#10 -- Prokofiev Violin Concerto #1 in D
Hear the Prokofiev Violin Concerto #1 in D played here by Anne Akiko Meyers.
The tenth spot was the most difficult to fill, and it could have gone to any of several worthy pieces. Prokofiev won out partly because I decided not to get too controversial this early by letting Richard Strauss onto the list. Without Strauss, though, I had a gap begging to be filled by something somewhat modern, lest the list end up with too many Romantic indulgences.
Although the premier of Prokofiev's first violin concerto went relatively poorly for multiple reasons, one people cite is the fickleness of the Parisian audience, who thought it was not shocking enough. Contrast this with Stravisky's Rite of Spring, which famously flopped because Paris found it too ahead of its time.
Unlike some composers of the day, Prokofiev made an effort at a sound that was at least somewhat fresh, without filling the entire piece with passages ripped wholesale from Beethoven and Brahms. The piece opens with a nice, pretty melody and some energy, but the first movement is more intersting for its ability to make the listener feel as if he or she is sitting on a cloud, gently supported by some of the lightest notes in the violin repertoire. The real fire comes only when the second movement takes its turn, with the soloist running all over the place, sliding notes around, dodging blasts from the brass section of the orchestra, and playfully (or ironically) dipping into the forbidden world of harmoics. The third movement begins with some rhythmic notes that remind the listener that this is Prokofiev, not Shostakovich, and then the violin takes a bit of a backseat to some loud orchestration. Things get interesting again a few minutes later, with the violin doing a dizzying rising and falling routine, and with a few variations and a cameo of the airiness of the end of the first movement, this carries most of the rest of the concerto; the listener sits on the same cloud, but this time it moves up and down and up and down, and then it finally settles on a soft climb up into the sky, where it disappears.
This is not the most accessible concerto ever written, and the range of the dynamics makes it unsuitable for listening to while driving unless you enjoy either missing the pianissimo parts entirely or having your ears blown out by the forte segments, but it is an excellent piece for home or for work. Its somewhat short length makes it easy to fit onto an mp3 player, and concentrating on the notes makes for a good, medium-length excercise to get the brain in gear in the morning. Especially imporant for the latter function is that the concerto never lapses into a stale middle like so many others do; it covers wide enough ground to hold the attention of even the attentive listener from start to finish, and then it sends the listener away giddy.
The tenth spot was the most difficult to fill, and it could have gone to any of several worthy pieces. Prokofiev won out partly because I decided not to get too controversial this early by letting Richard Strauss onto the list. Without Strauss, though, I had a gap begging to be filled by something somewhat modern, lest the list end up with too many Romantic indulgences.
Although the premier of Prokofiev's first violin concerto went relatively poorly for multiple reasons, one people cite is the fickleness of the Parisian audience, who thought it was not shocking enough. Contrast this with Stravisky's Rite of Spring, which famously flopped because Paris found it too ahead of its time.
Unlike some composers of the day, Prokofiev made an effort at a sound that was at least somewhat fresh, without filling the entire piece with passages ripped wholesale from Beethoven and Brahms. The piece opens with a nice, pretty melody and some energy, but the first movement is more intersting for its ability to make the listener feel as if he or she is sitting on a cloud, gently supported by some of the lightest notes in the violin repertoire. The real fire comes only when the second movement takes its turn, with the soloist running all over the place, sliding notes around, dodging blasts from the brass section of the orchestra, and playfully (or ironically) dipping into the forbidden world of harmoics. The third movement begins with some rhythmic notes that remind the listener that this is Prokofiev, not Shostakovich, and then the violin takes a bit of a backseat to some loud orchestration. Things get interesting again a few minutes later, with the violin doing a dizzying rising and falling routine, and with a few variations and a cameo of the airiness of the end of the first movement, this carries most of the rest of the concerto; the listener sits on the same cloud, but this time it moves up and down and up and down, and then it finally settles on a soft climb up into the sky, where it disappears.
This is not the most accessible concerto ever written, and the range of the dynamics makes it unsuitable for listening to while driving unless you enjoy either missing the pianissimo parts entirely or having your ears blown out by the forte segments, but it is an excellent piece for home or for work. Its somewhat short length makes it easy to fit onto an mp3 player, and concentrating on the notes makes for a good, medium-length excercise to get the brain in gear in the morning. Especially imporant for the latter function is that the concerto never lapses into a stale middle like so many others do; it covers wide enough ground to hold the attention of even the attentive listener from start to finish, and then it sends the listener away giddy.