This article recounts the author’s discovery in 2020 of Murata Natsuho, a super-colossal violin genius whose “baby-soft palms” remarkably match those of legendary virtuosos such as Oistrakh, Stern, Perlman, and Zukerman—suggesting a defining physical hallmark of divine musical talent.
Combining personal experience, performance analysis, and comparisons to baseball prodigies Ohtani and Sasaki, the piece argues that Japan should recognize and promote Natsuho (and Himari) as national treasures and present them to the world as part of a national cultural strategy.

I learned that a super-colossal genius named Murata Natsuho had appeared in the Japanese violin world on New Year’s Eve of 2020.
It happened when I found it pointless to watch NHK’s Kōhaku Uta Gassen and began listening to classical music on YouTube.

As I wrote before, when I was a student at Sendai Daini High School, my mentor told me, “You should stay at Kyoto University and support it on your shoulders.”
But due to misfortunes at home, the path of study was closed off to me, and I spent my days listening to NHK FM classical broadcasts.
Every single day.
I subscribed to FM-related magazines, checked every program, and listened to them all.
I spent what little money I had on things like the complete LP set of Renata Tebaldi’s “La Bohème.”

I was the kind of person whom the editor of our graduation anthology referred to by saying, “There are three students with the initial K in the humanities track. One of them will undoubtedly leave a great mark on Japanese literature someday.”
From that promised path in life, I veered far off course, living in Tokyo and Kyoto, and eventually living as a business owner in Osaka.

At first, I was devoted to pianists.
Whenever a world-renowned pianist came to Japan and performed in Tokyo or Osaka, I would always go.
But from a certain period onward, I almost stopped attending concerts altogether.
Instead, I spent my nights in Osaka’s Kitashinchi, singing various genres of songs with a pianist accompanying me at a bar I frequented.
The cost of that was no small thing.

Watching international competition footage filmed from overhead of a pianist’s hands, I noticed something.
Pianists memorize music through fingerings.
So do violinists.

My close friend described Murata Natsuho’s hands as “like a baby’s hands.”
I felt the same.

Two super-colossal geniuses appeared in Japanese baseball.
Ohtani Shōhei and Sasaki Rōki.
Coincidentally, both from Iwate Prefecture.
When Sasaki entered the professional league, most baseball commentators, including Nakahata Kiyoshi, said that it would take time before he could pitch in the first team.
When I first saw his throwing form in training camp, I was astonished.
The flexibility of his arm was extraordinary.
I had never seen such an incredible motion.
Because I had never seen Ohtani’s throwing form before, Sasaki was the first.

This is someone who should pitch in the first team immediately.
Putting him in the farm system is absurd.
No one can hit his pitches.
My claim reached Nakahata Kiyoshi and the host of TV Tokyo.
Because I had criticized Nakahata by saying, “Are his eyes blind?”
Nakahata immediately retracted his earlier remarks, went to camp to check, and said, “I want to see him in the first team as soon as possible. I can’t wait.”
Readers already know this history.

Nakahata is an insider, and I am an outsider.
Major transformations are often brought about by outsiders.
Insiders lose clarity because they are insiders.
Thus they make wrong judgments.
Becoming an insider is virtually the same as becoming an ordinary talent.
Since I was young, I have always told people:

What is a genius?
“A genius is someone whose blackboard of the heart is completely blank. Therefore they can absorb anything.”
What is a mediocre person?
“A mediocre person is someone whose blackboard of the heart is filled with their own words (including the words of others). Therefore they can absorb nothing.”

Murata Natsuho is undoubtedly a genius.
She understands every resonance, every composer, in vast and boundless depth.

My close friend is also, in fact, an extraordinary genius.
Through Murata Natsuho and my close friend, I added one more definition to “genius.”
What is a genius?
A characteristic of a genius is innocence.
“Innocence” means, literally, a heart without wickedness.
Therefore, naturally, a genius is the exact opposite of a wicked person.

I had always thought Murata Natsuho’s hands (palms) were distinctive.
My friend described them as “like a baby’s hands.”

Unlike Himari, who appeared four years later, Murata Natsuho entered Tokyo College of Music High School as a special scholarship student.
Therefore, we were able to attend the concert on March 10.
Being able to hear her perform live is nothing short of bliss.
I decided to attend every performance she gives in Japan.

On May 26, in her hometown of Mito, she performed with the Ibaraki Symphony Orchestra.
Osaka to Mito, round-trip in a single day.
We changed our return train to a later one so we could stay through the end.
Our seats were the second row, center.
There was no greater bliss than that.
After leaving the hall, still immersed in gratitude and the afterglow of her performance, we were stunned.
There she was in the lobby, interacting with fans.
We immediately joined them.
I told her I was “the author of Civilization’s Turntable” and naturally shook her hand.
I was astonished.
Her hand was unbelievably soft.
Perhaps because of that, the words came out of my mouth unconsciously:
“I last heard Perlman, but you were better than Perlman. In other words, you are number one in the world.”
Before attending the concert, I had listened on YouTube to the towering greats performing the day’s piece—Saint-Saëns’s Violin Concerto No. 3.
The last one I listened to was Itzhak Perlman.

What makes her the greatest is the unbelievable softness of her hands (palms).
Intellectual ability is essential for anyone called a genius violinist.
But beyond that lies something that defines the world’s best—that is divine talent.
A gift granted only to those inhabited by the god of music.

Like Ohtani and Sasaki, Murata Natsuho also produces unbelievable power.
And the utmost delicacy and beauty.

It is already widely known that Ohtani and Sasaki are super-colossal geniuses.
They share something in common:
Their shoulder joints are extraordinarily flexible.
Incredible flexibility in the muscles produces incredible power.
And it also produces the utmost delicate, beautiful sound.

After returning home, I reviewed the footage of the towering greats I had seen so far.
Finally, there was one person—Perlman.
I became convinced my discovery was correct.
His hands were also baby-like.

There were two unquestioned masters I had not checked yet.
Isaac Stern and David Oistrakh.
I had assumed the poor image quality meant the tone was poor as well.
Or perhaps YouTube simply never suggested good videos.
When I finally checked them, I was shocked.
My hypothesis was right.
Both had the exact same palms as Murata Natsuho.

Oistrakh’s footage held an even greater surprise.
He and Menuhin were playing Bach together.

When I saw this, I thought:
The Japanese government should bestow the People’s Honor Award on Murata Natsuho and Himari.
That is, officially designate them as “national treasures.”
Then, as a nation, Japan should stream simultaneously—paid and worldwide—these two, the modern-day Oistrakh and Menuhin.
If Natsuho wishes to play a Stradivarius at that time, the government should purchase the finest Stradivarius and present it to her as a performance fee.
Even then, the return would be enormous.
By coincidence, Himari’s palms are of the Menuhin type, making it even more fitting.

The government must realize that Japan has, in the same era, two people equivalent to Oistrakh and Menuhin—Murata Natsuho and Himari—and must promote them as the highest national policy.

Korea, despite having no true musicality, marketed something called K-pop to the world, even pushing it to No. 1 on the Billboard chart.
Meanwhile, Japan has two truly genuine world-best musicians and does nothing.
In this respect as well, the Japanese government is foolish.
Its attitude betrays the glorious name of Japan—the Japan of Prince Shōtoku, Murasaki Shikibu, Sei Shōnagon, Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, and Ieyasu.

Ah, if only Abe-san were still here…
My proposal—this world-historical discovery by yet another colossal genius—would have reached him immediately.
No, I certainly would have made sure it reached him.

This chapter continues.

2024/6/30.
There was one violinist I had forgotten to check.
I just confirmed on YouTube.
Pinchas Zukerman.
Astonishingly, he too had the same palms as Natsuho.
David Oistrakh, Isaac Stern, Itzhak Perlman, Pinchas Zukerman, and Murata Natsuho.
It is not an exaggeration to say that this is one of the greatest discoveries of the 21st century.