Canadian-spotting: 3 essential facts

[Birgitte Jorgensen <bj@kemmunet.net.mt>]

Jim Morrison wrote:
> So just what does give away the fact that someone is a Canadian in
LA?  They
> never wear a coat, like the natives do, when the temperature freezes
between
> 70 and 60 degrees?

Hmmm... certainly one famous Canadian would have been undetectable under
such circumstances.

Spotting Canadians who don't carry hockey sticks can be tricky. When,
more than a quarter of a century ago in Toronto, Mikhail Baryshnikov
defected from the Soviet Union following a performance at the O?Keefe
Centre, he had only the vaguest knowledge of Canada. Years later he
said: "I have to be honest. I knew precisely three things: Canada had
great hockey teams, it grew a lot of great wheat because the bread we
ate every winter was thanks to Canadian wheat, and Canada was where
Glenn Gould lived and worked. That was the extent of my knowledge of
Canada."  If only most people were that well-informed.

> Hey, can you guess that I don't like LA?  It's not as bad as I often
> make it sound, but I have so much fun complaining about it I can't
> stop.

I too confess to deriving perverse pleasure in teasing Angelenos, but I
suppose it?s hardly something to boast about when all the cliches make
it a rather facile target. Fortunately, you have a well-buffed sense of
humour. Out of curiosity, may I ask what you do like about LA, since you
obviously don?t submit to any of the region?s defining characteristics?
Or is it that LA is far more multi-faceted than it is typically given
credit for, and conceivably even has some redeeming values? Possibly LA
suffers from a case of cognitive dissonance: by allowing Hollywood to
define it to itself as well as to the world, it may lack a self-identity
rooted in genuine collective experiences.

> And wouldn't it be great to
> have more live recordings of Gould?
> Once again, sound quality not an issue.

But it was a central issue for him, and the unconstrained conditions of
recording a live concert would have deprived him of the control he so
prized in a studio situation.

> Anytime I hear about a person holing up like Gould did later in life,
I get
> nervous
> for them, being a firm believer that human beings thrive on contact
with
> others,
> and get decidedly strange when they don't have that contact.

I must respectfully quarrel with your assertion about Gould?s tenuous
connections to people on the grounds that it?s mythology. I think it is
a fundamental mistake to conclude that because he was reclusive he was
socially isolated. He was, in fact, in constant touch with many people,
not only on the telephone and by letter, but in his private life, in the
recording studio and elsewhere. I believe the image of monkishness that
attaches itself to him can be attributed  in no small part to his
conspicuous absence from the press-covered circuit of parties, concerts
(his and other people?s), openings, and other such public gatherings. In
his own albeit idiosyncratic way, he was actually a very social being.
Or put another way, the many barriers he erected around himself were
much more porous than they appear to myopic observation, such as that of
conventional would-be biographers. Although he guarded his private life
with uncommon fervor, he actually took us very deep into the core of his
humanity.

Had he continued to deaden his musical spirit with the repetitiveness of
on-stage performances and tainted his creative integrity in the circus
of celebrityhood, we would probably have a less inspired legacy of
recordings. I do agree with you, however, that he withheld from us (and
perhaps even himself) something vital by abdicating all concert-giving,
and much as I respect and even admire his stated reasons for that
withdrawal, I can?t help feeling that we missed something sonorously
potent and uplifting. Individuals for whom he continued to play on
occasion invariably cite his just-for-you performances as an
electrifying and unforgettable experience in their lives. Testimonials
by Tim Page and Judith Pearlman in Friedrich?s and Bergman?s books offer
two exhilarating examples of Gould?s personal charisma and immense power
at the keyboard when playing for an audience of one. (I imagine the
personal recital must be the most common Glenn Gould Fantasy among list
subscribers!)

Jim, you asked would it have killed him to do a few recitals a year in
Toronto? Metaphorically speaking, we must assume that, yes, it would
have killed something momentous in him. It seems that although he was a
born performer (by his own admission a ham), and the live recordings
bear out his prodigious gift for creating galvanizing music in the
concert arena, we are compelled nevertheless to accept the fact that his
decision, since it was entirely his own choice, was the right one.
Hence, there is unlikely to be "bad karma" at the Wilshire Ebell,
possibly just some deeply disappointed phantoms still moping under the
rostrum.

> You know what, thanks to your encouragement I think I'll do it, though
I am
> made a bit nervous by visiting places of last things.  I will try to
keep the
> celebratory aspect of this concert hall in mind.

That?s the spirit, if you?ll pardon the pun. Think of his last concert
as the beginning rather than the end of something, as we can be certain
Glenn Gould viewed it that way. Your idea of listening to the selections
of his actual 1964 performance before venturing into the Last Concert
Hall to mingle with the molecules is wonderful. (Spinal shiver.) Thanks
for doing that? I look forward to your "numinous" impressions.

Waiting with goosebumps,
Birgitte

P.S.

> **This is my nod of appreciation to a man I think is a good writer,
David
> Foster Wallace, who often investigates the minds of people that
compulsively complain or
> chatter away.

Aha! This explains why I like your presence on the list so much: Such
enthusiasm! Such energy! You speak and analyze and generally spin
dervishly on the head of a pin with the intensity of a David Foster
Wallace character (obviously, I am excluding the minds explored in Brief
Interviews With Hideous Men). Not coincidentally, DFW is one of my
favorite authors, and in my opinion his searing intelligence is
unequalled among English-speaking  writers for sheer synaptic speed. I
think he even makes a whiz-scribe like Martin Amis eat literary dust.