No, there is no misprint
in the heading. This sonata has a
running-time of more than 2½ hours,
which makes it by some distance the
longest work of its kind; probably
the longest of any instrumental work.
The first movement alone is longer
than the first act of Die Walküre
or the complete Cavalleria
rusticana. But the physical size
of a work of art – whether cm², number
of pages or length in minutes – is
no measure of quality in itself. The
first questions one poses concerning
this particular work are: What substance
can there be? Can the composer keep
the listener’s attention alive during
so long a time-span? The answer is,
quite simply: Yes, he can. Admittedly
I wasn’t able to play the whole work
at one sitting and I doubt that a
live performance would be practicable,
considering the enormous technical
demands on the soloist and, not least,
the sheer stamina it requires. Ulf
Wallin says in his liner notes, that
this was by far the most taxing task
he had ever tackled. As can also be
seen in the heading the recording
involved a great number of sessions,
spread over a period of 2½ years.
This was preceded by years of study
and practise.
I gave an outline
of Claude Loyola Allgén’s life
and work when reviewing his second
string quartet a while ago (review).
Let me just say that the more I hear
of him – and the opportunities are
few and far between – the more fascinating
this most personal and original of
composers becomes. The sonata was
one of his last finished compositions
and miraculously survived the fire
that ended Allgén’s life. It
is constructed in the traditional
three movements: I. Allegro moderato
[73:23] – II. Largo [59:01]
– III. Finale: Rondo [27:46].
Within this frame-work he creates
his very personal world, which can
most easily be described as kaleidoscopic.
He ranges "from major and minor
to atonality. He exploits the entire
chromatic scale without being bound
to serial technique. An important
principle is his striving for consistent
use of the total-chromatic – to fill
an interval or step of the scale with
the notes in between so that all twelve
tones are used." I am quoting
Peter Holmberg’s detailed analysis
in the booklet, where he also mentions
the importance of number symbolism,
which was natural to Allgén
who was trained in theology. What
is also immediately noticeable is
the amount, the flow of notes, a kind
of restless need to fill out any silence.
Holmberg also refers to the very last
composition by Allgén which
was given the title Horror vacui
(fear of empty spaces). There are,
however, resting points where the
music finds new directions so in practice
each movement is divided into several
subsections. The first movement has
nine cue points, the second has six
and the finale has three. Not all
of them are easily noticeable but
many are and this also makes it possible
to start listening ad libitum.
For practical listening it is not
necessary to have a deep knowledge
of the compositional principles behind
the work. This is in much the same
way that Berg’s Wozzeck, which
is so formally strict-designed but
of which the composer himself said
that the listener shouldn’t be aware
of the method.
Without actually
being in any way descriptive – Allgén
stated that ‘music is incapable of
expressing anything extra-musical,
but this is at the same time "a possibility
of manifoldness, of ambiguity, which
certainly, fundamentally is based
on the freedom which is characteristic
of the human mind"’ – the sonata leaves
the field open for the individual
listener to experience pictures, colours,
actions or just wallow in the melodic,
rhythmic, harmonic and architectonical
riches. Harmonically it is partly
very daring with cringing dissonances.
Though written for a single melodic
instrument the frequent use of double
stops gives the music a grandeur and
fullness that makes the heavenly length
possible to digest. Other characteristics
are big leaps, sudden changes in mood,
lovely cantilenas, almost singable.
Musicweb reviewers are advised to
give references and draw parallels
with other composers to give readers
a gist of what the music sounds like.
In the case of Allgén I am
at a loss, just as with his string
quartet. Bartók? His sonata
for solo violin may have been an inspiration
but there is not much similarity.
The Hungarians always writes music
that breathes; Allgén always
conveys a feeling of breathlessness.
At the same time this also creates
a sense of hypnosis. Listening with
headphones, and thus being cut off
from the outer world, this impression
was reinforced. The closeness to the
instrument made me even more aware
of the tremendous playing of Ulf Wallin.
Having lived with this music for so
long there is such conviction about
his playing that even if I hadn’t
liked the music I would have appreciated
it in terms of outstanding musicianship.
The instrument literally glows, the
horsehair of the bow seems aflame
and the beauty of tone, combined with
the intensity of the playing makes
this one of the most enthralling musical
experiences I have had for a very
long time. Every phrase, every note,
sounds ‘lived in’ almost like a religious
revelation.
The sonata comes
in a box with 3 CDs although it is
allotted only a two disc number, which
means that one disc is free. The recording,
made in a small 14th century
church north of Stockholm, is warm
and atmospheric. The booklet has,
besides Peter Holmberg’s penetrating
analysis, a very personal essay by
Ulf Wallin about his struggle from
the first glimpse of the manuscript
to the finished recording. The whole
project became a labour of love and
it is good to be able to report that
the finished result is every bit as
successful as he could ever have hoped.
As I also said about
the string quartet, this is no easy
listening assignment. It sometimes
makes you feel quite exhausted but
renewed listening pays dividends.
Göran
Forsling
for
details
Ulf Wallin (violin) 
