The Second Sonata for the Piano was written between the months of August and November of 1989. My objective was to write a work for piano that imposed certain restrictions on structure, style and texture. In this fashion I wanted to see if I was able to maintain the freedom necessary to express my musical ideas.

Music offers infinite variety in which to put one's musical thought. In this perspective, the force and strength of a concept and its ability to convince should not be dependent on or hindered by limitations (for limitations always exist, no matter how free the concept) Instead, they should rather transcend those boundaries, thus exceeding the material's apparent potential. My inspiration was, as is often the case, literary: I was fascinated with a certain writer's ability to transform both ordinary language and an otherwise quite ordinary tale into a spell-binding work. Out came a piece that has multiple features: Its texture could just as well have been perceived for string quartet. Its language is one that is highly melodic, and harmonically and structurally bound to tonality. A liberal amount of spicyness -not unlike Prokofiev- colors the style of the piece. Certain structural elements and musical events (those places where the string quartet becomes piano sine dubio) are directly inspired by Beethoven's piano writing which I greatly admire.

The first movement (con moto, un poco agitato) is written in classical sonata-form. The Exposition features contrasting 1st and 2nd periods, and rapid passage-work that is meant to entice the listener. Because of a long development-section, the recapitulation has been short-cut.

The second movement (scherzo) is written in a "moto-perpetuo" style. Highly virtuoso in nature, it features foot-tapping rhythms and a high level of excitement.

The third movement (adagio) provides a sharp contrast to the fireworks of the second movement. It features a simple melody, in 4-part texture and focuses on simplicity and directness. The initial tonic-pedalpoint adds to the atmosphere of austerity. The middle part breaks away from this sincerity. It develops a flowing melody into a climax that unites the first and this movement. The piece's austere beginning returns. This time it embellishes its second phrase with rich harmonies, forgetting its bare four-part texture for a moment. A rich arpeggio-chord signals the advent of the closing phrase, which, unlike the previous time it was heard, provides two final chords that conclude the piece in an atmosphere of quietude.