After this class we went to the general rehearsal of Elektra at the Mariinsky Theatre. The Conservatoire had three boxes allocated, one for the opera class, one for the Theory students and one for the conductors. I had been put in charge and so had to act the mother hen with her chicks, settling them all in their seats in the boxes and chasing out intruders. When I had done that I took the box ticket and went down into the stalls, where I thought I might find Umnenkaya [Lidia Umnova] and where there are always interesting people to be seen. I did indeed find Umnenkaya quite soon, but she was sitting so far along the gangway, engaged moreover in conversation with someone, that I simply went up, shook her hand in greeting and went on my way. I wanted to catch Wahrlich, but he was dancing attendance on acquaintance after acquaintance with such a business-like air that I felt I could not interrupt. Aslanov was friendly, asked me to come and see him (he lives near me) and wanted to know if I had any works suitable for children. Then we settled down to listen to Richard's work. What interested me was his concept of scenography, by which I mean the representation of the action and the text in the music.

There were places where I experienced the keenest satisfaction, although I did find it strange that the inner workings of the mind of a small woman lost in the remote vastness of a gigantic stage should generate such an explosion of noise from the brass and the bass drum that the rood seemed about to cave in. True, I do not know the story very well, and am therefore not so moved by the developing passions of the characters. As for the music itself, some moments are highly dramatic and powerful but some are of the greatest vulgarity, there is a superfluity of note-spinning, a total absence of any vestige of form, and the piece is inconceivably long. Generally, the music is curious but not genuine, as fake gold does not ring true.