The inspiration for this work came from several sources that impressed me profoundly and merged into a single experience. I listened to music. I read Goethe’s Faust. I walked the dark streets of the city lingering every now and then to stare at the bright-lit windows, yes, I admit that I did. And then the night shared its secret with me, it opened up to me, layer by layer. First layer, down below, on the sidewalk: the play of shadow and light; security guard keeping watch, a tired waitress smoking.  The electric light of the café windows, the late night crowd behind them, those who sleep all day but will perk up as night falls; real people, I see a lot of those. Boutique windows with mannequins in them, a cleaning lady sleeping. Above these there are layers of windows, some dark, some brightly lit, something is happening behind them, but whether those scenes are real or whether it’s the moon that’s dreaming them up, we wouldn’t know. Higher still, on the roof flooded with the cool silvery moonlight, the sculpture of Zeus has come to life and, egged on by the sylphs, is staring shamelessly at a woman who is combing her hair, while a jealous Hera glares behind his back. Over and above it all, an enormous Moon penetrates the night with its silver rays revealing all things mystical. The glowing deity of the moon watches the earth, a huge mirror reflecting on the night life. Night has brought out its orchestra: the musicians are discernable in the rays of moonlight. The horned Pan conducts the orchestra. Welcome the triumphant music of the night, Serenade No 13. Allegro.