By the mid-1930s, Sergei Prokofiev was a composer in motion-both literally and artistically. Having left Russia in 1918, he spent years living between the United States and Paris, all while maintaining a restless touring schedule. It was during this period of transition, as Prokofiev prepared to return to his homeland, that he composed his Violin Concerto No. 2 in G Minor, Op. 63. The work was commissioned by French violinist Robert Soëtens, for whom Prokofiev had previously written his Sonata for Two Violins. As the composer himself noted, the concerto’s composition was a reflection of his “nomadic concert-tour life,” with themes and orchestrations penned in Paris, Voronezh, and Baku, and its premiere taking place in Madrid in 1935.
The concerto unfolds in three movements, each revealing a different facet of Prokofiev’s evolving style-a blend of lyricism, clarity, and dramatic contrast.
The first movement, Allegro moderato, opens with a solitary, haunting melody played by the violin alone, deep on its G string. This theme, marked by its simplicity and dark color, sets a mood of introspection, soon joined by muted violas and basses in a distant key. The movement’s second theme, introduced by the soloist and murmuring strings, shifts to the warmth of B-flat Major, offering a lyrical counterpoint to the opening’s austerity. Throughout, Prokofiev’s penchant for quick tonal shifts and subtle virtuosity is evident, culminating in a recapitulation that reconciles the movement’s contrasting tonalities.
The second movement, Andante assai, is a sunlit contrast to the first. Here, the violin spins a long, arching melody over a gentle pizzicato accompaniment, evoking a sense of romantic yearning reminiscent of Prokofiev’s contemporaneous ballet, Romeo and Juliet. The movement’s structure is one of theme and variation, with woodwinds and strings taking up the melody in turn, and the soloist providing both soaring lyricism and delicate decoration. The ending is unexpectedly pensive, as the roles of soloist and orchestra are reversed, leaving the low strings to close with quiet introspection.
The finale, Allegro, ben marcato, bursts forth as an angular, dance-like rondo. Prokofiev’s orchestration here is especially vivid, with castanets lending a Spanish flavor-a nod to the concerto’s Madrid premiere. The movement is marked by rhythmic drive, bold dissonances, and bursts of virtuosity from the soloist, who is often set against insistent percussion and a pulsing bass line. Despite a brief, more polite second theme, the movement is dominated by its restless energy, ending in a whirlwind coda marked tumultuoso, as the violinist dances furiously to the finish.