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The Ecstasy and Tragedy of Genius
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