Glenn Gould, that intelÂlecÂtuÂalÂly intense, aesÂthetÂiÂcalÂly ausÂtere interÂpreter of Johann SebasÂtÂian Bach, had litÂtle time for pop music. He had espeÂcialÂly litÂtle time for the BeaÂtÂles: “Theirs is a hapÂpy, cocky, belÂligerÂentÂly resourceÂless brand of harÂmonÂic primÂiÂtivism,” he wrote in High FideliÂty in 1967, when the Fab Four had reached the top of the zeitÂgeist. “The indulÂgent amaÂteurÂishÂness of the musiÂcal mateÂrÂiÂal, though closeÂly rivaled by the indifÂferÂence of the perÂformÂing style, is actuÂalÂly surÂpassed only by the inepÂtiÂtude of the stuÂdio proÂducÂtion method,” he declares, likenÂing “StrawÂberÂry Fields ForÂevÂer” to “a mounÂtain wedÂding between ClauÂdio MonÂteverÂdi and a jug band.”
But the BeaÂtÂle-bashÂing was inciÂdenÂtal to the purÂpose of the artiÂcle, a paean to EngÂlish singer PetuÂla Clark. At first lisÂten, her four sinÂgles on which Gould focusÂes his analyÂsis — 1964’s “DownÂtown,” 1956’s “My Love,” and 1966’s “A Sign of the Times” and “Who Am I?” — sound like nothÂing more than adoÂlesÂcent-oriÂentÂed pop hardÂly touched by any of that decade’s musiÂcal (or indeed social) revÂoÂluÂtions. But “this quarÂtet of hits,” in Gould’s view, “was designed to conÂvey the idea that, bound as she might be by limÂiÂtaÂtions of timÂbre and range, she would not accept any corÂreÂspondÂing restricÂtions of theme and senÂtiÂment,” with the result that she came to comÂmand an audiÂence “large, conÂstant, and posÂsessed of an enthuÂsiÂasm which tranÂscends the genÂerÂaÂtions.”
Gould says all this in The Search for PetuÂla Clark, a 23-minute radio docÂuÂmenÂtary that aired on the CBC on DecemÂber 11, 1967, less than three weeks before his much betÂter-known experÂiÂmenÂtal docÂuÂmenÂtary The Idea of North. He sitÂuÂates his analyÂsis of the singer he calls “Pet Clark,” which gets into not just her songs’ themes and lyrics but their techÂniÂcal qualÂiÂties as music, in the conÂtext of a solo road trip around Lake SupeÂriÂor when “Who Am I?” first hit the airÂwaves. So comÂpelled did he find himÂself that he timed his driÂve to get withÂin range of one of the radio staÂtions scatÂtered across the vastÂness of his homeÂland at the top of each hour in order to hear the song over and over again, after 700 miles he got to “know it if not betÂter than the soloist, at least as well, perÂhaps, as most of the sideÂmen.”
Though born withÂin two months of each othÂer in 1932 and thereÂafter livÂing lives dedÂiÂcatÂed to music, Gould and Clark would seem to have litÂtle else in comÂmon. While Gould died at 50, Clark, at the age of 85, conÂtinÂues to both record and perÂform. Gould, as J.D. ConÂnor writes in an essay on The Search for PetuÂla Clark, “stopped perÂformÂing for live audiÂences in 1964. Freed from the rigÂors of the conÂcert cirÂcuit, he dove into radio and teleÂviÂsion at just the moment when he and CanaÂdiÂan state media could parÂlay his immense musiÂcal popÂuÂlarÂiÂty into someÂthing more.” This and the more intriÂcate radio proÂducÂtions that would folÂlow both sprang from and allowed Gould to conÂstruct “a media theÂoÂry of his own. In print, on teleÂviÂsion, and, most imporÂtant, on radio, Gould became the great comÂpleÂment to MarÂshall McLuhan.” And like McLuhan, when Gould obsessÂes over someÂthing that nevÂer seemed to merÂit seriÂous attenÂtion, we’d do well to heed the insights he draws from it.
RelatÂed ConÂtent:
Glenn Gould Explains the Genius of Johann SebasÂtÂian Bach (1962)
Glenn Gould Gives Us a Tour of ToronÂto, His Beloved HomeÂtown (1979)
Based in Seoul, ColÂin MarÂshall writes and broadÂcasts on cities and culÂture. His projects include the book The StateÂless City: a Walk through 21st-CenÂtuÂry Los AngeÂles and the video series The City in CinÂeÂma. FolÂlow him on TwitÂter at @colinmarshall or on FaceÂbook.
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