At last the concert began. I went to the podium not from the forestage but through the orchestra, threading my way around the stands. However, my progress was spotted from the balcony, and was greeted by applause. I ascended the podium, bowed, then asked Vassily to re-seat the clarinets. This took some time, and then I began. The opening chords sounded marvellous, and after that all went smoothly, better than yesterday. I felt myself to be fully in control although, naturally, not everything was as perfect as I would have wished. But to achieve refined nuances in a performance by a student orchestra is a virtually impossible task. By the Finale I was getting tired, and drops of sweat rained down from my brow on to the score. The audience applauded each movement, and I was called back to take another bow at the end. Glazunov said I had made huge strides; Tcherepnin praised the performance and was heard to say to someone, 'A fine display of carving by our little Seryozha!'

During the interval I talked to Myaskovsky, who as usual found a whole cluster of imperfections and left me in no doubt that I was no conductor, even though he acknowledged an improvement over last year.