Sergei Prokofiev

• Born: April 23, 1891 (April 11, Old Style), Sontsovka, Russia (Ukraine)
• Died: March 5, 1953, Moscow, Russia

Symphony No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 44

• Composed: 1928
• Premiere: May 27, 1929, Paris, Pierre Monteux conducting the Orchestre Symphonique de Paris. 
• Instrumentation: 2 flutes, piccolo, 2 oboes, English horn, 2 clarinets, bass clarinet, 2 bassoons, contrabassoon, 4 horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, bass drum, campanelli, castanets, crash cymbals, snare drum, suspended cymbals, tam-tam, tambour de Basque, 2 harps, strings
• CSO notable performances: First/Most Recent Performance: February 2008, Pietari Inkinen conducting
• Duration: approx. 34 minutes

There were times in Prokofiev’s life when success came to him easily. As a young man in Russia, he created a furor with his early works. During his years in Paris, he was a protégé of Sergei Diaghilev, the powerful director of the Russian Ballet. And after his return to his homeland, he was instantly acknowledged as one of the leading Soviet composers. Yet Prokofiev also had his share of hard times, such as during his sojourn in the United States (1918–22) or in the last years of his life, after the 1948 attack from the Communist Party.

One of Prokofiev’s greatest ambitions—and one that constantly eluded him—was to become a successful opera composer. He had written his first opera at the age of nine, and he wrote about 10 more (some incomplete) over the years (only one of these, The Love for Three Oranges, has entered the standard repertory). There was hardly a time in his life when he was not occupied by operatic plans. Two of these were particularly close to his heart: The Fiery Angel and War and Peace. He spent about a decade working on each opera, but he never lived to see a complete performance of either.

Prokofiev began The Fiery Angel in the United States in 1919 and worked on the opera, with interruptions, until 1927. The libretto, written by Prokofiev himself, was based on the novel of the same name by the Russian symbolist writer Valery Bryusov (1873–1924). The novel takes place in 16th-century Germany, and, in Prokofiev’s own words, “is about a young girl who sees in her childhood a vision of an angel, coming to her and comforting her in the difficult moments of her life. When 16 years of age, the girl feels the dawn of love for the angel. But he in anger disappears, telling her that if she wants to love him as a human being, she must meet him in that form. Here begins the operatic action—the girl is trying to find the mystic visitor incarnate among the men she meets.”

For a while, the great conductor Bruno Walter was contemplating a production of the opera in Berlin, but he later backed out. A few selections were given in a concert performance led by Serge Koussevitzky in Paris in 1928. Prokofiev told the rest of the story in his autobiography.

They were well received and I was sorry the opera had not been staged and that the score lay gathering dust on the shelf. I was about to make a suite of it when I remembered that for one of the entr’actes I had used the development of themes from the preceding scene, and it occurred to me that this might serve as the kernel for a symphony. I examined the themes and found that they would make a good exposition for a sonata allegro. I found the same themes in other parts of the opera differently expressed and quite suitable for the recapitulation. In this way the plan for the first movement of the symphony worked out quite simply. The material for the Scherzo and Andante was also found without difficulty. The finale took a little longer. I spent far more time whipping the thing into final shape, tying up all the loose ends and doing the orchestration. But the result—the Third Symphony—I consider one of my best compositions. I do not like it to be called the “Fiery Angel” Symphony. The main thematic material was composed quite independently of the opera. Used in the opera, it naturally acquired its coloring from the plot, but being transferred from the opera to the symphony, it lost that coloring, I believe, and I should therefore prefer the Third Symphony to be regarded as pure symphony.

Since Prokofiev wanted the Third Symphony to be appreciated on its own terms, it is better to refrain from a detailed account of what comes from where in the opera. Yet the music frequently betrays the operatic connection (and this despite the fact that some of the material was first used in an unfinished string quartet, conceived before the opera). Prokofiev treated some of the familiar Classical patterns with more freedom than ever, with many unexpected tempo and character changes (one is tempted to say “scene changes”) in each movement. In addition, the first movement begins with what seems a true “curtain” effect, with a stormy opening motif gradually subsiding to make room for the first theme.

The first theme of the first movement (which follows the raising of the “curtain”) is played by the violins and horns in unison, to a complex accompaniment in the rest of the orchestra. It is presented four times in a row, each time in a different key. The orchestration gets thinner and thinner: by the last time, the theme is played by a lone oboe. Now Prokofiev moves on to a new section, based on two new themes: a lyrical idea for strings and a more martial melody for brass (the two themes are related in their melodic shapes). Starting slow and soft, this section gradually reaches a fortissimo climax, at which point the first theme and the brass melody return simultaneously. After this moment, the movement gradually unwinds: we hear the first theme in yet another form, played by the flutes and piccolo to a subtle orchestral accompaniment (harps and cello harmonics). The movement ends with a pianissimo return of the “curtain” motif, fading away into silence in the lowest register of the orchestra.

From a thematic point of view, the second-movement Andante is in a classical ABA form (with the second A much shorter than the first). Through some subtle changes in orchestration, however, the sections are made to overlap, and the result is a movement that is anything but conventional. The main theme—a quiet melody with asymmetrical inner divisions—is first presented by the muted lower strings and immediately repeated by two flutes and bassoon. Then the tempo becomes poco più mosso (a little faster). String tremolos, rapid woodwind scales, a characteristic two-note harp figure, and some violin glissandos add considerable excitement. The middle section has a lyrical theme in which chromatic half-steps, absent from the first theme, are prominent. A brief recapitulation of the first melody concludes the movement.

The third movement is, without a doubt, the most modern section of the Symphony. In this eerie scherzo, Prokofiev divided each string section (except the basses) into three subsections, having them play elaborate interlocking rhythmic figures that are punctuated by the muted glissandos of the first violins. This whole complex is constantly moving along a dynamic scale, from piano to forte and back again. A flute solo eventually joins in, ushering in the movement’s Trio, a much more conventional Allegretto section, after which the scherzo is repeated. The movement ends with a solemn epilogue, which is nothing but a slower version of the first movement’s “curtain” idea.

The Finale is filled with intense drama expressed in many contrasting sections in different tempos. It begins with an energetic Andante mosso for full orchestra whose power Prokofiev managed to intensify even more in the subsequent, frenzied Allegro moderato. This section culminates in a solemn slower passage, followed by a series of brief episodes. One of these is identical to the chromatic theme from the second movement, only this time it is played fortissimo by the full orchestra against a menacing background. The next episode is tranquillo and mysterious, but it is not long before the Allegro moderato returns with even more “bite” than the first time (the trumpet parts are even more piercing than before). The work ends dramatically with a recall of the solemn theme from earlier.

—Peter Laki