Today, American flags ripple meaningfully in the summer breeze. Tonight, fireworks will paint the sky. These symbols of American might will prompt many of us to pause and reflect on the blessings of liberty—and the complex history that shapes it.
Another, less known, but mighty symbol will stir today in the aureate glow of a luthier’s shop in New York City. The Lady Liberty Violin was brought to life as a tribute to this country by her maker, Lukas Wronski, a Polish immigrant. She is played (in the video below) by the virtuoso Kinga Augustyn, also from Poland.
Watch the video, if you can. It’s a brief tribute to the American ideal: Liberty for all. The freedom to pursue truth, beauty, and goodness. Love. Man’s lust for power checked by law; division tempered by the bonds of our affections. This is the promise that drew Lukas to craft the Lady Liberty Violin and Kinga to draw her bow across its strings, their artistry a testament to a nation where dreams can take root.
But, look closely and you’ll see the violin’s jarring asymmetries, seemingly a reminder that America’s story is not a simple one. The nation that welcomed Lukas and Kinga also bears the scars of slavery and segregation, and too many other moments when freedom was denied.
Keep watching… Kinga ends with the theme from Schindler’s List. Several notes into John Williams’ masterpiece, its horrific beauty squeezes the air from your chest, evoking horrors; camps, trenches, hell on Earth. But also grace. The melody carries the weight of humanity’s darkest hours, yet it soars with resilience, a reminder that beauty can emerge from pain. The Lady Liberty Violin, with its scroll crowned by that solemn likeness of sacred honor, gazes out as if bearing witness to man’s struggle with depravity. Her body, framed by odd bulges and spikes, seems to sing, “I am beauty born of defect! I am the child of American dreams come true, and the soberly mourning mother of dreams deferred.”
On this Fourth, we celebrate a country that turns imperfection into possibility. From the abolitionists to the civil rights marchers, from the poets to the soldiers—and among those working today to ensure the next generation learns fairness, understanding, and humanity—America’s strength lies in its people’s resolve to make her core ideals a reality.
The Lady Liberty Violin, crafted and played by those who chose this land, is a love letter to that promise. Her song holds the ache of past mistakes, but rises with hope. She calls us to draw beauty from our defects and to let grace rise from grief. As her notes linger, they suggest that America is not a finished work, but a living anthem, carried by those who believe in its dream enough to keep playing.
Adam Thompson is the Communications Manager at the Prohuman Foundation. Originally from Maine, he studied at Colby College and lives with his wife and daughter in Vietnam.
Opinions expressed by guest authors do not necessarily reflect those of the Prohuman Foundation. We value diverse perspectives and invite submissions from those who can enrich our understanding of topics close to our mission: to promote the foundational truth that we are all unique individuals, united by our shared humanity.
The violin is a beautiful gesture of gratitude for a new life in this new country, but I don’t think Schindler’s List has the right theme to juxtapose with America’s past.