Went to hear Stravinsky rehearsing his Concerto, playing with orchestra for the first time in his life. He was extremely nervous, made mistakes, had memory lapses and buried his nose in the score, which he had put up on the desk in front of him. The Concerto itself is a fusion of two influences: Bach and American ragtime. The first influence I disapprove of; the second I approve, very much! He has served up music à la Bach before, in the finale of the Octet, and I took an instant dislike to it then as being so obviously fake (I have nothing against Bach's music, only against counterfeiting it). As the mainspring of its vitality the Concerto does boast a certain sturdy severity, deriving in part from the lack of strings in the orchestration. Up to a point I liked this ascetism, but only up to a point as I found myself missing the mezzo-tints and softenings that come with the strings. Here and there the brass was simply crude, blaring so as to drown the piano.