Glenn Gould’s Inner Life
Posted in art, music on April 20th, 2011 by Ira Altschiller – Comments OffWe’ve just seen a great documentary with the unfortunate title, “Genius Within: The Inner Life of Glenn Gould”.
Documentaries are dependent on subject. The Civil War documentary by Ken Burns was his best because of the wonderful letters and photographs. Burns has never matched that fine piece.
Gould, some kind of genius, was a riveting subject. Photogenic — you would cast him as the eccentric, poetic soul, too fine grained for this world — an articulate, wonderfully talented individual; the man was a Seeker. Gould lived music, inhaled it, inhabited it when he played. He is renowned for clarity and extraordinary technique. His deep psychic connection to the great architect of music, the genius Bach, makes complete sense — they are so opposite in their tendencies.
Watching Gould perform is like watching a sentient spider delicately crafting a web. He sat on a low chair, an artifact his childhood — and partly because he had a back injury as a child. This enhances the sensation of watching a magician at work as he chants along with the music. He invests the music and loses all sense of self. The noted “oddness,” he wore gloves to protect his hands and an overcoat even in warm weather, weren’t affectations, although later he saw the utility of such eccentricity for an audience more drawn to surface than substance. It would draw them to him. In England he would simply be called an eccentric without disparagement but in consensus America he stood out.
Gould’s inner struggle seemed to me a battle between the performer and the artist within. Performers need an audience; they need the feedback and the applause. It is at root a shallow relationship. But the artist works alone and digs deep, trying to reach that deeper self that he might touch the audience at some primal human level. Gould finally surrendered to the artist in himself, worked in the studio, not publicly performing, but instead leading the way to electronic renditions. The problem is that he was a performer. He was riveting to watch, in his confidence and ecstatic trance; there was no way he could improve the improvisational fascination of his performances with a perfection of sound.
It was such a wonderfully done documentary. Beautifully integrating photos and video and incredible music. There is a real sense of the human being, Glenn Gould, communicated in this film by these empathetic filmmakers.




































