Serge Prokofieff and his orchestral music — A Reader’s Guide

Prokofieff's Own Categories as Analytical Lens

The book's most distinctive feature is its reliance on Prokofieff's self-analysis. The composer's 'Creed' is presented verbatim, dividing his output into four lines: classical (including neo-classical works like the Classical Symphony), innovation (from early harmonic experiments to Scythian Suite and The Gambler), toccata or motor element (citing Schumann's influence), and lyrical (which Prokofieff claims was long overlooked). Biancolli uses these categories as chapter headings, organizing discussions of individual works under them. This structure means the book is less a chronological survey than a thematic taxonomy, one that privileges the composer's own voice over external critical judgments. The excerpts show Biancolli quoting Prokofieff extensively, including an interview where the composer describes his method: 'I am always on the lookout for new melodic themes. These I write in a notebook, as they come to me, for future use.'

The Fifth Piano Concerto: A Case Study in Detail

Biancolli devotes substantial space to the Fifth Piano Concerto, reproducing Prokofieff's own movement-by-movement analysis from a Boston Transcript interview. Prokofieff emphasizes that the work is 'entirely on the melodic,' with five movements containing at least four themes each, yet the entire concerto lasts 'over twenty minutes.' He insists there is 'actual development of the themes, but this development is as compressed and condensed as possible.' The composer explicitly denies a program and rejects the term 'march' for the second movement, cautioning against 'vulgarity or commonness.' Biancolli then juxtaposes this 'mild and dispassionate self-appraisal' with the 'slashing commentary' of Soviet biographer Nestyev, who describes the toccata as having 'bold jumps, hand-crossing, and Scarlatti technic in highly exaggerated form' and 'monstrous extremes.' This contrast—between Prokofieff's measured technical description and Nestyev's ideological critique—reveals the book's layered perspective.

Biancolli's Role as Intermediary

Biancolli does not present himself as an original analyst but as a compiler and interpreter of Prokofieff's own statements and contemporary criticism. The excerpts show him quoting the composer at length, including a description of the Fifth Concerto's structure: 'The piano always has the leading part which is closely interwoven with significant music in the orchestra.' He also includes Nestyev's hostile Soviet reading, which condemns the 'machine-like Toccata' as 'athletic' and 'acrobatic.' This editorial choice gives the book a documentary quality, allowing readers to compare Prokofieff's self-image with external reception. The dedication to 'Radio Members of the Philharmonic-Symphony Society of New York' suggests an audience of concertgoers seeking program-note-level insight, not specialists. Biancolli's prose is clear and unobtrusive, letting the composer's voice dominate.

Readers should approach this book as a curated collection of primary sources—Prokofieff's own classifications, interviews, and contemporary reviews—rather than a comprehensive biography. Biancolli's framework of the four creative lines provides a useful entry point, but the excerpts are incomplete; the full text likely covers more works and includes additional critical voices. The book's value lies in its preservation of Prokofieff's own analytical language, which offers a rare glimpse into how the composer understood his own music.

There’s something touching in how Biancolli preserves Prokofieff’s own quiet pride in his “five lines” of composition, as if the music itself were a personal diary. It reminds me of an old companion on my shelf, Shakespeare and Music — Edition Insights, which lingers on similar private connections between a maker and their craft. Strange, how these scholarly guides become like letters from another era.