Saint-Saëns' Cello Concerto

Composed by Sergei Prokofiev (1891–1953)

15 minutes


Sergei Prokofiev wrote his Symphony No 1 in 1916–17, imagining how Joseph Haydn might have composed in the twentieth century. He kept the four-movement plan and small orchestra of a Classical symphony, but allowed its melodies and harmonies to stray beyond what Haydn’s audiences would have expected.

The first movement opens with a burst from the full orchestra. Wide melodic leaps and abrupt changes of key interrupt its otherwise orderly progress. In the slower Larghetto, a melody high in the violins unfolds over a gently pulsing accompaniment.

The third movement replaces the customary minuet with a gavotte, a French dance that became popular at court. Its broad leaps and clipped phrases give it a slightly ungainly character. Prokofiev later reused the music in his ballet Romeo and Juliet. The finale, marked Molto vivace, moves at speed, with busy string writing and quick exchanges across the orchestra.

Lasting around fifteen minutes, the symphony leaves little room for lingering. Prokofiev chose the title ‘Classical’ partly out of mischief, hoping that the work would eventually become a classic. His affection for Haydn goes beyond the outline of the movements: both composers enjoyed setting up an expectation and then confounding it. That shared sense of humour helps make this experiment in an older style sound so natural.

Composed by Camille Saint-Saens (1835–1921)

19 minutes


Camille Saint-Saëns wrote his Cello Concerto No 1 in 1872 for the cellist Auguste Tolbecque, who gave the first performance in Paris the following year. The soloist has a strong, dramatic role from the outset, exploring the cello’s full range, from powerful low notes to bright, singing high passages.

Unlike many concertos, this work does not pause between movements. Its three sections flow continuously, with the opening theme returning later to help connect them. There is no long orchestral introduction: after a single chord, the cello enters with a sweeping phrase. The orchestra takes up this idea, and exchanges between the soloist and ensemble carry the music forward.

The central section is lighter and more graceful. Muted strings introduce a minuet, recalling the measured steps of a courtly dance. When the cello joins them, it adds a flowing melody above the orchestral theme. The quieter sound offers a pause in the drama, though the dance rhythm keeps the music moving.

In the final section, earlier ideas return alongside new material. The cello takes on increasingly demanding writing, moving through rapid passages, wide leaps and melodies deep in its lower register. The opening theme makes another appearance before the concerto’s brisk conclusion.

Saint-Saëns’s care with orchestral balance allows the cello to be heard across its range. The solo part asks for considerable agility, but there is also space for sustained, expressive playing. Much of the concerto’s appeal lies in these changes of character, from the urgency of the opening to the restraint of the minuet. It remains one of the best-loved works in the cello repertoire.

Composed by Takashi Yoshimatsu (b.1953)

8 minutes


Japanese composer Takashi Yoshimatsu often draws inspiration from birds, nature and the open sky. Completed in 1998, And Birds Are Still…, Op. 72 is a short, single-movement work for string orchestra. Yoshimatsu described it as an elegy, inspired by the image of birds gathered around a dead companion.

The music begins softly, with high, delicate sounds that seem to hover in the air. Gentle melodies rise and fall across the strings, creating a feeling of space and stillness. At times, individual instruments appear to call to one another, like distant birds heard across a landscape.

As the work develops, the music becomes warmer and more expressive. Long, singing lines are supported by rich harmonies, while small changes in rhythm and texture keep the music moving. There is sadness in the piece, but it is not without hope. The more intense passages gradually give way to quieter music.

Yoshimatsu’s music combines accessible melodies with influences from classical music, jazz, rock and the natural world. In this piece, however, the mood remains intimate and restrained. It was originally intended for an amateur ensemble, but the commission was cancelled and the music remained.

And Birds Are Still… gradually returns to the broken phrases of its opening. Yoshimatsu described the fuller melody as a melancholy recollection of the distant past. As that melody breaks into fragments again, the music grows quieter and finally fades away.

Composed by Francois Poulenc (1899–1963)

29 minutes


Francis Poulenc wrote his Sinfonietta in 1947–48 following a commission from the BBC to mark the first anniversary of its Third Programme, the predecessor of BBC Radio 3. The work took longer than expected and was first performed in London in October 1948. Its title means “little symphony”, although the music grew well beyond the modest dimensions originally planned.

The first movement begins with energy and confidence. Bold orchestral passages are balanced by lighter, more lyrical melodies. Poulenc moves quickly between moods, giving the music a playful and unpredictable quality.

The second movement is fast and spirited, with the character of a scherzo. Its lively rhythms and sudden changes keep the orchestra busy. The third movement offers the main contrast. Marked Andante cantabile, or “at a walking pace, in a singing style”, it features warm, flowing melodies and a more reflective mood.

The finale is extremely fast and cheerful. Bright themes pass rapidly through the orchestra, building towards an energetic conclusion. Throughout the work, Poulenc combines clear Classical forms with the colour, wit and elegance of twentieth-century French music.

Poulenc was known for music that could be humorous one moment and deeply expressive the next. Both sides can be heard in the Sinfonietta. Some of its themes came from a string quartet he had discarded. His friend Georges Auric encouraged him to keep the best ideas, and Poulenc dedicated the Sinfonietta to him.

The work gives ample room to both Poulenc’s humour and his lyrical writing. The quieter passages allow its melodies to unfold before another abrupt change of mood sends the music in a new direction.