Aalaykhyam I (1970)

Aalaykhyam I is in four main sections. The first section is in three parts which contrast with one another somewhat in the manner of a classical exposition; the first builds to a climax before making way for a statement of material based on a scale of three-quarter tones, while the third is exactly notated only in respect of pitch. The second and third main sections constitute autonomous musical events but, nevertheless, share some of their material with the opening section. The final section, however, progressively reduces this connection with the earlier music until it becomes completely independent of it and, contrary to the classical tendency to return to an original point of departure, reaches its end at the furthest possible distance from the starting-point of the whole work.

'Aalaykhyam' is a Sanskrit word meaning 'a picture', although its use as a title does not imply a necessary connection with a particular physical image.

- Naresh Sohal

With Aalaykhyam I (1970), Sohal enters the orchestral arena with striking assurance. Written in 1970 and premiered the following year by Andrew Davis and the London Sinfonietta, the work unfolds in vivid episodes where colour and rhythm carry the emotional weight. The opening, reminiscent of the music of Messiaen, with its quicksilver birdsong in winds and glistening percussion, feels almost like music of daylight and energy. This brightness soon gives way to stillness: isolated woodwind solos cradled on sustained string harmonies, while the harp and vibraphone ripple gently beneath. Out of this calm, brief explosions of brass disturb the surface — gestures that feel less like disruption than like memory asserting itself. Sohal’s use of aleatoricism (chance elements) lends the music a sense of breathing space. Players move through their material independently, creating textures that shimmer and shift, never quite the same twice. From this dense weave, momentum gradually gathers until the whole orchestra surges in glissandi and percussive brilliance. The close brings Sohal’s Indian sensibility to the fore: raga-like wind lines coloured by microtonal inflection, strings echoing the plucked resonance of the sitar. A lyrical ’cello solo rises as if in meditation, only to be swept away by a sudden, climactic chord — a gesture that feels at once defiant and unresolved.

- Utsyo Chakravorty – cover notes, Heritage Records release 2026