in my imagination, I hear Stravinsky's Firebird Suite, and of course, Vivaldi. . .

about the cellist playing in the street during the war in Sarajevo?  I saw a film on it at a music conference.  

A hundred yards away lived a thirty-seven-year-old man, Vedran Smailovic was his name. Before the war he had been principal cellist of the Sarajevo Opera Company. When he saw the Bread-Queue Massacre occur outside his window he was pushed beyond his capacity to endure any more. His anguish was deep and his rage was tremendous. He could no longer stand by and allow humanity to be defined by these acts of horrific destruction. He could not allow the single-minded, cruel lust for power, that destroys and kills to have the last word about being human. Driven by his anguish and moved by his rage, he decided to write another definition of humanity into the horror that the bombs were etching into the scorched earth and chiseling into the charred flesh of men, women and children.

On the day after the massacre, and every day thereafter, at four o'clock precisely, Maestro Smailovic, dressed in his full formal concert attire, would walk out of his apartment into the midst of the battle raging around him. He would place a small camp-stool in the middle of the bomb-craters, and play a concert to the abandoned streets, while bombs and bullets flew all around him. Day after day he made his unambiguously courageous stand for human dignity, for civilization, for compassion, and for peace.

I quickly found one reference online.