Sergei Prokofiev’s last years were anything but happy. Barely 60 years old, his health had already begun to decline. He suffered from a number of physical ailments, but the psychological consequences of a 1948 Communist Party hearing were equally serious. Prokofiev was devastated by that attack, which had branded his music as “formalistic.” He was still officially acknowledged as the Soviet Union’s greatest composer, but most of his works — some of which he thought quite highly of — could not be performed. For instance, he was never to see a staging of his massive opera War and Peace, which he worked on for the last 12 years of his life. 

Prokofiev was sustained during these difficult years by one thing alone: his work. To the end of his life, he composed as prolifically as he had always done. He completed his Piano Sonata No. 9 in 1947, a sonata for cello and piano in 1949, and numerous pieces on official commission. He also revised some of his earlier works, such as the Fourth Symphony and the Cello Concerto (which became the Symphony-Concerto), generally considered the greatest work of Prokofiev’s final period. 

The Seventh Symphony was commissioned by the Soviet Children’s Radio Division, whose task was to create musical programs for young people. Prokofiev wanted to write something light and simple for this occasion, but this wasn’t going to be another Peter and the Wolf. The humor and immediacy of a children’s story were replaced by a nostalgic view of youth from the perspective of old age. Prokofiev wanted to avoid complications in his harmonic language so that he could be easily understood, even by children (inaccessibility was one of the charges leveled at him in 1948). As a result, the work is akin to a second-summer day; the sun, no longer scorching as in August, is mild and gentle, evoking feelings of warmth and serenity. The Seventh Symphony was to be the last major work Prokofiev completed, and its first performance also marked his last public appearance. 

The symphony begins with an expressive melody that Prokofiev develops by adding some fast-moving countersubjects in sixteenth notes. A silky second theme follows, a broad legato melody in the Tchaikovsky or Rachmaninoff tradition, which had been quite alien to Prokofiev’s earlier style. A sprightly third idea is introduced by staccato woodwinds and glockenspiel, which is more in character with the old Prokofiev. These three ideas provide the basis for a largely lyrical and contemplative movement. 

The second movement is a scherzo with many waltz elements. It begins with a leisurely Allegretto that gradually escalates into a faster Allegro as the excitement builds. The trio, by contrast, is more laid back. Its expressive melody is played by muted violins and then by oboe. The scherzo-waltz returns, accompanied by a new variation in which the theme is reinforced by the brass. After a varied repeat of the trio, the waltz returns and develops into a frantic closing section. 

The third movement, Andante espressivo, is again based on two contrasting ideas. The first is of a legato character, emphasizing long melodic phrases (Prokofiev’s biographer, Israel Nestyev, was reminded here of Friar Laurence’s music from the composer’s ballet Romeo and Juliet). The second is staccato and uses rhythm as its primary propelling force. The two ideas are combined, and the legato melody returns, played by flute and accompanied by piano and harp. A quiet brass chord closes the movement. 

The finale is full of Prokofiev’s typical humor, recalling the upbeat days of Lieutenant Kijé (1934). But the fun and frolic are soon interrupted, as the broad romantic theme from the first movement returns, followed by the staccato theme from the same movement. The music takes a more serious turn at this point; the tempo slows, and the brass play loud notes that threaten to destroy the cheerful atmosphere that has prevailed so far. 

The symphony’s original ending was soft and wistful, but Nestyev recalls that during rehearsals, Prokofiev was persuaded to write an alternative ending that brings back the playful first theme, ending the symphony on a loud, boisterous note. However, the composer always preferred his first ending, and it is that one we hear in these performances. 

— Peter Laki 

Peter Laki is a musicologist and frequent lecturer on classical music. He is a visiting associate professor of music at Bard College.