As the Nazis rose to power in 1930s Germany, they sought to subjugate and eliminate all those they deemed inferior or undesirable. Millions of Jews, Roma, homosexuals, political dissidents and others were targeted for persecution and ultimately extermination in the horrific system of concentration camps and death camps. But amidst the unfathomable suffering and cruelty, small glimmers of hope and humanity somehow endured – even through music.
In an astonishing testament to the resilience of the human spirit, imprisoned musicians in Auschwitz managed to form six different orchestras, commissioned by the Nazis to play as people were marched to labor sites and gas chambers. Recently, a London-based composer named Leo Geyer embarked on a years-long mission to track down and piece together the fragmented remnants of musical scores from Auschwitz, culminating in the Sky Arts documentary The Lost Music of Auschwitz.
Through exhaustive research in archives and interviews with survivors, Geyer painstakingly reconstructed these long-lost works, many unheard for 80 years since the camp’s liberation. For the first time in generations, Geyer conducted special performances of this music – arias, tangos, popular songs of the day. “You suddenly remembered that there is a world that we used to know,” recalled one woman who survived Auschwitz upon hearing the unearthed melodies.
The documentary stands as a profound tribute to the prisoners who somehow found a way, under the most appalling circumstances, to cling to their humanity and identity through music. It spotlights unsung heroes like Alma Rosé, a renowned violin virtuoso who led the women’s orchestra and spared her musicians from hard labor and gas chambers, only to perish herself.
Music as resistance and resilience
The music played in Auschwitz served varying purposes for both captives and captors. The Nazis cruelly exploited the orchestras as propaganda to visiting Red Cross inspectors, as perverted accompaniment to mass murder, and to regulate the tempo as exhausted prisoners marched to work sites.
But for the musicians themselves, continuing to play served as an vital act of defiance, dignity and self-preservation. “We felt human again,” remembered Anita Lasker-Wallfisch, a cellist in the women’s orchestra. The music provided a mental escape and connection to their previous lives and identities.
We played music which reminded us that there is a life beyond the barbed wire, and for a couple of hours we forgot where we were.
– Esther Bejarano, Auschwitz survivor and orchestra member
Continuing to make music in secret also served as resistance, whether singing defiant lyrics the Nazis couldn’t understand or playing subversive melodies. It fostered solidarity and reminded them that the Nazis could not extinguish their spirits.
Ensuring the horrors are never forgotten
As the last living Holocaust survivors dwindle and time marches on, preserving the memory of what transpired becomes ever more vital. Recovering the lost music of Auschwitz, played by prisoners in the most dire straits, offers a uniquely powerful and vivid lens into their experiences and the unbreakable spark of hope.
Projects like Geyer’s aim to keep the reality of the Holocaust tangible and ensure the victims’ suffering and strength is never erased. As survivor Renee Salt reflects in the BBC documentary What Happened at Auschwitz marking the 80th anniversary of Auschwitz-Birkenau’s liberation:
Instead of hate, I learn to love life and people, and hope everybody lives in peace.
– Renee Salt, Auschwitz survivor
The lost music of Auschwitz, now found and played again, amplifies that message across decades. It transforms from melodies of momentary solace for the doomed into enduring anthems of remembrance, warning and hope. The notes defiantly proclaim that the prisoners’ humanity could never be silenced and will reverberate long after living memory fades, imploring us to never let such horror happen again.
