This article originally appeared in the May 2003 issue of the Institute for Canadian Music Newsletter.
 
Kevin Bazzana: Wondrous Strange: The Life and Art of Glenn Gould
 
Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 2003. ISBN 0-7710-1101-6
 
reviewed by Colin Eatock
 
The latest addition to the ever-growing literature on Canada’s most celebrated classical musician, Wondrous Strange: the Life and Art of Glenn Gould by Kevin Bazzana, is lively and thoroughly readable. This ambitious book – 490 pages in length – offers a painstakingly researched and highly detailed account of Gould’s life, from his birth in Toronto in 1932 to his death in the same city half a century later.

There are several previously published biographies of Gould: Otto Friedrich’s Glenn Gould: A Life and Variations (Toronto: Lester & Orpen Dennys, 1989) for instance, or Peter F. Ostwald’s Glenn Gould: The Ecstasy and Tragedy of Genius (New York: W.W. Norton, 1997). Bazzana, well aware he was walking a well-trodden path, chose a different approach. In his introductory comments he distances himself from those biographers who "saw Gould as an unclassifiable entity who came out of nowhere in 1955" (p. 13), announcing his own intention to affirm Gould’s Canadian roots and identity. This decision, says Bazzana – a Canadian musicologist living on Vancouver Island – was motivated not by patriotism, but by a desire for "accuracy" and "comprehensiveness." Bazzana has been true to his intentions, creating a biography that underscores his subject’s connections to his native country at every possible opportunity. Indeed, Wondrous Strange is perhaps more Canadian than its author consciously realizes – and this may account for both the strengths and weaknesses of the book.

The first two chapters are devoted to Gould’s formative years in and around Toronto. Bazzana also has much to say about Toronto itself, painting a portrait of a provincial city that was still loyal to King and Empire; where "Anglo-Protestant values were reflected in both public and private life" (p. 17). Gould, we learn, grew up in a particularly British part of town – known simply as the Beach – where "Others" were not welcome. As well, Bazzana provides some interesting information about the Gould (originally Gold) family’s roots in rural Ontario. Concerning the young Glenn’s parents, we are introduced to a respectable if somewhat remote father, and a doting mother with strong musical inclinations. Their frail, only child loved animals and the outdoors, disliked school, and took to the piano like a fish to water.

This is good writing: for Torontonians, Bazzana’s descriptions of civic life from the 1930s to the 1950s will ring true, and for those unfamiliar with the city, his account of the place is clear and informative. Moreover, he convincingly attributes Gould’s development to the values of his middle-class family, and also to a city whose musical culture was becoming increasingly sophisticated. There were many fine choirs and also a professional orchestra, and Toronto’s Massey Hall attracted such renowned pianists as Joseph Hofmann, Claudio Arrau, Robert Casadesus, Rudolf Serkin and Vladimir Horowitz. As well, there was the Toronto Conservatory of Music, where Gould studied under an excellent teacher, the Chilean pianist Alberto Guerrero, and there was the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, where the increasingly renowned Gould gave almost 30 radio recitals between 1950 and 1955. Bazzana makes his point well: Gould did not spring from a void.

In chronicling Gould’s years on the international concert circuit, from 1955 to 1964, Bazzana, of necessity, says much that has already been said elsewhere: most Gould enthusiasts already know about his performance of Brahms’ Piano Concerto in D Minor with the New York Philharmonic, for instance, and Leonard Bernstein’s remarks that preceded it. Fortunately, Wondrous Strange brings some fresh insight to Gould’s decade on the road, including details of his 1957 tour to the Soviet Union, where he thrilled audiences with his performances – and shocked them with a lecture on 12-tone music, which was then frowned upon in the USSR. Bazzana sheds a favourable light on the pianist’s decision, in 1964, to abandon the concert stage, presenting it as a beginning, rather than an ending. ‘Gould’s new life liberated him, and he began exploring new repertoire with relish,’ states our author (p. 244). He goes on to explain that Gould remained a very busy and productive artist, releasing 32 recordings in the first decade of his "retirement."

This major shift in Gould’s life placed him squarely back in Toronto, and his post-concert career in his hometown occupies the second half of this book. We read of Gould’s copious writings on musical and philosophical subjects, his unique radio documentaries, his work in film and television, and his growing interest in conducting. Bazzana even hints that Gould might eventually have given up playing the piano altogether to pursue his other activities, had he lived much beyond 50.

Again, this is all good stuff – but when Bazzana turns his attention to Gould as a man, Wondrous Strange becomes just plain strange. Addressing the controversial issues of Gould’s personality and personal life, Bazzana appears to present several contradictory arguments at the same time. This Canadian tendency to give equal weight to all sides of an argument can be a virtue – it has made Canadian soldiers the finest peacekeepers in the world – but here it clouds, rather than clarifies, our understanding of Gould.

Bazzana admits that Gould was "a queer duck" – but he also asserts that he was in some respects "downright normal," dismissing as sensationalistic the idea that Gould was "a misanthropic, paranoid hermit, perhaps autistic or mentally ill" (p. 316). Nevertheless, Bazzana goes on to discuss a number of traits that make Gould sound maladjusted, phobic and alarmingly withdrawn. His apartment was "heated to 80 degrees F, and his windows were permanently sealed against fresh air" (p. 322). "His shirts and socks might be full of holes, pants split up the seat, shoes held intact by a rubber band" (p. 324). "He would cancel a concert or an airplane flight if he believed it would turn out to be "unlucky" (p. 333). And "sometimes close friends of long standing found themselves suddenly shut out of Gould’s life, for reasons he would not share" (p. 376).

Mere eccentricities? Perhaps, but it is harder to explain away Gould’s hypochondria. Reports Bazzana: "When an unavoidable emotional confrontation with another person loomed, he needed more than spinal resilience to deal with it; he needed Valium" (p. 330). Gould also took prescription drugs such as Librax, Placidyl, Dalmane, Nembutal, Luminal, Aldomet, Indoral – the list goes on – and in 1976 was prescribed the anti-psychotic drug Stelazine. In fact, Gould seems to have had a mild psychotic episode in 1959: he imagined he was being spied upon and that people were communicating with him in code; and he rearranged his rooms because he did not like the way a piece of furniture was staring at him (p. 368-69). He had a small army of medical practitioners attending to his ailments, both imaginary and real, and he measured his own blood pressure several times a day. All of this surely exceeds any definition of eccentricity – there were, unfortunately, things wrong with Gould. Even Bazzana seems to grow unsure of his subject’s normalcy, noting that he "manifested a variety of obsessional, schizoid and narcissistic traits" (p. 370).

Bazzana pointedly intertwines his discussion of Gould’s personal problems with accounts of his more admirable qualities. "He loved children all his life" (p. 347) and "with the right people, he enjoyed nothing more than hanging around and shooting the breeze" (p. 380) He also argues that, for a recluse, Gould knew a great many of people. Fair enough – but is Bazzana trying to say that Gould’s endearing characteristics somehow mitigated his more disturbing traits? Is not a hypochondriac who loves children still a hypochondriac? In his efforts to be supremely even-handed, Bazzana’s message becomes confused.

There is one more disappointment that should not pass without mention. For reasons not entirely made clear, Bazzana declines to name names when writing about Gould’s love life – although he implies that he could if he wanted to. Other Gould biographers have taken a similar approach (one might almost call it a tradition), but it is hard to see what good purpose is served by such discretion 21 years after Gould’s death. It would have been far more useful for Bazzana to clear up the question of who Gould’s lovers were once and for all, so that Gould fans could at last move on to weightier issues.

Bazzana did not know Gould personally, as did others who have written about him, such as Geoffrey Payzant and John Roberts. And it is possibly for this reason that he felt the need to hedge his bets when describing his subject’s personality, quoting from many sources and balancing all assertions with counter-assertions. As an account of Glenn Gould’s origins, art and career, Wondrous Strange is a unified and purposeful contribution to the Gould literature. But as an account of Glenn Gould the man, it is a patchwork quilt of conflicting evidence, testimonials and opinions – interesting, but hardly a definitive statement on this brilliant, enigmatic artist.

© Copyright Colin Eatock 2003