One of the most popular and attractive of the Soviet composers, Prokofiev has a unique voice that finds a place at the very top of most people’s list of favourite twentieth-century composers.
His music is witty, dramatic, poignant, brittle and ironic in flavour, yet always accessible and presented in a style that everyone can appreciate and enjoy.
Interestingly enough, although Prokofiev’s style is essentially twentieth century and Russian in character, children from all nationalities find his music particularly captivating, with the Troika from the suite Lieutenant Kijé and his narrated musical Peter and the Wolf being two all-time favourites.
Prokofiev was born into a very rich family in the Ukraine.
His father was an immensely successful businessman and his mother an accomplished amateur musician.
He went to the Conservatoire at St Petersburg at the age of thirteen, having amazed everyone with his prodigious talent – he wrote his first short piano pieces at the age of five and his first opera aged nine.
He was immediately placed in the capable hands of Rimsky-Korsakov, who taught him until the outbreak of war in 1914.
Prokofiev’s First Piano Concerto and Sonata No. 1 remain in the repertoire of many concert pianists today; these are essentially student works, but already show an extraordinary personality and individuality in their construction.
1917 saw the creation of his ‘Classical Symphony’, a work that cleverly combines a fusion of classical rhythms and melodic ideas with Prokofiev’s uniquely twentieth-century Russian idiom.
Prokofiev lived in the USA for fifteen years from 1918, and his works received mixed reactions during that time.
He was incredibly prolific and from this period came the opera The Love for Three Oranges, the Piano Concertos nos. 3, 4 and 5, the Symphonies nos. 4 and 5 and the ballet The Prodigal Son.
Prokofiev found greater favour from European audiences, and this period seems to have been a marvellous time of development that led on to another a highly productive fifteen years, when he was resident again in Russia.
The Russian authorities were strict about the development of music, literature and art at this time and, strange as it may seem, Prokofiev was called up in front of the Central Committee in 1948 on charges of ‘formalistic deviations’ and democratic musical tendencies – despite having scored the classic Romeo and Juliet ballet music, Cinderella, Peter and the Wolf and the Second Violin Concerto.
In order to avoid confrontations and problems he wrote a letter admitting the charges and promising to rethink his work.
The compositions that followed do not have the original spark of ingenuity and are positively bland in character compared with his earlier works, but they won him the Stalin Prize in 1951 and were pieces that the authorities approved of, even if Prokofiev was writing with handcuffs on.
He died just two years later, on 7 March 1953.
Symphony No. 1 (‘Classical Symphony’) Op. 25
1916, Symphonies, Orchestral
It seems quite amazing that Prokofiev could have composed such a light-hearted piece as his 1916 ‘Classical Symphony’ at a time when the First World War was at its height, the czarist government of his homeland was crumbling, and the Russian Revolution was just beginning. He even found himself dodging bullets during the February Revolution in Petrograd without being put off his care-free mood. The motive behind this work was to produce a symphony in the style of Haydn, whom some call ‘the father of the symphony’ – partly in tribute to the great composer, but also as an intellectual exercise. In his autobiography, Prokoviev wrote:
‘It seemed to me that, had Haydn lived in our day, he would have retained his own style while accepting something of the new at the same time. That was the kind of symphony I wanted to write: a symphony in the classical style. And when I saw that my idea was beginning to work, I called it the ‘Classical Symphony’, in the first place because it was easier . . . and in the secret hope that I would prove to be right if the symphony really did turn out to be a piece of classical music. I composed the symphony in my head during my walks in the country.’
Written in classic four-movement symphonic style, the first movement (Allegro) follows the traditional first-movement form which served Haydn and Mozart so well, with a delightful violin theme played very softly with only the tip of the bow. The second section, a Larghetto, features a sparkling solo flute which leads into a surprisingly bland third movement.
The finale, however, is well worth waiting for, with its persistent driving force and dashing sound.
Ballet
The plot of this ballet is taken from the biblical tale of a boy who leaves home thinking he can survive in the big, wide world, only to come crawling back to his family. There is some superbly sleazy music in the scene where the son is mixing with thieves and ne’er-do-wells.
The Love for Three Oranges: ‘March’
1921, Opera
Prokofiev’s opera ‘The Love for Three Oranges’ is based on the highly amusing folk tale about a prince whom nobody can make laugh.
Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Major Op. 26: 3rd Movement
1921, Concerti, Orchestral
Prokofiev completed his Third Piano Concerto during the summer of 1921 in the small town of St Brevin on the coast of Brittany, though he had been planning it, on and off, since 1911. However, all the ideas he came up with at the time he ended up using in other works, most notably in his ‘white’ works, where the music is deliberately written in a way where, if played on a piano, only the white keys are used.
When he finally decided to devote his time seriously to the third concerto, he found that he already had several themes to play with, and, not wanting to let them go to waste, put them all together with other, more unique material to eventually complete the work. The following winter Prokofiev gave the first performance of his Third Piano Concerto with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.
The first movement (Andante; Allegro) begins with a short introduction before a theme is introduced on a solo clarinet, which is then taken up by the violins for a few bars. Eventually the piano comes in and a lively play between orchestra and soloist follows. The second movement consists of a single theme and five variations with precise and delicate play from the piano. The finale begins with a staccato theme for bassoons against pizzicato strings. This is suddenly interrupted by a blustery piano, which goes on to ‘argue’ with the orchestra until it eventually takes over the theme and brings the whole section to a climatic ending and a brilliant coda.
Lieutenant Kijé: ‘Troika’
1933, Orchestral
Prokofiev was a great fan of satire and sentiment, yet had never found a subject upon which he could work these feelings. After settling for good in the USSR in the early 1930s, he was anxious to begin work on purely Soviet subjects yet, as he wrote in his autobiography:
’ . . . the musical idiom in which one could speak of Soviet life was not yet clear to me. . . . It was clear to no one at this period and I did not want to make a mistake.’
However, in 1933, he was invited to write the soundtrack for the film ‘Lieutenant Kijé’:
‘This gave me a welcome opportunity to try my hand, if not at a Soviet subject, then at music for Soviet audiences, and mass audiences at that.’
It was just what Prokofiev needed, for the story was perfect material for him, dealing with a satire on official bungling in early nineteenth-century Russia. The story goes that the Czar makes a mistake while reading a military report and assumes that there exists a lieutenant name Kijé. No one dares to point out this error, so a fictional military man has to be invented, complete with parents, a wife and a career and, finally, a burial to get rid of him.
The symphonic suite is Prokofiev’s adaptation of his soundtrack and is in five movements.
The Birth of Kijé: Kijé is introduced to the world by a fanfare on a military cornet. A military drum and lively piccolo announce the satirical march.
Romance: There are two alternative versions of this movement, one for baritone solo, the other for the orchestra alone.
Kijé’s Wedding: There is a deliberately bland feel to this movement, suggesting that part of the festivities take place in a tavern.
Troika: Here we hear the tavern song again, but this time accompanied by sleigh bells to suggest the motion of the traditional Russian three-horse sleigh.
The Burial of Kijé: Kijé’s exit from this world is merry rather than sad, considering how happy his creators must have been to get rid of him. The music is a summary of his life, beginning with the cornet fanfare of his birth and travelling through his romance and wedding. At the end, the solo cornet fades away to silence.
Romeo and Juliet Op. 24: ‘Romeo and Juliet’
1935, Ballet
Towards the end of 1934 Prokofiev was commissioned to write a ballet by the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow and, having signed the contract, set straight to work. From then on, a string of bad luck makes it amazing that he bothered, or succeeded, to finish the work at all.
The music was written over the summer of 1935, but when it was shown to the Bolshoi they declared that it was impossible to dance to, and promptly tore up the contract. Then Prokofiev was hit by a wave of bad publicity when people learnt that he had changed the ending of the play to a happy one, in which Romeo arrives at the tomb at just the right time to find Juliet alive and well. In his defence, he explained that his decision was purely choreographic, saying: ‘Living people can dance, the dying cannot.’
He did, however, change the ending back to the original when someone mentioned to him that the final passages of music were not, in fact, particularly happy anyway. During rehearsal for its first ever performance, after the Leningrad Ballet School had agreed to stage the work, problems arose once again, as Prokofiev and the choreographer could not agree on anything – the latter demanding that the composer write more music, while Prokofiev accused the choreographer of not being able to organise the dancers to the music. The dancers complained that they could not always hear what was going on and that the rhythms were all wrong. The full ballet was eventually staged in December 1946, though, in the words of Galina Ulanova, the Juliet of the first night:
‘Never was story of more woe,
Than this of Prokofiev’s Romeo.’
Split into two suites of seven pieces each, the music mirrors the play perfectly, with each main character having a phrase or theme by which they are represented. As a result, a conversation between the lovers, for example, is achieved by a clever interchange between a flute (Juliet) and a violin (Romeo).
1936, Orchestral
Peter and the Wolf is a ‘symphonic tale for orchestra’ with a narrator, which was written with the intention of teaching children the instruments of the orchestra. Each character is musically represented in a manner that instantly evokes the animal or person in question. The story itself has suspense, humour and a happy ending, making a perfect work for children.
The cat, musically portrayed by a clarinet, seems to slope along with a nonchalant air, seemingly oblivious to the potential danger that lurks.
1936, Orchestral
Peter and the Wolf is a ‘symphonic tale for orchestra’ with a narrator, which was written with the intention of teaching children the instruments of the orchestra. Each character is musically represented in a manner that instantly evokes the animal or person in question. The story itself has suspense, humour and a happy ending, making a perfect work for children.
The grandfather, represented by the bassoon, warns Peter of the dangers of the forest. His tone is full of authority yet tinged with affection.
1945, Ballet
Prokofiev’s Cinderella is a marvellous ballet based on the traditional children’s story.