An Evening with Itzhak Perlman: The Violin Legend's Life Story, Told Through Music

If you don't know who Itzhak Perlman is, your parents and grandparents definitely do. Born in 1945, Perlman was the Michael Jordan of classical violin for an entire generation. He was the prodigy, the household name, the musician who transcended the concert hall and became part of popular culture. At 80 years old, he's still performing, and his latest show at Walt Disney Concert Hall proved why his reputation hasn't faded one bit. But this wasn't your typical classical concert. Not even close.

Forget everything you think you know about classical music performances. Perlman, accompanied by pianist Rohan De Silva, created something that felt more like a one-man documentary than a traditional recital. The 90-minute evening (no intermission) split time evenly between live violin performances and intimate storytelling, complete with rare home videos, personal photographs, and enough humor to keep the crowd engaged from start to finish.

The format worked brilliantly. Perlman would share a chapter of his life, show a video or photo, crack a joke, and then perform a piece directly connected to that moment in his story. It flowed naturally, never feeling forced or overly rehearsed. This was a master storyteller who just happened to be one of the greatest violinists alive.

Perlman's origin story reads like something out of a movie. His parents moved to Tel Aviv before he was born, where his mother convinced his father to open a barbershop. She was the trained barber. He wasn't. They lived in a tiny room across the street, and that's where young Itzhak entered the world.

His first love was singing, not violin. When he got his first violin, it sounded terrible, so he shoved it under his bed and forgot about it. Then polio changed everything. After contracting the disease and losing strength in his legs, he picked the violin back up. His parents found him a teacher on the Tel Aviv boardwalk (Perlman jokes it wasn't exactly a quality education), but it got him started.

Food and music became the two constants in his life, and both themes wove through the evening's narrative. When he'd perform as a child, his reward was a boiled quarter chicken from his mom. They didn't have much money, surviving on bread and simple meals, but every Friday his mother would make gefilte fish. On Thursday nights, she'd buy a live carp that would swim in their bathtub until Friday morning. These details painted a picture of struggle, resilience, and family love that made his later success feel earned.

The big break came when Ed Sullivan sent scouts to Israel looking for talent. At 13, Perlman made it to the finals, performed for Sullivan himself, and got flown to New York for the Ed Sullivan Show. He performed one of those pieces Monday night, bringing the story full circle. That appearance launched his American career, leading to tours and eventually admission to Juilliard under an exceptional teacher.

To make money, he did commercials. A cookie ad at 12. A Sara Lee croissant spot later on. He shared these moments without pretense, mixing the glamorous with the mundane in a way that felt refreshingly honest. Here was one of the world's most celebrated musicians admitting he hawked baked goods on TV to pay the bills.

Between stories, Perlman and De Silva delivered stunning musical performances. While the program wasn't listed in advance, the pieces ranged from early works (including one his parents loved from his beginner book) to more substantial repertoire, with what appeared to be a Brahms piece as an encore.

But the emotional peak came with the finale: the theme from Schindler's List. Perlman explained how John Williams called him to play on Steven Spielberg's film, and then he performed the haunting melody that's become one of cinema's most recognizable pieces. The mostly 50-and-over audience rose for a standing ovation, many visibly moved.

He also shared stories about playing with Billy Joel at Madison Square Garden and his work on Sesame Street, where he demonstrated to children that some things easy for them (like climbing stairs) were harder for him, but playing violin came easier to him than to others. His message about disability never felt preachy. It just felt real.

Classical concerts can feel intimidating or, honestly, a bit boring if you're not already into the genre. Long pieces, formal atmosphere, lots of sitting quietly. This show demolished those barriers. Perlman's comedy timing was sharp. He showed a video of himself struggling through airports and venues, narrating the challenges of traveling with leg braces and crutches. After talking about playing charity events at Juilliard, he told a joke about a man who pledged money to a fundraiser but hadn't paid yet. When his wife worries their plane might crash on an uncharted island, she asks if he paid. He says no. She replies, "Then they'll find us." The audience roared.

The Walt Disney Concert Hall itself added to the experience. The venue's acoustics are world-class, and the intimate setting made Perlman's storytelling feel like a conversation with 2,000 close friends.

Early on in the night, Perlman shared photos of children in iron lungs, acknowledging that his polio outcome could have been much worse. He spoke about waking up one morning unable to get up, confused and scared. Compared to those kids in iron lungs, he was lucky. His closing message stuck with everyone: "Don't focus on your disabilities. Focus on your abilities."

Coming from someone who's spent eight decades proving that principle, the words carried serious weight. If you get a chance to see Perlman perform, go. Even if classical music isn't your thing. Even if you've never heard of him. This show proved that great artists can transcend genre boundaries and connect with anyone willing to listen. At 80, he's not slowing down, and if this multimedia format is any indication, he's still finding new ways to share his gift.

Your parents were right about this one. Itzhak Perlman really is the greatest. And now you'll understand why.

Review by: Zachary Sender, Photos Courtesy of: LA Philharmonic