[continued]
Ionisation is not only the first serious composition for an all-percussion ensemble, it is a study of the structure, grammar, and expression of musical communication beyond the conventional realm of pitch. It is not without pitches, but without definite pitches, having associate and relative pitches that are not part of the Western European tradition. But it is much more than a work illustrating a novel theoretical concept. It is an exciting, vital masterpiece that has gripped audiences. Yet few musicians recognize the historic role of this piece. Varèse was a generation ahead of his time when he wrote it. Beyond pitches and other parameters, it is a composition fundamentally conceived for primarily non-Western instruments, organized with rhythms derived from the performance techniques of each such instrument. We have yet to find a more intercultural composition.
Not surprisingly, Varèse turned out to be a universal composer, despite his deep roots in France. After his arrival in the United States in 1915, he spent years introducing the significant European composers of the time to Americans. In the summer of 1948, invited to give a series of lectures at Columbia University, he consulted as many composers as possible to incorporate their views… He was extraordinarily willing to meet young composers and go to their concerts, so much so that I had to warn him not to take too much time away from his own work. But he enjoyed people, and his influence was certainly not limited to his scores and recordings.
Varèse composed only for himself, but who can blame him for being obsessed with the insults hurled at him and feeling the need to prove himself at every turn? The first performance of Déserts at the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées in Paris in 1954 was a tragic blow to him. Nevertheless, despite the magnitude of that scandal, it was only one in a long series of disappointments that had dogged his life. And it is a lesson in understanding Varèse. He belonged to no one, no country, culture, school, or trend. His legacy belongs to the world. Any assessment of his music and influence based on national and stylistic considerations does him a disservice.
It was August 31, 1965. I was asked to go to the Varèse house. Louise, alone, began to talk. They both felt that it was time to ask me if I would take care of his music, should anything happen to him. I immediately agreed. Then, as if on cue, Varèse came in. We confirmed it briefly, and sat around chatting a while. I left thinking that their prudence had been laudable and thought no more about it, feeling sure that nothing would happen to him for a long time to come.