Variations...

I'm having one of those weeks. Well intentioned and well thought out, but just as far from the fucking blue-print as possible. And so, I sat down to write and get some of the demons out. And when I write, I often listen to music. Some people find it difficult to write when there's music with lyrics. I don't have that. I'm intimately familiar with at least 200 of the 400 or so cds on my shelf. And when I say 'intimately familiar' i mean i could recite lyrics for most of them or sing them to you from the opening note until the last echo of sound. It's one of my few gifts (the others being video games and making a really good pizza.)

Anyway, I looked through my albums and thought, "What haven't I listened to in a while?" And I came across the two versions of Bach's "The Goldberg Variations" that Glenn Gould recorded - one at the beginning of his recording life and one very near the end. And I chose the latter. I prefer it. The first version is a perfect snapshot of him when he recorded; youthful, arrogant and full of energy. And the second version is mature, thoughtful and varied, just as he was towards the end of his life.

I've always had a fascination with GG. Like him, I'm an obsessive personality. This is a guy who ate scrambled eggs and black coffee from Fran's at Yonge & College whenever he was working at the old CBC studio on Jarvis in Toronto. For EVERY MEAL!!! I won't say I'm quite that systematic or particular, but I'm sure some of my loved ones would disagree with me. I just find his obsessions interesting. Not repulsive and not strange; just interesting. Because I understand some of them. For example, in the studio he wouldn't stop recording until every note was the way he wanted it. He would do it again and again and again. And he took that further. He became frustrated with the way the press presented him and so he stopped doing interviews. But every once in a while he would release an interview that he had conducted on himself. The transcript would read something like:

gg: We're here in the studio with Mr. Gould today and he's going to discuss his next project with us. Mr. Gould, thank you.

GG: Of course, of course. You can quote me on that (laughter).


The other people he would get along with if he were alive today are also on my shelf: Peter Gabriel, Ben Folds, Dan Lanois, Neil Finn, Billy Corgan. Not perfectionists, but meticulists. Mick is going to complain that isn't a word, but I'm adding it to the dictionary.

Meticulists: (noun) persons who give or show great attention to detail, they are very careful and exact

It could be said I'm a meticulist. And I think that's why I'm drawn to these people. I almost had the chance to play Glenn Gould once. (For those of you who are confused - well, I don't know if anybody reads this damned thing, but if you do - I'm an actor when I'm not being a musician or a raving lunatic). I was working at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa and they were doing a production of "Glenn" here in Toronto. It's a fantastic piece of theatre. It's 32 small scenes (I think it's where the film idea came from) about music and genius and life. It's really confusing and perhaps too dense for anyone but Glenn Gould fans to understand, though. And that's it's major flaw. It takes 4 different versions of GG from his life (which he would have LOVED) and they all tell stories and interact in strange ways to reveal things about life and why it is the way it is. Fascinating little piece of theatre. Anyway, I got chicken pox before my callback and I couldn't go and I didn't get the part (I still haven't figured out the 'greater scheme' rationale for that one yet). I was pretty pissed about the whole thing. And so I come full circle to where I am today. I'm pissed that life isn't working out the way I've told it to. I'm pushing and pulling and jumping and screaming and chasing everything that I want and it's just not happening. And I listen to the Goldberg Variations and...it's all there. All the ups and downs that life has. All the highs and lows. All the fear and doubt and chases and strolls. All this; it's in the music. Everyone thinks it's just a lovely piece of recording, but it wouldn't be that lovely piece of music without the clunkiness and ugliness that creeps into it every now and then. Not every movement is beautiful. Some of them are slow and disonant. Some of them are so full of uncertainty and questions. And some of them teem with life and hope. And so, I look across the room at the guitars sitting quietly and I realize it's time to stop wasting time. There's songs to write and records to make. And here I am bitching about life not going according to plan. I keep forgetting that's the point.

"A record is a concert without halls and a museum whose curator is the owner."
- Glenn Gould