I began violin studies with Grant Rudnicki when I was nine years old. This first step was also a fortuitous encounter with a rare individual. Mr. Rudnicki loved music, and the violin, to a degree that I have seldom seen before. The way he delighted in music was an extension of his essential joie de vivre. More often than not he engaged in the kind of lively conversation that produced much laughter. I learned how to play violin quite quickly with him, though I started out not believing that I would be able to play at all. His lessons were somehow quite painless for all the difficult technical challenges. Somehow I progressed. I do not know how he did it; the lessons were pure fun. He brought chamber music into our house as well, and within a year, I was joining in playing trios, quartets, and quintets.

Two years later, Mr. Rudnicki introduced me to Sarah Scriven in Boston. She had been his teacher during his younger years. Sarah Scriven trained a great many young violinists who today are doing great work in the communities they serve. Many of her students are working as orchestra leaders, soloists, chamber players, educators, or private teachers, encouraging future generations.

Mrs. Scriven had a somewhat different brand of violin teaching than the ever cheerful Mr. Rudnicki. Her very colorful character, honesty and sense of humor were matched by her seriousness of purpose. She dedicated her entire life to her students. While she might have appeared to be hollering or yelling at me to play in tune, or to use more bow, her voice was like caring, colorful music, and a ceaseless source of encouragement. For eight years she trained me this way, sparing no effort. Her image and energy are still very much present with me.

When I was twelve years old and I had only studied with her for one year, Mrs. Scriven decided to make arrangements for me to attend a one-week summer program at Marlboro Music Festival in Vermont. I was one of a dozen youth from urban areas along the Atlantic Coast who somehow found themselves presented with this opportunity to meet some of the best classical musicians in the world. We got the chance because we met the definition of “underprivileged” based on our family’s income. I grew up feeling quite lucky actually. Because my parents cared about the arts and education, they found a way to provide their kids with music lessons. Sarah Scriven reduced our lesson rate to eight dollars per hour for the violin lessons, discounted from twenty dollars. What I didn’t realize then is that the musical path I was following might, in economic terms, make me even poorer than my parents were. In hindsight, merely having or not having money did not quantify or have anything to do with the value of our lives.

At the Marlboro summer program, we were twelve kids, and we were far away from home in a musical utopia. We bonded together as kids. We sat at lunch tables and enjoyed recreational sports together with our counselors as well as some of the famous musicians. We attended their chamber music rehearsals. We took notes while Pablo Casals rehearsed the Festival Orchestra. We had an opportunity to play for Casals at the end of our one-week stay. He listened to us with great interest and consideration. He shook hands with us with warm respect. Each participant received a photograph from Rudolph Serkin, carefully autographed with a personal message. The simple act of acknowledging us was a great and sincere act.

At the time, attending this summer program was really the stuff of dreams for me. Afterward I immediately started listening to recordings of the artists I had met at Marlboro. It was my way of keeping the connection and the memory alive. Those recordings also inspired something deep in me. I began to practice the violin more as a way of discovering my own voice, my own capacity for self expression.

I hope this reminiscence gives some hint of the great vision and generosity of my teacher, Sarah Scriven, who, herself, was a woman of  humble means. She wanted to help people the best way she could–and the grandeur and beauty of great music was a big part of what she knew she could share. Marlboro Music Festival may have had very little to do with solving the social issues of our times, at least on the surface. I think Marlboro was a place for bringing great players together to enact, and reveal from their own hearts, the music they loved to play, and they were more than happy to share it.

My father had been an English teacher and one-time Dean of the Faculty at Worcester Academy, where I eventually attended high school. He had interviewed Mr. Rudnicki to teach English there when I was eight years old. Who among my family could have predicted how a single man named Grant Rudnicki would affect the course of our lives? Grant loved chamber music.  That love may have led him to introduce us to Bedrich Vaska, who had been living with his wife Lydia quite unnoticed in Worcester for many years. Bedrich Vaska:  the great Czech cellist, student of Dvorak, contemporary of Pablo Casals, renown across Europe for his quartet playing—he also founded one of the earliest professional string quartets in America. He played for presidents in the White House thirty-five years before Casals did. When he came to our house to give cello lessons to my older sister, Jenny—when he played Bach Suites for us—we knew little of his legend. We met a humble man who loved music and was willing to play chamber music with anybody. My sister recalls two hour lessons with Bedrich at which he charged five dollars. This is a memory that leads me to ponder what it is I might be living for.

***

I graduated from Worcester Academy in 1975. Sarah Scriven had connected me with violin teacher Eric Rosenblith at Apple Hill. I took my first lessons with him there during the summer of 1974. It was then that I made plans to apply to the New England Conservatory. I auditioned and was admitted. I continued my violin studies there with Mr. Rosenblith. I studied chamber music with Robert Merfeld (inside and outside Apple Hill), and Eugene Lehner (at NEC).

Two decades later I was able to audition and enroll as a full time student at Longy School of Music. For many years I had been freelancing, had married, and now I was back at school. I had wonderful teachers. At Longy I studied violin with Janet Packer, solfege with Judith Ross, counterpoint with Eric Sawyer, jazz with Dave Bryant, and, Robert Merfeld became my chamber music coach again, twenty years after our Apple Hill encounter. All these teachers are unforgettable to me. The learning we did together was a beautiful thing, based on mutual respect and camaraderie. Students and teachers worked together as equals.

Seminars that I attended at Longy School of Music, as well as School for Strings in New York City, helped me reflect on my teaching. In 2011, my attending the Institute for Musicianship and Public Service at Community MusicWorks in Providence, Rhode Island, resulted in a transformation of my vision and sense of responsibility as a teacher. I am a person. I can listen, appreciate, support, and allow the unique “voices” of other persons to come forth and be heard.

I gained my first teaching experience at Boston Music Company. In 2001 I became a member of the faculty of Pakachoag Music School of Greater Worcester. In 2007 I  joined the faculty of Joy of Music Program in Worcester. I have also maintained a private studio at Robinson Music in Westborough since 2005.  For several years I have been assisting with the string program at Worcester Academy. I have also taught at Thayer Performing Arts Center and Anna Maria College, as well as Wachusett Regional High School and Quabbin Regional High School.

Here in “the heart of the Commonwealth” I am happy to be working with so many  students, parents, teachers and colleagues. Together we are able to add to a positive culture of lifelong learning that is open to all.

–Peter Hughes