once again because of her wisdom, her charm, her
gravitas and the depth of her perceptions. The Lady in Number 6: Music Saved My Life (2013), a documentary about her life directed by Malcolm Clarke, has been nominated in the best documentary
short category in this year's Academy Awards.
Alice lived alone in a small flat in London. For years, she swam every day and attended philosophy classes three days each week – walking to both. She attributed her longevity to two things: her
optimism and music. "The life of a musician is a privilege. Of this I am sure, because, from the morning to the evening and from the evening to the morning, the musician is occupied with the most
beautiful thing coming from mankind – music."
Asked what she had learned in her long life, she would reply: "To know the difference between what is important and what is not important." Her optimism was tempered by only one thing: "I am an
optimist in all things except one. People don't learn, they don't learn."
Alice is survived by two grandsons, David and Ariel Sommer.
Alice Herz-Sommer, pianist, born 26 November 1903; died 23 February 2014