Great Students Become Great Teachers
5 string players discuss the teachers who influenced them most and the lessons they
hope their own students carry with them
By Christopher Roberts posted September 2012
Illustration by Maritsa Patrinos
Skilled string teachers are artists in a rather extraordinary way. They introduce students to the
myriad colors of the musical world, building the technique necessary for a student to transform a
blank compositional canvas into a bold musical interpretation. But a teacher’s influence also can be
observed in far subtler shades and lessons can be life changing, life affirming, and lifelong. From an
approach to vibrato to an approach to life, a teacher’s legacy can be indelible and profound.
Curious about the teachers who have influenced some of today’s great players and teachers,
Stringscorrespondent Christopher Roberts asked violinists and educators Geoff Nuttall, William
Fedkenheuer, and Ida Kavafian; violist Masumi Per Rostad; and cellist Kee-Hyun Kim about the
teachers who most impacted them, the lessons they never forgot, and what they hope to instill in
their own students. —Megan Westberg
Geoff Nuttall, violin
First violinist and co-founder of the St. Lawrence String Quartet ; director for chamber music at the
Spoleto Festival; lecturer and artist-in-residence at Stanford University.
1) Who was your best teacher?
It’s a really hard and frustrating question, because I’ve had so many incredible teachers. But one
was Lorand Fenyves. I first met him in Canada, when I was studying at the Banff Center in Alberta
and then at the University of Toronto. With him, nothing mattered but the music. He didn’t give a
crap about ego. That put everything into perspective. He was so passionate about it; it really rubbed
off on his students.
It sounds simple, but it was powerfully expressed by him: nothing matters except for the music. It
was a really important lesson. If you’re getting nervous, focus on the music. Technique? Don’t think
about playing the violin well, just play what the incredible composers have left us with. His passion
for music and composers was inspiring beyond words.
2) What lesson did you learn from him?
It’s important to always have that light at the end of the tunnel. When you’re caught up in your
instrument, when you’re nervous on stage, caught up in competition or career BS, all that stuff,
remind yourself: you’re there to serve incredible composers who wrote powerful music.
It’s humbling, and so important to keep in perspective. When you think you’re a famous hotshot
musician, you’re reminded that you’re just a total peon—a transfer case for incredible music. And
then when you think you suck and you have nothing to offer, you remember, “Holy crap, I get to play
this stuff.” And you enjoy doing it again.
Nothing really matters as long as you focus on the music as the end goal. [Fenyves] loved the violin,
too, but it was a means to an end.
3) What lesson do you try to impart to your students?
I try to imbue that love of music to the wide range of students I teach, from the amateurs who play
incredibly well, to the wannabe professors who want to earn money playing. If you get caught up in
money, you’re going to be screwed. The starting point and the ending point is music—everything
else is there to serve that. I’ve been incredibly lucky with my career path, but my survival and
success has been with that as the end goal, the light at the end of my tunnel.
William Fedkenheuer, violin
Second violinist of the Miró Quartet; senior lecturer at the Sarah and Ernest Butler School of Music–
University of Texas at Austin.
1) Who is the best string teacher you have ever had, and why?
I have had the privilege of studying with many world-class string teachers, and to highlight one
specific teacher would minimize the extraordinary impact of the others. Every stage of my
development (including the present) has required the guidance of each of my teachers and the
different elements they brought out in my playing and in myself. I’ve been incredibly fortunate to
have access to teachers who were able to help me identify those elements as well as articulate a
path that would inspire me. Here are the teachers I must include:
Joan Barrett, my teacher from age 6–16. She helped solidify the foundation in my technique
combining principles of Ivan
Galamian and Josef Gingold, as well as those of Paul Rolland and other non-musical
pedagogues. She challenged me on technical, artistic, and human levels, pushing me to develop my
own voice and to always appreciate how lucky we are to be allowed to spend time with the violin.
Kathleen Winkler, my teacher for my undergraduate degree at Rice University pushed me to reexamine my technique in order to push myself to higher standards, to be able to set these standards
myself, and then to find the discipline to achieve them. She taught me how to teach myself so that
nothing was ever unachievable, simply a new adventure from which to learn.
Miriam Fried, my teacher at Indiana University, challenged me to ensure every decision I made
could be defended from an artistic and structural standpoint.
Paul Katz, whom I first met at age 20, taught me the tradition of chamber music and the morals of
being a great colleague and chamber musician. He set the standard as to what being a stringquartet player could truly mean.
And finally cellist Bernard Greenhouse, whom I first met at age 24, shared with me the teachings of
Pablo Casals and was an artistic mentor who appeared in my life at the ideal time. He was perhaps
the most articulate and gifted teacher I have worked with, but without all that I learned from others, I
would have been unprepared to comprehend and execute what he asked of me. Our time together
was remarkable—he was 84 when we met, and my final lesson with him was a few months before
his passing at age 95. He taught me to seek the true meaning and value of instrumental mastery, to
insist every line elevate the next, emphasize the artistry of one’s own imagination, and to
understand the overwhelming need for humanity in our art.
2) What is one lesson you learned from that teacher that you now impart to your students?
All of these teachers pushed me to look within for my inspiration, voice, and expectation. They were
protectors of form and structure who defined ever-higher levels of artistry beyond what I was
pushing myself to achieve. By having them push me to internalize these principles, I discovered the
power of my own voice that I now try to find for each of my students.
3) Why is that lesson so valuable?
I believe many of us look to others for information that is already within. The moment we begin to
develop our personal views, instincts, and beliefs is the moment we truly begin our journey as
artists. We require mentors and teachers in our lives to continue to challenge these developing
beliefs, however our audiences want to hear why we love these pieces we perform. We need to
continue to challenge ourselves to grow, to use our life experience to create deeper connections
and meaning, and to trust the foundations our mentors have instilled in us. It must be done with a
deep respect for structures, tradition, and discipline, but truly great music allows each of us a
personal voice to share.
Ida Kavafian, violin & viola
Violin faculty at the Curtis Institute of Music; artistic director of Music from Angel Fire Festival;
violinist of the Trio Valtorna.
1) Who is the best string teacher you have ever had, and why?
That’s easy—Oscar Shumsky, my teacher at Juilliard to whom I switched early on in my studies
there. He was the biggest musical (or otherwise) influence and inspiration in my life.
2) What is one lesson you learned from that teacher that you now impart to your students?
One lesson? Now that’s hard . . . maybe the catastrophic lesson I had on the Beethoven Tenth
Sonata? Or the one where he made it clear he didn’t like my shoulder rest? He never yelled during
that Beethoven lesson, but I knew I had no business playing that piece as a young hot shot, for
musical reasons. And the shoulder rest—again, he didn’t tell me to get rid of it, but since I hung on
every word he said, I was very affected by his disdain of shoulder rests. So I dedicated a summer to
getting rid of mine. Scales and études for two months, then some Bach. Best thing I ever did!
But the biggest inspiration from Shumsky was a fierce integrity for the music. Technique is crucial,
yes, but only a means to be able to do justice to the music. What I try to impart to my students is
what he taught me—achieving the highest integrity for the music by developing the absolute finest
technique so that one can have no hindrances on his or her quest for musical expression.
3) Why is that lesson so valuable?
Now back to an easy question! Musical integrity became so deeply ingrained in me that it is almost
a burden now. I find myself teaching principals that don’t necessarily guarantee a big career for my
students, but hopefully give them the groundwork and tools to become good musicians who will
always respect the composers.
Masumi Per Rostad, viola
Violist of the Pacifica Quartet; professor viola and artist-in-residence at Indiana University Jacobs
School of Music; an artistic planner and founder of the DoCha Festival.
1) Who is the best string teacher you have ever had, and why?
Karen Tuttle was my viola mother. We would talk endlessly! A common lesson would start with a
lengthy conversation about life and music and then, as my lesson time came to an end she would
say, “Wait a second, where did the time go?! Play your viola for me!” Somehow, through all the
talking, she managed to build on the foundation that my previous teachers provided for me by
helping me to understand and develop my technique while encouraging me to explore the depth of
my musical range.
I studied with her at Juilliard for six years though my BM and MM. That is a bit unusual, but I
couldn’t imagine studying with anyone else! She explained to me that during the first three years we
would focus on viola playing and after that she would teach me how to teach. I eventually figured
out that my experience teaching as her assistant was forcing me to explain things that I took for
granted and thereby better understand my approach to playing the viola and making music.
2) What is one lesson you learned from that teacher that you now impart to your students?
One of the most valuable things she taught me to do was experiment. It is rather simple, but if you
don’t try new things, you won’t do new things. This extends from trying out a new vibrato technique
to experimenting with a different concept of rubato. I really miss those lessons with my viola mother
....
Kee-Hyun Kim, cello
Founding cellist of the Parker Quartet; artist-in-residence at University of Minnesota.
1) Who is the best string teacher you have ever had, and why?
It’s hard to say who is the “best,” as I have studied with several extremely influential teachers who
shaped and influenced me at different stages of my development as a cellist and as an artist.
Coincidentally, my last three teachers were all students of Gregor Piatigorsky, so in a way, I was
able to absorb much of Piatigorsky’s teachings through the teachings of first Myung-Wha Chung in
Korea, and Laurence Lesser and Paul Katz at the New England Conservatory.
Although Myung-Wha Chung, Laurence Lesser, and Paul Katz had their own unique approaches to
the cello, music, and teaching, there was one common thread that I found very interesting—the use
of vibrato. I see so many students who use and treat vibrato as an automatic function of the left
hand. When you begin to regard vibrato as one more tool, it can add an even wider range of colors
to your palette if you use it discerningly, intelligently, and judiciously.
2) What’s one lesson that you learned from that teacher that you now impart to your
students?
Funny enough, the most basic but valuable lesson that I learned from anybody was Bernard
Greenhouse. When I first came to study in Boston in high school, I was fortunate enough to be able
to take some lessons from Greenhouse at his home in Cape Cod. It was about a two hour drive
from my high school, and upon arriving, he asked me to just warm up for him. I proceeded to blaze
through four-octave scales at top volume and with what I thought was nimbleness and accuracy.
After a while, he stopped me and asked, “What are you doing?” He then proceeded to show me how
to warm up—long, slow, whole bows, drawing out the resonance and vibrancy of each note,
listening to the consistency of the tone and the purity of intonation, and finding the center of the
sound and the pitch.
3) Why is that lesson so valuable?
Last year, I had some beginner students at the high school and college level, and when I asked
them to warm up for me, they proceeded to do what I had done in my youth. I think the concept of
warming up with long tones and scales, while seemingly basic, is a foreign concept for students who
have an hour or two here and there to prepare a piece for a lesson for the next week. However, I
firmly believe that it is essential not only for your own well-being, but for the longevity and
sustenance of your craft. In other words, it is the basis of your technique. Also, as you get older,
your muscles just need more time to warm up and by slowing it down, you are forcing your ear to
really listen, and for your body to really retain (correct) muscle memory.
*This article appeared in Strings September 2012