Jos Janssen rightly quoted the (2nd) violin concerto among the works by Prokofiev which have some Soviet characteristics. Although I feel that they do slightly lessen the interest of the piece, it remains a landmark in 20th-century music and certainly cannot be accused of being an ideological, or even political work. On the other hand, and although some people pretend that politics (and Soviet diktats in particular) had no influence whatsoever on musical creation itself, it seems hard to deny the fact that the Jdanov (Zhdanov) report was followed by a dark period in Eastern European music, extending from 1948 to 1956, with a dramatic fall in overall quality. In February 1948, a massive attack was launched against virtually all the talented composers of the (former) USSR, namely A.Khachaturian, Myaskovsky, G.Popov, Prokofiev, Shebalin, Shostakovich, while Kabalevsky managed to have his name withdrawn from the black list within two days. The problem was that not only composers found themselves isolated from contemporary currents and stylistic freedom, they were also cut off from their own personal training and roots. Lots of symphonies were composed during those years, and they include an astounding proportion of uninspired, grossly written pages. Unfortunately, many of the most inventive and original works which appeared in the 1920s and 1930s in Central Europe seem to be unavailable on record as yet, but it seems that their authors were favourite targets for censorship around 1950 and committed themselves to producing propagandist works or, in better cases, concert works using unchallenging, highly-simplified idioms. Jan Adam Maklakiewicz, whose 2nd Symphony (Swiety Boze, 1928) was considered one of the strongest Polish works of its time alongside with Szymanowski's, only "survives" by LP recordings of his post-war mass songs. Similar situations could be found in virtually all former socialist countries at that time. The fact that Shostakovich completed some of his most personal works then, such as his 10th symphony (1953) or his 1st violin concerto (1948), is a kind of eyewash, since those were ill-received by authorities and little performed at first. Likewise, Lyatoshynsky's 3rd symphony was rejected several times until the Ukrainian composer ended up in a celebratory, almost bombastic finale, fortunately still filled with sincere emotion. All this is rather well-known, and was commonly acknowledged by Eastern European musicologists as soon as the 1970s (read notices about Hungarian composers such as Kadosa, for instance). Yet, a few valuable, even remarkable works appeared during that period. Nearly all of them belong to what we call too hastily neoclassical music. Maybe it would be more accurate to speak of classical-tempered musicians, keen on traditional craftsmanship. I am thinking for instance of Grazyna Bacewicz, mentioned by other listers lately, whose 1948 Concerto for orchestra and 1949 4th sonata for violin and piano belong to her best inspirations (both can be heard on an Olympia CD, OCD 392). Michal Spisak's Sinfonia concertante no. 2 (1956) is a successful piece as well, close to Stravinsky's "neoclassical" style. Such composers were not radically incompatible with the principles of socialist art, although they sometimes suffered from the times as individuals (e.g. Laszlo Lajtha), and I think that similar reasons might explain why the earlier return of Prokofiev to the USSR did not account for drastic change in his work and style. Stjepan Sulek's Classical Concerto No. 2 (1952) is a real gem of that period. Sulek's example is interesting. He was a thoroughly classical composer, whose music remained close to Bruckner's, but also J.S.Bach, Tchaikovsky, even R.Strauss, without losing a highly personal tone and spirit throughout his career. His ambition was to raise compositional and performing standards in Croatia from what he considered a "provincial" level up to international requirements, and his deep belief in classical forms led him to to so through symphonies, sonatas and concertos (another major achievement, his 1951 2nd piano concerto, can be found on a CD available throught he Croatian Composers' Union). In doing so, he seems to have found himself at odds with official instructions, since he stubbornly opposed any attempt to oversimplify compositional techniques, and besides, he was most reluctant about using folk-music. (Let us recall that many accomplished Soviet composers were sent to Siberia or Central Asia to develop "Western" music there, and prove that reaist-socialist art was able to unite all national particularities within a common ideology.) Nevertheless, he was not an ideal instance of a "decadent" composer, and managed to hold a firm academic position. It is fair to add that Zagreb was not the worst place for modern music, and its Biennale was created in... 1956, the same year as the Warsaw Autumn Festival. In another category (albeit not totally distinct) of composers who managed to avoid heavy compromise, we can find people with a basically optimistic or, at least, serenely humanistic philosophy and unimpaired belief in life. Blaz Arnic is a good instance of this. For some, such an attitude had been strengthened by wartime ordeals. Marjan Kozina wrote a beautiful, broad symphony between 1946 and 1951 (CD RTV Slovenija DD-0215), made up from four tone pictures -- a war episode of which he was a part, a memorial for fallen soldiers, a wonderful depiction of spring in southern Slovenia and an hymn to the sea. This looks like the perfect celebratory work, but it nevertheless conveys a profoundly personal experience, and anyway Kozina was quite clear in dismissing "billboard realist socialism". Bruno Bjelinski, sometimes called the "Croatian Prokofiev" for his brilliant concertos (e.g. the 1956 Piano Concertino), used a children's chorus in his later 5th symphony ("za Thaliju", 1969). Its idiom is agreeable, basically tonal, melodic and concise, the work is a plea for peace, but it significantly chooses the Latin "Dona nobis pacem" rather than some ad hoc conventional text. He also firmly avoids bombastic conclusions. As such, it remains an intensely lively work, and also a moving one. Another memorable work from that period is Jan Hanus's 2nd symphony (1948), which Ancerl admirers know well. A radiant fresco it is, and a worthy heir of the Smetana and Dvorak tradition, but its source is St.Francis, not the "best of all worlds, free of all concern" depicted by Khrennikov (IIRC) in a speech. Oddly enough, many of those tolerated, but not-so-welcome masterworks were not made widely accessible by recordings. When I posted my recent message about N.Danilovic ("Re: Female composers"), I thought that those were happy times, when 18th-century musicians and music-lovers could subscribe for the edition and performance of works which they had never heard -- and I regretted that we could not seem to commit ourselves for equivalent projects of recordings and concerts in our Internet era. Well, "Horror vacui" definitely would deserve such a move, but several older pieces from Central and Eastern Europe would be worthy candidates as well, especially in the teeming 1920s and '30s, but also among those composers who strove to maintain the dignity of art in the dark 1948-56 years. Sorry for the lenghty message, Best wishes, Thanh-Tam Le