A virtuoso work of excitement and beauty, expertly written for the two-piano idiom, this sonata is ripe for discovery by those up to playing it. It holds its own easily in the company of other twentieth-century sonatas for two pianos, such as those by Paul Hindemith, Vincent Persichetti, Igor Stravinsky, and George Walker. From a programming standpoint, it would stand as a marvelous foil to the imposing duo-piano sonata by Francis Poulenc.

Though cast in the time-honored three-movement sonata format of fast-slow-fast, there is abundant originality within each movement. The opening “Toccata” is like an athletic match of action, reaction, and interaction. In a continuous back-and-forth dialogue, the players seamlessly trade their roles of soloist or accompanist. They imitate, interrupt, and even taunt each other in high-speed tight action that is probably best experienced in a live performance where the spatial separation of sounds and the inevitable body language of the performers make the dual duel effects more apparent than even a superb recording can (see ex. 4.1). The “great excitement and energy” called for by the composer is frequently made more playful by short scherzando figures and calmed by legato melodies rising over quick but quieter ostinatos (see ex. 4.2). Together they contribute to the overall happy quality of this high-energy toccata that removes it from the hard-driven push required for some of Adler’s other pieces like “Rushing Waters,” the second of the Four Choreographies, and large parts of Canto VIII, the “Fantasy,” and the Sonatina.

The “Notturno (Nightmusic)” wipes the slate clean and offers several minutes of calm meditation that are among the most beautiful that Adler has composed. Through ear-catching sonorities, free but clear structure, emotional depth, and a sense of timelessness, he has prepared a haunting experience for those who play or hear it.

This movement is one of only four piano compositions by Adler to use the inside of the instrument, the others being Canto VIII and two one-page pieces in Gradus II (no. 17) and Gradus III (“Bells and Harps”). Although that use in Canto VIII is extensive and exhibitionistic in keeping with that piece’s purpose, this slow movement calls only for strumming the strings and some damping.