[Date Prev][Date Next][Thread Prev][Thread Next][Date Index][Thread Index]

The Listener as Artist



HEALTH ADVISORY:  Anyone who lives in the fantasy world of orthodoxy or who is an extreme musician may well, on reading this message, suffer severe physical or mental breakdown.

As I think back about the conversation amongst f_minors over the last few weeks, I begin to suspect that few of us have read Gould--not read about him and all his eccentricities, but actually read his own writings.  In particular, how many f_minors have read what is, by far, his most significant article, "The Prospects of Recording"?

This is by way of introduction to some thoughts on Gould's orthodoxy.  Gould saw himself as as composer as much as a performer, and part of the opportunity to be both arose from the possibilities that recording technology offered him to create a performance that never was given nor ever could be given.  From the alteration of his pianos, to the choice and placing of mikes, to the selection of which tracks to use for which bars of music, to alterations in the mix on mutli-track recording machines, in all these ways, besides his actual interpretation in the performance of a work, Gould created or composed a piece instead of faithfully reproducing it, whatever that might mean.  Gould's attitude was why slavishly reproduce a composition given the technology that enables us to "play" around with it?  Indeed, one might also say, why have performances by different musicians at all if there is one orthodox and perfect performance?  Why not feed the score into a computer and presto! there it is, a note perfect performance with all the correct tempi just as the composer wrote it.  His "playing" with scores, however, was authorized by other considerations than those of technological opportunity.  Composers' own performances of their works are often unsatisfactory or bizarre as compared to the performances by great artists and conductors.  There are metronome markings in Beethoven that no one believes.  I am a big Mahler fan and have multiple recordings of all the works.  All are different.  Rattle recently released a recording of the Third Symphony in which he seems to me to play havoc with the tempi in the final few majestic closing bars of the last movement.  At first I thought--well, file that one away.  But, on repeated listening I found that it worked and it will now join the select company of Bernstein and Haitink.  Whose performance is right?  I don't know and I don't care.  All these performances inspire, transport and comfort and that is all that matters for me.  They sound right.  And given that Bruckner altered his symphonies so often, could any conductor ever be accused of giving a wrong interpretation (as opposed to a bad or unlistenable one) of one of his scores?  As Gould also points out, orthodoxy is essentially a social construct. Our ears are trained in the matter of standards of performance by teachers and by performances we have heard in the past that have impressed us.  The clarity of modern recordings in which all instruments are heard distinctly has meant that we  expect to hear a different sound in the concert hall, which is one of the reasons that designing the acoustics for a hall is a bit of a nightmare these days.  There is, my friends, no Platonic ideal interpretation that applies for all of us.  The point, finally, is that the interpreter/listener may well understand a piece better than the composer, just as other people may know us better than we do ourselves.

As Gould readers will know, Gould's great hope was that we, the listeners, would actually be able to share in the opportunity to transform a performance through the use of new technology.  This is why he so enthusiastically embraced digital technology in its infancy when, let's face it, its sound was inferior to analog and vinyl recordings.  But the possibilities it offered were so great.  We would eventually be able to mix and match different tracks from different performances by the same artist or several artists; alter the order of their playing (and, after all, composers were known themselves to alter the order), alter pitch, alter balances so as to bring out some voices in a performance, while recessing others; delete or add repeats; and perhaps even alter tempi.  And of course we all can alter the sound through treble and bass gains.  So, not only did Gould think that performers should be free to re-create or re-compose a composition, but listeners should be able to re-create the re-creation.  As Gould puts it, "The audience would be the artist and their life would be art."  Gould, in  a sense, was the least self-centered of artists; he wanted to empower us, the listeners; he wanted us all, however much we might be extreme non-musicians, to be artists, performers and composers.  How selfless can you be?

So, finally, a question for the folks at dna.  To what extent do you think Gould's ideals have been realized or can be realized?  Does your New Listener (a very appropriate title I now realize) actually realize any of these possibilities?  And can the CD-ROM only be ordered from you or has it been shipped to stores?

If anyone has actually read this to its end, my thanks.  I was getting rather tired of reading about Helfgott, Tureck et al and thought it about time to start discussing this giant amongst pianists again.  And I urge all f_minors to obtain a copy of Tim Page's The Glenn Gould Reader.  It will provoke, anger, stimulate and make you laugh out loud.  Without this book at your bedside, you simply cannot even begin to appreciate the half of Gould's incredible achievements.  Although we are using advanced technology, we are still reading and I fear too few of us are reading.

Think about this:  Gould was one of the great liberators and freedom fighters of our age.  Like Blake he never ceased from mental fight and that fight was present in his music, his documentaries and his writings.  They all complement one another and you cannot appreciate Gould without encountering him in all his creative dimensions.

            Allan