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name withdrawn from the black list within two days.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