
In 1943, the cellist, Anita Lasker-Wallfisch was sent to the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp. She expected to be killed in the gas chambers but survived because she was recruited to play in an orchestra set up by the women prisoners. In 2015,...
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Simon Watts
Hello, and welcome to Witness History. This is the podcast that looks back at a key moment in history that's helped to shape our world. Episodes come out every weekday. Make sure you never miss an episode by hitting subscribe and turning on your push notifications. In 2015, Simon Watts took you back to the 1940s and the remarkable story of how music saved a woman's life during the Holocaust.
Narrator
It was the winter of 1943 when Anita Laske was transported to the Auschwitz Birkenau concentration camp. Just 18, she was taken to the processing block for women prisoners.
Anita Laska Wallfish
The sort of ceremony started. You know, your hair is shaved and you get a number tattooed, and this is all done by prisoners. And these prisoners, of course, conversation starts, and who are you? What's your name? And I don't know, like an idiot. But what did you do before the war? Said, well, I used to play the cello, you know, wasn't the right place to even mention the cello, you know. So she said, fantastic. You'll be saved. And she said, you stand here and don't move.
Narrator
Amid the horror of the Nazi concentration camps, music had a special place. The SS encouraged prisoners to set up makeshift orchestras for entertainment and as a propaganda tool to dupe visitors into thinking all was well. By 1943, Auschwitz Birkenau already had a remarkable male orchestra full of virtuosos. Now, a Jewish violinist called Alma Roset was planning something similar for the women. She was the niece of the great composer Gustav Mahler.
Anita Laska Wallfish
By that time, I was naked without hair with a number on my arm. Alma being, because the whole orchestra was a sort of showpiece, was a very reasonably dressed. She. I remember a camarade coat she was wearing. And I didn't really know whether this was a prisoner or not. But then she introduced herself. You know, Alma Rosset. Yeah. She was trying to get this orchestra together.
Interviewer
You'd arrive to the place where you were fully expecting that you would be killed. I know you happened to mention that you play the cello, and then someone says there happens to be an orchestra. I mean, it must have been impossible to take in.
Anita Laska Wallfish
It was impossible to take in. And, yeah, lucky me.
Narrator
A few days later, Alma Rose summoned Anita to an audition. It was a formality for Anita, who'd grown up in a very musical German family, dreaming of a career as a cellist.
Anita Laska Wallfish
I was taken to the music block, and there was a music block, you know, I mean, completely crazy. And so she stuck a cello into my hand and said, play something. Of course, I hadn't touched the cello for two years by then, could only play something slow. You know, I hadn't touched a cello, but I mean, it was no. Wasn't like giving an audition, you know, which I might not pass. She was completely delighted because I came at a time when they didn't have a cello in the orchestra. So I came as a sort of lifesaver. Anybody who could play anything tried to get into this orchestra. Of course, Alma took everybody. It was a sort of possible survival. There were people who could only play the mandolin or something or flute. A very impossible collection of instruments actually to do anything with. For her, it must have been purgatory. Her uncle was Gustav Mahler, and, you know, she came from musical aristocracy, really.
Narrator
But Alma knew she had to make the orchestra good. If she didn't, the players might have been sent to the gas chamber.
Anita Laska Wallfish
We didn't particularly like her because she was so strict. And Alma really had to drill people from nothing to play. You know, some people couldn't read music. The frustration she must have gone through. She was trying to make something that we could possibly survive. Apparently we sounded quite reasonable in the end. On Sundays we had concerts, sometimes in the hospital and sometimes outside we played, you know, light music. But marches, that was our main occupation. Every morning, every evening, we played marches at the gate for the people who marched out to work in the factories. Because, you know that Auschwitz was surrounded by factories. You know, what could happen during the day that anybody of the higher officers could come into the block and wanted to hear some music because I suppose they were exhausted from which is sending people to the gas chamber.
Narrator
One of the visitors was the Auschwitz doctor, Josef Mengele, known as the angel of Death.
Anita Laska Wallfish
He wanted to hear the troemerei. And I was the one who could play the troemerei. So I played the troemerei. To Mengele, It felt like nothing. I thought, here's this guy. I play it as fast as I can. I don't even look at him and I hope he goes out quick. That was all my thoughts as far as I remember.
Interviewer
It seems incredible that music had this role in a place of unconceivable horror.
Anita Laska Wallfish
Yeah, it is inconceivable, also inconceivable, that a man like Mengele even knew that there was a piece called the Trois Marais.
Interviewer
You said that a lot of the music playing you blank things out. Was it soothing to be able to play and indeed hear music in those circumstances?
Anita Laska Wallfish
Definitely. First of all, the way we had to make music and, you know, play well, etc. Already made you concentrate on your music more than on what was going on outside. And then the wonderful thing about music is that you can have it in your head without anybody else even knowing about it. You know, I mean, you can retreat on a sort of island and play the Torschachon shirt or something in my brain where the filth of what was going on won't reach you.
Narrator
Thanks to music, Anita survived a year in Auschwitz Birkenau. But tragically, the founder of the Women's Orchestra didn't survive herself.
Anita Laska Wallfish
Alma appeared, I can see it now for the rehearsal with terrible, terrible headache. And she was taken to the sort of hospital and died a few days later. It was never ever explained and we were actually taken to see her. We, we could walk around her. I mean, it was a very unusual, you know, in a place where millions of people are killed, you're suddenly making a. A performance about one person. Everything was completely mad, really. I mean, even the Germans were very upset. They cherished that famous Alma.
Narrator
After Alma's death, the orchestra was dismantled. Anita Laska, like most of its members, was sent to Belsen. She was liberated there in April 1945. Anita then moved to England where she had a successful career as a cellist and co founded the English Chamber Orchestra.
Interviewer
I wondered, the music that you, that you played there, is that music still inextricably linked up with where you once played it?
Anita Laska Wallfish
People think that I'm then having a nervous breakdown. No, I think that I've heard that before somewhere else.
Interviewer
That music is not in any way tainted for you by the circumstances in
Anita Laska Wallfish
which you can't taint music. You can't actually. Music is untouchable. I mean, that is a wonderful thing. Yeah, the Germans tainted themselves. But music, no, you can't. Nobody's that power.
Simon Watts
Anita Laska Wallfish is the last remaining survivor of the Women's Orchestra of auschwitz. She turned 100 years old in 2025 and spoke to Simon Watts in 2015 for Witness History. If you found this interesting, then you may want to check out some of our other episodes such as I wrote Schindler's List and the death of Adolf Hitler and why not leave us a review. Thanks for listening. From the brilliant and bizarre.
Anita Laska Wallfish
It was really surreal. It was a surreal kind of atmosphere there. You couldn't really see anybody.
Simon Watts
To the shocking and unexpected.
Anita Laska Wallfish
I'm just wondering, what are we going to do now? This was really my worst fear. He found 100% horse meat that was labeled as beef.
Simon Watts
Witness the stories that have shaped our world Told by the people who were there.
Anita Laska Wallfish
When he went to the factory, the poodle went in front of him, so the workers are near. Oh, the boss is here. Many people had many things to lose by our victory. The future was not so bright.
Simon Watts
Witness History.
Anita Laska Wallfish
We had a designer, he brought in a fully storyboarded idea about how the Queen would arrive by jumping out of a helicopter. And we all said, that's brilliant, but it's never going to happen.
Simon Watts
Witness history@bbcworldservice.com witness history or wherever you get your podcasts.
Host: Simon Watts
Guest: Anita Laska Wallfish (Holocaust survivor, cellist, and member of the Women’s Orchestra at Auschwitz)
Date: July 31, 2026
Length: ~9 minutes
This episode of Witness History centers on Anita Laska Wallfish’s powerful account of surviving Auschwitz-Birkenau by joining—and eventually helping to form—the Women’s Orchestra within the notorious concentration camp. Through archive audio, Anita recounts her experiences: from her arrival and dehumanization in Auschwitz, the extraordinary and fraught role of music within the camp, to the tragic fate of the orchestra’s founder, Alma Rosé. The episode highlights the inconceivable conditions, the daily reality of life and death decisions, the solace and danger of music, and the untouchable purity of art in the face of unspeakable horror.
“I don't know, like an idiot. But what did you do before the war? Said, well, I used to play the cello, you know, wasn't the right place to even mention the cello, you know. So she said, fantastic. You'll be saved.”
– Anita Laska Wallfish [00:42]
“Anybody who could play anything tried to get into this orchestra. Of course, Alma took everybody. It was a sort of possible survival.”
– Anita Laska Wallfish [02:42]
"Her uncle was Gustav Mahler... she came from musical aristocracy, really. But Alma knew she had to make the orchestra good. If she didn't, the players might have been sent to the gas chamber."
– Anita Laska Wallfish [03:48]
"I play it as fast as I can. I don't even look at him and I hope he goes out quick.”
– Anita Laska Wallfish [05:12]
"The wonderful thing about music is that you can have it in your head without anybody else even knowing about it... you can retreat on a sort of island... where the filth of what was going on won’t reach you.”
– Anita Laska Wallfish [06:11]
“In a place where millions of people are killed, you’re suddenly making a performance about one person. Everything was completely mad, really.”
– Anita Laska Wallfish [07:05]
“You can't taint music. Music is untouchable. I mean, that is a wonderful thing. The Germans tainted themselves. But music, no, you can't. Nobody’s that power.”
– Anita Laska Wallfish [08:29]
On Survival:
"Anybody who could play anything tried to get into this orchestra. Of course, Alma took everybody. It was a sort of possible survival."
– Anita Laska Wallfish [02:42]
On Mengele and Music:
"He wanted to hear the Träumerei. And I was the one who could play the Träumerei. So I played the Träumerei to Mengele... I play it as fast as I can. I don't even look at him and I hope he goes out quick."
– Anita Laska Wallfish [05:12]
On the Power of Music:
"Music is untouchable... The Germans tainted themselves. But music, no, you can’t. Nobody’s that power."
– Anita Laska Wallfish [08:29]
The episode is somber yet dignified, balancing the unspeakable inhumanity of Auschwitz with moments of small but profound human resistance through art. Anita’s recollections are marked by a wry humor, humility, and an awe at the surreal nature of her survival. The host allows her voice and emotion to drive the narrative, offering listeners an unvarnished oral history from one of the last living members of the Women’s Orchestra of Auschwitz.
This episode is a haunting reminder of music’s power to offer hope, identity, and survival—even in the darkest times. Anita Laska Wallfish’s story illustrates not only the cruelty orchestrated by the Nazis but the unbroken spirit and artistry that endured in defiance of it.