My first concert, although it was sold out and there was not a box or seat to be had three days beforehand, did not make on the general public the impression I thought it would. The first Allegro of my concerto, which relatively few could grasp, called forth applause, but it seems to me that people felt they had to show interest ("Ah, something new!") and pretend to be connoisseurs. The Adagio and Rondo produced the greatest effect and exclamations of sincere admiration could be heard. But the Pot-pourri on Polish Airs [published as Op. 13] did not in my opinion fully achieve its aim. They applauded because they felt they must show at the end that they had not been bored. Kurpinski discovered fresh beauties in my concerto that evening, but Wiman admitted again that he doesn't know what people see in my first Allegro. Ernemann was completely satisfied, but Eisner regretted that the tone of my piano was too woolly and prevented the runs in the bass from being heard. That evening everybody up in the gallery and those standing at the side of the orchestra were satisfied, but the audience in the stalls complained about my playing too quietly and I would like to have been at "Cinderella's" [a Warsaw cafe] to hear the arguments that must have raged about me. This is why Monacki, in the Polish Courier, after praising me to the skies, particularly for the Adagio, ends by advising me to show more energy. << less