The Vesperae solennes de Dominica or “Dominican Solemn Vespers” was among the very last music for the church that Mozart wrote while in residence at Salzburg. Archbishop Colloredo had required that Mozart not repeat text, keep his church music free from unnecessary effects, and always be subservient to the liturgy. For a composer of Mozart's gifts of expression, this must have been extremely difficult. There was precious little room for his creative imagination to take flight. Perhaps as a result of these constraints, he focused all of his energies straight-forward, and attempted to project all his pent-up energy toward rapid declamation of the text. There is palpable pressure, but always concentrated in a firmly muscular and life-affirming direction.

The title Dominican Solemn Vespers may actually be a misnomer according to Thomas Dunn, who has written that the correct title should be Vesperae Solennes de Confessore non Pontifice. He also suggests that the presently accepted title is actually from Leopold Mozart, the composer's father, presumably to help distinguish between the two sets of Solemn Vespers. Names notwithstanding, this extraordinary work, which unfairly languishes in the shadow of its better-known later twin – The Solemn Vespers of the Confessor – provides the model for the subsequent setting, yet yields nothing in spectacular choral energy and dramatic effect and rightly demands "equal time" from its performers and audiences.

The work begins without introduction, and plunges headlong in medias res. The first Psalm (110) begins in a radiant C major and is distinguished by vigorous declamations from both orchestra and chorus. Again without introduction, the second Psalm (111), set in e minor, begins at a more deliberate tempo with soprano solo answered by a very interesting triadic choral crescendo, complemented shortly by sequential falling sixteenths from the strings. Solo voices provide a calm moment near the middle, only to be interrupted by a forte choral interjection reminding us in a frightening unison of the "...terribile nomen ejus." The movement closes quietly, but retains its pervasive agitato feeling to the last note. The third Psalm (112) takes off with unflagging energy and is filled with the most extraordinary variety of dramatic and dynamic contrasts. Soloists regularly engage in animated dialogue with the chorus, but it's left to the chorus and orchestra to bring the movement to its affirmative "Amen."

Laudate Pueri, Psalm 113 – the psalm appointed for use on the 5th Sunday after Epiphany – is set in a sunny, bright F major stile antico imitative counterpoint. Key phrases of the text are illuminated and underscored by powerful choral homophony.

Psalm 117, Laudate Dominum, is set in A major as a brilliant Neapolitan-style concert aria for soprano solo, its high-spiritedness enhanced with a frisky organ obbligato. The bold and festive Magnificat in C major begins in slow tempo with themes and orchestration reminiscent of the much later Die Zauberflöte. Extrovert subito pianissimi for both chorus and orchestra twice interrupt the first word of the text, an effect which surely must have raised not a few Salzburgian ecclesiastical eyebrows! A vigorous interjection by trumpets and timpani brings us briskly back to earth, and we embark upon an extraordinary finale which, with its bustling strings and heightened dramatic writing for chorus and solo voices, could just as well be the close of an opera buffa. The action is soon interrupted by powerful unisons which lead to the "Gloria". And as in the best of opera finales, everything begins to converge, and with brilliant unisons for orchestra and chorus combined at the text "Amen," this marvelous work comes to an emphatic and life-affirming close.

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