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Wednesday 3 February
Sergey Prokofiev (1891–1953)
Piano Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 16 (1912–13)
1 Andantino
2 Scherzo: Vivace
3 Intermezzo: Allegro moderato
4 Allegro tempestoso
Yefim Bronfman piano
Prokofiev was a born show-off and a born competitor, and
his music demonstrates that time and again – not necessarily
in aggressive or unpleasant ways, though that side of his
nature certainly surfaced from time to time, but rather in his
fondness for telling stories, for casting magic spells, for
demonstrating gymnastic, sporty and especially balletic
prowess. Those are all qualities calculated to hold an
audience in thrall, and they combined to make him a natural
for the concerto medium.
His Second Piano Concerto gives the fullest possible rein to
all these gifts. He composed it in 1912–13, just before his
graduation from the St Petersburg Conservatoire, primarily
as a vehicle for his own virtuosity, and many would rate it by
some distance the most technically demanding of all
concertos in the standard repertoire. Though Prokofiev never
admitted as much, it would not be surprising had he been
deliberately aiming to outdo Rachmaninov’s massive Third
Concerto, which was published and first performed in Russia
in 1910. Prokofiev’s score was destroyed by fire at the time of
the 1917–21 Civil War in the early days of Bolshevik rule. He
reconstructed and reorchestrated it in his voluntary exile,
during a stay in Bavaria in 1923.
The deceptively lulling first theme is marked narrante
(narrating), just as Rachmaninov’s plainer opening theme
could easily have been. But this story proves to be not one of
Rachmaninovian nostalgia and longing, nor of heroism and
triumph, nor even one in which the soloist becomes
emotionally embroiled. Rather it is in essence a fairytale,
populated by larger- and stranger-than-life characters,
unfolding in a world of mythical castles, potentates,
hobgoblins and sundry grotesques. It asks us to suspend
disbelief and look on in childlike awe.
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