Uploaded March 2011 | Updated September 2026, 21 hours ago
AFTERWORDS for clarinet, cello, and piano
PERI MAUER-Composer
Gilad Harel, clarinet
Steve Beck, piano
Alistar MacRae, cello
AFTERWORDS was composed in 2007, and recorded that same year at Juilliard.
"In loving memory of my father, Arnold Mauer, April 5, 1919-March 9, 2006." Peri Mauer
[Video by Randolph Pitts]
AFTERWORDS for clarinet, cello, and piano
PERI MAUER-Composer
Gilad Harel, clarinet
Steve Beck, piano
Alistar MacRae, cello
AFTERWORDS was composed in 2007, and recorded that same year at Juilliard.
"In loving memory of my father, Arnold Mauer, April 5, 1919-March 9, 2006." Peri Mauer
[Video by Randolph Pitts]





![Edison Denisov, Symphony [No.1], USSR Ministry of Culture Orchestra, Rozhdestvensky
It seems to me that one of the greatest values of music is its spiritual power, its ability to carry a great spiritual charge. Music carried this charge during pre-Bach and Bach epochs, as well as for some time afterwards (Mozart, Brahms). In the 20th century, this charge was, to a considerable degree, lost. During our lifetime, for a long while, the loss of spiritual values has progressed, - or their leveling, or even a negative attitude to them revealed by the growth of so-called atheism - a phenomenon very dangerous to mankind. I remember Shostakovich telling me a few times a year or two before his death: Earlier, there were ten commandments: thou shall not kill; thou shall not steal; thou shall not seduce your neighbors wife; etc. But now we have just one single commandment - do not violate the purity of the teaching of Marx and Lenin. A lot of artists perceived the leveling of spiritual values and their replacement by false values. In music - both in academic and in new - there is a lot of what we may call bluff. Currently, even some prominent names, experiencing intense professional scrutiny closely follow all the slightest changes of fashion - and, since they possess a certain technique and skills in the application of cliché, they often deceive the audience. Take the great artists of the past - Mozart, Bach, or Brahms; from Russian music, take Mussorgsky, Glinka, Tchaikovsky. Those never cheated the audience, never fooled anyone - they were always honest and sincere. At present, unfortunately, the idea of honesty often disappears from art. Even significant composers, and to a much greater extent, artists, often indulge in bluffing, whereas the audience, having lost the criteria, takes this bluff at face value.
In our society, false art has often substituted true one. There was a long period when the true art was suppressed, whereas false art was hailed, presented as true, and the entire mass media industriously persuaded the people that this was true art. This was how, in particular, they managed to fend the people off the concert hall. When before the war, Soviet music was played, people went to listen to it. In the 20s, concert halls were packed. Nowadays, one has to organize the audience; there is even an expression, filling groups. Once there was an authors concert of some secretary-composer, related to his nomination for the Lenin award. I asked a clarinetist from the State Orchestra: How was the concert? And he told me: It was wonderful - one to five. - What do you mean? - Fifty people on the stage, ten in the stalls. This is a standard picture. Here also lies one of the reasons for the fact that opera houses, especially provincial ones, stay empty. For a long time, all had been done to divert the public from art.
Unlike some other composers who got carried away by serialism, I have never rejected intention, because purely abstract reasoning deprived of any intentional content, makes music more superficial. One may compose a lot of good pieces, but they will be, so to say, beautiful musical architecture with very little spiritual content. For example, I appreciate Xenakiss music, but objectively speaking, it is very superficial - it has almost no psychological content. In a sense, this is objective music. If we attribute Xenakis to French music, he will appear to continue the tradition of Roussel and Varèse, but in no way is he even close to Debussys tradition. To me, other things are more appealing. In my opinion, Debussy is one of the greatest composers of the twentieth century. I think that he is even more innovative, if we use this word, than Stravinsky or Webern - but Debussys innovations do not lie on the surface. In Stravinskys music, the new immediately strikes you; whereas one initially takes Debussy as very traditional. However, when you start to analyze, you see that he was a much more daring thinker than many of his contemporaries. In this respect, Debussys music, in his best pieces, like Pelleas and Melisande, is to me as promising as Mussorgskys music - which was really appreciated almost one hundred years after [his death], or possibly has not yet been appreciated even today.
Edison Denisov
Denisov was born in Tomsk, Siberia into the family of a radio-physicist, who gave him the very unusual first name Edison, in honour of the great American inventor. He studied mathematics before deciding to spend his life composing. This decision was enthusiastically supported by Dmitri Shostakovich, who gave him instructions in composition. Edison Denisov, Symphony [No.1], USSR Ministry of Culture Orchestra, Rozhdestvensky](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/xiH4u8B_glg/mqdefault.jpg)
![Sopwith Camel - You always tell me baby, Maybe in a dream
The earliest San Francisco bands, The Great Society (Grace Slicks first group), The Charlatans, and The Sopwith Camel, experimented with many musical styles pop and classical; Western and Non-Western. Here are two examples of such experimentation from The Sopwith Camels first album, recorded in 1966 and 1967 (re-released on CD as Frantic Desolation.) You always tell me baby apparently got some air play in France. Here are some excerpts from an interview with the Camels producer, Eric Jacobson, and Peter Kraemer, principal singer, lyricist and wind player:
Wed formed around the same time as Big Brother & The Holding Company (pre-Janis)... in fact, we got together in the same room. It started out with me and Terry, who Id met at a hangout called the Big Little Bookstore on Polk Street in San Francisco, writing songs together. So the Camel was evolving at a time when there was very little rock in the city. In 1964, I shared a house on Page and Masonic with a thespian called John McIntyre (later manager of the Grateful Dead). I lived at one end of the attic and a girl called Laurie had the other end... and I should guess there were less than a dozen longhairs in the whole of San Francisco.
Then, one day, Chet Helms came to town; hed just got out of El Paso jail, where hed been held on suspicion of being involved in the assassination of President Kennedy! The only basis for his arrest had been the length of his hair... its true!
Anyway, that house was a sort of nucleus in the developing San Francisco psychedelic scene. The first rock dances were in the basement of 1090 Page, which was organized by Chet all the longhairs used to go there. It was an amazing experience for me, because I knew just about every single person in the place and there were three or four hundred people! There was such a spirit at those gigs... I cant tell you!
Mind you, the San Francisco thing happened soon afterwards and eventually most of that core of 400 people moved out... I can walk around now and not know a soul.
Artie Ripp, from Kama Sutra, who were putting out our records, came into the studio [in New York] the day that I had a temperature of 102. We were finishing up Postcard from Jamaica (the only tune we managed to write at the Albert Hotel in New York), and I was having to use three microphone stands: two to support me as I sang in the general direction of the third. I had bronchitis, actually. Anyway, Artie, who came in to see how his boys were doing, thought I should go to the Luxor Uptown Mens Club sauna baths to get myself in shape. So at two in the morning, we left Bell Studios and Artie Ripp just leapt out in front of some limousine, flagged it down, and gave the guy 20 bucks to take us to this sauna bath . . . .
(Interview with Peter Kraemer, Zizzag Magazine. Date unknown.)
[In a radio interview on KMPX, San Francicso, on the release of their first album, members of the Sopwith Camel commented that this two tracks were most representative of the music the work they were doing at that time. Shortly thereafter the group broke up, to reform in the early 1970s to record their second album, The Miraculous Hump Returns from The Moon. If you search on YouTube under SopwithCamelExtant or the account of Nandi Devan (fka Terry MacNeil) you will find some fine videos from the current incarnation of this band, still rocking in 2011. They continued to play until around 2017. I always attended the annual Halloween show they did at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco and you will find videos on my channel filmed there by me of two songs not on their albums, both favorite of mine: Look Into My Heart (aka The Chant) and Leave the Light on for Linda) Sopwith Camel - You always tell me baby, Maybe in a dream](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/yU2Saf1EKlc/mqdefault.jpg)
