Why Glenn Gould Retired as a Concert Pianist at Thirty-One and What It Means

We may never see (or have yet to see) another classical pianist who brought as much boldness and idiosyncrasy to the table as Glenn Gould had. Gould was an oddity in more ways than one. As a teenager, one of the first descriptions I’ve heard addressing him was the “James Dean” of the piano. I was confused when, upon searching him on YouTube, I mostly came across videos of a middle-aged man grotesquely hunched over the piano, singing along as he played Bach. 

Much of Gould’s digital imprint is his studio recordings; his live performances are less publicly “advertized.” This was due to the fact that he chose to retire at the young age of thirty-one, with his last performance being on April 10, 1964. The number of live performances he’d given since then would’ve totaled less than 200. For comparison, Van Cliburn would give an average of 200 performances in the span of two years. 

But Gould had immense fame and success during his time as a concert pianist. Why was it then that he decided to give up concert life?

Eugenia Biedma offers multiple possible reasons: his health, his relationship with the public, and his desire to expand his musical identity, particularly through recording. It is the latter two that I find most significant to us as classical music enthusiasts.

Concertizing versus Recording

One can only imagine how polarizing Gould and his unique approach to music would be among audiences. Reading through reactions to his controversial 1962 performance with Bernstein, you find such comments as “slow to the point of sluggishness” or “Mr. Gould is indeed a fine artist, unfortunately at present suffering from music hallucinations that make him unfit for public appearances.” 

But Gould also expressed how demeaning it was to perform for a large audience, especially one that tended to fixate–indeed, practically caricaturize–his eccentricities. He once stated:

“At concerts I feel demeaned, like a vaudevillian.”

These would be a reasonable answers as to why Gould shifted from the concert hall to the recording studio. Yet, going through his writings, you find it goes much deeper.

Gould saw an inherent limiting factor in live performances, primarily because of the “degrading and humanly damaging uncertainties which the concert brings with it.” In contrast, recording had the “capability to create a climate of anonymity and to allow the artist the time and the freedom to prepare his conception of a work to the best of his ability.”

But more than just creating the optimal environment for the artist, Gould believed that recording was the most beneficial medium for the listener as well. It provided a democratic space for people to fall into the music in the most personal and cathartic way possible. Gould expresses this beautifully:

“Through the ministrations of radio and the phonograph, we are rapidly and quite properly learning to appreciate the elements of aesthetic narcissism-and I use that word in its best sense-and are awakening to the challenge that each man contemplatively create his own divinity.”

At the same time, one might wonder why concertizing and recording should be pitted against each other, as Gould does. 

What do you think?