Grigory Sedukh: “I play the new generation piccolo violin”

In October 2024, a transcription of Jacob’s Dream fantasy sonata for violino piccolo by eminent Israeli composer Baruch Berliner was recorded in St. Petersburg. The piece was performed by violinist Grigory Sedukh and pianist Natalia Erte.

Grigory Sedukh plays a unique, next-generation violino piccolo crafted by American violin maker Dr. Carleen M. Hutchins. Grigory is a faculty member at the St. Petersburg Conservatory in the string quartet department and the author of numerous transcriptions of world classics and contemporary works. A corresponding member of the International Academy of Contemporary Arts and a specially appointed professor at Tokyo International University, he is also a participant and laureate of numerous concerts, festivals, and competitions worldwide.

For our readers, Grigory spoke about his instrument and Baruch Berliner’s piece in whose recording he took part.

— I play a truly extraordinary, I’d even say unique, instrument—a next-generation violino piccolo.

The violino piccolo already existed in the 18th century. Then, it was tuned a third higher than a regular violin and was often in the hands of the majordomo, who would say, “Mesdames, messieurs, the minuet!” and play along with the orchestra for two or three bars. That was the violino piccolo’s only mission.

Within the classical repertoire, we know of only one work for the violino piccolo: Johann Sebastian Bach’s concerto for the instrument. Years later, the violino piccolo was forgotten. Of course even back in the 18th century, it sas not used for solo performances or had a prominent role in music.

And then came the 20th century. An acoustician from the United States, scientist, and violin maker, Dr. Carleen Hutchins, developed an interest in restoring string instruments from the 18th century and earlier. She drew inspiration from these ancient violins to create no less than a new family of string instruments—ranging from a double bass tuned one octave lower than a standard double bass to a violino piccolo tuned one octave higher.
I’d say that the violino piccolo is the only string instrument having significance as a solo instrument solely thanks to its range and exceptional construction. This peculiarity is further enhanced by the truly unique E string, tuned one octave higher—it’s the thinnest string, measuring only 0.178 mm in thickness and tuned to a frequency of 1320 Hz.

The E string for the violino piccolo was developed at Bell Laboratory under a NASA commission in collaboration with the renowned Super Sensitive Musical String Company.

The E string must be long enough for the violinist to securely hold successive semitones with their fingers, so it must be both very strong and thin. For this purpose, a space-grade material—carbon rocket wire—was used, which has nearly twice the tensile strength of a standard violin E string. However, even this wire is close to its tensile strength limit, and the string can still occasionally break because of the immense pressure it is under.

Dr. Hutchins worked on her new family of string instruments for about 30 years, and throughout this time, she was developing a new timbre, using the power of audiation.

The distinctive feature of the octet she crafted is that all the instruments, from the double bass tuned one octave lower than usual to the violino piccolo tuned one octave higher, share absolutely identical timbre.

Whether this is good or bad, interesting or not—let the audience decide. But Dr. Hutchins achieved her goal: She created a new generation of string instruments long after the golden age of Italian craftsmanship had ended. After Stradivari and Guarneri, a new name appeared in the world of string instruments—Carlene Hutchins, Dr. Hutchins.

She developed her new generation of instruments, but it turned out that no one really needed them, except for her. None of the major musicians, except for Yo-Yo Ma, showed interest in these instruments.

He asked Carleen Hutchins to create a vertical viola for recording a Bartók concerto. He recorded the concerto, won a Grammy, returned the instrument to Carleen Hutchins, and said, “Ms. Hutchins, thank you very much, goodbye!” Why did he do so? The world of big management has its own rules, and no one can break them, not even a great cellist like Yo-Yo Ma.

Some time passed, and it seemed back then that Dr. Hutchins’ last hope was the St. Petersburg Conservatory. All eight instruments were delivered to us with great difficulty. One day, my colleague and older friend, whom I had always admired, the renowned quartet player Iosif Levinzon—a member of Taneyev’s quartet for many years—suddenly invited me to come to the conservatory to take a look at a violin. I assumed Iosif was going to show me some interesting Italian violin, so of course, I agreed.

When he showed me the small case, I was already surprised. When I opened the case and saw the violino piccolo, I was even more astonished. A living creature was looking at me, and I was looking back at it; what I felt was love at first sight.

Compared to a regular violin, the violino piccolo has very long f-holes. Why? This is necessary for producing high frequencies. In general, the small body and the disproportionate dimensions of the instrument—I mean, the length and width—are only part of the problem. They are completely unpredictable, these proportions. They differ so much from a regular violin that it’s impossible to play the violino piccolo without doing your homework first. But I knew I’d play this instrument, no matter what it took.

So, I brought the violin home, opened the case, sat beside it, and began thinking how I was going to play it. Eventually, I figured out an easy way to switch between the two violins. Now, I can play the full-sized violin, immediately pick up the piccolo, and switch back again without any effort.

The next challenge was finding a repertoire for the violino piccolo. But where was it to find? There is none—none at all. So I had to make arrangements for the violino piccolo. To be precise, these aren’t truly arrangements, as I don’t change a single note of the original composition. I simply transpose certain passages down by an octave to prevent the audience from becoming overtired while listening.

With the Hutchins Violin Octet, founded in St. Petersburg in 1994, we recorded an album that reached the Grammy semi-finals in 1999. This was a tremendous success. We were semi-finalists in two categories—Best Chamber Music Performance and Best Engineered Album—and we are deeply grateful to the Melodiya studio for releasing the record.

However, after the two years during which the Hutchins Violin Octet was active, the instruments had to be returned to the United States. This wasn’t due to musical reasons; there were many purely technical difficulties. But not all the violins went back. Mrs. Hutchins gifted me the violino piccolo. To call it a lavish gift would be an understatement. This marked the beginning of the solo career—not only mine but also the violino piccolo’s.

I saw my mission not only as playing this remarkable violin but also as uncovering its qualities—unique qualities that no other instrument has. That’s why I need to select an appropriate repertoire and make transcriptions for the violino piccolo, keeping every note exactly as in the original. This is how the new life of the violino piccolo began. Naturally, this is a gradual process, but more and more people are getting acquainted with this amazing instrument and start showing an interest in it.

It makes one think of how the saxophone made it onto the global musical stage. It was invented—if I remember correctly—in 1846, but only started appearing regularly in concerts about forty years later. So, the violino piccolo is following the same path as many other new instruments before it. Maybe in another forty years, it’ll be a full-fledged orchestra member or solo instrument. Actually, it’s already a solo instrument in its own right. I hope the audience will develop a liking for its timbre, and composers will start writing pieces for it. I see it as a very promising instrument with a bright future.

I first heard Mr. Berliner’s Jacob’s Dream about two months ago and was immediately captivated by its melodic material. I said “melodic material,” which is quite a highbrow way to put it. The piece is full of wonderful melodies, which Maestro Berliner spills forth generously, as if from the horn of plenty. These are truly delightful melodies.

I believe the ability to create melodies is inherently present in composers who walk in faith. I know that Maestro Berliner is a person of faith, and perhaps that’s one reason his melodies feel so natural. Composers who can’t create melodies, I think, are punished by higher powers for being far from faith. These higher powers punish them with the inability to create melodies. But fortunately, Maestro Berliner is spared from this fate and creates truly wonderful, organic, and incredibly delicate melodies.

Of course, it’s hard to talk about music with words. For me, the title of a piece is simply its theme. Yes, everyone knows the biblical story of Jacob’s dream, telling how a young man fell asleep and dreamt of a ladder leading to heaven, and he heard the voice of the Almighty—that’s the theme of the piece. But the idea, as I see it, is much broader and deeper.

I’d describe the meaning of this composition, as I understand it, with a short phrase: “through hardships to eternity.” I wouldn’t want to be more specific, because every performer and listener interprets this piece in their own way, but for me, I hear a lot of suffering and a desire to move up—not in human society, but in the sense of drawing closer to the Heavenly Father. In short, the music and its meaning are incredibly fascinating to me.
First, I had to make an adaptation for the violino piccolo. I didn’t change a note in the piece, but I did have to transpose some passages down by an octave so they’d fall within the range the composer intended. Everything else plays one octave lower. Of course, these are just words—you really need to hear how it turned out. I hope both Maestro Berliner and the audience will appreciate my work.

I’d also like to add that a musician doesn’t need to invent anything new to perform this piece. It’s enough to listen carefully to what the music has to say; that alone is sufficient to feel it and convey the composer’s intent to the audience. Understanding music is difficult—music needs to be felt, and that’s why during the performance, I try to grasp the meaning embedded by the composer in the piece. It’s too early to think about the intent before playing, and too late and almost laughable to consider it afterward. So, the only time to think is during the performance itself—that’s my guiding principle.

I wish Maestro Berliner boundless inspiration for his future compositions, and I hope that one day he will create a piece specifically for the violino piccolo.

Source: www.belcanto.ru