THOSE WHO HAD THE PATIENCE for last month’s potted and highly subjective history of the modern performer’s reception of Bach’s Goldberg Variations would have been right to expect a sequel. Having stalked Glenn Gould, we must now grab the Canadian moose by his antlers. For the apostles of Gouldism, seeking unalloyed epic poetry masquerading as the skimmed milk of objective criticism, there are plenty of other writers to satisfy their urges.
One might find it more interesting, if provocative, to consider how Gould’s interpretations of the Goldbergs fall within more or less established boundaries already set by other keyboard artists. Might his attitudes, often read by the literati as being deeply insightful, have more to do with the projection of relatively modern anxieties about the music and legacy of Bach?
Indeed, one could very well parse each variation, each bar, each gesture, for
