Do we yearn, openly or in secret, for a simpler age we've had to leave behind?  Back
in the spring of 2003 I invented an alter ego, the zany musicologist Peter Ceniti, and
he in turn began "discovering" works by an imaginary 19th c. composer he called
Heinrich von Ofterdingen.  Ceniti established a goofy Gesellschaft, and  its members
developed the theory that Ofterdingen's work has leaked from another universe,
parallel to ours - a world with a happier history, including a musical heritage rich and

Through these masks (Andreacchi become Ceniti, Ceniti become Ofterdingen) it
became possible again to aspire to the beautiful, to sing of love, while the
transparency of the endeavor is a source of humor, a humor that acknowledges the
limits of art and of ourselves.

But this is more than a nostalgic indulgence: in conceiving an alternate past we loosen
the bonds of a dark inheritance, enabling a brighter future, while, paradoxically, it's in
the midst of (even a fabricated)  tradition that I find my singular voice.