Later in the day I was going to Pavlovsk, and while initially I was reluctant to make the journey alone, I reflected that it was after all not very far ti Pavlovsk and I would find plenty of people I knew there. The conductor today was Glazunov, and when I went to see him in the artists' room he courteously invited me to take a seat. I asked him if I might show him my Concerto, and on learning that I had booked to travel abroad the day after tomorrow, he gave me an appointment for tomorrow in the Conservatoire. I thanked him and went into the auditorium to listen to the concert. Glazunov was conducting his Sixth Symphony. I know this work well and on this occasion listened to the first movement with enjoyment. The second and third movements are uninteresting, but the finale is really good. But if I were to write a symphony, I would not want to construct it brick by brick, as Glazunov does with the patience of a bricklayer stolidly building a substantial wall . . . my symphony would be a savage whirlwind, a vast, elemental succession of hammer blows of fate!

Interval. I saw Aslanov and we decided that Dreams will be performed on 2 August, in the same programme as the Concerto, and that the conductor of Dreams would be myself. After seeing him I met Umnenkaya's brother and then the Scheintsvit family, in whose company I heard Glazunov's Dance of Salome.