Music, in the sense of a game played by society, assumes knowledge of the rules. I compose in a tonal idiom, and the basic rules of that ‘game’ seem to be instinctively grasped by almost everyone.

The name of René Leibowitz is widely known; but at the same time, rather like that of Ferruccio Busoni, it evokes general bewilderment, a reaction of ‘Yes, know the name, but who is he?’ This is due in part to his wide range of activities, but it is also due to the paradox which pervades his work, thought and life. Like Busoni, Leibowitz was the all-important link between one epoch in music and another. He has had a profound, deep-running influence over almost all musical endeavour today, through his profuse writings, his 35 years of teaching, his conducting and his compositions—but most, perhaps, through his profound beliefs and the way he lived them to their utmost expression. That influence, although it was and remains deeply felt, has gone to a great extent unrecognized because it is subtle, not sensational.