After a hurried dinner I dashed to the 'Contemporaries' concert, in fact such was my haste that I left my folder containing Narcissus, my Concerto and the Scriabin sonata that I meant to give to Zakharov in the cab. But I need not have been in such a rush: the concert started not at eight but at half past nine, and there was as yet no one in the hall. So I went into the Great Hall to hear Korsakov's Triglav, mainly to listen to the orchestration, which indeed sounded marvellous.