Peter Ostwald, who died shortly after completing this sensitive analysis of the legendary Canadian pianist Glenn Gould (1932-82), is one of those rare biographers equally qualified to assess his subject's artistry and psychology. Founder of the Health Program for Performing Artists, the psychiatrist-author was also Gould's friend for 20 years. Lucid prose captures Gould's formidable, unconventional virtuosity and unmasks a deeply troubled man who was uncomfortable with audiences, fearful of human contact, and able to maintain relationships only when he was in complete control. The eccentricities and the genius, as Ostwald persuasively demonstrates, were inextricably intertwined.


From Library Journal
The late writer, psychiatrist, and musician Ostwald concluded his series of performer biographies (e.g., Vaslav Nijinsky: A Leap into Madness, LJ 11/1/90) with this portrait of Canadian pianist Glenn Gould. Ostwald wrote from the unusual perspective of someone who was a friend of the reclusive Gould. Readers excited by this insider viewpoint may be somewhat disappointed as Ostwald's personal reminiscences taper off after his opening chapter. Still, Ostwald does present the medical aspects of Gould's life to a degree not seen in earlier biographies. And though Gould remains something of an enigma, his talent, quirkiness, and innovative musicianship emerge. Since his death in 1982, Gould has remained an influential and somewhat controversial pianist, owing in part to a recorded legacy that remains very much alive. This new biography should help maintain interest in Gould. A valuable addition for larger music collections.?James E. Ross, WLN, SeattleCopyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc.


Entertainment Weekly, L.S. Klepp
Ostwald ... ponders the counterpoint of Gould's inner and outer lives--solitude and immersion, puritanism and comic impersonations, bravado and phobia. This brisk book is discerning rather than reductive, and guaranteed Freud-free.


From Booklist
The late Peter Ostwald's masterful psychobiography of eccentric Canadian pianist Glenn Gould (1932^-82) captures the musician's struggles with performance anxiety, hypochondria, and the burden of genius. Ostwald, a psychiatrist and violinist, was a close friend and confidant for 25 years. From the time that Gould burst upon the U.S. musical scene with his 1955 recording of Bach's Goldberg Variations, he constructed a public persona that quickly attained cult status. His eccentricities during performances are well known. He sat on a rickety wooden chair made for him by his father, with the piano elevated on wooden blocks so that his arms stretched straight out in front of him. He often hummed or sang the melody and ecstatically undulated his upper body to its tempo. His unusual interpretations of classical compositions were both brilliant and shocking. After he retired from the concert stage in 1964, Gould applied his genius to radio, TV, and film documentaries. Written during the last year of Ostwald's life while he was suffering from terminal cancer, the book is as much a tribute to his courage as it is to Gould's talent. George Eberhart


From Kirkus Reviews
One of Gould's friends memorializes the virtuoso pianist. Ostwald, a psychiatrist and violinist who died last year, met Gould in 1957, when both were in their 20s, after Gould's California debut, when the awed Ostwald rushed backstage to congratulate him. Out of that impulsive gesture came an unusual friendship based on Gould's high-speed monologues and Ostwald's sympathetic ear. His book, a hodgepodge of reminiscence and speculation, is not really a biography but rather an affectionate, sometimes clumsy montage. Some of the highlights: the adult Gould's fondness for inventing ``imaginary dialogues in which he talked to himself'' about aspects of music and other topics, at times inhabiting ``make-believe characters'' given names like Thornwaite, Chianti, and Klopweisser; and an image of the boyish Gould, observed singing to cows at pasture in rural Ontario. His oddities get an airing here: The hypochondriac performer often traveled with ``handfuls of assorted pills in his coat pockets, which sometimes led to unfortunate results when he had to cross the border from Canada to the United States. Often he would be detained by suspicious customs officials.'' Also celebrated is Gould the animal lover, who left a large part of his estate to the Toronto Humane Society when he died in 1982 at the age of 50. But of course, Gould's eccentricities are already well known, and one flaw of Ostwald's book is a lack of new material. Also, it is marred by awkward writing, a tendency to philosophize turgidly about music and the state of Gould's mind, and excessive documentation of such matters as Gould's blood pressure and pulse rate. Indeed, Ostwald's professional interest in the pianist's medical worries tends to go overboard. Still, a poignant figure emerges (how could it not?) of the musician as a willing martyr to his talent, drive, and obsessions. (60 photos, not seen) -- Copyright ©1997, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.


Entertainment Weekly
This brisk book is discerning rather than reductive, and guaranteed Freud-free. [Grade:] A.


Time
[A] superb psychological study...a poignant personal memoir.


Ted Libbey, Washington Post Book World
[Glenn Gould] marks a major advance in our understanding of one of the 20th century's most significant performing artists.... Ostwald is as engrossing a writer as any who has tried his hand at biography.


Book Description
The Canadian pianist Glenn Gould was a child prodigy and a musical genius whose 1955 recording of Bach's "Goldberg Variations" catapulted him to world fame. He was also plagued by lifelong depression, was terrified of playing before live audiences, and consumed prescription drugs by the handful. He died at fifty of a massive stroke. In this acclaimed biography, the late psychiatrist Peter Ostwald-himself an accomplished violinist and longtime personal friend of Gould's-raises many questions about Gould and his music. Was his genius sponsored by eccentricity or vice versa? Do those with genius sacrifice themselves for a higher ideal while remaining personally unfulfilled? Ostwald lays bare the energy and contradiction behind Gould's brilliance.

FROM OUR EDITORS

Famous perhaps as much for his behavior as for his performances and recordings, Glenn Gould nonetheless remains, even years after his death, one of the most beloved pianists in the world. An acute hypochondriac and loner, Gould is the subject of Glenn Gould: The Ecstasy and Tragedy of Genius, a psychoanalytical biography penned by Peter F. Ostwald, author of Schumann: The Inner Voices of a Musical Genius. A musician himself, as well as a psychiatrist, Ostwald met Gould in 1957 and remained friends with him until his death. In this very readable biography, he explores both the pianist's emotional and physical frailties and his prodigious creative talents. Whether you're a classical-music lover or fancy yourself an amateur psychologist, you'll find yourself drawn into this fair-minded yet affectionate portrait of a troubled but gifted musical genius.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

The Canadian pianist Glenn Gould was a child prodigy and a musical genius whose 1955 recording of Bach's "Goldberg Variations" catapulted him to world fame. He was also plagued by lifelong depression, was terrified of playing before live audiences, and consumed prescription drugs by the handful. He died at fifty of a massive stroke. In this acclaimed biography, the late psychiatrist Peter Ostwald - an accomplished violinist and longtime personal friend of Gould's - raises many questions about Gould and his music. Was his genius sponsored by eccentricity or vice versa? Do those with genius sacrifice themselves for a higher ideal while remaining personally unfulfilled? Ostwald lays bare the energy and contradiction behind Gould's brilliance.

FROM THE CRITICS

Publishers Weekly

Famous for his eccentricities as well as for his brilliance as a pianist, Gould (1932-1982) was a notorious hypochondriac and recluse. In this disturbing biography, Ostwald (Schumann: The Inner Voices of a Musical Genius), a psychiatrist and musician who met Gould in 1957 and observed his behavior for the next quarter-century, examines his life and career in an attempt to explain his psychosomatic illnesses but manages only to describe them. Except for a few tentative speculations -- Gould may have suffered from Asperger disease, a variant of autism, and his reluctance to get close to people may have been an attempt to shield himself from homicidal impulses -- the author does not show how the totally self-absorbed, neurotic genius got the way he was. The details of Gould's real and imaginary illnesses may become wearing for some readers, yet Ostwald's analyses of Gould's musicianship and discussions of his radio broadcasts and TV documentaries are illuminating, and his writing has an intimacy that makes you feel you've actually been in the same room with the pianist. Photos not seen by PW. (May) FYI: Ostwald succumbed to cancer after a 12-year battle upon completing this book.

Library Journal

The late writer, psychiatrist, and musician Ostwald concluded his series of performer biographies (e.g., Vaslav Nijinsky: A Leap into Madness, LJ 11/1/90) with this portrait of Canadian pianist Glenn Gould. Ostwald wrote from the unusual perspective of someone who was a friend of the reclusive Gould. Readers excited by this insider viewpoint may be somewhat disappointed as Ostwald's personal reminiscences taper off after his opening chapter. Still, Ostwald does present the medical aspects of Gould's life to a degree not seen in earlier biographies. And though Gould remains something of an enigma, his talent, quirkiness, and innovative musicianship emerge. Since his death in 1982, Gould has remained an influential and somewhat controversial pianist, owing in part to a recorded legacy that remains very much alive. This new biography should help maintain interest in Gould. A valuable addition for larger music collections.James E. Ross, WLN, Seattle

Kirkus Reviews

One of Gould's friends memorializes the virtuoso pianist.

Ostwald, a psychiatrist and violinist who died last year, met Gould in 1957, when both were in their 20s, after Gould's California debut, when the awed Ostwald rushed backstage to congratulate him. Out of that impulsive gesture came an unusual friendship based on Gould's high-speed monologues and Ostwald's sympathetic ear. His book, a hodgepodge of reminiscence and speculation, is not really a biography but rather an affectionate, sometimes clumsy montage. Some of the highlights: the adult Gould's fondness for inventing "imaginary dialogues in which he talked to himself" about aspects of music and other topics, at times inhabiting "make-believe characters" given names like Thornwaite, Chianti, and Klopweisser; and an image of the boyish Gould, observed singing to cows at pasture in rural Ontario. His oddities get an airing here: The hypochondriac performer often traveled with "handfuls of assorted pills in his coat pockets, which sometimes led to unfortunate results when he had to cross the border from Canada to the United States. Often he would be detained by suspicious customs officials." Also celebrated is Gould the animal lover, who left a large part of his estate to the Toronto Humane Society when he died in 1982 at the age of 50. But of course, Gould's eccentricities are already well known, and one flaw of Ostwald's book is a lack of new material. Also, it is marred by awkward writing, a tendency to philosophize turgidly about music and the state of Gould's mind, and excessive documentation of such matters as Gould's blood pressure and pulse rate. Indeed, Ostwald's professional interest in the pianist's medical worries tends to go overboard.

Still, a poignant figure emerges (how could it not?) of the musician as a willing martyr to his talent, drive, and obsessions.