I’ve always been of the belief that full acceptance and appreciation of any form of music isn’t achieved until it is communicated by an artist of the listener’s own generation. You can study the past masters and try your best to understand their histories and instincts. But it’s not until someone has absorbed a style of music, reshaped it with their own interpretive spin and offered it to the ears of their audience as something new that musical traditions truly connect, live and flourish.
That has been the case numerous times with me, especially with jazz. But one very specific instance was the work of Japanese electronic music pioneer Isao Tomita, who died last week at the age of 84. It wasn’t so much Tomita’s immensely animated creations on synthesizers that struck me at first, but rather his interpretive skill. While he would go on to create masterful compositions of his own, his 1974 debut album, Snowflakes Are Dancing, opened the doors for me to the music of Claude Debussy. Within Tomita’s world of keyboards, Claire de Lune sang like a comic lullaby, Reverie became a quiet but enormously emotive meditation and the gorgeous Engulfed Cathedral came alive the way some fantasy creation of Hollywood would, defying time and invention in every note. Generations have been enchanted by Debussy for ages, but Tomita made such music resonate with me by sending French impressionism straight into outer space.
Tomita would devote subsequent albums to the works of Mussorgsky, Stravinsky, Holst, Ravel and, in a wonderful but overlooked 1982 recording of The Grand Canyon Suite – Grofe. But it was the reinvention of Debussy over 40 years ago on Snowflakes Are Dancing that proved a gateway to a glorious, but previously unexplored musical world. For that alone, Tomita will always be a hero.