Mozart at Midnight

The handbill on the large wooden doors of St. Stephen's Cathedral in Vienna announced a concert of Mozart's Requiem for December 4 at midnight.  The year was 2007 and we were in Vienna for the Christmas markets.

"It might be too late at night for us," my husband said.

"I'm going," I remarked.  "If you don't want to go, I think I can get back down here by myself."

"Why is the concert starting so late?" my husband inquired at the ticket office inside the church.  We learned the Requiem was performed at midnight on December 4 in order to end at the approximate time Mozart died on December 5.  We were happy there were still tickets available as we both realized it would be a once in a lifetime concert.

The night of the concert was cold as we walked toward St. Stephen's.  There was a light show on the cathedral and the Christmas lights were spectacular hanging like giant chandeliers in an area called the Graben off St. Stephen's
Platz. There were also tiny lights that cascaded like waterfalls on the street, the Kohlmarkt. On another side street huge red lights in the form of globes hung in the middle of the street. There were also panels of red lights with a white design and strobe lights.

We stood in line in front of the cathedral as we couldn't get in until 11:30.  Once we took our seats close to the back of the church, we watched young people look for empty seats closer to the orchestra and singers and move up from the seats for which they had tickets.  We didn't feel like being so daring.

As scheduled, the concert began at midnight.  The Requiem is a powerful piece of music, both sad and beautiful.  I was very familiar with the music because I had showed the movie Amadeus to my senior English classes several years in a row. 

St. Stephen's is a huge cathedral and there were many lights above the center aisle.  Along the side of the church smaller lights glowed like candle light.  As the Requiem was played, at different intervals, one light after another above the center aisle was turned off until at the end one light remained.  With the last note, it too was extinguished.

In the silence, priests came in and rang little bells and then walked down the main aisle ringing them before they walked off to the side and were silent.  Death, the end, the sadness for those who are left behind and in Mozart's case, the music that would no longer be composed.  The stillness was deafening.  It was an experience like no other.

We came out into the cold night and because the public transportation was closed down, we walked the half hour back to our hotel at two in the morning.  I could see the stars.  I glanced up at a building and saw through a high window two chandeliers twinkling in a large room.  We walked through a Christmas market with the shutters closed on the many booths.  We walked up Maria Hilferstrasse, the main shopping street, until we got to the side street that led to our hotel. 

There are events in life that can stop one's breath for a second because of the beauty.  Mozart at midnight was such a moment.