Program Notes: Prokofiev Piano Concerto No. 2
Jan Lisiecki returns to perform Prokofiev's Second Piano Concerto with the Symphony (June 6, 8 & 9, 2024).
Jan Lisiecki pictured here with the Seattle Symphony in 2022. Photo by Brandon Patoc.
FAZIL SAY
Kapalı Çarşı (Grand Bazaar)
BORN: January 14, 1970
WORK COMPOSED: 2015
WORLD PREMIERE: February 18, 2016, with the Real Orquesta Sinfónica de Sevilla conducted by John Axelrod.
What to Listen For:
The way Fazil Say blends classical form with Turkish melodies to paint a picture of Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar
The way Fazil Say blends classical form with Turkish melodies to paint a picture of Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar
Fazil Say maintains parallel careers as a distinguished pianist and composer. He blends elements from Turkish music, Western classical and jazz to inform his boisterous compositions. He began his musical journey as a gifted pianist who loved to improvise and craft his own pieces. As he studied piano, he maintained focus on composing works for the piano, chamber ensembles and full orchestra.
Grand Bazaar takes the form of a symphonic poem, or a piece that evokes a story from another, nonmusical source such as a poem, work of art or novel. Say conjures the image of Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar, which is one of the world’s most recognizable markets. The buzzing marketplace features more than 4,000 shops, 61 covered streets and welcomes thousands of visitors who travel from around the globe to experience this central landmark.
Say looks to the hustle and bustle of the Grand Bazaar, as well as Turkish culture, for musical inspiration throughout Grand Bazaar. The 12-minute work exemplifies the composer’s culture- and genre-blending style, growing out of a mix of Eastern scales and modes, syncopated rhythms and classical form. The piece opens with a bouncy, deep wind melody bolstered by those syncopated rhythms, which build a sense of anticipation for what’s to come as one enters the Grand Bazaar and is immersed in the lively activity. Strings quickly take over, slithering around a scale as the thrilling rhythm pulses. The music starts revving up, as if the crowd is getting more frenzied, until all of a sudden it cuts out into softer, slower filaments featuring bumbling brass in conversation with gliding strings, creating more excitement again. By the final act of the one-movement piece, there’s a burst of thrilling, fast-paced runs that are passed around from section to section as timpani take over with a roaring beat that closes the work.
SERGEI PROKOFIEV
Piano Concerto No. 2
BORN: April 23, 1891
DIED: March 5, 1953
WORK COMPOSED: 1912–1913 original; reconstructed and revised in 1923
WORLD PREMIERE(S): September 5, 1913, at Pavlovsk; revision May 8, 1924, in Paris with Serge Koussevitzky conducting.
What to Listen For:
The mix of rich orchestral interludes, nonstop virtuosic technique required of the soloist and thunderous melodies that carry the concerto all the way to its final charge of energy.
The mix of rich orchestral interludes, nonstop virtuosic technique required of the soloist and thunderous melodies that carry the concerto all the way to its final charge of energy.
The piano always held a special place in the heart of Sergei Prokofiev. The Russian composer began his musical journey on the instrument under the tutelage of his own mother, who was herself an accomplished pianist. But while he studied and mastered the classical repertoire, he also found inspiration in writing his own melodies, discovering his composing voice as he improvised on the piano.
He composed many works for the instrument, including five piano concertos that have become some of his most cherished music. They are born from his deep expertise on the instrument and showcase his deft skill in both composing and performing. He wrote the Second Piano Concerto at just 21 while on a break from his studies and fresh off the heels of his first concerto, which had surprised audiences with its flashy technique. His Second was first premiered in 1913, but the original orchestral score was destroyed in a fire during the Russian Revolution; Prokofiev reconstructed it in 1923 while living in Paris.
This concerto is known for its particular intensity, requiring the soloist to have utmost precision and mastery of their abilities. It also showcases Prokofiev’s daring style: at the time of the premiere, the piece looked to the future of melody and harmony, drawing on Prokofiev’s interest in Modernism across artistic mediums. Audiences were taken aback by his musical language. Today, the music shows Prokofiev’s explorative nature — his voice as it crystallized through the Modernist period.
The first movement, Andantino—Allegretto, opens with just a few distant notes and a measured melody in the piano, beginning the concerto with an air of mystery. Lush orchestral melodies swirl around the piano as it crescendos, but strings are muted, giving their instruments a gauzy quality; the piano ebbs and flows between fullness and quietude. Eventually, the movement speeds up and lightens, weaving together buoyant piano plinks with the orchestra’s hushed urgency. The movement continues to seesaw between these gentle and tense moments, setting the stage for the concerto with tumultuousness.
With the second movement, Scherzo: Vivace, Prokofiev writes for the pianist’s skill; the soloist and orchestra are in a race against each other, playing nearly nonstop runs that glide and crash together. It’s a bright burst of energy, a jolt that guides us into the concerto’s murkier moments.
When Prokofiev began to write the Second Piano Concerto, he sought to explore the instrument’s darker side, illuminating its deep resonances with thunderous melodies. This is particularly evident in the third movement, Intermezzo: Allegro moderato, which opens with the orchestra’s bass instruments playing jagged melodies that seem just out of step with each other. Later, the full orchestra and piano explode into a raucous storm. With the last movement, Finale: Allegro tempestoso, Prokofiev offers the pianist one last chance to show off their skill, writing flashy phrases made out of buzzing runs that eventually fade into one last delicate ode, only to return with a fervor that sends the piece out with a final rush of kineticism.
WILLIAM WALTON
Symphony No. 1 in B-flat minor [corrected 1968 version]
BORN: March 29, 1902
DIED: March 8, 1983
WORK COMPOSED: 1932–1935, corrected in 1968
WORLD PREMIERE: December 3, 1934 (incomplete), with the London Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sir Hamilton Harty.
What to Listen For:
Walton’s soaring and colorful melodies, especially in the fourth movement’s victorious atmosphere.
Walton’s soaring and colorful melodies, especially in the fourth movement’s victorious atmosphere.
When William Walton’s First Symphony premiered in 1934, it was unfinished, but its dazzling three movements showed promise, and Walton would go one to complete and premiere the fourth movement the following year. Born to a choirmaster and singing teacher, music was woven into the threads of Walton’s life from the start, finding him as he sang in choirs and enrolled in college. But he didn’t have the means to go to composition school, so he embarked on the journey on his own (with a little help from a mentor, conductor Ernest Ansermet, whom he met through Sacheverell Sitwell, a friend from Oxford).
Though Walton was largely self-taught, his skill at composing started from an early age. At 16, his piano quartet exemplified his burgeoning style, as did his other early pieces, like 1922’s String Quartet and 1923’s Toccata for Violin and Piano. But perhaps most memorable and considered scandalous at the time was Façade, a combination of music composed by Walton and poetry written and read aloud by Edith Sitwell, who he met in 1920. While it was initially condemned by critics, Walton’s sense of humor and daring style left a mark. Eight years later, his 1931 cantata Belshazzar’s Feast would similarly channel his bold voice but was embraced by audiences and became one of his most celebrated works.
His First Symphony further sharpened and showcased his rich, textured style and was written during a particularly agonizing period of his personal life. To compose this music, he drew from a deep well of emotions bubbling up around his tumultuous relationship with Baroness Imma von Doernberg, reflected in the progression of the first three movements, and their break-up in 1934 is likely what prompted his inability to finish the work at the time. The new love he found with Viscountess Alice Wimborne, with whom he became involved eight months later, by all accounts inspired his completion of the symphony’s fourth and final movement.
The work’s backdrop of love lost and found again is echoed in a work that alternates between dark, inflamed lows and sugary highs. But more than that, this symphony showcases Walton’s prowess at crafting delicately interwoven melodies, fiery phrases and writing for the orchestra’s conversational voice. The first movement, Allegro assai, opens the symphony with stormy woodwinds gradually unfurling into a forlorn oboe melody that evokes the sound of pleading or a wail. Strings lushly respond, filling out the oboe’s poignancy with sweetness.
The interplay between darkness and light continues to thread the symphony together as it unfolds. The second movement, Presto, con malizia, builds from a perpetually pulsing tremolo that spreads across the orchestra, gradually blooming into a brilliant series of soaring melodies; the third movement, Andante, foregrounds a blissful flute melody and a sense of calm, only to later erupt into a full orchestral melody that evokes the rich textures and melancholy employed by composers like Sibelius.
The fourth movement, Maestoso - Brioso ed ardentemente - Vivacissimo, though, finds Walton’s music at its most luminescent, wiping away the tempest of the previous three movements and seeming to reveal the composer’s happier state of mind at the time. It opens with the full orchestra playing broad, rich chords, held over a long period of time as if they’re floating. It’s like a victory lap — Walton’s orchestral colors are at their most vibrant, his melodies at their boldest. It’s no wonder the symphony was a success — Walton harnesses all the turmoil and beauty of his experiences into music that evokes the magical sheen of a rainbow.
All notes by Vanessa Ague © 2024