A place for Mr. Ayers to show off his gifts

He called before I arrived, making sure we were still on.

I'm on my way, I told him. See you in a few minutes.

My first stop was at the new studio, where I wanted to make sure the piano was in place, along with the upright bass.

Nathaniel Anthony Ayers suspected that his Christmas present involved the long-awaited opening of the studio. But he didn't know the piano would be in it, donated by a nurse from Santa Monica, along with the bass I had just bought from a jazz musician in Venice.

Mr. Ayers had not played a bass since he became ill while at the Juilliard School in New York 35 years ago. He switched to violin and cello, because they're easier to load onto the shopping carts he lived out of in his hometown of Cleveland and later Los Angeles.

Ben Hong, assistant principal cellist with the Los Angeles Philharmonic and an admirer of Mr. Ayers, brought along some strings and a biography of Franz Schubert. We set the gifts on the piano, along with a photo of Mr. Ayers alongside cellist Yo-Yo Ma, his former classmate at Juilliard. The photo was taken backstage at Disney Hall in October, just before Ma embraced Mr. Ayers and told him his love of music made them brothers.

When the studio was in order, Hong and I walked the two blocks from Lamp Village on Crocker Street to the Lamp drop-in center on San Julian Street, where Mr. Ayers spends his days. Lamp houses, treats and supports people with severe mental illness on downtown L.A.'s skid row.

Mr. Ayers, 55, lives in a Lamp-managed apartment and has settled into a routine in which he sweeps the floor at the drop-in center, takes out the garbage, and plays violin, cello and trumpet in the courtyard. In my nearly two years with him, I've seen him at his most charming and I've seen the schizophrenia take hold like a tornado, throwing him into fits of anger and unpleasantness.

The staff at Lamp had agreed with me that since music is such powerful medicine for him, a studio seemed the next logical step in advancing his recovery, and Mr. Ayers was on board. He figured his Christmas present would be the grand opening, so he couldn't stand waiting for it to happen. He spotted us from the courtyard and was halfway across the street as we approached.

"Ben Hong!" he said, a bit stunned, as always, at the thought of a world-class musician taking time out for him.