The big topic of conversation this week has been the 5^th and final Prokofiev Piano Concerto, which I conducted on Saturday night with Daniel de Borah and the Surrey Mozart Players. Many of you will have already seen the review, which came out yesterday.

The reviewer was quite right to point out the incredible difficulty of the piece- the last time I saw it performed it was with a leading recording orchestra and a world class soloist and it didn’t go so well, so it was a project we undertook with a sense of responsibility and caution. We worked extremely hard on it in rehearsals, and I know the musicians put in a lot of hours at home. From a conducting point of view, the main difficulty is in managing the countless abrupt changes of mood while giving the players the confidence to navigate their way through a piece demanding absolutely razor-blade sharp precision- it is virtuoso music for everyone on stage, not just the soloist. The first movement is already extremely tough, but its reworking as the Toccata third movement is almost absurdly hard to play, and allows almost no room for error. That said, I can’t even begin to tell you how fun it is to conduct.

I’ve said here many times that the 2^nd Prokofiev Piano Concerto is the greatest 20^th c. work for piano and orchestra. I’m sticking to that- Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in G minor is the Greatest Work for Piano and Orchestra of the 20^th Century, but the 5^th is without a doubt the work of an even greater composer, and an even more brilliant composer for the piano. The working out of ideas, the incredibly dense weaving of moods and characters, the surprisingly huge range of emotions from outright hilarity to deep, deep tragedy all point to this being the work of a master at the top of his craft, his technique much more seasoned for the decades that separate it from the 2^nd. The piano writing is beyond brilliant- only a virtuoso could have written it, because it is taking the possibilities for 2 hands and 10 fingers about as far as you can go. Still, the 2^nd is a more personal and more moving human document- to put it in somewhat simplistic terms, the 2^nd is Prokofiev’s heart, broken into a million pieces by the suicide of his friend, the 5^th is Prokofiev’s brain, overflowing with wit, craft, logic and creativity. Both are astounding documents, but the 2^nd is more devastating and more cathartic.

The reviewer made a brief reference to the difference in style between this concerto and his more famous music from Romeo and Juliet. The two pieces certainly don’t sound that much alike- the 5^th has a ferocity and an edge of danger missing from R&J, but the theme of the 1^st mvt and Toccata of the Concerto could easily have been a stand-in for the music he used for the Child Juliet. As a melody, it is Prokofiev at his most misleadingly naïve and straightforward- his ruthless, meticulous and complete dissection of that sweet and simple melody is perhaps the most interesting aspect of the piece.

Before the concert, Daniel and I were chatting and he mentioned the difficulty of the orchestral writing as comparable to that of Strauss, but Strauss’s music is infinitely easier to put together for an orchestra than Prokofiev’s. Strauss’s music is athletic, no doubt, but he also knew each instrument’s capabilities so intimately that whether you’re a violinist or a horn player, once you’ve practiced the part and sorted out a good fingering, it’s always playable and somehow feels natural and comfortable to play. Prokofiev, on the other hand, seems to need to leave things a bit ungainly for the poor players. Those quintessential leaps in his melodic ideas, whether the hops up and down the keyboard or violins in the Concerto or the minor ninths in the slow movement of the 5^th Symphony never get much easier.

Shostakovich had some unkind words for Prokofiev’s skill as an orchestrator, but I can’t see how you could simplify his orchestra writing without losing the very originality and pungency that makes his music so compelling. I like the Shosty-Proko rivalry. Although men of different generations, they remain one of the great musical twosomes of all time, right up there with Haydn and Mozart and Bruckner and Mahler.

Somehow, these twosomes always have the power to hear tell you something about yourself as a listener or musician, because chances are that whatever your preferences are are as good an indicator of where your won blind spots are, as of the strengths and weaknesses of the two composers. I think my feelings about Mahler and Bruckner have remained pretty consistent over the years- I couldn’t live without either, but I’m drawn to each in their own ways. My love of Mahler is an all-or-nothing affair- I either listen and study his music obsessively, or leave it on the shelf for months on end, whereas I’m always in the mood for a bit of Bruckner. I was chatting via email about the two in the wake of my Mahler 5 a couple weeks ago with one of my RCICW colleagues, who offered the following Bruckner vs Mahler smackdown-

“As for your not having lived until you conduct Mahler 5, I’d say not true. Now, the one I’d like to tackle is the 6th. But, you know, Ken’s marvelous experience notwithstanding, I think I’d take Bruckner 9 over Mahler 9; Bruckner 8 certainly over Mahler 8, AB 7 over GM 7 (is there even a question?), AB 6 and GM 6 close competitors–if from different planets; AB 5 over GM 5; AB 4 only slightly after GM 4, and then my formula runs into a bit of trouble since AB 1, 2 and 3 aren’t at the level of GM 1, 2 and 3. But, in favor of Bruckner–better late than never!”

One wise conductor’s point of view. My sister (also a conductor) has no interest in doing Bruckner- she calls it “boy music,” but my wife is every bit as big (if less obsessive) a Bruckner fan as me (but she also likes beer).

The Haydn-Mozart pairing is more interesting because I think it tells you more about how limited we are in our discussions about music. If you polled music lovers, writers and players around the world, I think there’s no doubt the Mozart would come out as the overwhelming favorite of the two among the overwhelming majority of people. However, there’s just no denying the fact that, Figaro, Giovanni and the Requiem notwithstanding, Haydn is consistently a better composer than Mozart (there, I said it).  I’ve got the Requiem on my desk today, and there’s no piece in all music closer to my heart, but Haydn is a better composer than Mozart. Even Mozart’s best symphony, the Jupiter, has passages that are clunkier and more formulaic than anything in almost any mature Haydn symphony.

And the Prokofiev-Shostakovich rivalry? Well, Shostakovich has always been a love bordering on an obsession, but very much in the same all-or-nothing way as Mahler. As I get to grips with the opus 82a Chamber Symphony, which I’m doing in a few weeks, I realize I’ve not been listening to or working on his music (other than a brief fling with the 2^nd Piano Concerto) in many, many months. Once I get stuck in on that piece, though, I think I’ll be sucked fully back into his world. I feel a pretty deep bond with the whole of his musical output, whereas with Prokofiev I love the specific pieces- I pretty much love every piece of his I’ve done, whether it be the Cello Sonata, the Fifth Symphony, Romeo and Juliet, Nevsky, the concertos or Kije. It’s a different kind of connection, but a strong one nonetheless.

For the final word on the Fifth Concerto, I return to backstage conversations from Saturday night. I was planning all along to say something to the audience about the piece, the question was what? How does one convey the essence of what makes this piece so wonderful in as succinct a way as possible.

“This piece is fucking insane,” I suggested, meaning the description with the utmost affection and reverence.

In the end, the fact that we were performing in a church (and a warm and welcoming one at that) mitigated against my using that elegant summation of Prokofiev’s achievement in his last piano concerto, but I offer it here for your consideration.