A Shepherd’s Daughter, a Rare Clarinet, and a Castle Full of Music
A story about warmth, memory, and the quiet way music opens the heart — and a door into another world.
Some stories begin not with paper.
Not with a plot.
But with people.
Earlier this month, I attended a Schubertiade at the Schubert Schloss Atzenbrugg, a quiet estate once frequented by Franz Schubert himself. As the music filled the baroque room, a memory surfaced. Not a musical one, but a personal one:
Years ago, I met Ildikó Raimondi not onstage, but in a classroom.
She was already a celebrated soprano at the Vienna State Opera. I was her English teacher.
What I remember most was not her voice, though it’s a voice that has graced opera houses around the world, but her presence.
Warm. Grounded.
She spoke openly about her father, a shepherd in a small Hungarian town in Romania.
About childhood. Identity. Language. Music as a bridge between worlds.
She invited my husband and me to hear her sing, as her guests, in Der Rosenkavalier and Anton and Punktchen at the Staatsoper.
She gifted me a CD of Wienerlieder, Vienna folk songs sung with grace and sincerity.
I never forgot her.
And meeting her again in Atzenbrugg, I realized she hadn’t changed.
Still warm. Still generous. Still completely present.
The Night Music Sparked a Story
The concert in Atzenbrugg wasn’t just a performance.
It was a gift.
Led by Ildikó Raimondi, now also a professor at the Mozarteum, the evening was a revival of the old Schubertiade tradition, intimate, soulful, and filled with heart.
The ensemble was exquisite:
🎻 KS Ildikó Raimondi (Soprano)
🎶 Günter Haumer (Baritone & Alt-Wiener Knöpferlharmonika)
🎶 Philharmonia Schrammeln Wien:
Johannes Tomböck (1st Violin)
Dominik Hellsberg (2nd Violin)
Stefan Neubauer (Clarinet in G — the rare Pick süsses Hölzl)
Heinz Hromada (Kontragitarre)
It was Stefan Neubauer who showed me his instrument with kind, quiet enthusiasm.
A small clarinet in G, whimsical and haunting in its tone. He even let me photograph it.
That sound, that room, that gesture — something stirred.
And just like that, a new story began in my mind.
A Museum. A Group of Children. And a Moment Out of Time.
What if a school visit turned into time travel?
I saw it so clearly:
A group of children wandering the Atzenbrugg museum.
The hush of a summer afternoon.
A moment when music fills the air and the walls seem to flicker.
Suddenly they’re in Schubert’s world. Cotillons. Candlelight. Secrets in the staff lines of a song.
The spark became a story seed, one that I’ve started to sketch.
🎧 Listen Along
If you’d like to experience some of what I heard that night, here’s more:
✨ Before This Story Comes… Another is Almost Ready
As I sat in the castle that night, I wasn’t just remembering.
I was also imagining.
Many of you already know I'm building a world of time-travel stories set in Vienna. But alongside that, I’ve been quietly composing another kind of tale, one filled with music, tradition, covenants… and cats. Magical ones.
🐾 The Czardas Cats & the Magical Violin is a deeply personal children’s story inspired by Hungarian Czardas music, multicultural heritage, and the experience of helping children deal with bias and how tradition can grow.
It’s a historical fiction tale wrapped in the rhythm of a czárdás, laced with tenderness and transformation.
🎁 And the first sneak peek will be released very soon, only to email subscribers.
If you’d like to be among the first to read it, and get behind-the-scenes notes, visuals, and the story behind the story, just make sure you’re subscribed.
The link is here and below.
🎧 Prefer something shorter to begin with?
You can still download Whispers in the Maze, a short time-travel story set in a Viennese garden maze — a perfect introduction to the Understanding Vienna world.
Both are available free for subscribers.
📥 [Download Whispers in the Maze]
📥 [Sign up for The Czardas Cats Sneak Peek]
🎻 What Stories Are Stirring in Your Memory?
Has music ever pulled you back in time?
Do you have a song that brings back a moment, a person, or a place?
👉 Reply to this email or leave a comment — I read every one, and I may even weave your memory into a future story.
Until next time — with music, memory, and magic from Vienna,
Yolanda