I think I had already had such ideas as far as the fusing of life and art went and they came to me from my study of Zen Buddhism with Suzuki. I had also thought of the silent piece two years before I wrote it. And the reason I did not write it when I thought of it was because I was aware that many people would take it as a joke and not seriously.

That was why, when I saw the empty paintings of Rauschenberg, I was prepared to have, as it were, a partner in this serious departure from conventions. The French would call it démarche. In other words, I don't think I was influenced by him—I was encouraged in something that I was already convinced about individually.

I first heard Maderna's music around 1957—I think, his style had matured by then and his personality had grown independent from Darmstadt. The encounter with Maderna's art helped me a great deal—it gave me courage to make a big leap forward. I was ready for it intuitively but lacked self-confidence.

A few years before, a painter had influenced me in a similar manner. I was insecure; I did not know how to master the serial technique. One day, I came face to face with pictures by Alberto Burri—I bought two on the spot.