Рџћ¦ Pohrebnгў Svг¤tгў Omеўa Pгўna Organistu Milana Е Evдќгka Bez Гєдќasti Verejnosti Naеѕivo O 15:00 Рџ™џ Instant
The air in the village church was unusually still at 3:00 PM, a time when Milan Ševčík would usually be fussing with his sheet music or testing the pedals of the pipe organ. Today, however, the mahogany bench was empty.
As the first chord of the "Lacrymosa" filled the sanctuary, the family looked up. Through a single tripod set up near the altar, the service was being beamed out to the world. On hundreds of glowing screens across the district, neighbors and friends sat in their kitchens and living rooms, watching the livestream. They couldn’t be there to touch the casket or sing together, but as the organ’s pipes groaned and sang, they were united in the vibration of the music. The air in the village church was unusually
The priest began the Holy Mass, his voice sounding smaller than usual without the usual chorus of responses. But when it came time for the music, a young man—Milan’s grandson—stepped up to the loft. His hands trembled as he placed them on the keys his grandfather had polished with decades of use. Through a single tripod set up near the
