Prokofiev’s “Classical Symphony” looks both backwards and forwards; backwards to the classical model of Haydnesque orchestration and form, and forward to a new musical genre: neo-classicism.  The Classical model places great importance on proper courtly manners, symetrical and logically layed-out proportions, and clear contrasts.  Classical symphonies are also differentied with their smaller orchestrations and shorter durations when compared with their Romantic counterparts.  As the 19^th century drew on, the symphony grew larger, longer, more harmonically complex, and more laden with historical pressure, culminating in the 60-80 minute symphonies of Gustav Mahler.  But as the century turned, this explosion reached its limits and died down.  A new ideology took hold—longing for the refreshing simplicity of a bygone era—touted by people who were sick of Romantic bombast and over-the-top emotionalism.  This conscious (and therefore somewhat ironic) return to “innocence” can be seen in painting, architecture, and in music in pieces such as Ravel’s Tombeau de Couperin (1918), Stravinsky’s Pulcinella (1919) and of course, Prokofiev’s First Symphony, the Classical Symphony (1917).

      Another irony lies in the contemporary historical circumstances during which the symphony was composed; 1917 was also the year of the Bolshevik Revolution. Prokofiev came from a well-to-do family and was threatened by the communist uprising.  He fled St. Petersburg, hid in the Caucaus Mountains, and had one of his most productive years of composition. (He also composed his first violin concert, two piano concertos, a set of pieces called Fugitive Visions, and a cantata.)  While the revolutionaries were looking forward to radical changes, Prokofiev, in what might have been a sly political statement, was lookng backwards to the 18^th century.

      “Were Haydn still alive,” Prokofiev asserted, “he'd compose basically the same way, with a few amendments to his style”  These “few amendments” make a world of difference to an experienced listener.  While even the most well-versed musicians might confuse the music of Haydn with Mozart’s, nobody should confuse Haydn with Prokofiev, even in his self-titled Classical Symphony.  Prokofiev exaggereates the thematic contrasts and courtly demeanour to the point of absurdity.  Like much of Haydn, it is humorous, but not in the same clever way.  Prokofiev uses harmonic progressions that would be highly unlikely in the 18^th century, and the technical instrumental difficulty level (intentional or not) would also never be found in a Haydn symphony.  Prokofiev was probably aware that his symphony would never pass for Haydn.  The “neo-” in “neoclassicsm” comes through a lot in this symphony, which gives it a unique sound.  It is likely that even if Prokofiev tried his best to sound like Haydn, he was too genuine of an artist to completely shed his own personal style.  And at 26 years of age, he probably still lacked the compositional techinique to sound like Haydn.  All that being said, the symphony is still enjoyable without knowing any of this facsinating history—it is full of charm, passion, virtuosity, and energy.