Their community in ashes, the Palisades Symphony finds solace in music

When Denisa Hanna opened the text and saw images of the flames and smoke of Palisades’ fire, she knew she had to cancel the rehearsal.

Her home in Midtown is safe, but the photos are from the evacuated Palisade Lutheran minister. The road is stuck, The wind is how.

“Please stay safe and say prayers to our friends near this horrible disaster,” Hanna, president of the Palisade Symphony Orchestra, wrote in an email to its members.

They had planned to gather in the church on Sunset Avenue that night, their first New Year practice. For nearly 60 years, the All-Volunteer Orchestra has provided the community with a series of annual programs, with their first concert in 2025 just a few weeks.

The impossible and inspiring band of 70 members grew from a fledgling adult education program in a local high school to a beloved institution through the hard work of its founders Joel Lish and Eva Holberg. Lish died in 2024, two years ago, but the symphony orchestra is still playing.

But now, as the embers turned to the flames and the flames running towards the sea, its future had become dark, and the music they liked was silent.

The next day, Hanna, who also performed in The Orchestra, sent another email. Even if the Palisade Lutheran Church was not burned, their community and members’ homes were in ashes.

“I’m not sure about rehearsals because of the devastating nature. We may not even be able to get into the Palisades for a while,” she wrote.

As the band began to reconnect, the scope of the disaster became increasingly obvious.

“We lost the house,” first violinist Helen Bendix wrote in a brief email, and wrote to music director and conductor Maxim Kuzin.

Bendix is ​​one of the 16 members of the symphony, one of the choirs that lost their homes. On the fence and Eaton The fire that week lost more than 16,000 structures. At least 29 people were killed.

After this tragedy, the musicians want to know that even – they can continue.

Violins and viola must be saved. On the morning of the fire, Bendix grabbed them and went to their car with her husband. The instruments are connections with her mother, who played cello and died in 2020. At the age of 72, Bendix was not lost.

The impulse is as close to her instinct as she feels, even if she thinks their home will be safe. What remains are portraits of her grandmother, photos of her family, jewelry, wardrobe and life’s less emotional essentials, reading music, tax records, medicines, passports and glasses in cars.

From 7 miles from West Where the Palisade fire began In Temescal Canyon, Ingemar Hulthage didn’t catch his violin. As the fire progressed, he and his partner Melinda Singer shrouded their cats, loaded them in the car and went from Cul-de-sac west of Topanga Go home and drive, hoping they can return.

He never thought the flames would drive like they did. He lost his home in the 1993 Malibu fire – His most precious fagnola violin – But he returned and rebuilt, installed the sprinkler system and purchased another violin.

Hulthage was approached by a friend of Van Nuys, hoping that history won’t be repeated. But the video of the neighbors filmed a day later confirmed the loss. There is no water in the sprinkler.

Just as hundreds of families in Los Angeles lost everything overnight and life got higher and higher, Hulthage and Bendix would soon cause losses and look for a living Local, stable and stable.

When Maxim Kuzin started receiving emails from band members asking when rehearsals would resume, he wasn’t sure how to answer. He worked in the band for a year and has always felt power in the dedication of its members.

He lives in Gardena, away from destruction, but knows how much trouble the loss may cause. He immigrated from Ukraine in 2014, when Russia annexed Crimea, but felt that he had never really left. So he was stunned when news last year that he was hit by a missile in his childhood home in Kiev.

Maybe music can help you. He thought of what he planned in December: Mykola Lysenko’s Taras Bulba Overture, Mykola Lysenko is a concerto of Edvard Grieg and César Franck’s symphony in D minor. Maybe like Musicians who were besieged by Sarajevo In 1992, they were still performing on the frontline, and they could also shake their fists in the power of chaos and destruction.

“Recognizing the comfort and power of musical recreation, we decided to resume rehearsals as early as Tuesday, January 14,” he wrote in an email to the band.

When Bendix read these words, she felt a sense of relief. Moving forward sometimes means no turning back.

She replied, “We need to get together.” Hopefully she doesn’t get too rusted.

Without his violin, Hallsach wondered if he could play it. He joined the band about 25 years ago. As a second violin, he considers himself an amateur, but he always feels at home with musicians.

Hannah knew she could help.

Many other musicians have preserved instruments. A friend who plays bass and has some electric bass – even lost his home and even jokes. “In this motel room, I have more bass than my underwear,” he said.

As a violinist – specializing in repairing string instruments – Hanna has a violin that she can provide Hulthage with violin. He was overcome.

“This is the most normal thing I feel since the fire,” he said.

Now they have a month to prepare.

Four weeks later, on the day of the concert, Hulthage purchased a tuxedo, but it has not changed as he helped pick up the chair at Transept at Westwood United Methodist Church. . Although their performance space, the Lutheran Church in Palisade, Pacific, remained intact, had been cleaned for months and scented with smoke.

Guest soloist Alexander Wasserman practiced the Grieg Concerto, chords like Thunderclaps, from the Grand Piano, a gorgeous black lake wine, Shigeru Kawai, Donated for this show.

Two men fell three large Timpani drums and walked up to the space in front of the altar. Another man manipulates the harp into the choir. In the vestibule, Katie Rudner folds the program to arrive at the guest and distributes the envelope for inspection and helps with the cost of Venmo. Donations will be put on hold to help musicians and community members.

At 7 p.m., Bendix arrived, wearing a black sequined skirt, jacket, scarf and earrings, and introduced her to her after the fire. She found her seat in the second row and began heating her violin that her mother gave her 25 years ago.

Kuzin welcomed his friends and kind-hearted people in an embroidered Ukrainian shirt. Over 200 visitors slowly filled the sanctuary, and Hanna addressed the audience at 7:30, first thanking people for using the use of the church and admiring the many who helped make the night possible. Then she stepped off the stage and walked to the place where the bass stood.

Kuzin lifted his baton.

The band had two raised notes, then two more, and then began Lysenko’s heroic preface, with the intensity of strings and horns, its power quickly swelled to a striking closure when its lyrical grandeur Magnificence gradually emerged.

As the applause faded, Cujin spent a little time talking to the audience. The works of Ukrainian composers are rarely performed in the United States, which arouses the pride of conductors.

“I hope you understand why the Ukrainians cannot lose the war. He said before welcoming Wasserman.

After the halftime, Kuzin called on the audience for his financial support, briefly speaking about the fire and those who lost everything.

“I hope some of us now live in a different world than all of us in this period,” he said. “Finally hope will reveal some meaning to those who suffer.”

The key to the D minor of Frank’s symphony is melancholy as the violin tries to lift the melody from the darker, deeper notes. Crescendos’s overwhelming power ruptures like musicians and audiences.

The second movement is breathing, opening with a harp and pulled strings. The British horn sends out a simple, simple melody, as if trying to evoke an earlier memory of almost forgotten time.

The third movement is cultivation. In short, musicians give the sense of possibility that one day they might return to their lost homes, and the community that embraced them about 60 years ago.

The audience applauded and cheered. Cuzin brushed his brows, Hurtach, Bendix, Hannah and the rest of the band stood and bowed.