We Could All Learn a Thing or Two from Glenn Gould
This month marks twenty-seven years since the death of Glenn Gould, a figure one can still picture humming involuntarily, hunched over the piano, his attention timelessly captivated by his art. Renowned for his individuality, both in his unorthodox musical interpretations and in his idiosyncratic tendencies on and off the performance stage, I have no doubt that Gould will forever be remembered, not just for his contributions to his art, but also for his determination to remain true to himself—an ethos I believe that we can all take inspiration from.
But how do we be true to ourselves when our senses of self, trueness, and the paths according to which we self-discover are subject to a constant tide of external pressure? One can be forgiven for perceiving that an irreducible futility surrounds the notion of loyalty to one's self given that our freedom to choose what we do in life is always subject to the essential parameters of our societal and social boxes. “Find yourself” we are instructed, once more faced with a choice between paths already set.
Like many of us, Gould's path was seemingly set up for him from an early age: his mother, having envisioned her son's future as a concert pianist, was instrumental in nurturing his early signs of musical prodigy. For example, she would encourage him to sing as he played, which would later ingrain itself as a performance habit, much to the annoyance of his recording engineers. This pressure to follow a particular career path is something that we all experience, be it from our families to pursue a specific degree or an environmental pressure while at university to enter the corporate world.
Out of the numerous questions posed to employers during the many networking events I have witnessed, one will always stand out to me in particular: “Does your firm promote individuality?” What is it about a City career and the progression through its corporate hierarchy that apparently implies a pseudo sense of finding yourself as just another one of many suits in a competitive sea of grey? It seems that for some people, the more that they picture their future along this path, they cannot help but feel that they would lose themselves, that the idealistic ambitions of childhood are just that—childhood—and that the image of their future self resembles just another cog in the capitalist machine.
So how, then, is Gould an individual to take inspiration from? Like many artists, he was subjected to pressure to conform, but nevertheless remained steadfastly loyal to his musical vision and creative pursuits. Faced with subtle objection from his record company, for example, his decision in 1955 to record Bach's Goldberg Variations—then perceived to lie solely within the jurisdiction of the likes of the harpsichordist Wanda Landowska—anchored his international reputation with his ground-breaking interpretation. He also structured his unorthodox repertoire around a rejection of what he perceived to be the clichéd works of Romantic greats, such as Chopin, in favour of the more intellectually curious inventions of pre-Baroque, Baroque, and twentieth-century composers—such as Sweelinck and Schoenberg—contrary to then industry expectations. After retiring from public performance in 1964 while at the height of his career, he invested the remainder of his life to exploring the breadth of his creative imagination through his recordings, broadcasting, and writings. Therefore, it can be seen that Gould ultimately remained true to his own individuality without succumbing to the pitfalls of a predetermined path.
This is not to say, however, that we should avoid all trends for fear of losing ourselves to conformity or that we should deliberately strive to be eccentric for the sake of individuality, but rather that we should always endeavour to think for ourselves despite any external pressures. Thus, although I accept that my future self may likely embark on a career in the corporate world, I nevertheless take inspiration from Gould that although one day I may adorn a suit, I can choose its colour.
Article tags: | identity |
Glenn Gould at the piano. Photo by Jock Carroll, 1956.
Glenn Gould singing and gesticulating with his hands (via Pinterest).
Search by Tag
-
While it may be unbeknownst to some, references to Greta Thunberg's U.N. Climate Action Summit address as a "meltdo… https://t.co/5kEEFQELep
Recent articles
