From Amazon
Glenn Gould played opening night of his 1957 Soviet Union tour to a half-full audience. During intermission, many listeners, astounded by what they had heard, telephoned their friends. By the performance's second half, the hall was full. One Russian musician in attendance remarked that 40 years later, he was still convinced Gould was an alien, that people couldn't play the piano like that. Glenn Gould: A Life in Pictures celebrates the pianist's genius with such fond remembrances, brief critical assessments, and--most significantly--more than 200 photos, many never seen before. Cellist Yo-Yo Ma provides the foreword, describing Gould's mind as a "shimmering prism through which sounds, senses and ideas were magically transfigured." The main body of the book is divided into four chronological sections: "Overture," "Bursting Forth," "New Horizons," and "Envoi." Gould's childhood is the subject of the first section of the book. In his introduction, Washington Post music critic Tim Page paints Gould as a supremely talented boy, already "capable of dazzling professional musicians." The photographs reveal a fairly conventional, if pampered, upbringing. Section two depicts the artist of popular imagination, rich with idiosyncrasies: his piano chair with its sawed-off legs, his penchant for soaking his arms and hands in warm water, the heavy clothing he wore year-round. At the age of 17 he first performed in a studio for the CBC. He discovered "that in the privacy, the solitude of the studio, it was possible to make music in a more direct, more personal manner than any concert hall would ever permit." The studio, where Gould spent the majority of his career, is represented in part three. The final section, "Envoi," is a short series of photos showing the apartment and studio Gould left behind as well as four final moody shots of the artist. Fans will certainly appreciate this veil-lifting look at one of the greatest musical minds of the 20th century. --Moe Berg
From Publishers Weekly
Master cellist Yo-Yo Ma and Pulitzer Prize–winning music critic Page (The Glenn Gould Reader) provide the text for this large-format collection of photographs assembled by publisher Lester, former manager of the Glenn Gould Foundation and current literary adviser to the Glenn Gould Estate. Arranged more or less chronologically, these pictures span the entirety of Gould's brief life (1932–1982) and provide a unique perspective into his creativity as a pianist, composer and recording artist. The book is divided into four sections: in Overture, childhood snapshots reveal the growth of a keyboard prodigy; Bursting Forth soars with early accolades and triumphant tours; New Horizons depicts the mid-1960s, when Gould abandoned concerts to explore the possibilities of the recording studio; and Envoi uses scenes of his silent studio to depict his death, an age 50 finale. As the pictorial parade marches on, the result is like watching an old 16mm documentary film unspool, and Gould's fervor, evident in the photos, is amplified in attractive, appealing layouts. (Sept.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to the Paperback edition.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to the Paperback edition.
Review
Glenn Gould was born in Toronto, on September 25, 1932 to parents Bert and Florence Gould. His musical talents were noticed at an early age, and his mother began to teach him when he turned three. Gould studied at the Toronto Conservatory of Music from 1942-6. Tim Page writes, in his Introduction to this delightful and touching collection of photos that Gould’s professional career began in 1945, when “he played Bach, Mend elssohn and Dupuis on the organ in Toronto’s Eaton Auditorium.” That performance was quickly followed by others at Massey Hall with the Toronto Conservatory Orchestra, and with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra (Jan, 1947), and then by many more in Toronto, Hamilton and London, Ontario. On December 24, 1950, Gould played sonatas by Mozart and Hindermith in the studio of the Canadian record, “a ten-inch LP on the Hallmark label, featuring a performance of Alban Berg’s Broadcasting Corporation, and was heard live across Canada. In 1953, Gould released his first commercial Piano Sonata, opus I, and three duets with the Canadian violinist Albert Pratz.” And on January 2, 1955, Glenn made his tremend ously successful American debut at the Phillips Gallery in Washington, D.C. David Oppenheim, the director of Columbia Masterworks (later Sony Classical) one of the two largest US record companies, signed Gould to an exclusive contract the day after his New York performance. That first recording became known as the Goldberg Variations.
All this is standard Gould history, which isn’t to say that Page has done something wrong by including it (and much more) in his introduction. On the contrary, for younger readers or those only recently becoming acquainted with Gould’s music, the facts about Gould’s life—his early success, his concerts and growing fame, and his later recording career—are essential and establish a context for the photos and quotes by and about Gould. Gould was a remarkable musician, composer, conductor, and musicologist. His life and music are well worth reading about. And since the 200 photos in this book—many of which have never been published, some coming from the archives of the CBC, Sony Classical, and the National Library of Canada—offer both an intimate view of the person and a chronology his professional activities, A Life in Pictures is certainly worth looking at.
Lastly, I want to make certain I didn’t create a false impression. The writing in Tim Page’s Introduction is engaging, not at all dry, and conveys an understanding of Gould’s artistic and intellectual gifts. Here is a sample:
“Gould’s first recording of the Goldbergs heralded a new approach to Bach—one that combined the stark, separate contrapuntal voicings so easily delineated on the harpsichord with the tonal colour and dynamic calibration available from the modern piano. Never before had the composer’s music been played with such dazzling and incisive virtuosity. Yet underlying the technical flamboyance was evidence of a remarkable cerebral intensity.”
Page aims to give an unsentimental, and at times, penetrating account of Gould’s life and personality, one that does justice to the captivating individual shown in the photographs. He writes:
“Gould was paradoxical in the extreme, and almost any statement one makes about him can be contradicted by another that is equally valid. He made some of the best recordings of his time and (as he himself admitted) a few of the worst. He lived a life of monklike austerity, yet he was one of the jolliest and most spontaneous telephone companions imaginable. He was an individualist who prized rectitude and puritanical moral values, yet he considered himself a socialist and was skeptical of religious dogma. He frowned upon alcohol as weakness and indulgence, yet relied upon the generous consumption of tranquilizers. He loathed ostentatious Romantic effusion, yet esteemed Richard Strauss as the greatest of twentieth-century composers. He was reclusive and retiring, yet he wanted to be heard, be seen, be felt everywhere.”
Olga stein (Books in Canada) -- Books in Canada
All this is standard Gould history, which isn’t to say that Page has done something wrong by including it (and much more) in his introduction. On the contrary, for younger readers or those only recently becoming acquainted with Gould’s music, the facts about Gould’s life—his early success, his concerts and growing fame, and his later recording career—are essential and establish a context for the photos and quotes by and about Gould. Gould was a remarkable musician, composer, conductor, and musicologist. His life and music are well worth reading about. And since the 200 photos in this book—many of which have never been published, some coming from the archives of the CBC, Sony Classical, and the National Library of Canada—offer both an intimate view of the person and a chronology his professional activities, A Life in Pictures is certainly worth looking at.
Lastly, I want to make certain I didn’t create a false impression. The writing in Tim Page’s Introduction is engaging, not at all dry, and conveys an understanding of Gould’s artistic and intellectual gifts. Here is a sample:
“Gould’s first recording of the Goldbergs heralded a new approach to Bach—one that combined the stark, separate contrapuntal voicings so easily delineated on the harpsichord with the tonal colour and dynamic calibration available from the modern piano. Never before had the composer’s music been played with such dazzling and incisive virtuosity. Yet underlying the technical flamboyance was evidence of a remarkable cerebral intensity.”
Page aims to give an unsentimental, and at times, penetrating account of Gould’s life and personality, one that does justice to the captivating individual shown in the photographs. He writes:
“Gould was paradoxical in the extreme, and almost any statement one makes about him can be contradicted by another that is equally valid. He made some of the best recordings of his time and (as he himself admitted) a few of the worst. He lived a life of monklike austerity, yet he was one of the jolliest and most spontaneous telephone companions imaginable. He was an individualist who prized rectitude and puritanical moral values, yet he considered himself a socialist and was skeptical of religious dogma. He frowned upon alcohol as weakness and indulgence, yet relied upon the generous consumption of tranquilizers. He loathed ostentatious Romantic effusion, yet esteemed Richard Strauss as the greatest of twentieth-century composers. He was reclusive and retiring, yet he wanted to be heard, be seen, be felt everywhere.”
Olga stein (Books in Canada) -- Books in Canada
Book Description
Foreword by Yo-Yo Ma
Introduction by Tim Page
“Glenn Gould was blessed with a multitude of gifts, but longevity was not among them. And yet . . . he has, in some profound and personal way, transcended time, for he remains a vital -- indeed essential -- musical presence all these years later, in some ways more central to our experience now than when he was alive.” -- Tim Page, from the Introduction
Glenn Gould (1932-1982) burst onto the world stage with his inspired 1955 recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations. His dynamic virtuosity and passionate artistry inspired millions, and he spent the next nine years as a star on the international concert circuit. In 1964, he announced that he was retiring from live performance, and devoted the rest of his life to recordings and documentaries.
Glenn Gould: A Life in Pictures is the first photographic treatment of the life of one of the greatest and most fascinating musicians of all time. This collection of more than 200 images includes a treasure trove of family pictures from the Glenn Gould Estate, most of which have never before been published, and rare photos from the CBC Archives, Sony Classical, and the National Archives of Canada.
A Life in Pictures celebrates the seventieth anniversary of Gould’s birth. The Foreword by Yo-Yo Ma and the Introduction by music critic Tim Page provide an insightful overview of Gould’s life and art. Extensive captions by the Estate’s literary advisor, Malcolm Lester, and quotes from Gould himself and other luminaries such as Leonard Bernstein, Yehudi Menuhin, Leopold Stokowski, and Leonard Rose appear throughout the book. The result is a lively portrait of a unique creative genius.
“Gould’s mind was a brilliant and shimmering prism through which sounds, senses and ideas were magically transfigured. As a teenager hearing his 1955 CBS recording of the Bach Goldberg Variations for the first time, I experienced a musical epiphany that would fuel my musical thinking for years to come. His recordings were a touchstone during those early years. . . ."
-- Yo-Yo Ma, from the Foreword
Introduction by Tim Page
“Glenn Gould was blessed with a multitude of gifts, but longevity was not among them. And yet . . . he has, in some profound and personal way, transcended time, for he remains a vital -- indeed essential -- musical presence all these years later, in some ways more central to our experience now than when he was alive.” -- Tim Page, from the Introduction
Glenn Gould (1932-1982) burst onto the world stage with his inspired 1955 recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations. His dynamic virtuosity and passionate artistry inspired millions, and he spent the next nine years as a star on the international concert circuit. In 1964, he announced that he was retiring from live performance, and devoted the rest of his life to recordings and documentaries.
Glenn Gould: A Life in Pictures is the first photographic treatment of the life of one of the greatest and most fascinating musicians of all time. This collection of more than 200 images includes a treasure trove of family pictures from the Glenn Gould Estate, most of which have never before been published, and rare photos from the CBC Archives, Sony Classical, and the National Archives of Canada.
A Life in Pictures celebrates the seventieth anniversary of Gould’s birth. The Foreword by Yo-Yo Ma and the Introduction by music critic Tim Page provide an insightful overview of Gould’s life and art. Extensive captions by the Estate’s literary advisor, Malcolm Lester, and quotes from Gould himself and other luminaries such as Leonard Bernstein, Yehudi Menuhin, Leopold Stokowski, and Leonard Rose appear throughout the book. The result is a lively portrait of a unique creative genius.
“Gould’s mind was a brilliant and shimmering prism through which sounds, senses and ideas were magically transfigured. As a teenager hearing his 1955 CBS recording of the Bach Goldberg Variations for the first time, I experienced a musical epiphany that would fuel my musical thinking for years to come. His recordings were a touchstone during those early years. . . ."
-- Yo-Yo Ma, from the Foreword
From the Inside Flap
"Glenn Gould was blessed with a multitude of gifts, but longevity was not among them. And yet... he has, in some profound and personal way, transcended time, for he remains a vital -- indeed essential -- musical presence all these years later, in some ways more central to our experience now than when he was alive."
-- Tim Page, from the Introduction
Glenn Gould (1932-1982) burst onto the world stage with his inspired 1955 recording of Bach's Goldberg Variations. His dynamic virtuosity and passionate artistry inspired millions, and he spent the next nine years as a star on the international concert circuit. In 1964, he announced that he was retiring from live performance, and devoted the rest of his life to recordings and documentaries.
Glenn Gould: A Life in Pictures is the first photographic treatment of the life of one of the greatest and most fascinating musicians of all time. This collection of more than 200 images includes a treasure trove of family pictures from the Glenn Gould Estate, most of which have never been published, and rare photos from the CBC Archives, Sony Classical, and the National Library of Canada.
A Life in Pictures celebrates the seventieth anniversary of Gould's birth. The Foreword by Yo-Yo Ma and the Introduction by music critic Tim Page provide an insightful overview of Gould's life and art. Extensive captions by the Estate's literary advisor, Malcolm Lester, and quotes from Gould himself and other luminaries such as Leonard Bernstein, Yehudi Menuhin, Leopold Stokowski, and Leonard Rose appear throughout the book. The result is a lively portrait of a unique creative genius.
(20071213) --This text refers to the Paperback edition.About the Author
Yo-Yo Ma, the internationally acclaimed cellist, won the Glenn Gould Prize in 1999. He contributed the Foreword. Yo-Yo Ma lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Tim Page, the author of the Introduction, is a leading Gould expert and a Pulitzer Prize-winning music critic at the Washington Post. His previous publications include The Glenn Gould Reader. He has twice been a juror for the Glenn Gould Prize. Tim Page lives in Washington, D.C.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Foreword by Yo-Yo Ma
One of Glenn Gould’s greatest gifts was his ability to create breathtaking new sound worlds from his own deep understanding of the abstract. In his recordings, writings and documentaries, Gould effortlessly transformed and reduced concepts of vast complexity into forms of profound beauty and simplicity.
Gould’s mind was a brilliant and shimmering prism through which sounds, senses and ideas were magically transfigured. As a teenager hearing his 1955 CBS recording of the Bach Goldberg Variations for the first time, I experienced a musical epiphany that would fuel my musical thinking for years to come. His recordings were a touchstone during those early years, and I admit that a copy of the Goldberg LP was prominently displayed on the wall of my freshman dorm room.
Gould was not a tactile or experiential thinker; rather, he dwelt deeply within the recesses of his own interior world. And in fact, he insulated himself from the realities of the physical world by creating his own self-sustaining universe. My wife, Jill, recalled how she encountered Gould for the first time in 1972, the same summer she and I met at the Marlboro Music Festival in Vermont. On a sunny, hot and cloudless morning, there he stood in cap, heavy winter coat, galoshes and gloves asking to interview Pablo Casals -- it was a sight she would never forget!
Gould constructed a series of elegant hypotheses to define the natural world around him. He approached life with the wonder and curiosity of a scientist, and in this respect, he reminded me of the great physicist Richard Feynman. While Feynman sought to study nature, which guarded its secrets, Gould’s approach was one step removed. Gould used the natural world as a backdrop to drive his imagination, yet did not require any proof or evidence of its actual existence. One of my favourite stories about Gould occurred when he was on tour in Israel in the 1950s. Disheartened by the piano in the hall, he drove his car out to the sand dunes near Tel Aviv and imagined he was playing his boyhood piano in his cottage on Lake Simcoe. He fixed his gaze on the Mediterranean and practised for hours -- and that evening performed Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2 to stunning and powerful effect.
Indeed, Gould exemplified how the mind could transport one to the outer reaches of creative expression. In his groundbreaking radio documentary The Idea of North, he explored the romantic ideal of the North, as a geographic region and as a mindset. The program consisted of a series of interviews featuring Canadians living in the arctic and subarctic regions of Canada who were asked to define the ineffable ideal of what constituted “the North.” The result was an elaborate, fugal tapestry consisting of interviews that were edited by Gould himself. Well-known for his fear of the cold, the reclusive artist ventured no farther north than Winnipeg and Churchill. “I have no real experience of the North. I have remained of necessity an outsider,” he admitted. “The North has remained for me a convenient place to dream about, spin tall tales about, and in the end avoid.”
Imagined experience is perhaps made richer by the mind’s eye, and this divide between imagined experience and reality can be found in the lives of so many of the great artists. Like Ravel, who infused his works with the bell-like pentatonicism of the Javanese gamelan orchestra, which he heard for the first time at the 1889 World’s Fair in Paris, Gould shared a penchant for exploring new sound worlds. The fact that Ravel never travelled to the East and that Gould never travelled to the North is perhaps immaterial. It was “the idea of” these worlds that ignited their creative imaginations.
Shortly after Gould completed The Idea of North, he was asked to do a radio documentary about China. He was fascinated with the idea, but proposed to do the documentary without leaving Canada. “The prospects for a visit by me to the Orient are nil.” Yet even his fear of flying could not curb his longing to explore this vast new territory. He suggested doing a radio essay on the theme of solitude with China as the backdrop. Not surprisingly, Gould never went East. Yet he remained devoted to exploring new frontiers.
Creativity cannot be measured by the boundaries of north, south, east or west. Gould once defined art as “the gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity.” He understood the great joy of being able to transform a pure abstract concept into a thing of tangible beauty. His work reflects a birth of sorts, and was a wondrous passport to his mind and spirit.
While we are bereft of Gould’s inimitable artistry, the legacy of his imagination is a gift we will continue to treasure for many years to come.
One of Glenn Gould’s greatest gifts was his ability to create breathtaking new sound worlds from his own deep understanding of the abstract. In his recordings, writings and documentaries, Gould effortlessly transformed and reduced concepts of vast complexity into forms of profound beauty and simplicity.
Gould’s mind was a brilliant and shimmering prism through which sounds, senses and ideas were magically transfigured. As a teenager hearing his 1955 CBS recording of the Bach Goldberg Variations for the first time, I experienced a musical epiphany that would fuel my musical thinking for years to come. His recordings were a touchstone during those early years, and I admit that a copy of the Goldberg LP was prominently displayed on the wall of my freshman dorm room.
Gould was not a tactile or experiential thinker; rather, he dwelt deeply within the recesses of his own interior world. And in fact, he insulated himself from the realities of the physical world by creating his own self-sustaining universe. My wife, Jill, recalled how she encountered Gould for the first time in 1972, the same summer she and I met at the Marlboro Music Festival in Vermont. On a sunny, hot and cloudless morning, there he stood in cap, heavy winter coat, galoshes and gloves asking to interview Pablo Casals -- it was a sight she would never forget!
Gould constructed a series of elegant hypotheses to define the natural world around him. He approached life with the wonder and curiosity of a scientist, and in this respect, he reminded me of the great physicist Richard Feynman. While Feynman sought to study nature, which guarded its secrets, Gould’s approach was one step removed. Gould used the natural world as a backdrop to drive his imagination, yet did not require any proof or evidence of its actual existence. One of my favourite stories about Gould occurred when he was on tour in Israel in the 1950s. Disheartened by the piano in the hall, he drove his car out to the sand dunes near Tel Aviv and imagined he was playing his boyhood piano in his cottage on Lake Simcoe. He fixed his gaze on the Mediterranean and practised for hours -- and that evening performed Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2 to stunning and powerful effect.
Indeed, Gould exemplified how the mind could transport one to the outer reaches of creative expression. In his groundbreaking radio documentary The Idea of North, he explored the romantic ideal of the North, as a geographic region and as a mindset. The program consisted of a series of interviews featuring Canadians living in the arctic and subarctic regions of Canada who were asked to define the ineffable ideal of what constituted “the North.” The result was an elaborate, fugal tapestry consisting of interviews that were edited by Gould himself. Well-known for his fear of the cold, the reclusive artist ventured no farther north than Winnipeg and Churchill. “I have no real experience of the North. I have remained of necessity an outsider,” he admitted. “The North has remained for me a convenient place to dream about, spin tall tales about, and in the end avoid.”
Imagined experience is perhaps made richer by the mind’s eye, and this divide between imagined experience and reality can be found in the lives of so many of the great artists. Like Ravel, who infused his works with the bell-like pentatonicism of the Javanese gamelan orchestra, which he heard for the first time at the 1889 World’s Fair in Paris, Gould shared a penchant for exploring new sound worlds. The fact that Ravel never travelled to the East and that Gould never travelled to the North is perhaps immaterial. It was “the idea of” these worlds that ignited their creative imaginations.
Shortly after Gould completed The Idea of North, he was asked to do a radio documentary about China. He was fascinated with the idea, but proposed to do the documentary without leaving Canada. “The prospects for a visit by me to the Orient are nil.” Yet even his fear of flying could not curb his longing to explore this vast new territory. He suggested doing a radio essay on the theme of solitude with China as the backdrop. Not surprisingly, Gould never went East. Yet he remained devoted to exploring new frontiers.
Creativity cannot be measured by the boundaries of north, south, east or west. Gould once defined art as “the gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity.” He understood the great joy of being able to transform a pure abstract concept into a thing of tangible beauty. His work reflects a birth of sorts, and was a wondrous passport to his mind and spirit.
While we are bereft of Gould’s inimitable artistry, the legacy of his imagination is a gift we will continue to treasure for many years to come.
