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Prokofiev’s Eight Piano Sonata
A personal narration of a unique gem of the 20th century


Part one: 
"Introduction"

Prokofiev’ sixth, seventh and eighth piano sonatas are at present extensively treated as a whole unit under the denomination of "War Sonatas", and each of them has gained within the last eighty years a reputation of ‘jewel’ not only with regard to the last century, but also to the entire piano repertoire. With no doubt, these compositions constitute a new explosion of creativity by an incredibly gifted composer and strongly refute the idea for which the genre of the piano sonata could not produce interesting innovations any more.

Around the year 1939, Mr Sergei was committed to undertaking a cultural crusade for the reaffirmation of Russia's identity. This Soviet cultural renaissance was nourished by the writing of new works of massive scope and importance like “Zravidza”, “Semyon Kotko" and “War and Piece”.

 

While this activity was occupying an extraordinary amount of time, how striking is to see this outburst of creativity in a genre as the piano sonata, like an urgent need to communicate something particularly meaningful and dear to him. Prokofiev was well aware that exceptional times necessitate exceptional music and in 1939, about sixteen years after completing his fifth piano sonata, ideas and sketches of the Opus 82, 83 and 84 began to appear in his notebooks.

The sixth and seventh sonatas

 

As much as the sixth, seventh and eighth sonatas seem to represent different faces of a unified reality, it is the very last one which always seems to struck for its inaccessibility. From the very first notes of both Op.82 and 83, the listener is presented with such a strong character or scenario that with its disturbing and unsettling peculiarities grabs our attention with incredible force. Possibly resembling the atmosphere of the world during those years, the brutal march in the first bars of the sixth sonata generates a merciless succession of chords that sets the tone for the entire piece. By means of its sharp and compact pianistic texture, the whole composition exude a constant feeling of terror, present and real, a nightmare happening in front of our eyes from which we cannot escape.

On the other hand, the seventh sonata seems to opt for a more introspective representation, as the reference “Allegro inquieto” of the first page of the score suggests. The heterogeneity of the lines and the unpredictable paradigm with which musical shocks and sections of opposite character follow one another, perfectly represent the fear, hope, disillusion and destruction of the events from a much more psychological perspective. Even the bells appearing at the very end of the second movement, instead of elevating us to share our suffering and despair with the whole of humanity, they just tear us down into the darkest caves of unconsciousness, depriving us even of our own consolation.

The Eighth

 

With the emotional content of a symphony and by far the longest of the piano sonatas, the eighth consists of three movements. Having completed it in the summer of 1944, Prokofiev dedicated it to his second wife, Mira Mendelson, a vital figure who accompanied him during his later years. From a closer look, this composition seems to transcend both the dimension of research in sound characteristics and the modern cinematic way of assembling musical material which always makes Prokofiev’s style so recognisable and unique. Its narrative process, to be analysed in the following chapters, develops in a novel-like structure comprising elements and the emotional content of a much broader spectrum than its predecessors, embracing the faith of all humankind on par with works of Beauty such as “Pictures at an Exhibition”, the “Brothers Karamazov” or “War and Peace”.

In search of a clue

 

Prokofiev did not leave us any particular mention or reference with regard to the composition except for the dedication to his wife. Neither his letters nor writings can help us in the understanding of its content. In fact, it is this very coincidence which could lead us to some ventured hypothesis. Similarly how we often find ourselves keeping our most precious and dearest things away from indiscreet looks, the eighth piano sonata could be a personal homage to the suffering world of those years. Not a chart-toppin novel exposed at the centre of the library, but more like an inestimable poem careless of the flashlights, awaiting in the bookshelf for someone willing to discover again all its immensity.

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