Sergei Prokofiev
I make no apologies for going back to the Russians. In fact, while Prokofiev was very much a Russian, he was technically Ukranian - Ukraine was part of the Russian Empire long before it was part of the Soviet one. Prokofiev is very much a twentieth century composer, and much of his work has a true modernist feel to it, seeking out new directions. At the same time, however, he never lost his connection to what had gone before him and in doing so produced a body of work ranging from children's favourites to technically demanding pieces which require careful study to understand.
Prokiofiev was, surprise, surprise, a child prodigy, composing his first music at the age of five and famously being admitted to the conservatory in St. Petersburg at the age of 13. There is an apocryphal tale that his works were so experimental that he seemed destined to be failed in his composition exams, so wrote his first symphony in the style of Haydn in order to pass. In truth the first symphony was written more than two years after Prokofiev graduated top of his class, and he was already established as a composer of note before turning his hand to the symphonic form. By the time he left the conservatory he had completed several works, some of which were so radical as to earn him low marks in composition - presumably the origin of the symphony story - but he also wrote a delightful Sinfonietta (kind of 'symphony lite'), and delivered his first two Piano Concerti.
The First Piano Concerto is perhaps not quite as much of a tour de force as Tchaikovsky's first, but in its remarkably short span (it is all of 15 minutes long), it covers a lot of ground, and it remains a firm favourite to this day. The Second Piano Concerto is an extraordinary maelstrom of music, the second movement was once described to me as being like 'walking bare-headed in a thunderstorm'. The piano part assails you from all directions and the sound and fury rarely lets up. The listener is exhausted by the end, goodness knows how the soloist must feel. At the same time as he was producing these modern masterpieces, Prokofiev was dashing off suites and piano studies, chamber pieces and other orchestral works. Those familiar with the works of Emerson, Lake and Palmer, for instance, will recognise part of the Scythian Suite from around this time - although Prokofiev's original is somewhat more complex and fearsome than the 1970s remake. He even wrote a Toccata for piano which was too difficult for him to play (You can see Lang Lang making a decent fst of it here.).
World War I seems to have barely intruded upon Prokofiev's world, although he retreated to the familiar world of the Conservatory. he was still turning out several works a year - an early opera, 'The Gambler' was not well recieved, but two more popular works helped to define the 'Prokofiev sound'. The First Violin Concerto is, to these ears, just about perfect. Fiendishly difficult to play, and seemingly impenetrable to the casual ear at first listen, this is in fact a genuine masterpiece - one of the handful of standards of the violin repertoire. The surges and swoops of the concerto seem to stand in stark contrast to the aforementioned First Symphony, the 'Classical'. Deliberately written in the style of Haydn, but with many unmistakeable Prokofiev flourishes, this is one of those pieces of music which seems to be buried somewhere in everyone's memory, although many people would be pushed to actually identify it. It's possible to make a case for the 'Classical' having invented what is now called 'neoclassical', although Prokofiev was probably more interested at this time in pushing the boundaries of music.
Following the October Revolution and the civil war, Prokofiev fled Russia, fearing that his modern style would not sit well with Soviet thinking. He spent time in the US (as did Stravinsky and Rachmaninov) before settling in Paris. His output, briefly slowed by his travels returned to its former prodigious quality, and he began to devote himself to opera and, later, ballet music. If his first two piano concerti had been spectacular, the Third Piano Concerto somehow surpassed them, although it took several years for its genius to be recognised. Today, it is probably his most acclaimed and performed concerto, and it is not hard to see why. From the moment the piano arrives like an express train in the small of the back, the sheer drama and musicality of the thing drags the listener along on a tumultuous journey. The first movement, in particular, is so spectacular that it is far from uncommon for audiences to whoop out loud at its conclusion.
Prokofiev never had much luck with opera (his premieres tended to be failures, although the works have generally been better recieved as time has passed), although 'The love for Three Oranges' is now a standard part of the repertoire, and the march from it has taken on a life of its own. Prokofiev lived in Paris until 1934, and during this time he remained prolific, turning out symphonies, concerti, operas, ballet suites, and - a novelty, this - film music. The first of his film scores, Lieutenant Kije, became an orchestral suite, and the Troika movement has become a catch-all shorthand for sleigh rides and Christmas in general (that's what turns up in 'I Believe in Father Christmas' - wonder how many more times I can shoehorn Greg Lake into this?). There is also the small matter of the ballet score for Romeo and Juliet possibly Prokofiev's best-loved work (for adults, at least) - it certainly is surprisingly well known to Sunderland fans, who are deafened by 'Montagus and Capulets' before every home game. He also wrote the unusual Fourth Piano Concerto; unusual in that the piano part is scored for only the left hand.
Perhaps surprisingly, given the climate in the Soviet Union, Prokofiev moved back to what was now Leningrad. He seemed unaffected by Stalin's diktats on music which so proscribed Shostakovich to name but one, although this may be because he contented himself for a time with writing for children. It may be aimed at the younger generation, but every sentient being ought to own a copy of 'Peter and the Wolf' (try to get a copy with a decent narrator - I don't think you can beat Richard Baker, even after all these years, and you should most certainly steer clear of Dame Edna Everage. in fact, that sounds like generally good advice in any case.) Peter and the Wolf is an ageless gem. Never patronising, it cheerfully and subtly introduces the young listener to the basic concepts of orchestral music, and has some cracking tunes into the bargain. If you've never listened to any classical music, this is probably the best place you could possibly start - you'll learn about the parts of the orchestra, about themes and variations, and about how wordless music can still tell a story.
From about 1941 onward, Prokofiev is in increasingly bad health, although it doesn't seem to have slowed his output too much. More film scores, suites, sonatas, operas, symphonies and concertos followed, many of them modern classics. Perhaps the peak of this period is the sumptuous Fifth Symphony, although special mention should be made of the ambitious opera version of 'War and Peace' and the Cinderella Suites, taken from the ballet score. In his final years, Prokofiev finally came to the attention of Stalin and the Soviet authorities, and his style was heavily criticised, leading to a gradual withdrawal from musical life, although the Seventh Symphony, a fresh, almost naive-sounding work, did win a Lenin Prize, albeit posthumously.
Posthumously, that is, for both Prokofiev and Stalin. In one of the more extraordinary twists of fate, both men died of exactly the same cause (a cerebral haemorrhage) within an hour of each other on March 5th 1953. Prokofiev's body could not be moved for several days due to the funeral arrangements for Stalin, and it is reported that there were no flowers to be had anywhere in Moscow for Prokofiev's funeral, and that his passing was almost entirely overlooked at the time. History, of course, mourns only one of them.
Signature works:
(this list is necessarily highly selective and subjective - I'm sure others will have different suggestions to make)
Opera: The Love for Three Oranges
Symphony: No.1 'Classical', No. 5
Piano Concerto: No. 3
Violin Concerto: No. 1
Ballet: Romeo and Juliet
Film music: Lieutenant Kije
Other: Peter and the Wolf
Try This:
Favourite Prokofiev
(also - have a look at this: One of the greatest violinists I have ever seen playing possibly my favourite violin concerto. (the other two movements should be available from there) - you may need to persevere, because it's not 'immediate' music. But it's worth the journey.)