Sonata for Two Pianos and Percussion

Hungarian composer Béla Bartók is responsible for several of the most interesting works of the mid-20th century, including six string quartets and the justly famous Concerto for Orchestra. One of his finest chamber works, the Sonata for Two Pianos and Percussion, was written in Budapest in 1937 and premiered with the composer and his wife as pianists. Audiences and critics both praised the work, and Bartók brought the work along when he visited the United States in 1940. His combination of pianos with percussion seems strange at first. But the work reminds us that, strictly speaking, hammer-mechanism pianos are percussion instruments. So this work is actually scored for four percussion instruments, and it becomes simply a matter of whether the players are striking taut membranes, metal and wooden surfaces, or piano strings.
The first of the three movements dwarfs the others in size. It features a kind of sonata form in which one can detect elements of introduction, exposition, development, and so forth. But the other pillar of sonata form—the tonal arrangement between first and second themes—is completely transformed. Bartok’s tonal range far exceeds anything written in the form during the 18th and 19th centuries. The snare drum contributes a martial air, and the hard-driving piano chords may call to mind the concertos of Prokofiev and Shostakovich. A series of unpredictable rhythmic thrusts, redolent of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring, help punctuate the final moments.
The central slow movement typifies what has been called Bartók’s “night music” style. This style was not defined anywhere by Bartók himself, but he was aware of the term and did not discourage its application. Generally speaking, “night music” covers a range of material that is quiet, eerie, and often dissonant. Cross relations, such as sounding F and F-sharp simultaneously, are quite common. It depicts the sounds of nature at night, and scholars have labeled passages from about two dozen works with this designation. By contrast, the finale is an active dance in C major with solo xylophone taking the melodic lead. It’s a virtuosic ride dominated by complex rhythms, striking chromatic scales, sophisticated invertible counterpoint, and an amazing display of musical diversity. At the same time, Bartók composes infectious melodies that one can still hear after the snare drum’s final tattoo has drifted off into the distance.

(c) Jason Stell