Between Two Worlds: Hellmut Stern in Harbin

Refugee in Manchuria, Bar Pianist in Tel Aviv, and Concertmaster of the Berlin Philharmonic: A lifelong Journey of Artistry, Survival, and Reconciliation

Hellmut Stern was born in May 1928 in Berlin into a Jewish family. His father initially worked as a bank clerk before becoming a music teacher in 1929. His mother came from a fairly rich family and was a pianist and piano teacher. At first, he grew up like any other child at the time, but when the Nazis seized power in 1933, he was excluded from many aspects of life. 

In 1936/37, the family's financial situation worsened due to professional bans imposed on Jews. The Sterns lived mainly on support from the Jewish community and ate at a Jewish soup kitchen. Still, music was the family’s lifeblood. Friends would gather in the Sterns’ apartment to make music together. At the age of five, Hellmut Stern began playing piano and violin, and his great talent soon became evident.

Hellmut Stern at a playground in Berlin, 1930 ©PH Luzern

In the spring and summer of 1938, the ten-year-old Hellmut Stern still experienced moments of adventure: While his parents thought he was at school, he explored parts of Berlin on his own. However, the November Pogrom of 1938 (Kristallnacht) brought this time of relative freedom to a definitive end. Jewish shops were looted and destroyed, and synagogues and schools were burned. Students and teachers alike were pelted with stones by members of the Hitler Youth.

Soon after the Nazis came to power in 1933, the family had sought opportunities to emigrate, first to Palestine, then to countries "all over the world," including to the USA. But nearly everywhere, strict immigration policies were in place, and it became increasingly difficult to escape. 

"I still remember how my parents sent out immigration applications all over the world. Every morning when the postman came, there was excitement. I would run to meet him because I wanted to be the first—partly because of the beautiful stamps from all sorts of countries, like Uruguay or Venezuela. I always wanted to read the letters aloud. (…) My father would grow impatient, snatch the letter from my hands, and—yet another rejection! These repeated disappointments left a deep impression on me."

The Sterns also lacked the financial means to emigrate, as they had barely any income since 1933. Finally, Ilse Stern obtained a fictitious contract stating she could work as a pianist in Harbin, China. This was enough to secure a visa for her and the family. The journey almost didn’t happen because the Sterns couldn’t afford the travel costs, but at the last moment, thanks to the help of Hellmut’s violin teacher Gerda Bischof, they managed to gather the necessary funds to leave.

The "Conte Biancamano", the ship that would take the Stern family to Shanghai

Escape to China

On November 21, 1938, the Stern family embarked on the long journey to an uncertain future. Their escape began at Berlin’s Anhalter Station, on a train heading south. Crossing into Italy at the Brenner Pass, Helmut’s parents were detained by Nazis and subjected to body searches, terrified of further harassment or being prevented from travelling. But finally, in the port of Genoa, the family was able to board a large oceanliner, the Conte Biancamano, which was carrying both tourists and refugees.

From Port Said, a port city in northeastern Egypt, the Sterns hoped to flee illegally to Palestine, but that plan never materialized. The journey continued on to Bombay, where Jewish emigrants were forbidden from disembarking by British officers, then on to Sri Lanka, Singapore and Hong Kong. In late December 1938, the refugees finally arrived in Shanghai. Stern’s strongest memory of their arrival was the damp, biting cold. A relief committee assigned them a shabby living space, but Hellmut was taken in by the Toueg family, one of Shanghai’s wealthiest households, where he felt "like in paradise." His parents, however, fared much worse during this time. His mother even fell critically ill with dysentery. Eventually, Mr. Toueg offered to support the entire family and suggested they stay in Shanghai instead of continuing to Harbin. But Stern’s father insisted on pushing forward.

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Aboard the Conte Biancamano, 1938

"The ship was filled with German tourists traveling first or second class, while we refugees were crammed into steerage. The constant stress made my father seriously ill—he suffered a heart attack. Still, we were happy because we were free." (Hellmut Stern)

 

Photo ©PH Luzern

Life in Exile 

With their arrival in Harbin, the Sterns began eleven long years of exile. At first, the family held on to hope of eventually fleeing to Palestine or the U.S., but these hopes never materialized.
Harbin had emerged in the late 19th century as a hub along the Trans-Siberian Railway. It quickly grew as Manchurian locals, Russian and Eastern European immigrants (many working on the railway), and Chinese settlers flocked to the city. During the Russian Civil War (1918–1922), thousands of refugees from the former Russian Empire and nearly every European nation poured into Harbin. By the mid-1920s, Harbin had become a mid-sized Russian-flavored city with international flair on Chinese soil, earning it the nickname "Paris of the Far East." The Trans-Siberian Railway fueled a thriving foreign trade.
 

Harbin Station, around 1940

Most Europeans, including Jewish immigrants who played a key role in the city’s cultural life, lived in Harbin’s Russian quarter. Among them were around a hundred Jewish refugees from Germany and Austria, who found sanctuary there. Relations between the Russian and Jewish communities were generally positive and marked by shared celebrations and mutual visits. Meanwhile, in the Chinese part of the city, economic and cultural life remained largely under local influence. While the Chinese population provided essential services, they were often met with European arrogance and discrimination.

From 1932 to 1945, Harbin was under Japanese occupation. The Japanese strictly monitored all European institutions, including the Jewish community. When Hellmut Stern arrived in the city in 1939, he initially attended the Russian-Jewish Talmud Torah school, but felt isolated and was mocked by other children. Daily life was full of humiliations—Japanese boys beat him up, mistaking him for a Russian, while Chinese and even Jewish children taunted him as a "German."

Thanks to financial aid from the Jewish community, the Sterns managed to rent an apartment. Eventually, his father began teaching, and his mother found work at a theater. Hellmut received private lessons at home when the public school became unbearable.

The city suffered from poor sanitation, leading to frequent epidemics like cholera, plague, typhus, and smallpox. Malnutrition left Stern constantly ill. The family lacked even the most basic necessities—food, heating fuel, and warm clothing—and suffered terribly in the brutal cold of the Harbin winters.

Young Hellmut

Hellmut Stern, Harbin 1939 (private Photograph)

Bread Rations
"By 1944, we were fighting for scraps of food, fuel, and clothing, enduring the merciless cold. (...) Every morning, I was sent with ration coupons to fetch our meager bread allowance. Of course, I was always hungry, and after waiting in line, I’d be half-frozen by the time it was my turn. The bread was still warm and smelled irresistible. Sometimes, on the way home, I’d break off a tiny piece, then another, and another. By the time I arrived, almost the entire loaf was gone. I was ashamed—my parents were just as hungry as I was."

Music as Survival

Despite the hardships, Stern’s talent flourished. He studied violin under Vladimir Trachtenberg, a renowned violinist and former member of the St. Petersburg Conservatory. Trachtenberg recognized Stern’s potential and provided rigorous training, grounding him in the Russian violin tradition. At age 14, Stern gave his first public concert, and by fall 1945, he was playing in the Harbin Symphony Orchestra. 
Just before Japan’s surrender in August 1945, Stern’s father was arrested by Japanese soldiers for "listening to enemy broadcasts." Hellmut and his mother were forced to vacate their home, fearing for his life until the emaciated father returned after the war’s end.
With Japan’s defeat, life changed once again and Soviet troops occupied Harbin. Terrified of the soldiers, the Sterns pacified them with impromptu musical performances. It was only then that they learned of the Holocaust’s horrors in Europe.

Struggle and Responsibility

In the following years, Hellmut supported his parents through all kinds of work—playing in nightclubs, restaurants, and at Chinese weddings. With no other income of their own, the 17-year-old had to support his entire family. 

After the war, the Stern family remained in China for several years, uncertain of where to go next and unable to travel for lack of money and documents. But with the Communist victory in 1949, life for foreigners became increasingly difficult, and finally Stern and his parents were able to leave: in December 1949, they were allowed to board the "Wooster Victory" and set sail for Israel. 

The family in 1949, before leaving China ©PH Luzern

At the time, the state of Israel was a very young country with a rapidly growing population: destination for thousands of jews arriving from all over the world. Life was difficult to say the least, and work for artists was very hard to obtain. At the same time, there was a huge number of outstanding musicians. The best of them played in the Palestine Symphony Orchestra, which in 1948 was renamed Israel Philharmonic and performed with Koussevitzky, Bernstein, Celibidache, Fricsay, Giulini and many others.

When he was performing as a bar pianist at Tel Aviv’s King David Hotel one day in 1951, Stern met his famous samesake Isaac Stern.
 

stern stern


Since I didn’t know if he spoke Russian, but I couldn’t speak English, I said: “I speak Russian.” To that, he replied: “Me too.”
I continued: “Excuse me for addressing you, my name is Stern.” His answer: “Mine too.”
So I said:” I am a violinist.”and he replied: ”Me too!” We laughed, the ice was broken, and I sat down with him.

Photo: Hellmuth Stern and Isaac Stern, Tel Aviv 1951
 

 

In 1955, the Israel Philharmonic went on its first European tour. Obviously, Germany was not on the schedule- it would have been unthinkable so soon after the war. But a number of musicians decided to use their free days after the tour and travel back to Berlin- for the first time in almost 20 years.

“When we were landing in Berlin, I saw that my colleague Horst turn pale. He was a huge man who loved motorbikes and owned a Harley-Davidson in Israel, but suddenly he could not speak even one word anymore. We landed at Tempelhof Airport and followed the other passengers through a long corridor to customs. When Horst heard everyone speaking German, and on top of that the heavy Berlin accent, he could not hold back his tears. He was shaking, and soon we were all crying too- four grown men. The officer at passport control asked: “what´s going on here?” and I replied: “You know, it´s the first time for us to come back after our emigration… to our hometown”. The officer let us pass without looking at our documents. As for Horst, we had to hold and support him, we were worried he would collapse.”

Stern spent several years with the Israel Philharmonic, followed by a short period in the United States (to help his father get medical treatment). In 1961, he made the bold decision to return to Berlin—the city from which he had fled as a child- to become a member of the Berlin Philharmonic under Herbert von Karajan.

Hellmut Stern in an undated photo ©Reinhard Friedrich

As one of the few Jewish musicians in the orchestra, Stern was acutely aware of the historical weight of his position. Reclaiming his place in the country he had been forced to flee, Stern became a symbol of reconciliation and resilience.

While Stern’s career with the Berlin Philharmonic took him around the globe and brough him back to Asia, his ties to Harbin and China remained of great importance for him. In the 1980s, Stern became an advocate for cultural exchange, leveraging his unique background to build bridges between Germany and China and promote understanding and collaboration between the two nations. He often spoke about his gratitude to the city of Harbin for providing his family with refuge and viewed his contributions as a way to give back to the country that had played a crucial role in his survival.

During the tours with the Berlin Philharmonic, Stern took a particular interest in engaging with young Chinese musicians. He conducted workshops, masterclasses, and informal discussions, sharing insights from his vast experience and earning him recognition and gratitude both in Germany and in China.
Stern’s memoir, "Saitensprünge: Erinnerungen eines leidenschaftlichen Kosmopoliten", offers a vivid account of his life’s journey, capturing the essence of his experiences in Harbin and beyond.

Hellmut Stern @Archiv Stiftung Berliner Philharmoniker

Hellmut Stern passed away on March 21, 2020, leaving behind a legacy that transcends borders and generations. His contributions to music and cultural diplomacy remain a great source of inspiration, and a reminder that even in the most turbulent times, art endures- and that music can bridge the deepest divides.

 

©WFIMC 2025/ Florian Riem