Few areas of the repertoire are
as daunting to the casual listener as works for unaccompanied
violin. Yes, everyone recognizes that Bach's six Sonatas
and Partitas are masterworks, and many people thrill
to the magnificence of the Chaconne from the
second partita, especially if they hear it arranged
for something other than solo violin. If you come across
someone listening to these pieces regularly, chances
are that he or she is, or has been, a string player.
The fact is that any substantial work for an unaccompanied
string instrument is necessarily complex, implying the
harmonies, counterpoint and rhythms that would be stated
more explicitly in a more ordinary work. They will probably
never have mass appeal.
Several composers since Bach have written for unaccompanied
violin. The best-known is undoubtedly Paganini, whose
Twenty-four Caprices make extravagent demands
of a performer's virtuosity. They are very violinistic,
but not quite as substantial as the Bach pieces, or
those of a few other composers.
Perhaps the most familiar solo violin music of the
twentieth century is Bartók's 1944 Sonata
for solo violin, but the closest approach to Bach's
method and feel are the six Sonatas for solo violin,
op. 27 of Eugène Ysaÿe, written twenty
years before Bartók's wonderful piece.
The appeal of these sonatas, once again, is mainly
focused upon musicians and listeners with a good feeling
for string instruments and all their subtleties. Yet
other music lovers who take the trouble to become familiar
with them will be amply rewarded. This is music that
merits repeated hearings, each of which will reveal
more to the attentive listener.
The best-known of the six is the Sonata no. 2 in
A minor, which begins with a direct quotation from
Bach's Partita in E, but soon wanders into
less direct Bach-like digressions. The medieval sequence
Dies irae appears repeatedly, as a sort of
idée fixe. Movement titles like Obsession,
Dance of the shades and The Furies
suggest a bit of the atmosphere of the sonata, but words
fall short in describing its actual sound.
There may be a violinist somewhere who plays this repertoire
better than Ilya Kaler, but I can't imagine who. His
surpassingly persuasive account of the A minor is but
one of the fine offerings on this CD.
The most intimidating of the sonatas, with its somber
and even tragic feeling and slow tempos, is probably
the single-movement Third in D minor, the Ballade
Sonata. Once again, Kaler delivers as lucid and
engaging an account of the score as anyone could reasonably
wish, making it more approachable than what one often
hears..
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