It started with Hans Werner Henze and Elliott Carter, and then the Grim Reaper ratcheted up his cruel tempo. By the end of one terrible day, December 5, Jonathan Harvey and Dave Brubeck were both gone. And within the next two weeks Ravi Shankar, Charles Rosen, Lisa Della Casa and Galina Vishnevskaya all followed, with Richard Rodney Bennett succumbing to that same gloomy trend on Christmas Eve.

But what does it mean for our culture, and for music, when a great musician passes? Most of these musicians had more than made their contribution. There was nothing left to achieve; all the arias had been sung, all the Take Fives had been played. Poor old Jonathan Harvey, struck down by motor neurone disease in his early 70s, is the sad exception. Listening to his 2006 orchestral Body Mandala, I mourned the injustice that a composer overflowing with creative vitality was denied his long and deserved Indian summer. Brubeck tempted fate in 2007 by releasing a solo piano album called ‘Indian Summer’; Elliott Carter’s Indian summer lasted nearly four decades, Ravi Shankar’s slightly less. Lives that were more fulfilled, that were more immense in their scope and influence, it’s hard to imagine. To invoke that old New Orleans funeral hymn – boy, didn’t they ramble.

My family and I were preparing to travel to Cape Town on December 5 when the news came through about Harvey and Brubeck. Deep personal sadness descended; I’m writing a book about Dave, Jonathan was a former teacher. And the day we arrived in Cape Town it was announced that Nelson Mandela, 94, had been admitted to hospital. Not a good time to be a revered guru, clearly.

In South Africa’s leading broadsheet, the Mail and Guardian, I read an insightful opinion piece about Mandela – I can’t remember the author’s name: sorry – that made me think afresh about the loss of these great musicians. When mortality finally catches up with Mandela, South Africa will collectively sob. Even the most charitable observers of the country’s current political leaders conclude that they are falling well short of the aspirations of 1994, when Mandela came to power. But here’s the point: Mandela’s extreme old age and failing health has kept him removed from public life for many years, and yet his continuing physical presence acts as a guarantor of post-Apartheid ideals. Some in South Africa think the country will instantly fall apart the moment Mandela dies. Not so the M&G’s columnist concluded – people will actually be minded to re-engage with his ideals.

These are troubled times for music, too. How do musicians hack a living in these straightened times? How should the recording industry deal with the challenges of downloads and streaming? How can individuals with important messages be heard over all that homogenised tat? The deaths of Brubeck, Shankar, Henze, Carter et al have greater meaning than mere nostalgia. That a group called the ‘Dave Brubeck Quartet’ existed until only 18 months ago rooted us in decades-old certainty; ditto continued Elliott Carter premieres and mesmerising Ravi Shankar performances. They were cultural guarantors; no matter what, music always wins.

And with their passing? Well, music isn’t going to fall apart. Musicians of that consequence laid foundations which made sure of that. And the best way to celebrate them is to reflect upon their idealism and creative purpose; lessons aplenty as too much music today sounds like a lazy by-product of cynical corporate desperation.