Sergei Prokofiev
(1891–1953)
Romeo and Juliet: Highlights
Lawrence Renes has selected movements from Prokofiev’s concert suites and the original ballet to create a narrative suite in three broad sections.
Act I
Romeo at the Fountain –
Scene (The Street Awakens) –
Morning Dance –
Juliet as a Young Girl –
Montagues and Capulets
Act II
Masks –
Romeo and Juliet (Balcony Scene) –
Friar Laurence –
Death of Tybalt
Acts III & IV
Romeo and Juliet Before Parting –
Juliet’s Funeral –
Juliet’s Death
As a music lover, what first comes to mind when you think of Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet? Most likely – if radio playlists and concert programs are any guide – it will be the fierce movement that begins the second and most popular of the concert suites: Montagues and Capulets. But if you know this music from the theatre – if you’re a ballet fan – you’ll know the curtain rises to the quiet strains of a doomed love motif.
Lawrence Renes does neither. He sets out with whimsical music from the ballet’s introduction (Romeo at the Fountain) but omits the love theme ‘spoiler’, allowing the musical tale to unfold without foreshadowing. He’s assembled movements from Prokofiev’s three concert suites in narrative order to create a miniature ballet in three acts, and in an unusual but beautiful choice, turns to the final, anguished scenes of the ballet score itself for the conclusion.
The result captures the essence of the greatest of 20th-century ballets. As its first choreographer, Leonid Lavrovsky, observed, Prokofiev ‘carried on where Tchaikovsky left off’ – developing symphonic principles in ballet music. Lavrovsky also described Prokofiev as: ‘one of the first Soviet composers to bring to the ballet stage genuine human emotions and full-blooded characters. The boldness of his musical treatment, the clear-cut characterisations, the diversity and intricacy of his rhythms, the unorthodoxy of his harmonies … serve to create the dramatic development of the performance.’
Boldness. Clarity. Characterisation. Colour. Heartfelt drama. And a dash of the unexpected, not to mention Prokofiev’s wonderful, quirky melodies. Another ingredient in the ballet’s success is the deft use of motto themes to develop character and shape a cohesive musical narrative. Normally, this feature is lost in the concert suites, which Prokofiev assembled with little regard to the drama, but it re-emerges in this selection.
The genesis of the ballet was a drama in its own right – the course of theatrical success ‘never did run smooth’ – and the suites played their part. Like Tchaikovsky before him, Prokofiev’s music had been dismissed as ‘impossible to dance to’, and by 1936, both the Kirov (Mariinsky) and Bolshoi theatres had backed out. Instead, Prokofiev developed several concert suites (two for orchestra, one for piano), which were favourably received.
The opportunity to give the stage premiere was seized by Ivo Vana-Psota of the Brno Ballet in then Czechoslovakia, and on 30 December 1938, a performance using the first two orchestral suites was presented to acclaim. (The third orchestral suite followed in 1945.)
These suites were no mere hackwork. While some movements are taken more or less verbatim from the original version of the ballet score (the intrepid gate-crashing of Masks and the meditative Friar Laurence), several are cleverly reworked combinations of different numbers. In Montagues and Capulets, for example, the shrieking dissonance of the Prince of Verona’s decree against duelling introduces the aggressive posturing of the Dance of the Knights from the Capulets’ ball with its stamping bass line and the jerky, wide-ranging melody. There’s savagery lurking under the surface; quiet menace in the sound of a saxophone.
The Death of Tybalt – an impetuous study in orchestral virtuosity – conflates the music of two duels. The movement’s conclusion is especially striking: an implacable funeral ‘march’ in three-four time. And Romeo and Juliet Before Parting combines five different sections from Act III, including an intensely felt interlude from much later in the act, when Juliet is alone after her refusal to marry Paris. Listen for the tender viola solo.
By contrast, Juliet as a Young Girl is a self-contained character portrait. Prokofiev gives Juliet three distinct motifs: a vibrant scherzo, playful and spontaneous, that punctuates the movement; then a graceful theme introduced by the clarinet, harmonically richer and more poised but still simple. Finally, there’s a poignant, yearning motif, played at first by the flute but never quite developed into a complete melody. Instead, it gives way to other voices (cello, clarinet, saxophone…) in waves of conflicting emotions. This theme will reach its fruition in Juliet’s Death, when Prokofiev finally unleashes its melodic and harmonic potential.
The suites are illuminating in another way. By the time Romeo and Juliet came home to the Kirov in 1940, with ‘great pomp and our best dancers’, the ballet score had become the victim of ‘meddling’ (Prokofiev’s word). Lavrovsky’s unauthorised changes included thicker orchestrations, emphasising brass and percussion, to create the ‘monumental’ sound that appealed to the Soviet aesthetic, and Prokofiev had been obliged to add conventional solos for the principal characters. (For example, in the final ballet, but not the earlier suite, the Act II balcony scene includes a solo for Romeo.)
The suites preserve the translucency of Prokofiev’s original sound world, but this quality was never lost from the ballet’s final scenes. Juliet’s Funeral is introduced by the unsettling sound of high violin tremolos. The music is sombre yet marked by extreme emotion; when the brass take over, the music becomes edgier. Eventually melody is abandoned to anguished strings and discordant fragments... a return of the great love theme from the Balcony Scene... and all subsides. The waves of emotion hinted at in Juliet as a Young Girl well up in heart-breaking chords and sublimely poised melody. And the ‘curtain’ falls on icy violins poised above the lowest of the orchestral instruments.
Yvonne Frindle © 2026