Mozart Requiem Concert June 1, 2025, Playbill Content

On the Requiem

Shulamit Hoffmann, Conductor

Papa Leopold, ever the anxious father, once wrote to his son, “Where is the music you are

supposed to be writing for the opera that opens in one month? You haven’t written a note.” To

which Wolfgang replied, “Yes, but that’s all that’s left to do. The music is all in my head!”

That was typical of Mozart’s compositional process. It is likely, and there is evidence to

support the supposition, that Mozart had in his mind the conception of the entire Requiem.

It is unspeakably sad that his final illness prevented him from completing the physical

composition.

The Requiem gives voice to grief, fear, and despair, but also to consolation, the promise

of redemption, and joy, even playfulness. It resonates for so many, in both personal and

universal ways; for me, it gives expression to my response to painful losses, and also to the

greater predicament of the human condition.

The music embodies light and dark, a fearsome God and a loving one, pathos and salvation.

It is the ne plus ultra in portraying mood, color, scene, action, and human frailties and strength

It embraces Handelian architecture and Beethovenian passion in its singular

Mozartian voice. Its structural integrity, thematic unity, harmonic audacity,

rhythmic vivacity, melodic beauty, and song-like phraseology dazzle and

move. Its sheer aural beauty makes me cry the most wonderful tears. In

subject and in music it is an epic work.

I am grateful for the choir’s willingness to indulge my being so in love with

the Requiem, and for our journey into it, going far beyond the notes, to cry,

to smile, to tremble, to swoon in the music. I hope that, with our fabulous

soloists and orchestra, and with a little grace, we will experience for ourselves

and convey to our audience moments, however evanescent, of beauty and

truth that are the Requiem’s regal jewels.

Requiem K. 626 in D minor Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)

Completion by Franz Xaver Süßmayr (1766-1803)

I. Introitus

Requiem aeternam

II. Kyrie

III. Sequenz

Dies irae

Tuba mirum

Rex tremendae

Recordare

Confutatis

Lacrimosa

IV: Offertorium

Domine Jesu

Hostias

V. Sanctus

VI. Benedictus

VII. Agnus Dei

VIII. Communio

Lux aeterna

Cum sanctis

Soloists, choir, orchestra

Helene Zindarsian, soprano; Solmaaz Adeli, mezzo soprano;

Corey head, tenor; José Mendiola, bass

The work is approximately 50 minutes in duration

Notes, Texts, Translations

Program notes © 2025 Drs Shulamit Hoffmann and Amy Jervis

Provenance

Mystery and intrigue have shrouded Mozart’s Requiem since the

composer’s death. There is the fascination with the “Grey Messenger” who

delivered the commission to Mozart, the anonymity of the commissioner,

the promise of a significant payment, the contractual agreement that

the work become the exclusive property of the commissioner and that

the composer remain unknown, and the stirrings of superstition roused

within Mozart at the request to write a mass for the dead.

About fifty miles southwest of Vienna, in Stuppach, the beautiful Countess

Anna von Walsegg had died on February 14. She was twenty-one. Her

grieving husband, Count Franz von Walsegg, commissioned two works

to commemorate her: a marble-and-granite monument from the then

renowned sculptor Johann Martin Fischer, and a musical setting of the

Roman Catholic mass for the dead from Mozart. For the monument, von

Walsegg paid 3,000 florins, and for the Requiem, 225 florins. Some two

hundred years later, the monument no longer exists, but the Requiem

setting has become one of the most beloved cornerstones of Western

classical music.

Von Walsegg wanted the work written anonymously to satisfy a curious

predilection of his own. He would commission works from composers

under the condition of anonymity. Himself an amateur musician, he

would then copy these commissioned works into his own hand and pass

them off as his own compositions at private performances that he led. The

musicians who performed these “Walsegg” works knew about the ruse but

played along.

In the summer of 1791, Mozart received a visit from a cloaked, anonymous

figure, a messenger from von Walsegg, who delivered the offer of the

commission. Payment for it was as much as Mozart might be paid for an

entire opera, and a down payment of half was made at the outset. Mozart

accepted the commission eagerly, but it was not just for the financial

reward. He had written a prodigious amount of sacred music in his

Salzburg days, but in Vienna, almost none. He had been preoccupied with

the Viennese taste for opera and with piano concerti for his own public

performances. And he had been discouraged by the strictures imposed

on the composition of sacred music by the previous ruling emperor. Now,

under the more liberal Joseph II, many of those strictures had been lifted.

Also, Mozart had recently accepted the unpaid position of assistant

Kapellmeister at St. Stephen’s Cathedral (where Viva la Musica performed

in 2006), in the hope that the elderly and ailing Kapellmeister would soon

be indisposed and that he, Mozart, would then secure a paid position. He

saw the commission for the Requiem as an opportunity, unfettered by

any strictures of expressivity with the new freedoms allowed sacred music,

to prove himself a composer worthy of the office of Kapellmeister at the

most important cathedral in the most important musical city.

Mozart was in extraordinarily creative mode, composing not one, but two

operas, The Magic Flute and La Clemenza di Tito. He began to sketch

ideas for the Requiem before he left Vienna for Prague to launch La

Clemenza. Years earlier, in Salzburg, Michael Haydn (younger brother

of Joseph) had written a Requiem mass commemorating the death of the

Archbishop of Salzburg; both Mozarts, father and son, had participated

in this performance, and now Mozart used Haydn’s choices of liturgical

text and some musical motifs as his model.

His student and amanuensis, Franz Xavier Süssmayr, travelled with

him and his wife Constanze to Prague, to help meet pressing deadlines

for score realizations and the production of orchestral parts for the two

simultaneous opera productions. As the Mozarts were leaving Vienna,

the same “Grey Messenger” who had presented the commission now ran

alongside their coach, asking when the Requiem would be completed. After

completing, rehearsing, and conducting the premiere of La Clemenza in

Prague, Mozart hurried back to Vienna in early November to savor the

enthusiastic reception of Flute and to continue work on the Requiem and

other commissions.

Despite exhaustion from overwork; Mozart resumed work on the

Requiem. But he soon became presciently fretful that fate was at work

against him: he told Constanze that he feared he had been poisoned and

that he was writing his own requiem. She took the score away from him to

5relieve his despair. He turned his seemingly limitless creativity to fulfilling

a commission for music for the installation of officers at his Masonic lodge

(he had become a Freemason in 1784; his father followed suit in 1785).

He composed the celebratory, multi-movement Cantata KV 623, Laut

verkünde unsre Freude (“Proclaim aloud our joy”), completing the work

on November 15th, 1791, and conducting the first performance three days

later. There is not a hint of gloom in the music.

Mozart at last had everything to look forward to in his career. The recent

successes of La Clemenza in Prague and of Flute in Vienna had given him

the acclaim he had sought for so long, especially from Viennese audiences;

offers of commissions were pouring in; and the possibility of a secure and

well-paying position as Kapellmeister at St. Stephens seemed imminent.

But Mozart’s physical health was debilitated. He took to his sickbed on

November 20. In his short life, bedrest had always provided recovery from

exhaustion and illness and a return to health.

Instead of regaining his strength, he grew increasingly ill. He had worked

ahead on the Requiem, as was his wont, writing melodic material up to the

Hostias movement. But there was still much to be written. He continued to

compose the Requiem. His hands and feet began to swell. Then he could

not get out of bed; nor wear the beautiful robe his mother-in-law had

made him. When he could no longer physically write himself, he dictated

to Süssmayr; no doubt, he shared with him his vision for completing the

work and perhaps gave him some single sheets with sketches of musical

ideas. One can only imagine his frustration and despair at what was

happening to him as Mozart railed at poor Süssmayr, “What do you

know? You just stand there like a duck in a thunderstorm!”

On the afternoon of December 4th, three singer friends gathered around

Mozart’s bedside, and, with Mozart taking the alto part, the quartet sang

what was written of the Requiem. The last measures Mozart penned were

the first eight of the Lacrimosa; the last text he set, Qua resurget ex favilla

judicandus homo reus (“When the guilty shall rise from the ashes to be

judged”). When the ensemble sang that line, Mozart turned his face to the

wall and wept.

The singers departed. By the early evening, Mozart was still lucid but

failing. Constanze asked Sophie, her sister, to fetch the doctor and a

6priest. The priest dilly-dallied. The doctor sent word he was at the theater

and would come when the performance was over. When he did come, he

prescribed cold compresses to the patient’s forehead. Sophie protested; the

doctor insisted. Mozart lapsed into unconsciousness. Cradled in Sophie’s

arms, he died just before one o’clock in the morning of December 5th,

1791. He was 35 years old. Sophie said that with his last breaths, Mozart

was mouthing the timpani parts of the Requiem.

The last page of Mozart’s autograph score of the Requiem. Here he has set to music the phrase

Fac eas Domine de morte transire ad vitam (“Make them, O Lord, cross from death into life.”)

Both at the upper and lower right of the page, Mozart had written: “quam

olim d: c”, an instruction that the Quam olim fugue at the end of the

previous movement, the Domine Jesu, is to be repeated da capo (“from

the top”) also at the end of this movement, the Hostias. These are the

last words in the score, and thus may be the last words Mozart wrote.

The autograph, normally housed in the State Library in Vienna, was on

display at the 1958 World’s Fair in Brussels. Someone was able to gain

access to the manuscript, and tore off the bottom right-hand corner. The

fragment has never been recovered.

My photocopy of the autograph is here for your perusal: it is on Larry’s

table in the narthex at the back of the church. Even a cursory look at the

artifact, showing Mozart’s lyrical, rhythmic writing, of both music and

text, and the many empty spaces where music still needed to be written,

might move you to tears.

A funeral service was held on December 10th at St. Michael’s Church,

Vienna. Süssmayr finished the colle parte (orchestral parts doubling

vocal parts) scoring of the Kyrie in time for the funeral service. The first

two movements of the Requiem, Requiem aeternam and Kyrie, were

performed.

The completion of the full Requiem is its own remarkable story. Constanze,

well aware of her late husband’s genius, was practical and savvy. As a

29-year-old impoverished widow with two children—one an infant just

a few months old—she needed to provide for herself and her children.

Within days of Mozart’s death, Constanze approached Eybler, another

of Mozart’s composer students to finish the work in secret. Eybler started,

writing directly on Mozart’s score; shortly, he said he could not continue.

So Constanze turned to Süssmayr. He orchestrated the movements that

Mozart had composed but not completed, and he wrote three movements

for which Mozart had committed nothing to the autograph.

Süssmayr began by writing out everything Mozart had written and then

started his work on that score, so that his completion would be in one

hand. The first movement is entirely written by Mozart—the choral

and orchestral parts—and all the choral parts of the second movement

were written by Mozart; Süssmayr finished the doubling by the orchestra

and added the trumpets and timpani. Most of the other movements

contain Mozart’s thematic and harmonic material and the beginnings of

orchestration that Süssmayr then completed. The Benedictus, Sanctus,

and Agnus Dei are usually considered Süssmayr’s. It is my supposition

that these movements probably follow Mozart’s verbal instructions, and

perhaps some sketches Mozart had made on loose sheets of manuscript

paper.

Süssmayr completed his work by the summer of 1792. Constanze sent

Count von Walsegg Süssmayr’s score on the pretext that her husband had

completed the work just before he died. She received the final payment for

the Requiem. Von Walsegg conducted a performance of the Requiem (as

his own tribute to his deceased wife). Then the Requiem score languished

unrecognized in von Walsegg’s library for decades. But savvy Constanze

had had two copies made of Süssmayr’s completed score before she sent

the original to von Walsegg. She sent one of these copies to the music

publishing house of Breitkopf & Härtel; the Requiem was published in

1800. Without the efforts of Süssmayr and Constanze, the Requiem might

8have been lost forever.

Süssmayr died twelve years after Mozart, for most of that time maintaining

his silence about his necessarily illicit completion of the work, writing

only to the publisher that three movements of the Requiem were his own

composition.

It is remarkable that a work that was left in a fragmentary, incomplete

state has not only survived but has become perhaps the most beloved work

in the choral-orchestral canon. There are literally scores of recordings

available, and performances continue to be programmed often throughout

the world by performing ensembles, both professional and amateur.

Mozart wrote more than 600 compositions in his too-short thirty-five

years; the Requiem is his last, most personal, and darkest statement.

In it, more than in any other of his works, the composer’s life and his

music coalesce. Mozart, a Freemason, had thought about life and death.

In his library (catalogued after his death for estate-evaluation purposes)

were several books on philosophy, including one authored by Abraham

Mendelssohn, the philosopher-grandfather of Felix and Fanny. Mozart

had written to his father as the elder Mozart was approaching his demise,

saying he regarded death as a wondrous and welcome state. But his own

final illness and death came all too soon, too suddenly, and too horribly.

That it came while he was writing a commissioned mass for the dead is an

extraordinary coincidence.

The last portrait of Mozart (1782), an oil painting by his brother-in-law, Josef Lange.

It captures Mozart in a personal moment, without his wig, his gaze inward.

Structure

Text

Mozart chose those portions of the Roman Catholic liturgy that

Michael Haydn had used for his Requiem (1771), and with which he

was familiar, having participated, with his father, in a performance of

the work in Salzburg. The eight liturgical sections are Introitus, Kyrie,

Sequenz, Offertorium, Sanctus, Benedictus, Agnus Dei, and Communio.

The language of the text, of course, is Latin. Seven of the sections are

written in prose. The Sequenz, the section specific to the Mass for the

Dead, is rhyming poetry dating from the Medieval era. It is compelling

and frightening. Throughout the Requiem, the Latin text is colorful, vivid,

depictive, and musical.

Roadmap

Fifteen musical movements comprise Mozart’s Requiem. Each liturgical

section contains one or several musical movements. The overall structure

is a symmetrical, arc shape. The first and second movements are repeated

(the first truncated) as the fourteenth and fifteenth movements, with

somewhat differing text; the eighth movement, Lacrimosa, is both the

emotional heart of the work and the central structural point.

There are also two sections of movements repeated: Quam olim Abrahae

occurs as a closing to Domine Jesu and Hostias; Osanna to Sanctus

and Benedictus. These repeats in a large-scale work give the listener

architectural anchorage.

Soloist movements or sections

Tuba mirum, Recordare, and Benedictus are the three movements for the

quartet of soloists, interpolated between the other twelve movements for

choir and orchestra. There is an intoned cantus firmus (a medieval melody)

for the soprano soloist in the first movement, Requiem aeternam, and in

its partial repeat, the fourteenth movement, Lux aeterna. In the Domine

Jesu, there is a brief interlude for the quartet of soloists, singing about the

signifer Michael (“standard-bearer Michael”). The orchestral writing that

accompanies the soloists is charming.

Form & Content

Textures and Styles

Mozart uses a panoply of styles and textures, Baroque, Classic, and

Romantic: Baroque counterpoint and even melodic material of Handel;

Classical symmetrical phraseology, elegantly honed melodies, and diatonic

harmony’s tension-resolution dichotomy; and the Romantic heart-on-

sleeve personal expression that was at his doorstep in the figure of a young

Beethoven.

Several movements are cast as strict fugues or fugatos—a more loosely

fugal style—of the Baroque era, considered old-fashioned in Mozart’s

day. In fugal writing, one voice enters, followed by a second with the same

subject or a countersubject, followed by another and another. Fugues are

compositionally rigorously disciplined by nature. Igor Stravinsky quipped

of the genre, which can be demanding on its listeners: “as a new voice

enters, the previous voices exit, and the audience follows!”

Mozart imbued this old-fashioned form with his most effervescent

music: in Kyrie at the beginning, and its echo, Cum sanctis, at the end,

he appropriated Handelian themes to build a magnificent edifice of

a double fugue, with some 12 entries of the first subject and 20 of the

second, employing delayed and overlapping entries. The clashing struggles

of fugal voices portray the damned in the Confutatis fugato; in Quam

olim Abrahae, the fugal layers suggest multiple generations; two Osannas,

bubble with exuberant, overlapping shouts of praise; and part of Domine

Jesu is a robust fugato: ne absorbeat eas tartarus, ne cadant in obscurum,

(“let hell not swallow them [the souls of all the faithful departed] and let

them not fall into darkness”). The voices capture the text imagery as they

tumble downward and end up in obscurum.

Key

The signature key of the Requiem is D minor, regarded as the mode of

tragedy since medieval times. The piece opens and closes in this key, and

seven of its fifteen movements are in D minor. The other eight movements

are split equally between other minors and major keys: G minor is used

three times, A minor once. The major keys are B flat (twice), F, and D.

Although the recognition of key is less obvious in present-day tuning than

previously, key contributes to each movement’s character: the terror of

the Dies irae, the awesome majesty of the Rex tremendae, the tragedy of

Lacrimosa.

Instrumentation

The Requiem’s compact orchestra includes strings, woodwinds, brass,

timpani, and continuo. The strings—two sections of violins, viola, cello,

and contrabass—play more notes than anyone! Woodwinds include 2

basset horns and 2 bassoons. The basset horn is not a horn at all, but

a darker, deeper, cousin to the clarinet, invented around 1760. Mozart

loved its mellowness and wrote for it extensively. The basset parts can be

played on clarinet, but we are very lucky to feature basset horns in today’s

performance. Brass includes 2 trumpets and 3 trombones. Trombones

mostly double the lower three voices (as was the custom in church music)

and contribute occasional fanfares. The tenor trombone is featured in the

Tuba mirum. Two timpani, playing mostly in lockstep with the trumpets,

add incisive and grand rhythmic punctuations. The continuo is keyboard,

cello and bass. For keyboard, we use the magnificent LAUMC organ (1962

Swain and Kates pipework, 2007 Allen 465 console, 4 manuals, 87 stops,

and 255 MIDI voices).

Text Themes

Textual themes of light, salvation, and eternal rest are pervasive, as is

the juxtaposition of a God of judgement with a merciful God. There are

references to ancient Greek and Roman literature as well as to the Old

and New Testament. The Mass holds status as a major artifact of Western

civilization, with cultural reference and meaning for every participant and

listener.

Word and Tone Painting

Despite the prescription that the music follows the Requiem Mass liturgy,

and despite the seemingly obscure (or, for present day audiences, remote)

Latin text, the music-to-text relationship is rich. Mozart, for all his exquisite

Classical clarity, order, and balance, has a gift for word-painting, a device

in which the music captures the visual imagery of the text in sound; the

sound depicts the word meaning using pictorial musical means. There are

abundant instances of the music illustrating the text in word-painting, a

key to the music’s affective power. For example, the descending two-note

teardrop motif that infuses Lacrimosa (the “tearful” movement); ne cadant

(“let them not fall”), where the voices tumble down atop each other, even

as they articulate this plea; in profundo lacu, “in the deep lake,” where the

music is low, soft, slow, and murky.

Motifs

Mozart used motivic repetition extensively in the Requiem. It takes some

keen listening (and looking) to uncover these musical motifs; when one finds

them, they present a gorgeous woven tapestry, each motif recognizable

and providing musical linkage, at the same time transformed to express the

character of the movements in which they appear.

Three eighth-notes pick-up: Requiem aeternam: et lux per-(pe-tua); Kyrie:

Christe e-(le-i-son); Quam olim Abrahae: quam o-lim; Benedictus: brass

and woodwinds fanfare.

Two quarter-notes pick-up: Recordare: ne me (per-das), an te (di-em); In-

ge-(misco), tan-quam (reus), cul-pa (meus), vul-tus (meus), par-ce (Deus);

Agnus Dei: A-gnus (Dei); do-na (eis requiem).

Dotted rhythm (long-short): Requiem aeternam: strings under exaudi; Rex

tremendae: the regal procession motif; Confutatis: tenor and bass; Hostias:

hostias, hodie, offerimus, facimus, Domine, suscipe; Quam olim Abrahae:

A-bra-hae.

Walking bass (a steady, continuous rhythm of quarter notes, that provides a

strong pulse and harmonic foundation): Requiem aeternam: opening; Tuba

mirum: accompaniment to alto and soprano soloists; Lacrimosa opening.

Sixteenth-note scales: Requiem aeternam: string accompaniment to

soprano solo; vocal fugue second subject; Kyrie: Christe eleison second

subject theme.

Scales and arpeggios (broken chords): Recordare celli, then upper strings;

Confutatis: upper strings accompanimnet to voca me; Domine Jesu: string

accompaniment to Ne absorbeat fugue; Osanna: violin accompaniment;

Agnus Dei: strings.

Süssmayr Completion

There are several recent completions of the Requiem. But Süssmayr’s

completion, made in the months following the composer’s death, remains

a concert standard because, in the opinion of many, it is still the closest to

Mozart in style. Süssmayr may well have stood like a duck in a thunderstorm

before the dying but still fully alert Mozart, but his completion seems most

aligned with the composer’s writing. Grateful for his part in giving the

world this masterwork, we perform the Süssmayr completion.

“K” and “KV”

Ludwig von Köchel, a Viennese botanist and mineralogist, created a

catalog of Mozart’s compositions, taking all the works he knew of that

could be attributed to Mozart and placing them in what he believed to

be their chronological order. K 1 is a little minuet that the almost six-year

old Mozart played for his father, who wrote it down. The last piece in the

catalog was the Requiem K 626. New works by Mozart have come to light

since Köchel’s time and some that he thought were authentic have turned

out not to be. There have been several revisions to the original catalog,

and the numberings are now signified by KV (Köchel Verzeichnis “list”).

The latest update, published in September 2024, contains 95 new items,

making over 700 listings in total. The catalog is available online at https://

kv.mozarteum.at/de.

Coda

The Requiem, we could say, is both universal and personal in its content;

majestic and intimate in expression; powerful and tender, poignant and

passionate; it conveys pathos and hope, fear and faith, and an awe-struck

wonder at, and closeness to, the Almighty. Beethoven called Mozart’s

Requiem “wild and terrible.” I think he meant that as a high compliment.

When I am playing a reduction of the Requiem on the piano, parts of it

feel Beethovenian under my hands.

Introitus: Requiem aeternam Chorus & Soprano Solo

Requiem aeternam, in D minor, opens with a poignant orchestral

introduction: low, quiet-stepping strings paint a muted canvas for the layered

entries of the dark-hued bassoons and basset horns. Trombones, trumpets

and timpani announce the choir’s fugal, layered Requiem aeternam (“Rest

eternal”) entries set against the sobbing strings. The three eighth notes

moving to a longer note motif announces the Light theme: et lux perpetua

(“perpetual light”). The soprano soloist intones Te decet hymnus (“A hymn

befits Thee”) in a small-stepping modal melody reminiscent of medieval

plainchant. Then, against urgent, jagged downward-falling, dotted-

rhythm strings, the choral alto, tenor, and bass call out Exaudi (“hear my

prayer”); the melody the soloist has just sung Mozart now gives to the

choir sopranos. The dotted rhythms are inverted to optimistic upward

octave leaps, and the choir enters with a second fugue, the same Requiem

aeternam (“Rest eternal”) subject as earlier now paired with a second

subject, dona eis Domine (“grant to them, O Lord”), in voice pairings:

bass and alto, tenor and soprano. The double-subject fugue, with voice

pairings of bass and alto, soprano and tenor, foreshadows the magnificent

construct of the Kyrie.

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, Rest eternal grant to them, O Lord,

et lux perpetua luceat eis. and let perpetual light shine upon them.

Te decet hymnus, Deus, in Sion, A hymn befits thee, O God in Zion,

et tibi reddetur votum in Jerusalem. and to Thee a vow shall be fulfilled

in Jerusalem

Exaudi orationem meam, Hear my prayer,

ad te omnis caro veniet. for unto Thee all flesh shall come.

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, Rest eternal grant to them, O Lord,

et lux perpetua luceat eis. and let perpetual light shine upon them.

Kyrie Chorus

Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison is a phrase of the original Greek Christian

mass that was preserved in the Latin translation when that language

became dominant. The form of ancient Greek called Koine “common”

was the lingua franca of the eastern Mediterranean in Jesus’s day and was

the language of the New Testament.

Mozart was familiar with the works of Handel through access to Handel

scores in Baron von Swieten’s library. (He re-orchestrated Handel’s

Messiah.) The opening Requiem aeternam theme is modeled after Handel’s

The ways of Zion do mourn, HWV 264. Other parts of Mozart’s Requiem

refer to this passage, notably in the coloratura-like counter subject in the

Kyrie fugue and in the conclusion of the Lacrimosa. And he appropriated

the theme from And with his stripes, also from Handel’s Messiah, for the

first subject of the Requiem Kyrie.

Notice the symbolic tone painting gesture in the Kyrie first subject: the

pitches of the opening first six notes form a cross, going across, down, up,

and across once more. Mozart aligns himself with Bach and Handel, and

others who have used this thematic reference.

This magnificent edifice of a movement maintains the D-minor key of the

opening movement with which it is paired. It is structured in a Classical

tri-partite exposition-development-recapitulation form, twelve paired

entries of the first subject, Kyrie eleison, are matched with no less than

nineteen entries of the second subject, Christe eleison.

How does Mozart pair twelve with nineteen? He piles some of these second

subject entries atop each other, in stretto (Italian “tight, narrow”), where

successive new entries begin before the previous ones are finished, the ever-

growing heaps of entries growing ever more exciting, even precarious.

Not only that, but Mozart injects these stretto entries with chromatic

alterations, further ratcheting up the exuberance. The movement opens in

D minor and traverses a dazzling array of keys and thus moods—A minor,

G minor, F major, C minor, B flat major, and F minor—before coming

home to roost in D minor. With this rousing movement, Mozart thumbs

his nose at the then-prevalent notion that polyphony is old-fashioned and

fusty.

Kyrie eleison, Lord have mercy,

Christe eleison, Christ have mercy,

Kyrie eleison. Lord have mercy.

Sequenz: Dies irae

Chorus

The text offers apocalyptic revelations about Judgment Day. Mozart gives

it a typically passionate, thunderous setting, full of the awe and dread of

the day when the dead are to rise from their graves and face judgment by

Christ, who will return to earth to separate the blessed from the accursed.

This is not Christ as merciful Lamb, but in his apocalyptic aspect as severe

and powerful judge.

In early Christian thought saeclum or saeculum meant the current age

of the world, which would come to an end with the Apocalypse and be

followed by a new age. It can be translated as “age” or “world.”

The Sybil was a pagan Roman oracular priestess famously appearing

in Vergil’s Aeneid, which was thought by some Christian thinkers to

prophesy the coming of Christ.

In the third D-minor movement, the urgent, galloping tempo brings

the terror of Judgment Day closer and closer. Basses and tenors evoke

earthquake-like tremors, quantus tremor est futurus. (“How great the

trembling will be”). The rapid-fire tremolo strings, going literally and

figuratively hell for leather, “tone paint” fear and trembling; trumpets and

timpani punctuate the choir’s urgent screams. This short, but powerful

and dramatic movement should dispel any notions about Mozart’s music

being effete!

Throughout the Requiem the tenors and basses depict hell and damnation

with thundering forte passages; by contrast, the sopranos and altos make

sweet, angelic beseechments.

Dies irae, dies illa, Day of wrath, that day

Solvet saeclum in favilla, shall dissolve the world into ashes,

Teste David cum Sibylla. as David prophesied with the Sibyl.

Quantus tremor est futurus, How great the trembling will be,

Quando judex est venturus when the Judge shall come,

Cuncta stricte discussurus. the rigorous investigator of all things.

Tuba mirum

Tenor Trombone & Solo Quartet

Tuba Mirum is the first movement in a major key, this one B flat major. It

features the tenor trombone, its opening fanfare representing the solemn

horn that will sound on Judgment Day to summon all creatures, living

and dead.

The vocal soloists enter individually in the order of ascending voice range:

bass, tenor, alto, and soprano. The bass entry, Tuba mirum spargens

sonum (“The trumpet spreading its wondrous sound”) is accompanied by

trombone as “the trumpet.” The trombone also accompanies the vocal

tenor, Mors stupebit et natura (“Death will be stunned, and nature too”), but

bows out for the alto Judex ergo cum sedebit (“When therefore the Judge

is seated”) and soprano Quid sum miser tunc dicturus (“What then am I, a

poor wretch, to say?”). Unlike the text for bass, tenor, and alto, that for soprano

is in the plaintive first person; and goes on to ask what protector can she

find to plead her case—a standard practice in Roman law.

Finally, the quartet sing together, and the basset horns and bassoons join

the strings to gracefully support the quartet.

Tuba mirum spargens sonum, The trumpet, spreading its

wondrous sound

Per sepulcra regionum through the tombs of every land,

Coget omnes ante thronum. Will summon all before the throne.

Mors stupebit et natura Cum resurget creatura Judicanti responsura. Death will be stunned, and nature too,

when all creation shall rise again

to answer the one judging.

Liber scriptus proferetur In quo totum continetur, Unde mundus judicetur. A written book will be brought forth

in which all shall be contained

and from which the world shall be judged.

Judex ergo cum sedebit Quidquid latet apparebit, Nil inultum remanebit. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus, When therefore the Judge is seated,

whatever lies hidden shall be revealed,

No wrong shall remain unpunished.

What then am I, a poor wretch, to say?

Quem patronum rogaturus, Cum vix justus sit securus? Which protector shall I ask for,

when even the just are scarcely secure?

Rex tremendae

Chorus

This movement’s text follows a common ancient prayer pattern that

begins by invoking the deity and moves on to make a request. Mozart

gives the invocation all the might and splendor he can muster in Rex

tremendae majestatis (“King of terrifying majesty”), then changes to a

more measured appeal in qui salvandos, salvas gratis (“who freely saves

the saved”) and another transition to the personal request, salva me (“save

me”) sung achingly pianissimo.

Tremendae means “that must be trembled before.” Pietatis, from the noun

pietas, connotes “piety” in the sense of duty or doing the right thing, as

well as a feeling for what man and deity owe to each other.

The key is the awe-filled G minor for one of the grandest but shortest

movements of the Requiem. The dotted rhythms, derived from those in

the first movement, here are forte and rigorous; dotted rhythms being

a Baroque musical device to capture regal, processional grandeur, and

portray the kingly reference of the movement’s title.

After the royal entrance, with three hailing Rex (“King”) invocations,

simultaneous vocal canons, based on the first two lines of the text, one

between alto and soprano, and another between tenor and bass, each start

with the yearning interval of an upward minor 6th. With compositional

savoir-faire, Mozart adds a third canon between upper and lower strings,

played simultaneously with the vocal canons, each set of parts, violins I

and II in the upper, and viola and cello with bass in the lower, moving in

harmonically rich thirds. The canons all fit together seamlessly, and with

expressive poignance.

The dotted rhythm that has populated all the figuration of the movement

until Salva me (“Save me”), now loses its forward momentum; legato and

descending stepwise, it folds itself into the beseechments of the text.

Rex tremendae majestatis King of terrifying majesty

Qui salvandos salvas gratis who freely saves the saved:

Salva me, fons pietatis Save me, fount of pity.

Recordare

Solo Quartet

Both the Recordare and the Benedictus seem to come straight from the

opera stage: the soloists each on their own, in duet, in trio, in quartet,

the back-and-forth between them, capturing the very human dichotomies

of Figaro, or Giovanni, or Magic Flute: sweet, insistent; docile, assertive;

unsure, convinced. Mozart was a master at capturing the essence of human

contradictions.

In this F-major movement, charming, intimate, and conversational,

Mozart brings this very human tone to the hefty text of another prayer.

Spicy dissonances between the two basset horns in the introduction are

repeated between soloists in alto and bass pairing and soprano and tenor

pairing. Underneath this delicious tension-resolution, the cellos play a

discreet melody, dolce (“sweet”), dance-like, and charming.

This prayer is directed to Jesus at the beginning and shifts to God (Deus)

toward the end; pie (“pious”) reminds Jesus of his duty to the speakers. In

asking for personal absolution, the voices explicitly link Jesus’s sacrifice to

their own salvation.

The last verse refers to separating the sheep (conventionally regarded as

the blessed) from the goats (the damned).

Recordare Jesu pie Quod sum causa tuae viae Ne me perdas illa die Remember, merciful Jesus

That I am the cause of your sojourn

Do not cast me out on that day.

Quaerens me sedisti lassus Redemisti crucem passus Tantus labor non sit cassus. Seeking me, you sat down weary;

Having suffered the cross,

you redeemed me.

May such great labor not be in vain.

Juste judex ultionis Just Judge of vengeance

Donum fac remissionis Grant the gift or remission

Ante diem rationis Before the day of reckoning.

Ingemisco tanquam reus Culpa rubet vultus meus Supplicant parce, Deus I groan, like one who is guilty;

My face blushes with guilt.

Spare thy supplicant, O God.

Qui Mariam absolvisti et lautronem exaudisti mihi quoque spem dedisti You who absolved Mary

and heeded the thief

have also given hope to me.

Preces meae non sunt dignae, Sed tu bonus fac benigne Ne perenni cremer igne My prayers are not worthy,

but Thou, good one, kindly grant

That I not burn in the everlasting fires.

Inter oves locum praeste et ab haedis me sequestra Statuens in parte dextra Grant me a favored place among thy sheep

and separate me from the goats

Placing me at thy right hand.

Confutatis

Chorus

This movement opens in A minor: the dissonant imitative entries of tenor

and bass tone-paint the terrifying struggles of the damned (maledictis),

accompanied by the strings’ flammis acribus (“bitter flames”). The ethereal

soprano and alto Voca me cum benedictis (“Call me with the blessed”) is

a dramatic contrast: the quiet pleas of the lucky blessed to go to heaven.

The flames subside into flickering embers, as a backdrop to the three last

statements—oro supplex (“I pray”), cor contritum (“my heart contrite”),

and gere curam (“protect me”)—a personal prayer for God’s attention to

an individual death, mei finis, (“my end”). The movement closes in the

reassuring key of F major. One can hear Mozart recognizing his own

impending death.

A hushed transition chord leads us breathlessly into the next movement.

Confutatis maledictis Flammis acribus addictis Voca me cum benedictis Oro supplex et acclinis, Cor contritum quasi cinis, Gere curam mei finis. When the accursed are confounded

Consigned to the bitter flames,

Call me with the blessed.

I pray, suppliant and kneeling,

My heart contrite as ashes,

Protect me in my final hour.

Lacrimosa

Chorus

This seventh movement, “of tears,” stands at the center of the Requiem, of

course in D minor. The first eight measures, the last Mozart composed as

he lay on his deathbed, apply the moving, delicate tone usually associated

with the Requiem’s most personal prayers to the thundering rhetoric of

Judgment Day. It is a stunning and emotionally moving juxtaposition.

The first two measures recall the opening of the first movement, with

a hesitant stepping bass line answered by the first violins two-note tear

drop motif that will permeate the whole movement; the motif sometimes

descending, sometimes ascending, always sad.

The trombone entry, echoing that of the first movement, here evokes

doom.

Judicandus homo reus (“When the guilty shall be judged”) is sung in a

long, ascending scale spanning an octave plus fifth, the scream invoked by

a dramatic crescendo, one of only two that Mozart wrote in the Requiem

(the other is in the Recordare for soloists).

At the end, the music ebbs away sorrowfully, then swells to a resounding

Amen, and closes with a plagal or so-called “Amen” cadence (chords IV—I).

Lacrimosa dies illa O how tearful that day

Qua resurget ex favilla When man shall rise from the embers

Judicandus homo reus to be judged.

Huic ergo, parce Deus, Spare him then, O God,

Pie Jesu, Domine, Merciful Jesus, Lord,

Dona eis requiem. Grant them rest.

Amen

Offertorium: Domine Jesu

Chorus & Solo Quartet

Domine Jesu is a prayer that invokes Christ and makes several requests

on behalf of the souls of the faithful: it is more general than the personal

requests for salvation of self. It is in G minor, but traverses several

modulations, suggestive of the several requests for salvation from different

things.

The music is redolent with spectacular tone-painting: de poenis inferni

(“the pains of hell”) wailed by sopranos; the low, slow, and murky de

profundo lacu (“the deep lake”); ne cadant (“let them not fall”) as the music

depicts a multitude tumbling in disarray.

Libera eas de ore leonis (“Free [the souls] from the lion’s mouth”) evokes

the early Christian martyrs who met their end in Roman gladiatorial

arenas; the lion’s mouth is a metaphor for hell. The music depicts both the

optimism of freedom, and the terror of facing an hungry lion.

Ne absorbeat eas Tartarus (“let not Tartarus swallow them up”) is a fugue,

the tenor, alto, soprano, and bass voices following each other as the bodies

and souls cascade downward to Tartarus. Deep beneath Hades, Tartarus

is the Roman concept of a holding place before Hell, where the wispy souls

of the dead lead a gloomy existence awaiting final and eternal punishment.

This again invokes Vergil’s Aeneid, where the Sybil, the pagan prophetess

cited with David in the text of the Dies irae, guides Aeneas on a tour of

Tartarus.

Imitative voices, stretto (“overlapping”), call out ne cadant (“let them

not fall”), depicting a multitude tumbling in disarray in obscurum

(“into darkness”) low, still, and dark. With delicious irony, or perhaps the

optimism of faith, Mozart accompanies the cacophony of falling voices

falling atop each other with an upward scale in the strings.

A powerful reminder to God, quam olim Abrahae promisisti (“You once

promised this to Abraham”) is in the stern G minor: imitative robust

repetitions, bass and tenor, soprano and alto captures the insistence of the

faithful on God’s promise to Abraham regarding his legacy to his people.

The music is robust, energetic, and masculine. It melts tenderly, in a

heart-stopping descending 6th, into the homophonic (chordal) statement,

et semini ejus (“and to his seed”), and ends with dignified assurance on a

major chord, the so-called Picardian third.

Domine, Jesu Christe, Rex gloriae, Lord Jesus Christ, King of glory,

libera animas omnium fidelium liberate the souls of all the faithful

defunctorum departed

de poenis inferni, from the pains of hell

et de profundo lacu: and from the deep lake.

libera eas de ore leonis, ne absorbeat eas Tartarus, ne cadant in obscurum, deliver them from the lion’s mouth;

let not Tartarus swallow them up,

let them not fall into darkness:

Sed signifer sanctus Michael repraesentet eas in lucem sanctam, but let Michael, the standard-bearer,

bring them into the holy light.

Quam olim Abrahae promisisti et semini ejus. which once Thou promised to Abraham

and to his seed.

Hostias

Chorus

Hostias makes requests for specific souls commemorated in the Mass,

“those souls whose remembrance we make today.”

A hostia is a sacrificial animal. Before the Romans destroyed Herod’s

Temple in Jerusalem in 70 A.D., animal sacrifices such as doves and sheep

were offered in the temple’s sanctuary as a basic religious act, comparable

to contemporary practices in cultures throughout the Mediterranean.

Other sacrifices included grain, wine and incense. The act of making a

sacrifice invokes the very ancient principle of giving a god something in

exchange for his granting your request.

The movement opens elegantly and quietly, almost like a Viennese waltz

in E flat major, echoing the text’s seemly evocation of orderly ritual. Then,

stark dynamic contrasts between piano and forte, and in major and minor

mode and key, dramatize, both the imploring reason for and the inherent

violence of the physical act of animal sacrifice. A forceful reprise of Quam

olim Abrahae closes the movement.

Hostias et preces, tibi, Domine, Sacrifices and prayers of praise, O Lord,

laudis offerimus; we offer to you

tu suscipe pro animabus illis, Receive them, Lord, on behalf of those souls

quarum hodie memoriam facimus: whom today we commemorate.

fac eas, Domine, Make them, O Lord,

de morte transire ad vitam. pass from death into life.

Quam olim Abrahae promisisti et semini ejus. which once Thou promised to Abraham

and to his seed.

Sanctus

Chorus

Dominus Deus Sabaoth is a Latinization of a Hebrew title of God, Adonai

Yahweh Tzevaot (“Lord God of Hosts.”) Sabaoth is a Latinized spelling

of Hebrew tzevaot (“armies”) or “hosts.” Hosanna is a Latinization of

hoshana, a Hebrew and Aramaic expression that means “save, I pray,”

which became a standard liturgical term of praise.

The key of this affirmative movement is the celebratory D major. The choir

sings in sturdy homophony, confident in the glory of the Lord. The fugue

is set in playful, party mood, each voice part entering with its celebratory

statement, accompanied at the close by cascading gleeful, giggly string

passages. The celebratory, rousing calls of the choir are punctuated by

trumpets and timpani.

Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus Holy, Holy, Holy,

Dominus Deus Sabaoth! Lord God of Hosts!

Pleni sunt caeli et terra gloria tua. Heaven and earth are full of Thy Glory.

Hosanna in excelsis. Hosanna in the highest

Benedictus

Solo Quartet

The Benedictus, the longest movement of the Requiem, contains just one

line of text, Benedictus qui veni in nomine Domini (“Blessed is He who

comes in the name of the Lord.”) Each of the four soloists introduces the

text, and they interact, musically commenting and supporting each other,

like the quartet in Figaro. The music, cast in the sunny, easy-going key of

B flat is dolce (sweet), mellifluous, and charming.

The chorus bursts forth with a second celebratory Hosanna fugue, and, to

keep things lively, this one is set in B flat and the order of entering voices

differs from the previous Hosanna.

Benedictus qui venit. Blessed is He who comes

in nomine Domini. in the name of the Lord.

Hosanna in excelsis. Hosanna in the highest.

Agnus Dei

Chorus

The Agnus Dei invokes Christ in his aspect as the (sacrificial) Lamb of God

and asks again for eternal rest for the souls of the righteous. Sempiternam,

a Latin compound of semper (“always”) and aeternus (“eternal”), is

appropriately long and drawn-out.

The key of D minor conveys turmoil and struggle as the sixteenth note

string figurations churn disquietingly, first forte, then piano, while the

choir cries out, forte, for the pain of the Lamb of God, who must suffer

himself to absolve the sins of the world.

The plea Dona eis (“Grant them”) uses the same two-note pick-up motif

as Agnus Dei, now hushed and solemn, first sung by the vocal basses

accompanied by string bass; then by the soprano voices, who lead alto

and tenor, then bass; and finally, the basses lead the choir once more.

The sopranos sing not just of requiem (“rest”) but plead for requiem

sempiternam (“eternal rest.”)

Agnus Dei, Lamb of God,

qui tollis peccata mundi, who takes away the sins of the world

dona eis requiem. grant them rest.

Agnus Dei, Lamb of God,

qui tollis peccata mundi, who takes away the sins of the world

dona eis requiem sempiternam. grant them rest everlasting.

Communio: Lux aeterna

Soprano Solo & Chorus

The first two movements return as the last two, to form the pillars of an arc

structure for the 15 movements, with the Lacrimosa at the crown of the arc.

Lux aeterna is a truncated reiteration of the Requiem aeternam opening

movement, and in the same key, D minor. The soprano soloist intones Lux

aeterna (“Light eternal”) to the same melodic chant she has sung in the

first movement, and, as before, is answered by the choir.

Lux perpetua luceat eis. Let perpetual light shine upon them.

Domine O Lord,

cum sanctis tuis in aeternum with thy saints forever

quia pius es. for Thou art merciful.

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, Rest eternal grant to them, O Lord,

et lux perpetua luceat eis. and let perpetual light shine upon them.

Cum sanctis

Chorus

The final movement is another reprise of the Kyrie movement, also in

D minor. Both musical subjects share one affirming text, Cum sanctis

tuis in aeternum (“With thy saints forever”). This reprise is a gloriously

resounding apotheosis for a work of immense and enduring majesty, which

grapples with the great mystery of human mortality.

Cum sanctis tuis in aeternum, quia pius es. With thy saints forever,

for Thou art merciful.

Choir

Soprano

Anne Boersma

Virginia Boucher

Sundari Dembe

Melanie Ercoli *

Jan Grady

Kristin Gustavson

Susan Horst

Amy Jervis

Elena Kozak

Sara McNinch

Maria Claudia Peroto

Pat Rovegno

Frances Szlapka

Gennifer Tate

Sarah Vaden

Etienne Vick

Alto

Cheryl Allen

Patricia Atkinson

Meri-Beth Bird

Terri Cook

Betsy Daly-Caffell

Sandie Davis

Sofia de la Vega

Liz Ellis

Dee Gustavon

Syliva Halloran

Kathy Hsu

Lara Jarvis

Catherine Lyman

Regina Marchione

Carol Meyer *

Adrianna Mireles

Sharon Newton

Lisa Reiche

Laurel Sarmento

Jennifer Wisdom

Nancy Woolridge

Joyce Wright

Bass

Justin Bake

Greg Burroughs

Elliot Franks

Dick Hacking

Robert Kozak

Christopher Love

Spero Matthews

Matthew Reeve *

Howard Roberts

Robert Roman

Wallis Sholar

Tenor

Marcio Donadio *

Kelly Gordon

Lousie Moran

Nicolas Saint Arnaud

Pierre St Hilaire

Larry Wray

* Section Leader

Orchestra

Violin I

Thomas Alexander,

concertmaster

Benjamin Chen

Claudia Bloom

Virginia Smedberg

Basset Horn

Karen Sremac

Nora Adachi

Bassoon

Iain Forgey

Susan Dias

Violin II

Lisa Zadek

Be’eri Moalem

Rachel Magnus Hartmann

Margaret Hall

Trombone

Michael Cushing, Alto

Dave Allmon, Tenor

Doug Thorley, Bass

Viola

Stephen Moore

Irving Santana

Galina André

Trumpet

Guy Clark

Laura Shea-Clark

Violoncello

Lucinda Breed Lenicheck

Robin Snyder

Alicia Wilmunder

Timpani

Neal Goggans

Organ Continuo

Anna Khaydarova

Bass

Kelly Beecher

Tributes

Today’s performance is lovingly dedicated to the memory of two Vivans,

the late Barbara Kelsey and the late Ann Ritter, fondly remembered, and deeply missed.

Barbara Kelsey, Vivan

Barb was introduced to Viva by her mother, Ruth, in our first season, Fall

2001. Ruth thought singing in Viva

would be a way for her and Barb to have

girl-time together. As it turned out, lots of

us enjoyed girl-time with Barb during her

18 years in Viva.

Barb was at the very center of all things

Viva, administering and organizing with

unflagging commitment, enthusiasm for

our organization, and a great zest for fun-

filled parties! Barb gave herself totally to

Viva as she did to all the causes she believed in: Sherman Clay and Steinway,

Earthbeam Natural Foods Store, and the Sierra Club.

When her treatments began, in 2019, she withdrew from the choir. She had

signed up for Viva’s Requiem for the Living performance at Carnegie that

June; she gifted her spot to her nephew, Alex.

This vignette captures Barb’s spirit: Years ago, she had purchased one of the

baby blankets my mother had crotcheted for a Viva fundraiser. Barb used

hers for the crate of her beloved dog, Sophie. When Barb learned that Stan

and I had lost all our wordly goods, she took the baby blanket off Sophie’s

crate, laundered it, and mailed it to me. She knew it would be the only piece

I would now have of all my mother’s cherished handwork.

Barb, a great lover of bears, took pleasure in the birth and upbringing of Xiao

Qi Ji, the Giant Panda cub born at the Washington Zoo in 2020. She was

able to visit him before he left for China and before her illness overtook her,

in 2023. In her last few months, her energy flagging, she was searching online

for Mini Schnauzer breeders, convinced that Stan and I needed a puppy.

All Vivans loved Barb. We are not only grateful for all she did for Viva, but

also thankful for her friendship, kindness, and cheerful nature. She mustered

great courage to face her illness without complaint. We miss her so very much.

Ann Ritter, Vivan

Ann sang in Viva la Musica for many

seasons, and traveled with the choir

on performing trips to New York and

overseas. She was a model chorister:

always with her music learned, always

on time, always an enthusiastic traveler,

always cheerful and appreciative, and

always helpful and willing to pitch in

with organizational stuff.

She enlisted her two charming, then

very young grand-daughters to usher at Viva concerts. When I asked if

Viva might gift them a thank you, Ann said no, she wanted them to learn

the value of service.

To the delight of the dog lovers in the choir, she sometimes brought her

Rhodesian Ridgeback dog to rehearsal. He was about as big as Ann, and

he was the best behaved person in the room!

When we lost our home in 2020, Ann sent succor, in lots of different,

always helpful, ways, and she encouraged us in our rebuild.

When fellow alto Barbara was diagnosed with her illness, Ann supported

her with much-appreciated homemade soups and lots of encouragement.

It was not long before Ann, herself, was facing her own health crisis.

Ann had signed up for the proposed Viva trip to Vienna in 2020 that was

delayed because of Covid. By the time the choir was preparing for the

makeup-for-missing-Vienna London trip in 2023, Ann was seriously ill.

Quietly, and with no fuss, she told me simply, “I am too sick to travel.”

Ann was an altogether lovely person and a real lady in every way. We

in Viva miss her warmth of spirit, her gentle way, and her reassuring

presence. Other dogs now to come to rehearsals, and they remind us of

Ann’s big boy and Ann’s big heart.

Ann and Barbara passed away within three weeks of each other, in

December 2022. Their passing is a loss for Viva and for all of us Vivans.

We hope our Requiem performances reach them.

Viva la Musica!

Founded 2001

Viva’s mission is to provide enriching artistic experiences

by inspiring, educating, and entertaining with quality performances

of noteworthy music from diverse eras and cultures.

Repertoire

Classical and contemporary

Major works and miniatures

Choral, orchestral, and choral-orchestral

Multi-cultural and multi-media

Collaborations:

Master Sinfonia Chamber Orchestra—Beethoven Mass in C (2010),

Brahms Requiem (2012), Mendelssohn’s Die erste Walpurgisnacht (2018)

Symphony Parnassus—Karl Jenkins In These Stones Horizons Sing (2008)

Concert Tours

Carnegie Hall, New York (upcoming, June 22, 2025)

London and Bath (2023)

Carnegie Hall, New York (2019)

Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Helsinki, St. Petersburg (2017)

Prague and Dresden (2011)

Carneige Hall, New York (2009)

Carnegie Hall, New York (2008)

Vienna and Salzburg (2006)

Vermont International Choral Festival (2005)

Contact Viva

On the web: www.vivalamusica.org

Email: shu@machutch.com

Phone: 650-346-5084

On Facebook.com/VivalaMusica.org

Viva la Musica is a 501(c)3 non profit public benefit entity.

California Corporation #C2984278. Tax ID # 26-0338125.

Donations to Viva la Musica are tax-deductible to the full extent of the law.

Gratitude

Thank you to everyone who has donated to Viva la Musica this season.

Your gifts are the life-support of our organization,

and we Vivans greatly appreciate your generosity.

Thank you, also, to all who have volunteered during our season and for

today’s concert.

Banking and Bouquets

Carol Meyer

Front of House

Larry Keiffer, Pat Osborne, Nancy Osborne, Carole Cameron

LAUMC

Pastor Dirk Damonte

LAUMC LiveStream

Dylan Damonte

LAUMC Organ Advice

Craig Norris

Playbill Editing

Amy Jervis

Playbill Proof Reading

Carol Meyer, Joyce Wright

Publicity

Pat and Nancy Osborne

Rehearsal, Attendance & Data Collection

Lisa Reiche

Stage Management

Matthew Reeve

Viva Bookkeeping

Larry Keiffer

Viva Tax Preparation

Kevin McAuliffe

On the Requiem

Anna Khaydarova, collaborative pianist

Mozart is one of my favorite composers and

his Requiem has a very special place in my

heart. Our society expects us to feel strong

and content and happy at all times, but when

we listen to music we are allowed to feel

other emotions, without being afraid of being

judged. When I play or listen to the Requiem

I let myself feel sad and lonely. I am grateful

that I can perform this masterpiece; it brings

me closer to the music and to the composer

himself!

Lacrimosa is also one of the very few classical

pieces that my teenage daughter loves. She

often asks me to play it for her on the piano.

Thomas Alexander, concertmaster

The Mozart Requiem is one of only a handful

of pieces that has broad appeal for musicians,

devout classical audiences, and the general

public, alike. Why is that? Perhaps it is when

Mozart, who has given us “God’s laughter,”

now has us trembling in fear and on the edge

of our seats in the Dies Irae (“Day of Wrath”).

I imagine him staring into the abyss, and that

this is his musical account of what he saw,

heard, and experienced as he was dying.

The somberness and drama of text and music

ask us to reflect on life and death. When a

composer who excels at joviality, lightness, and

ease, takes a dark turn, we listen. It feels like Mozart is grabbing us by the

lapels. A wise musician once said of performing the warhorses of the canon:

“Play for the audience member for whom this is their first listen. Play for the

audience member for whom this is the last time they will hear it.” I can think

of no other piece for which that statement is more true.

For me, playing the Mozart Requiem is a journey of exploration—of our

mortality, suffering, and transcendence. It is a thrill to create the flames of woe

and the tears of mourning. It is an honor to work with Shulamit and Viva la

Musica as we bring life to this work. It is a joy to share it with you today.

Corey Head, tenor

The Mozart Requiem stands as one of

the most exquisite musical compositions

ever crafted. Although Mozart did not

complete the work before his early death,

it contains some of the last music he ever

composed. Recognizing the immense

significance of this masterpiece, his

students, assistants, and contemporaries

dedicated themselves to its completion.

Through their tireless efforts, they

took from Mozart’s verbal instructions,

personal writings, and outline sketches to

bring this work to fruition. Having had

the privilege of performing it numerous

times, I am constantly reminded of the countless individuals who have

contributed to its enduring legacy over the centuries. I recognize, every

time, I am privileged to have played a small part in its continuation and to

share this incredible work with others.

José Mendiola, bass

Among the many profound works that have

shaped my artistic and spiritual journey,

Mozart’s Requiem holds a special place in

my heart. The depth of the Latin text and

sacred writings that Mozart set to music

are a lens through which I reflect on the

human experience. Each time I revisit this

monumental work I am humbled by the

fragility of the human soul and the universal

yearning to preserve the memory of those

who have passed.

I extend my deepest gratitude to Viva la

Música and Shulamit Hoffmann for the

opportunity to collaborate on their Bon

Voyage Concert. As they embark on their

remarkable journey to Carnegie Hall, we celebrate their dedication and

wish them an unforgettable experience. Viva la Música!

Helene Zindarsian, soprano

I’m excited to be singing the Mozart

Requiem with Viva la Musica! I’ve performed

the piece not only as a soloist, but also as a

member of the soprano section, and I’ve had

the opportunity to sing some of its excerpts

as part of the background soundtrack to

the film Amadeus with the San Francisco

Symphony.

Each time I sing this piece, I marvel not

only at its enduring beauty (now 234 years

“young”), but also at the fact that when

Mozart wrote this – his final work–he was

only 35 years old. I have several favorite moments in the piece, but the first

eight measures of Lacrimosa are among the most poignantly beautiful to

me, the last musical theme that Mozart composed. The quality of the space

between the notes at the beginning of that long and gradually ascending

phrase seems to suggest the change in breathing one might hear in a dying

person. It’s as if those halting breaths gradually build to become one final

expression –­ striving further and then yielding to the wonder of whatever lies

beyond our knowledge of the human experience. I dedicate this performance

to my mother, who passed away last May.

Solmaaz Adeli, mezzo soprano

Singing the alto solo in this masterpiece

brings me so much joy and allows for

such musical depth – that is what is most

thrilling about performing a Requiem. As

a musician, you know that the composer

chose to compose a Requiem and that

informs all of the musical nuances and

context and subtext –­ Mozart’s, being one

of the most famous and beloved.

I sang the alto solo in Mozart’s Requiem

for the first time in Vienna, Mozart’s city

and “The City of Music!” I am honored to

perform again under the lively baton of Maestra Shulamit Hoffmann and

alongside the beautiful choir, Viva la Musica!