The Ecstasy and Tragedy of Genius

[preet@techsan.com]

I found this wonderful review of Peter Ostwald's book (The Ecstasy and
Tragedy of
Genius) in the London Times.



   Glenn Gould: The Ecstasy and Tragedy of
                 Genius
             by Peter F Ostwald
             Norton #20 pp368

              Anthony Storr


  Glenn Gould was a wonderfully gifted pianist
  and a grossly neurotic eccentric. His
  biographer, Peter Ostwald, who died in 1996,
  was a professor of psychiatry at the
  University of California, and also an
  accomplished violinist who played chamber
  music all his life. He wrote several books,
  including one on Nijinsky, but is probably
  best known in this country for Schumann:
  Music and Madness, the excellent biography
  of the manic-depressive composer he
  published in 1985.

  Ostwald was a friend of Gould, and played
  Bach, Mozart and Beethoven sonatas with
  him. He was, therefore, uniquely well
  qualified to be the biographer of this
  particular pianist. This is a first-class
  biography which supplements, but does not
  replace Geoffrey Payzant's Glenn Gould:
  Music and Mind (1978), which was written
  while the pianist was still alive.

  Gould was born in Toronto in September,
  1932. Both his parents were musical, and it is
  clear that his mother perceived the child's
  potential from the beginning. Gould was a late
  and only child, born to a mother in her forties.
  As soon as he could sit, she propped him up
  between herself and the piano keyboad,
  encouraging the tiny boy to strike single notes.
  By the time he was three, his sense of perfect
  pitch enabled him to identify any note that was
  played to him, and he became able to read
  music before he could read words. He first
  played in public when he was five.

  Gould retired from public performance in
  1964, when he was 32, and at the height of his
  fame. He never conquered his dislike of being
  stared at by audiences. This fear of other
  people manifested itself when he first went to
  school, where he avoided social contact and
  was petrified by games, fearing that even
  picking up a ball would damage his hands.
  The piano became his retreat from the world,
  and the worst punishment his parents could
  inflict was to lock it. Gould was also notably
  prudish and a late developer sexually. He
  remained closely attached to his mother until
  her death in 1975, which Ostwald describes
  as "probably the most traumatic event of
  Glenn's entire life". Although Gould remained
  single, there is evidence that he did, from time
  to time, become infatuated with various
  women.

  Gould's fame as a pianist spread throughout
  the world when he first recorded Bach's
  Goldberg Variations in 1955. This recording
  has never been deleted, and continues to sell
  in spite of Gould's subsequent recording of the
  same work shortly before his death. Although
  musicians jib at some of his eccentric
  readings, and complain of his habit of singing
  while playing, most recognise Gould's talent
  for bringing out the inner voices in
  contrapuntal music, his intense rhythmic
  vitality, and his exceptional clarity of
  articulation. I am surprised that Ostwald does
  not comment on Gould's hands. Most pianists
  have short, powerful-looking fingers; but
  Gould's, although certainly powerful, were
  long, almost spidery.

  As Gould grew older, he withdrew more and
  more from direct contact with people.
  However, he had no scruples about
  telephoning his friends at great length at two
  or three in the morning. He remained severely
  hypochondriacal, constantly dosing himself
  with sedatives and other drugs, and repeatedly
  consulting various doctors. When he was
  diagnosed as having hypertension, he took his
  own blood pressure every hour of every day.
  His anxiety about catching cold led to his
  wrapping himself in sweaters, mufflers, and
  gloves, even in warm weather. His fear of
  live performance led to his becoming an
  expert on recording techniques and an
  enthusiast for radio and television. Unlike
  most performers, he relished being able to
  edit and re-edit his taped recordings, because
  this enabled him to eliminate the anxiety
  inseparable from live performance.

  Gould remained an intensely anxious person
  throughout his life, and was never at ease until
  he felt that he was in total control of what was
  going on. He shared with Freud obsessional
  superstitions about numbers. In December
  1959, he suffered a paranoid episode in which
  he alleged that people were spying on him,
  talking about him and sending him coded
  messages. He died at the age of 50, from an
  uncommon variety of stroke.

  Although Gould was intensely self-absorbed,
  he could also be good company. He was
  well-read, highly intelligent, and a prolific
  writer. Ostwald thanks him at the end of this
  enthralling biography for "sharing so much
  with me - his playing, his conversations, his
  telephone calls, his humour, his charm, his
  originality, and his problems".

  Gould recorded piano works by Richard
  Strauss, Bizet and Sibelius which other
  pianists generally avoid, as well as leaving
  some bizarre recordings of Beethoven and
  Mozart. These are unlikely to survive; but his
  records of Bach's keyboard music will always
  be treasured.

  Anthony Storr's Feet of Clay: A Study of
  Gurus is published by HarperCollins