Prokofiev - Symphony nr. 6

Today Prokofiev's biggest symphony was on the menu. His Sixth (op. 111, from 1947) is a work that has been inexplicably neglected. It's a grand work that, for Prokofiev, sounds uncommonly confessional. With the Eighth Sonata it represents the composer at the very peak of his capabilities. For me it belongs to the category of Shostakovich's Fourth and Schnittke's Fifth: tough, tragic and abrasive works conceived on the grand scale (Shosta's Tenth is a case apart, IMHO one of the very best symphonies ever written). The Sixth is extraordinary: 3 massive, tightly knit movements in the weird key of E flat minor, a combination of marvelous songfulness and anguished chromaticism (those Parsifal references!), the extreme contrasts in orchestration (soaring violins and trumpets battling growling percussion and brooding, low brass). The effect is one of overpowering monumentality and doom. The finale is jaunty as Shostakovich's finales are jaunty ("your business is rejoicing, your business is rejoicing"). However apolitial and egocentric Prokofiev might have been, he must have been psychologically affected by the Stalinist Terror of the Thirties and the carnage of the war. This was, after all, suffering on a scale unseen. I scarcely can believe that Prokofiev's sullen mood was inspired by only his health problems (he suffered a concussion during a fall in 1945 as a result of persistent high blood pressure). One never knows. Shostakovich thought Prokofiev had 'the soul of a goose', meaning that he always wanted to make sure he was favoured by the establishment.

Anyway, I have always cherished the Järvi recording of this work (on Chandos). In line with his readings of the other symphonies, it is a volatile and strident reading with the SNO pushed to the limit. Tonight I listened to the more recent Kitajenko version, part of his complete cycle with the Gürzenich Orchestra. It's a live recording (Kölner Philharmonie) dating from 2007. Predictably, Kitajenko is significantly slower than Järvi (all in all he takes 4 minutes longer). But, as in the Fourth, the tempo is well judged and he manages to keep the pulse. Also the Gürzenich produces a much richer, luxuriant sound that shows off the impressionistic splendour of Prokofiev's pallette (I was reminded of Liadov's Enchanted Lake, something I haven't heard for thirty years). The recording is demonstration quality, with fantastic microdetail across the whole spectrum and impressive depth. The climaxes are shattering without, however, being aggressive as with the Chandos recording.

Compared to Järvi, the character of the music changes. As it has more opportunity to breathe, the melos and richness of orchestration are more in evidence. As a result the overall impression of doom is a little less overpowering. But Kitajenko presents a splendid edifice in glowing colours. Upbeat or victorious it certainly does not sound. I wouldn't like to miss the Järvi but the Kitajenko is a very valuable addition to the collection to which I will eagerly return.