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Project 1917 is a series of events that took place a hundred years ago as described by those involved. It is composed only of diaries, letters, memoirs, newspapers and other documents

The papers have shocked me: they paint things not at all as they did before. Bolshevik victories everywhere, not a word about Kerensky, and Moscow in the crossfire of rifles and handguns. See more

My concert took place yesterday. For the first time, I publicly played the 3rd Sonata and the “Transience”. Of course, the premiere should have been given in Petrograd, and not Kislovodsk, but I look at this performance as a rehearsal before the concert in the capital. See more

I had a fascinating walk with the most charming General Ruzsky, a man whom I admire not only as the most remarkable Russian commander of this war but also as a general who saved it. See more

My life ran as follows: I got up at half-past seven because the children next door started crying. However, I had nothing against getting up at such an early hour. I did Miller's gymnastics followed by cold showers until they began to affect my sleep. Then I started doing gymnastics every day, only took cold showers every other day. See more

I have been really busy with packing. Mom sent me a list of instructions—bring such and such, do such and such—of no fewer than fifty seven items. See more

My longstanding urge to try gymnastics has congealed into a decision to exercise regularly using the Miller system, which I have begun to study and apply in practice. I have taken to pouring cold water from my head to my toes carefully before an open window although it is hellish cold and there are frosts in the morning. See more

For me, the most important event of September was the composition “Seven, They Are Seven”. It’s something which I’d thought about a lot, something I’d been working towards for along time, and when I finally got down to it, I knew early that something exceptional would be born. On 17th September I finally got to work. I still didn’t write a thing. I didn’t record any music, but some general outlines, occasionally one voice part; I didn’t write notes, but I drew up some general sketches and orchestrations. I enjoyed myself to such an extent that as a reached the climax of my work I had to stop working and go for a walk to calm myself down, otherwise my heart would have burst out of my chest. I didn’t spend long working on “Seven, They Are Seven”, no more than half an hour or an hour per day, and not every day. I thought a great deal. My sketches were completed on 28th September, that’s to say 12 days, of which I only worked 7, and I didn’t writeon the other 5.

Imperceptibly August changed into September. And it was so cozy that I did not want to go anywhere from Zet. It rained at night, but the days were sunny. From the first day of the month, leaves began to gradually turn yellow, red and orange, while others remained fresh, green, contrasting with the sometimes bright red leaves and maple trees, which were bright yellow from top to bottom, thus creating a striking motley and magnificent outfit. See more

Horrible news. Riga is captured by Germans. A plated fist is looming over Petrograd. It's still far away, but we don't know if the revolutionary army is strong enough, and no one knows what would it look like when three million people start fleeing Petrograd.

You’re all asking me how I’m doing and where have I gone. In the night our belated train brought me to Petrograd. Well, it’s nice, although quite wet and dirty. The first face that I saw was Eleanor. See more

It is stuffy and dusty in Petrograd. I lived in a completely empty and dusty apartment, and was fed poorly and expensively at restaurants (lunch - eighteen roubles instead of four).

In the morning, I’ve heard on the phone, that it was quiet on the Nevsky: Bolsheviks, having demonstrated into the night, were resting. I decided to use their moment of rest and headed to Nevsky. Some stores were open. I bought English cigarettes, lobsters, a book by Kuno Fischer on Kant, and headed to the Nikolayevsky train station. I left at one, and at half past two the Bolsheviks woke up, and a lively fire fight started all along the Nevsky. See more

I returned to Petrograd and dined at the Contan, where it is elegant and lively and, despite the food crisis, you can eat quite well. True, the prices are insane, but the value of money gets cheaper every day, so why save it? As we walked through the streets in the evening, we witnessed unexpected events: the streets were noisy, armed soldiers marched, crowds carried posters with "Down with the capitalist ministers," private cars were stopped right before our eyes, owners were asked to get out, and machine guns were installed instead. In a word, as if by magic, the streets were instantly transformed into the first days of the revolution. See more

Today, as I lay sleepless in bed, I began thinking that even after death, it must be extremely unpleasant to be shut up in a coffin and buried underground. But to be cremated is also a pity—it is extremely stupid to sit there in a jar all day as a bunch of ashes. I decided to will my skeleton to a museum to be displayed there under glass. At my feet, there will be a placard that says, “My friends, I am so pleased you are here.”

The streets of Petrograd have once again come to life, thronging with noisy crowds bearing flags and banners - Russian soldiers have gone on the offensive. I am very glad. Now at least we can look our French and English allies in the eye!

Age: 26
Occupation: Composer


in Petrograd
in Moscow