Sergei Prokofiev
We follow Prokofiev’s musical life through three distinct phases: his early years as a student and young composer (Enfant terrible) in pre-Revolution Russia, his life after immigrating to the West during the Bolshevik Revolution, and his return to Russia and life under the Stalin.
A set of Prokofiev’s autobiographical notes and reminiscences were published in 1960, seven years after his death. No matter how carefully worded by the author, they are shaped by the ideological weight of Stalinist terror that oppressed Prokofiev and everyone in Russian society in the 1930s, 40s, and early 50s. Still, these writings reveal much about the man and his music, including his own assessment of the five primary features that shaped his compositional style:
- Classicism
- Lyricism
- Motor Motion
- Harmonic Innovation
- Humor (the Grotesque)
We take up each of these features in the discussion that follows.
Classicism
The first of these descriptions is easy to understand: Prokofiev composed using time-honored classical forms favored by composers like Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Mendelssohn, Beethoven, Mozart, and Haydn: the symphony cast in distinct movements using strict forms like sonata-allegro and ternary “song form”; instrumental sonatas, concertos, and string quartets, operas and ballets, and songs. He believed his innovative ideas were best expressed by adhering to the formal elements that shaped Western music since the time of Bach.
Personal Data
Dates: 1891-1953
Born: Sontsivka, Donetsk Oblast, Ukraine
Residences: Moscow, St. Petersburg, Paris
Prokofiev Timeline
Enfant Terrible
The term enfant terrible (terrible or awe-inspiring child) refers child prodigies in any field, from music to mathematics, especially when they are rebellious in their approach to their discipline.
Through his virtuosic piano playing, aggressive early compositions, and overall brilliant mind, Prokofiev earned this epithet. Like any highly talented child, however, it carried him only so far. Still, his musical prowess did gain him entrance into Russia’s prestigious St. Petersburg Conservatory in 1905. There, while he cultivated some of his tendencies towards the avant-garde, he steeped himself in classical principles, finding inspiration particularly in the piano music of Beethoven and the classical principles that governed the works of Mozart.
Revolution on the Wind
Prokofiev entered the conservatory at age 13 at the beginning of an explosive period of Russian history. A series of countrywide strikes began in1904. Then, a terrible event known as “Bloody Sunday” occurred in January 1905 when a group of starving peasants accompanied by clergy came to petition the Tsar for food or financial relief. With cold winds whipping at their garments, they were met not by the tradition of a sympathetic audience with the tsar (or a tsar’s representative), but by bullets. Many were killed. This event ratcheted up the ever-growing cry that the Romanov tsars needed to be toppled and replaced by a government of “the people.”
Disruptions continued. In March, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, the grandest at the Conservatory during that winter, expressed public sympathy for the strikes and criticized the administration for its response to the growing chaos around them. This led to the eminent professor being fired. Administrators and faculty across Russian institutions could not voice dissent with tsarist policies. But firing Rimsky-Korsakov who, at that time, was arguably the greatest musician in all Russia . . . ?
Enshrined long ago in the small museum of the glorious Maryinsky Theater (called then The Kirov) was a cartoon showing administrators looking out the window of a grand office, gloating that Rimsky-Korsakov had been reprimanded and let go. Under the master’s arms were scores of the legendary operas he had composed—the core, in fact, of Russian operatic repertoire at the time. Behind him trailed a line of conservatory students who quit the school in his support, choosing instead to study privately with him (which they did).
Prokofiev was too new to be part of that entourage, but he surely took note. More disruptions followed at the conservatory, so that classes were cancelled, and Prokofiev had to spend many months back in the countryside, working diligently on his own musical development. After a while, things did settle at the conservatory. The esteemed composer Alexander Glazunov, who had quit in support of Rimsky-Korsakov, was reappointed and became head of the Conservatory. Rimsky-Korsakov was able to return to the faculty along with another dissenting composer, Anatoly Lyadov, whose ability to sketch a musical narrative through magical instrumental colors would be an influence on the young Prokofiev.
Suggestions diaboloque
Russia was abuzz with musical activity in the years before the First World War. As found across Europe, musical societies sprouted up in Russian cities, many devoted to the support of new musical styles. An organization calling itself “Evenings of Contemporary Music” in St. Petersburg focused on the avant-garde and became a popular venue for first performances of cutting-edge works by composers like Schoenberg, Richard Strauss, and Stravinsky. Prokofiev’s debut as composer-pianist at these evenings came on New Year’s Eve, Dec. 31, 1908 when he played a spectacular, edgy new work called Suggestion diabolique. It found success with those present, yet was dubbed by the critics as unintelligible. Today, we see the piece’s brilliance, revealing in concise form the powerful, engaging musical language that would characterize most of Prokofiev’s future compositions. It can also be seen it as a worthy successor to the kind of magnificent virtuosity championed by Franz Liszt.
Sarcasms, Op. 17
The very titles of Prokofiev’s early compositions tell us much about his musical vision. Expressing the character of the piano through concise, contrasting, colorful works sporting titles like Fugitive Visions, Suggestions Diabolique, and Sarcasms points out his fantastic ability to weave passages of rhythmic intensity, angular harmonies, virtuosic passagework up and down the keyboard, a full exploitation of the dynamic and coloristic possibilities of the piano, and radiantly beautiful melodies.
Piano Concerto No. 1
Alexander Glazunov, especially after the death of Rimsky-Korsakov (1908), stood as the most prominent composer in St. Petersburg. His musical output was impressive, and his pieces truly gorgeous, abounding in the most luscious vocabulary of the late 19th-century Romantic style.
This style, though, struck Prokofiev as outdated and limiting. Prokofiev had been admitted to the conservatory not only as a student of composition, but as what we today would call a “piano major.” That meant he entered the final competition wherein each pianist should play a concerto. The grand prize brought the award of a fine piano, an extravagant compensation for a music student in those days.
In a characteristic move, Prokofiev decided, on the sly, to perform his own, newly composed Concerto No. 1, frantically hand-copying the parts for the orchestra right up the very last minute (some probably were still damp from ink) and springing the whole endeavor on the unsuspecting panel of judges.
The concerto begins with a long, lush orchestral passage, lulling the listener into thinking “Yes, here is another beautiful concerto in Romantic style.” Then, suddenly, a volcano explodes: after a grand rest, the solo pianist (Prokofiev himself) erupts into a percussive traipse across the keyboard, complete with virtuosic gymnastics and sparkling scales that astonished the listeners. While edgy, true, the work is replete with a traditional structure and absolutely beautiful melodies. Still, the “damage” was done. Glazunov was shocked and upset. Any clever student would have played an acceptable Romantic concerto, like a concerto by Tchaikovsky or, better yet, Glazunov’s own esteemed concerto.
What would the judges do with this young man? The decision is still surprising. Over Glazunov’s objections, Prokofiev was awarded the first prize. His First Concerto was simply too wonderful (and brilliantly played) to be denied!
(You must be logged into the Circle of Scholars to view the rest of this page.)