Serge and Sviatoslav Prokofiev. France, 1926.
I had a rather heavy head, so I took Sviatoslav for a walk to the furthest ends of the Bois de Boulogne. He was being a "puff-puff", trailed in the mud and on one occasion loudly sang "Chizhik". When I went along one path and he was going along another, he said philosophically "You are there and I am here, each has his own path". (Diary, 1928)
This is my day: I wake between 7.30 and 8.00, get Labunsky up and go to the bathroom to wash. Because it's the country I shave every other day and depending on that, go downstairs fifteen or thirty minutes later. I drink coffee, open the shutters and settle down to work till ten. At ten o'clock they bring the mail, which is a break in my labours. If there aren't many letters, I work again till half past eleven. Then I let Ptashka sing while I go for a walk; sometimes I take Sviatoslav with me in his three-wheeled pram, his "tasi", as he calls it (his version of the English word "taxi"). Sometimes I do yet a bit more work when I get back from my walk.
Lunch is at quarter to one. After lunch, if required, I dictate a letter or two to Labunsky. Afternoon work is less intense than in the mornings i.e. I rarely compose in the afternoons, though sometimes I finish a piece. Then I do corrections, make alterations to the Symphony or plan orchestration. Tea is at four and at half past five I go for a long walk of four to five kilometres, sometimes to Champagne, and return by train, ready for supper at half past seven.
In the evening I play the piano for a bit (Second Concerto, Fourth Sonata) and write my diary (the new one) or add to the old one, in its abridged form. We go to bed at ten. (Diary, 1929)
Serge and Sviatoslav Prokofiev.
1925 and 1927.