On this day in 1936, the first performance took place of Prokofiev’s much-loved Peter and the Wolf. This piece was commissioned by the Central Children’s Theatre in Moscow, and given its first performance on May 2 in the Large Hall of the Moscow Conservatory. Prokofiev dedicated the work to his children.
You can enjoy the witty and touching setting below, in an arrangement for chamber ensemble at the Royal College of Music, narrated by Lucy Hollins and conducted by Sam Scheer:
Carolin Widmann (violin, below), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Tianyi Lu
Habibi Zhiân (2023) Korngold Violin Concerto in D major Op.35 (1945) Prokofiev Symphony no.5 in B flat major Op.100 (1944)
Symphony Hall, Birmingham Wednesday 25 February 2026, 2:15pm
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Picture of Tianyi Lu (c) Marco Borggreve
This afternoon’s concert saw the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra in action with the Chinese-born New Zealand conductor Tianyi Lu, and a programme that prefaced established works from the mid-20th century with a recent piece by an Iranian-born Canadian composer.
Its title translating not only as ‘Life’ in Kurdish but as ‘indignant’ or ‘formidable’ in Persian, Iman Habibi’s Zhiân takes its cue from Iranian government repression in response to protests after the death of Mahsa Amini in police custody. Although not directly programmatic, there is a discernible trajectory from the initial explosion of violence, through a sequence of more ambivalent yet increasingly consoling episodes – during which solo instruments (notably the oboe) come into focus, towards a culmination of unalloyed fervour. Such a statement could easily have descended into overkill, but Habibi gauges its progress with audible sureness of intent; abetted here by the conviction of the CBSO’s response. Little heard as yet in the UK, Habibi is clearly a composer with something worth saying and the means by which to say it.
Those with longer memories may remember when Korngold’s Violin Concerto was far from being the concert staple it is today, its uninhibited romanticism held in check by orchestration as fastidious as it is sophisticated along with a formal concision that ensures this work never outstays its welcome. It was such a balance between effusiveness and discipline which came across most clearly in Carolin Widmann’s playing, by turns tensile and expressive so that the music retained its focus throughout. Even she could not quite prevent the finale from veering towards bathos, as Korngold’s otherwise judicious recourse to earlier film-scores rather gets the better of him, yet as its uproarious closing bars surged onwards, there was little doubting the sheer effectiveness of this work taken as a whole or of Widmann’s ease when realizing it.
The stage was set for a memorable performance of Prokofiev’s Fifth Symphony which, in the event, was no more than decent. Not that this was because of technical failings, yet the initial Andante never quite recovered from a sluggish opening such that the strenuous development was unduly hectoring then the climactic restatement of the main theme sounded turgid rather than implacable. The scherzo’s central phase had appealing insouciance, but its outer sections lacked impetus with little emphasis on the ‘marcato’ designation to ensure the necessary edge.
The ensuing Adagio was the sure highlight, Lu’s preference for leisurely tempos and gradual accumulation of tension coming into its own not least with a seismic climax which subsided towards a coda of melting pathos. The finale opened enticingly, but progress here was again undermined by a lack of momentum; without which, its ostensibly genial themes never took flight. This was most evident with a denouement, among the most hair-raising in symphonic literature, whose seeming matter-of-factness rather left the whole work hanging in abeyance.
A pity so relatively lacklustre an interpretation ended David Powell’s final concert as CBSO sub-principal cello. Your reviewer remembers his engaging presence from four decades ago, and is glad an overt dislike of Mahler did not end his 45-year tenure almost before it began.
Eighty years ago today, two landmark operas of the 20th century received their world premieres.
Britten’s Peter Grimes, given its first performance at Sadler’s Wells under Reginald Goodall on 7 June 1945, is a breakthrough work in his output, one that would tie his music indelibly to the Suffolk coast. Telling the story of Grimes, the outcast fisherman, it captures the mysterious North Sea in rare clarity. You can read more about the opera’s history at my Good Morning Britten site, dedicated to the composer. The video links below are to a complete performance of the opera, with the Royal Opera conducted by Colin Davis:
Meanwhile the famous 4 Sea Interludes extracted from the work, Britten’s remarkably pictorial orchestral suite, are below – where you can follow the score:
Prokofiev‘s War and Peace is an altogether different beast – a mammoth project which first reached the public in the Great Hall of the Moscow Conservatory on 6 June 1945, where nine scenes from the opera were performed.
The finished opera is an epic dramatisation of Leo Tolstoy’s novel, which occupied Prokofiev from 1941 right up to the year of his death, 1953. Here is a famous recording conducted by Mstislav Rostropovich:
by Ben Hogwood Picture from the Bain Collection, Library of Congress
This day marks the centenary of the premiere of one of Prokofiev‘s most remarkable works, the Second Symphony. It was first performed in Paris on 6 June 1925, under the baton of Serge Koussevitsky.
It is difficult to imagine a work of greater contrast to the first symphony in the composer’s output, the much-loved ‘Classical’. Where that was a masterly updating of the classical style, bursting with good tunes, the Second initially impacts as a cacophony of noise and seemingly devoid of melody.
Listen more closely, however, and you will hear some distinctive themes beyond the bluster, some innovative orchestration and a highly original approach to form drawing initially from Beethoven’s 32nd and final piano sonata. Perhaps inevitably these qualities were lost on the first audience, who recoiled from the piece. Their reaction gave Prokofiev serious doubts about his ability as a composer.
Yet time has treated this piece relatively well, with no less a composer than Christopher Rouse showering it with praise. Listen below and see what you think:
Carlos Simon Fate Now Conquers (2020) Ibert Flute Concerto (1932-33) Prokofiev Symphony no.7 in C# minor Op.131 (1952)
Studio 1, BBC Maida Vale Studios, London Tuesday 4 February 2025 (2:30pm)
by Ben Hogwood Photo of Vinay Parameswaran (c) Roger Mastroianni, courtesy of The Cleveland Orchestra
For this concert linking seventh symphonies, the BBC Symphony Orchestra made their first public appearance with conductor Vinay Parmeswaran.
They began with music from Vienna via America, Carlos Simon effectively remixing the second movement of Beethoven’s Symphony no.7 and applying some fresh paint of his own. The piece was inspired by an entry Beethoven made into his journal in 1815, and takes its lead from “the beautifully fluid harmonic structure” of the symphony’s second movement, Simon composing “musical gestures that are representative of the unpredictable ways of fate”. Though Beethoven’s structure could still be glimpsed, it was viewed through music incorporating the language of Sibelius, Copland and John Adams to create a relatively familiar but ultimately thrilling orchestral vista. Simon’s development of the material was enjoyable to witness, though the sudden end felt underpowered in context. Nonetheless, here is a composer to investigate further.
Ibert’s Flute Concerto is one of the instrument’s calling cards from the 20th century, though is heard in concert rather less than it could be. Here it was performed by Elizaveta Ivanova, a flautist recently recruited to the BBC New Generation Artists programme and making her first appearance with the BBC Symphony Orchestra. She brought to the piece a welcome freshness, rising to the challenge of Ibert’s virtuoso solo part while including stylish phrasing and thoughtful dialogue with the orchestra. The graceful second movement Andante is the emotional centre of the concerto, and recalls the equivalent movement in Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G major in its beauty and softer-hearted sentiments. This was in vivid contrast to the outer movements, whose syncopations took the music closer to New York rather than Paris, Ibert’s cosmopolitan style enjoyed by the reduced BBC SO forces as much as by the athletic soloist. A fine performance, and a welcome revival for a composer whose colourful orchestral music and abundant melodies are a tonic.
Melodies, bittersweet or otherwise, are at the core of Prokofiev’s late Symphony no.7, written the year before his death. In a short interview section Parmeswaran implied the work was ‘softer’ than its predecessors, but there were no shrinking violets to be found as the second movement reached a juddering conclusion. Here Prokofiev’s attempts to write a competition winner, simultaneously pleasing Stalin, were affected by his own personal angst, for he was living in poverty at the time.
The weighty bass of the first movement and graceful cello theme of the third movement, marked Andante espressivo, were indicators of the emotional range of the symphony, but the biggest tune, heard from the full orchestra, was the second theme of the first movement, a soaring and winsome melody that returns to crown the final movement. Under Parmeswaran’s affectionate direction it was beautifully judged, though he was careful to ensure the final word in the symphony carried equal impact, the strange ticking of the percussion indicating the creeping passage of time. The symphony ended as it should, its smiling countenance compromised by a frown.
Listen
This concert was recorded for future broadcast on BBC Radio 3. A link will appear here when that becomes available.
Published post no.2,433 – Wednesday 5 February 2025