I am not sure how Edgard Varese would have felt about that, but John Cage would be pretty keen, and Zappa would probably have loved it.
I imagine he would also have been enthusiastic about the blonde in tight red trousers and high heels who was first on stage with her horn and was later seen damping the resonance of a large gong with her pert posterior during the pivotal performance of Varese's Ionisation, played twice, on either side of the interval.
For that the ensemble became a massed band of percussionists, its complex conversation (seemingly even more effective the second time through), requiring the appearance of clarinettist Carl Rosman in conductor role.
Before that we had heard two contrasting sides of Cage: the playful Credo in US, with flautist Helen Bledsoe dropping snatches of a vinyl recording of the Rite Of Spring into a score that mixed minimalist repeated figures with boogie blues, followed by the more challenging single long notes per instrument and percussion scrapings of Seven, which proved the composer still has the power to alienate some people.
They had come to hear the Zappa, and had a brief taste of it at the start before it took over the second half. This ensemble don't just play the music, in the most entertaining way, they also gently explain it, with trombonist Bruce Collings the MC through three incarnations of fiendishly hard The Black Page, culminating in "the easy teenage Edinboro Festival version".
That was followed by the through-composed solos-and-all big band jazz of RDNZL before the players had the chance to wig-out on their own account on the group's (uncredited) arrangements of live Zappa band favourites.
This was the sound of the EIF letting its hair down.