09.24
Bredonborough.
A grey day in Bredonborough.
Off to London & Ian Wallace’s Celebration.
20.54 Widow Wallace, Ian & I rendezvoused at Goodge Street tube, to catch up on news of Ian’s flying-away celebrations in Los Angeles. Margie was carrying Ian (more accurately, half of Ian’s ashes)…
The other half were given to the Pacific Ocean. A taxi to the Amadeus Centre in Little Venice…
The Amadeus Centre is a former Welsh Presbytarian chapel, now available for a variety of activities, including Subud meetings & BBC rehearsals.
During soundcheck, Ian was wrapped in Wallace tartan I…
II…
III…
From the drum stool…
Stage centre & forward, on a riser, was chosen as the most appropriate position for the leader of The Crimson Jazz Trio I…
II…
View from the band leader’s stool, behind the drums…
The gig was gentle & well-attended by quite a few of the usual suspects, and quite a few of the usual culprits. The Set List…
The running-order was changed a little at the last minute; the gig kicked off with In My Life a little late, because of stragglers & latecomers; but no slow handclaps, no shouts of get on with it! over the walk-in music: a very small selection of Ian’s life-work.
Ray Owen, a Humanist officer, welcomed the audience & presented a well-researched & excellent biographical overview of Ian’s life; Neil Innes gave an informative & humorous background to Ian’s work with him & sung A Friend At The End Of The Line; Tim Hinkley presented his tribute, followed by RF; Jakko Jakszyk sung Islands with Mel Collins on soprano, then Mel made his own personal tribute in words & a soprano sax solo (with breaks from Schizoid Man in the middle). Ian considered Mel the finest sax player of his generation, and I’m not the person to disagree. Jakko & Mel were both superb, musically & personally, at a hard gig. Further personal tributes were given, a Gibran poem read on behalf of Peter Sinfield & Jon Green, and a few moments of personal reflection. Then The Word played as walk-out music while usual suspects & usual culprits mingled.
A Celebration Of The Life Of Ian Wallace
Ladies & Gentleman, we are here to celebrate the life of Ian Wallace.
I
Brother Wallace was a professional musician. For those players more inclined to respond to the professional aspects of their calling, we might recognise in Ian’s death a cynical attempt to promote sales of the Crimson Jazz Trio.
Margie has asked me to bring your attention to the table at the back of the venue, where The CJT CD is available. Happiness With Minimal Side Effects is also on sale. Cash dealings are preferred, and each CD bought for cash signed by Ian (Margie has brought the stamper). Bookings are being invited for The Crimson Jazz Trio - err – The Crimson Jazz Duo; The 21st. Century Schizoid Band - The Guitar & Brass Tour - is already well advanced.
Death is a great career opportunity for the musician with a catalogue. For a live player, it’s a strategy with inherent limitations. So for King Crimson, there goes the reunion tour.
II
Ian Wallace was a man of faith: he believed that the power of music could give life value.
Few professional players retain, through a long career, their passion for music. The finest tribute I can pay to Ian, the musician, is to acknowledge that, after 40 years of professional life, his passion continued undiminished, Ian’s musicianship a reflection of his humanity.
In Ian’s playing, both as a young man and an older man, I never saw him, I never heard him, going through the motions. And, Ian’s playing was getting better.
A tribute to Ian, the human being, is the observation that over the period of 35 years in which I knew him, I saw no malice.
III
There are few things as convincing in life as death to remind of us of the immediacy and value of our lives, and the quality with which we live them.
There is no loss in a life well lived, and to its fullest extent. Perhaps, Ian’s life was not lived to the extent that was available.
But what do we know, standing where we are? Shortly before Pal Wallace flew away, Ian told Margie that he felt he was needed elsewhere. And I’m inclined to the view that Ian knew what he what he was doing, better than any of us; and I trust Ian’s sense of timing.
So, perhaps our loss is Ian’s gain; and may we trust the inexpressible benevolence of the Creative Impulse.
IV
Ian’s final diary entry on his website (where Happiness With Minimal Side Effects is still available by mail order & pre-orders are being accepted for the second volume of The Crimson Jazz Trio) was on Wednesday, December 27 at 3:38 in the afternoon. Ian writes…
I guess we’ll all look back on this in 50 years time and laugh...I know I will. And how was your morning? Just a little something to amuse you folks out there.
Ladies & gentlemen: Ian Wallace.
"Suffer cheerfully."
