By JUDITH CLURMAN

On September 11, 2001, at 8:45 in the morning, my telephone rang. I was prepared to begin my daily meeting with Randy Neff, the manager of the Juilliard Choral Union at that time. Instead, he told me to turn on my television. I watched the awful events unfold that would forever change our city. From that fateful day, the Choral Union would be connected with 9/11 in many meaningful ways.

Obviously, we cancelled the rehearsal that week. The following week, after our regular Wednesday rehearsal, the chorus went to the firehouse around the corner from Juilliard and sang "America the Beautiful" for the emotionally drained firemen. The chorus also gathered and sang a couple of pieces at a memorial service at Temple Shaaray Tefila on Manhattan's Upper East Side. Then, in early October, Mayor Rudolph Giuliani's office invited the Choral Union to sing in the televised memorial, along with Andrea Bocelli, Andrew Lloyd Webber, the Orchestra of St. Luke's, and Renée Fleming. I will never forget standing on the stage, in the middle of the rubble, and looking at the faces of people who had lost their loved ones. It was a sight of anger, despair, and love. We didn't care that our clothes smelled terribly of ashes. When the Choral Union was invited to sing in a memorial service at the site a year later, the lingering odor of smoke was much improved, but the emotional impact was still as devastating as it had been the previous October.

Judith Clurman (far right) leading a Mozart Requiem Sing-Along in the Juilliard Theater in September 2002, on the first anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. (Photo by Peter Schaaf)

During the winter following the tragedy, I wondered what I could do for New York City on the anniversary of 9/11. I asked President Joseph Polisi if he would be open to the idea of having a community sing of the Mozart Requiem the following September. Plans were made and, in the early afternoon of September 11, 2002, the members of the Choral Union were joined by an orchestra comprising Juilliard students, faculty members, and administrators on the stage of the Juilliard Theater. President Polisi, a bassoonist, and Dean Stephen Clapp, a violinist, were among them. Every seat was taken, and there was a long line of people who did not make it into the theater. I entered the auditorium, overcome with emotion. I found myself conducting this powerful music, this eloquent Requiem, and felt total sadness. This is what making music is all about. It is not really about selling tickets, but rather, transporting people into another world. As I conducted, I watched the faces of the people who were singing. People clutched their scores, and they were singing their hearts out. Some were crying. I kept the music moving along at a steady pace. It was not an easy task. The words Dies irae, dies illa, solvet saeclum in favilla … ("The day of wrath, that day which will reduce the world to ashes …") suddenly took on new meaning.

Over the last five years, we have been reminded of that fateful day many times. There have been terrorist attacks and suicide bombers in every corner of our globe. Trains and subways have been targeted. Innocent people have been murdered. Many of us are ill at ease when we board a plane, or when we drive a car over a bridge or through a tunnel. It feels as if our world is falling apart. We need to sing the Mozart Requiem more than ever. And we will.

We are transporting the community sing to Carnegie Hall this year. Think about it for a moment: Carnegie Hall, Mozart, Juilliard students, faculty and staff members, New Yorkers coming together to sing and remember. I do not think there can ever be a more fitting and dignified tribute. I am certain that, just like in September 2002, this year's sing will be a highly emotional moment for all involved. I look forward to sharing this experience with you all at Carnegie Hall.

Judith Clurman is the School's director of choral activities and founder of the Juilliard Choral Union.