My first concert was at ten o'clock that evening (life is generally two hours later here); it was a short concert, because the first two parts were given over to the cellist Alexanian. In the third section, which was mine, I played six of the Pictures from an Exhibition and my Third Sonata. The audience was noisy and coughed continually, and were more inclined to applaud lyrical playing than virtuosity. They were polite about Pictures, but responded very warmly to the Sonata. The piano was stiff and dull, and I quite often had to force the sound.