It was well over a hundred years from the creation of the first violin that trial and experimentation had advanced the technical capabilities of the instrument to a point that the first violin school emerged, under the guidance of the instrument’s first great master: Arcangelo Corelli. Scores of violinists flocked to Rome to study with him, and they, in turn, helped to spread his unique manner of playing across Europe. In the ensuing decades, the cities of Venice, Florence, and Piedmont became hubs of violin playing, each imparting their unique contributions to the violin’s development. Corelli’s legacy thus spread north into Germany and, later, west to France. By the end of the 18th century, violinists well-known to modern players were already active as performers and pedagogues, including Kreutzer, Rode, and Spohr. While each was distinct, they all were unmistakably part of the same family tree.

The product of the collective efforts of violinists at the conservatories of Paris and Brussels is the modern Franco-Belgian School, with alterations to right-hand technique being the greatest departure from that of the past. Meanwhile, the violinists in Vienna and Berlin held faithful to the inherited Corelli tradition, with one contemporary boldly proclaiming that they had become its true stewards and that it was to Germany that Italian violinists must embark to learn how their forebears had once played. It is at this point that the history of the “Russian” School begins, with the rise of the young Hungarian-born prodigy Leopold Auer.

As Auer’s students began to perform in Europe and the United States at the beginning of the 20th century, audiences and fellow violinists alike were astonished at what they saw and heard. Flawless technique and an enormous, penetrating tone were all hallmarks of this new Russian School. Violinists such as Mischa Elman, Efrem Zimbalist, Nathan Milstein, and certainly Jascha Heifetz swept aside all competition. They ruled unchallenged. But what was it about these violinists that made them so distinct? What was Auer’s secret.

Auer pushed the technique he learned from Dont and Joachim one step further: the hand and fingers retained their diminished role, but now the upper arm and shoulder became the dominant structures responsible for drawing the bow. Part of this change included raising the entire arm higher than had ever been taught previously so that it formed a straight line with the bow (in contrast, it is not that long ago that most Franco-Belgian players kept their elbow nearly in constant contact with the torso). More strikingly different is the manner in which the bow is held, with the hand clasping the bow much deeper and also pronating forward. These simple changes allow for far greater leverage, thus making it possible to generate a powerful tone at any portion of the bow.

When I first began my studies on the violin as a young child, I had no concept that I was learning one particular “style” of playing nor that there existed drastically different means and opinions regarding how this or that technique should be executed. It wasn’t until I was studying for my undergraduate degree that I learned that there are indeed distinct “Schools.” But what does that mean in a practical sense? What is a violin school? How did they develop in the centuries after the first violin left the workshop of an Italian craftsman whose name has long since been lost to history. Perhaps most vital of all, should we care? These were precisely the questions I had as I embarked on a years-long research project.

The bridge from these historic schools to modern violin playing was none other than Paganini. The great Italian virtuoso dazzled the whole of Europe, with his musical feats being of such a mind-boggling level that they were widely held to be of diabolical origin. He spurred an unprecedented advancement of technique for all who followed. But, Paganini also caused a rift that would split the musical establishment between the French and Belgians, who wholeheartedly embraced him, and the Germans, who largely rejected him.

After early studies in Budapest, Auer spent several years under the tutelage of Jakob Dont in Vienna and Joseph Joachim in Hamburg. There followed several years of active concert performances before a chance meeting with the Russian pianist and founder of the St. Petersburg Conservatory, Anton Rubinstein. He extended to Auer a three-year appointment as the head violin professor at the conservatory to fill in for the very recently departed Wieniawski. Ultimately, he remained for five decades, teaching quite literally hundreds of violinists in his unique style, which was at once both revolutionary and yet still based upon the foundation Corelli left.

The answer to the former can be found in Auer’s dedication to the study of scales and etudes, which was quite a novelty for the time. He famously held the belief that art begins where technique ends, and he demanded the perfection of fundamental skills in his students. The other innovation was the way in which he held the bow and the subsequent role of the right hand and arm. The Italian tradition called for the hand to be very passive during the bow stroke, placing greater emphasis on the larger structures of the arm, notably the wrist and forearm. This was, and is, in contrast to the Franco-Belgian School in which the hand and fingers are absolutely dominant, leaving the rest of the arm to play a minimal role. Various Franco-Belgian pedagogues (Baillot and de Bériot) held the unequivocal opinion that using the arm at all during the bow stroke amounted to a cardinal sin.

The obvious effects these changes had were not lost on Auer’s peers. None other than Carl Flesch, brought up as a Franco-Belgian player, immediately changed his technique to match what he saw and was ever after a staunch advocate for the bow grip, to which he assigned the moniker “Russian” in his seminal text The Art of Violin Playing. Though the name is problematic for a number of historical reasons, we still refer to Auer’s bow hold as the “Russian” today.

The right arm technique is the most easily distinguishable trait Auer contributed to violin playing, but it is by no means the only one. Throughout the hundred years that followed his immigration to the United States, he and his students who accompanied him to the West, as well as those who remained in Russia, expanded upon all facets of violin playing. There is not a single violinistic problem that has not been thoughtfully and thoroughly worked out. In my own playing and teaching, I remain utterly convinced of the superiority of this approach to violin playing. The enormous benefits of the Russian School are inimitable by any other tradition. It is simpler, more intuitive, less prone to causing injury (I know far too many Franco-Belgian players who have suffered horrendous playing-related pain caused by their bow grip), and solves countless issues all violinists must face. I am immensely proud to be able to carry forward this great school to my students and look forward to working with you or your children as they embark on the arduous but wonderful endeavor to play the violin.