György Ligeti didn’t write for guitar. As a guitarist I lamented this because in my estimation, Ligeti was one of the greats. So I considered his oeuvre, searching for works that might be played on guitar without losing significant integrity. The Sonata for Solo Cello (1948-53) and his Viola Sonata (1991-94) were among the handful of pieces I found fit the instrument.

These pieces are representative of Ligeti’s early and late periods. Though written four decades apart, in some respects the works are similar. Apart from being his only two compositions for solo string instruments, they both draw deeply on his Hungarian, Romanian and Transylvanian roots. With the cello sonata, these folkloric elements were integrated to comply with societal norms whereas with the later work, they were used out of artistic defiance.

Ligeti wrote his Sonata for Solo Cello while living in what was then Soviet-controlled Hungary. As a young composer developing in a highly controlled cultural environment, Ligeti’s best option was to immerse himself in the study of his national folk music. Dialogo, the first movement of the sonata, developed from these studies and is reflective of Kodaly. It was written for a cellist with whom Ligeti was in love. She never performed the work and his love went unrequited.

Several years later, celebrated cellist Vera Dénes asked Ligeti for a piece. He thought that Dialogo’s folkloric nature might be enough to let the Soviet Composers Union accept it for public performance and wrote an exciting Capriccio to round off the work. This second movement, though relatively conservative for the era, was Bartókian in style and was considered formalist in that it develops a short, knotty melodic cell. It was deemed too modern by the ultra-conservative Composers Union and the work was banned. It wasn't performed until 1979, long after Ligeti had left Hungary. Ironically, it has since become one of his most regularly performed compositions.

The Viola Sonata is from a very different period of Ligeti's life. After escaping the East and creating the large-scale textual works of his middle period, he developed an approach that used clearly distinguishable rhythmic and melodic material. Though it wasn’t a popular move with many contemporary figures of the avant-garde, this led to a decade of great inspiration. The Viola Sonata comes towards that decade’s end. It is particularly folkloric, which made it further out of fashion with the anti-nationalistic avant-garde. Some accused Ligeti of reverting to neo-classicism. In my reading, Ligeti was simply forging his own path, striving for a union of traditional and progressive impulses.

Specific influences are evident in the Sonata for Solo Cello whereas the work for viola is uniquely Ligeti. He references folkloric idioms in a way that develops a personal style rather than displaying them as cultural signifiers. Ligeti uses the natural harmonic tuning of traditional horns, uses lots of additive rhythms in repeating patterns, makes striking use of 2nds, 4ths, 5ths and 7ths and writes a series of variations on his signature 'Lamento motif', a motif based on the descending cries of Hungarian funeral singers. The titles of some of the movements stem from folkloric traditions. ‘Hora Lunga' is a style of Romanian folk song that translates as 'long song'. 'Facsar' is a Hungarian word meaning 'wring' and refers to the painful feeling in the nose when suppressing tears.

The movements are variations on loosely connected material, much in the way each part of a Bach dance suite references similar melodic patterns. But it is also a series of variations on the concept of variation, where each movement approaches the concept differently. Hora Lunga repeats a small melodic idea that broadens with each repetition. Loop repeats identical pitch material but transmutes it by altering each note’s duration. Facsar retains the same melodic passage throughout but distorts it by surrounding it with increasingly complex harmony. Prestissimo con sordino presents a rapid, knotted melodic shape that is stretched over a varying accent pattern. Lamento is more of a standard variation form, except that the second half is in ghostly contrast to the jubilant first half. Chaconne Chromatique references the Baroque dance form except that the repeated harmonic content is simply a descending chromatic scale.

The argument can be made that there are mutations on the concept of variation within the movements. One example is the second half of the Prestissimo which is a variation on the set of variations that came before. Ligeti was interested in fractal geometry and applied its principals to his work. It could be said that the idea of material being generated through variations on a variety of variation techniques is representative of his fractal fascination.

The Sonata for Solo Cello and the Viola Sonata make interesting companions. The first was written by a developing composer, trying to forge an identity within the confines of a highly restrictive society. The second is written by a composer more comfortable in himself, reclaiming his roots and readopting them by choice in defiance of his peers.



Translating music from one instrument to another is a delicate art. Giving these works a life on the guitar meant concocting a variety of unique solutions. I created guitar mutes, invented tremolo techniques, discovered ways to accurately produce microtonal pitches on a fretted instrument and found a way to make an extended spectrum of natural harmonics audible.

There are moments in these transcriptions where I feel the essence of the original viola and cello versions has been compromised. The possibility for sustained and crescendoing notes is not reproducible on the guitar so slower movements reliant on these effects sound fairly different. But since the guitar is an instrument often associated with folk music, its decaying tones create an intimate atmosphere in slower movements that I feel is fitting. In densely contrapuntal sections, particularly in the Viola Sonata, some of the polyphony is clearer on the guitar. In the faster motor rhythmic movements, the percussive quality of the instrument highlights the inherent rhythmic patterns. This is not to say these versions are better - they are simply revealing in a different way. I hope the listener finds something new here.



This recording is dedicated to Phillip Houghton. Phil was an under acknowledged genius, composer, teacher, performer, philosopher and hermit. He profoundly influenced me and he was one of my best friends. We worked together for years on these pieces and in the process I became a far better musician and player. Phil will forever have a place in my heart, my body and between the notes.

Stephen Snook, your ideas and help with transcribing the Viola Sonata were invaluable. It was you who came up with the transposition and tuning that worked so well, I am very grateful.

I also want to thank Jean, Jim, Inês, Greg Pikler, Jane McLennan, Roger Lock, Cranbrook Studios, Miles Thomas, Kara Karavitis and Oskar de Mari-Jones.