Moscow, Day Five. -- The day started with a talk at the Academy of Sciences, on different models for relativism in Wittgenstein’s later philosophy. (Many thanks to Igor Mikhaylov for the invitation.) The Q&A session focused on how to draw distinctions between “relativism”, “pluralism”, “perspectivalism” and “contextualism”, and on what current debates about “logical pluralism” might learn from Wittgenstein. Afterwards we discussed possible forms of cooperation between Moscow and Vienna; the differences in style of play between Kasparov, Karpov and Carlsen; Max Scheler’s philosophy; and differences and commonalities between “continental” and “analytic” philosophy. (In the process I learnt that sections of my *Psychologism* book were translated into Russian in an effort to discredit phenomenology. Not exactly my intention, but perhaps “all publicity is good publicity”. Or maybe not.) -- The 250-odd philosophers of the Academy of Sciences are the crème de la crème of their field in Russia. They don’t have to teach at all. Their colleagues in normal universities are not that lucky: their teaching load amounts to 900 hours per year. -- My visit to the Academy was the first highlight of the day, two more were to follow (both thanks to Nadia Moro). We walked from my favourite subway station (“Kultury Park”) to “Novospassky Monastery” where we admired the beautifully restored walls and ceilings of the church, and listened for a while to the Russian Orthodox version of evensong. I could listen to these chants for hours on end. But time was of the essence since we didn’t want to miss our symphonic concert at the “Dom Musiki” (The House of Music). The Russian National Philharmonic under Vladimir Spivakov played Saint-Saëns (op. 33), Bruch (op. 26), and Tchaikovsky (op. 23). The respective soloists were Alexander Ramm (cello), Klara Kan (violin), and George Li (piano). -- The event was timetabled to start at 7pm, but most people did not enter the hall until around 7.15pm. Even when the concert was already under way, latecomers were still allowed in. Otherwise the audience was marvelously quiet. There was a nationalist touch in that the Russian flag was projected onto the organ behind the stage. Fortunately this reference was cancelled out by the fact that Russia’s very own Tchaikovsky was interpreted by a brilliant U.S. American pianist. The audience gave him a standing ovation that sent a shiver down my spine.