At the very end of our magical visit — where one pleasant surprise surpassed the former — my siblings and I under wide, wide summer umbrellas by the terrace of our temporary home, we could not resist but recall the glory that was Vienna.
Then we suddenly noticed — just in front — a nondescript building, almost drab by comparison to everything else around. Modest, humble and seemingly out of place. There was a cross above the door, angels in relief. It drew our curiosity.
This was the Church of Saint Mary of the Angels — more commonly, the Capuchin Church, run by the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, a religious congregation known for poverty, for stripping away excess and for laboring among the less fortunate. A counterpoint.
Inside, a young man, kind and firm, met us and lost no time. He immediately asked, “Would we stay for a concert?” “A Little Night Music,” he proudly proclaimed. The performers: the Emperor Quartet Vienna, chamber musicians with long, distinguished careers, former members of well-known string quartets and piano trios, soloists who have won international competitions. The proposition: an hour of music, tickets to help preserve the house of prayer. And so my sisters, Ana Fe and Honey, and I agreed. “No photos during performances” was his reminder.
We soon claimed seats by the front pew. The church interior caught us off guard: several side altars nearly as dramatic as the main one. Gilded statues, altar steps of the finest marble! Not gaudy nor garish, a thing of pure beauty.
Ala siete en punto, sans string tuning in the background, without any announcement, the all-in-black quartet emerged with music sheets in one hand and their loved instruments in the other. No preamble, no prelude, no introductions — just music. The first notes rose into the nave, and we were caught in the sound.
The program unfolded like a survey of Vienna’s musical domain. It began, fittingly, with Mozart’s A Little Night Music in G major, KV 525, the light and lively serenade familiar, but sounding fresh within these walls. Haydn’s Emperor Quartet in C major Hob. III:77 followed, the noble strains which once served as an anthem for Austria itself. The sacred hush of Schubert’s Ave Maria D 839 seemed to suspend time, while Bruckner’s Locus iste WAB 23 evoked the solemnity of consecrated space.
A return to Mozart in selections from the Requiem KV 626 reminded us of mortality and transcendence, before the serenity of Bach’s Air from the Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D major BWV 1068 washed over the audience with its measured grace. The evening closed with Tchaikovsky’s Quartet in D major op. 11, its andante cantabile rooted in a Ukrainian folk song, played with a tenderness that resonated long after the final bow. Yes, two violins, one viola, one cello — no more, no less — yet enough to conjure entire worlds.
When it was done, they disappeared quietly into the side altars. A brief encore, then a prompt exit. Mesmerized, we lingered to take in what was around us. On our left was the Imperial Chapel, where statues of Habsburg rulers stood by the altar. On the other side stood the Pietà Chapel, with its life-sized marble altar. With clusters of white flowers, we noticed the resting place of Blessed Marco d’Aviano, the 17th-century Capuchin friar beatified in 2003.
The amiable gentleman who graciously sold us the tickets — and we’re glad he did — informed us that our admission likewise entitled us to a discounted visit to the Imperial Crypt below, where more than 140 members of the Habsburg dynasty are interred. We politely declined, for by then, our cup runneth over.
True to its proclaimed title, imperial Vienna showcased itself wherever we went. Even here, in a humble Capuchin church, the air was filled with emperors — the statues and sovereigns’ resting place, including music from those devoted to the emperors! Yet balanced against all that grandeur was simplicity: friars devoted to poverty, music offered for donations, an hour that was both timeless and fleeting.
¡Enhorabuena, Emperor Quartet Vienna!
