THE FLORIDA ORCHESTRA | 2017-2018 42 Program Notes SERGEI PROKOFIEV
CONCERTO NO. 2 FOR VIOLIN IN G MINOR, OP. 63
Duration: ca. 26 minutes
Overview
When Prokofiev returned to Russia late in 1933 after his long
residency in the West, filled with allegiance to the socialist
cause, he dedicated his art to fulfillment of the dream of the
Revolution. In his brief Autobiography of 1946 he wrote, “It
is the duty of the composer, like the poet, the sculptor or
the painter, to serve his fellow men, to beautify human life
and point the way to a radiant future. Such is the immutable
code as I see it.” He had already mapped out (in an article
for Izvestia in 1934) the stylistic direction that music should
follow in order to achieve his lofty aim: “The question of what
kind of music should be written at the present time is one
that interests many Soviet composers today.... It is not easy
to find the right idiom for this music. To begin with, it must
be melodious; moreover, the melody must be simple and
comprehensible, without being repetitive or trivial. Many
composers have difficulty in composing any sort of melody;
all the harder is it to compose a melody that has a definite
function. The same applies to the technique and the idiom:
they must be clear and simple, but not banal. We must seek
a new simplicity.” Once back in his homeland, Prokofiev
wasted no time in putting into practice his theory of creating
music that would communicate simply and directly to
listeners, and within three years, he wrote some of his most
enduringly popular scores: Lt. Kijé, Romeo and Juliet, Peter
and the Wolf and the Second Violin Concerto.
The commission for the Concerto came from a group of
admirers of the Belgian violinist Robert Soetens just at
the time Prokofiev was considering such a work, and the
proposal was accepted quickly. The Second Concerto is
music of warmth and lyricism, with barely more than a hint
of the spiky harmonies, motoric rhythms and diablerie that
marked many of his earlier works. Gerald Abraham assessed,
“Prokofiev’s formula for turning himself into a Soviet
composer was to emphasize the lyric side of his nature at
the expense of the witty and the grotesque and the brilliant
sides.” Edward Downes thought this Concerto should be
labeled neo-Romantic “or even neo-Mendelssohn.” The work
has an undeniable emotional effect. It was an immediate
success at its premiere in Madrid late in 1935, and so moved
the Boston audience when Jascha Heifetz first played it
in America two years later that many wept openly at the
sentiment of the slow movement. Heifetz called it one of
the half dozen greatest concerted works ever written for
the violin, grouping it with the examples of the form by
Beethoven, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Sibelius and Elgar.
What To Listen For
The Concerto’s direct lyrical expression and clean formal
lines are evident from its first gesture. The slightly
melancholy main theme, built around a simple triadic
configuration, is presented simply by the unaccompanied
violin. The orchestra takes over the melody, allowing the
soloist to apply to it some figurative arabesques which
serve as the transition to the second subject. This theme,
one of Prokofiev’s greatest melodic inspirations, is sung by
the violin above a quiet, undulating accompaniment in the
strings. The development section, an elaboration of the
two main themes, achieves a masterful balance of flashing
virtuosity, thematic manipulation and lyrical effusion. The
recapitulation is begun by cellos and basses, and continues
with the second theme soaring high into the soloist’s range.
A brief coda, based on the main theme, brings the movement
to a hushed, mysterious close. The second movement is one
of the most rapt, transcendent inspirations of 20th-century
music, and, like the opening movement, is unabashedly
romantic and filled with a haunting bittersweet emotion.
The finale is in the traditional rondo form. Its theme is an
ebullient dance melody that exudes some of the fiery spirit
of a Gypsy fiddler.
SERGEI RACHMANINOFF
SYMPHONY NO. 2 IN E MINOR, OP. 27
Duration: ca. 60 minutes
Overview
Early in 1906, Rachmaninoff decided to sweep away the
rapidly accumulating obligations of conducting, concertizing
and socializing that cluttered his life in Moscow in order to find
some quiet place in which to devote himself to composition.
His determination may have been strengthened by the
political unrest beginning to rumble under the foundations
of the aristocratic Russian political system. The uprising of
1905 was among the first signs of trouble for those of his
noble class (his eventual move to the United States was
a direct result of the swallowing of his family’s estate and
resources by the 1917 Revolution), and he probably thought