Claribel was present at that meeting but as a young child she didn't fully understand the significance as she sat off to the side reading a book she'd brought along. As the two men chatted, laughed and played the piano she continued reading but the memory of that day has remained strong.
We dedicate this book to the memory of Glenn Gould and Harold Cone. They are ever present.
Glenn Gould Drives
for C.C.
Glenn Gould heads north out of Toronto
looking for solace, a place to think.
He packs his burgundy 1972 Ford LTD
station wagon with travel essentials;
extra scarves and gloves, books, sheet music
eight track tapes, a flask of strong tea
and a sleeve of Ritz crackers.
Leaving town he drives through two red lights
and stops at a green light
humming his way through the Goldberg Variations
thinking of Bach and harpsichords
thinking of the new Steinway
being created for him, playing it as he hums
and drives into the northern darkness.
Luminous fields of snow slide by
as he tunes in New York and the Philharmonic
the AM radio crackling just a bit
but he thinks to himself;
"Beethoven never sounded so good".
Glenn Gould drives
and Cassiopeia appears in the sky
like a glittering diamond necklace–
he sees an upward bound diatonic in sixths
and drives on into the night.
Harold Cone
What does a concert pianist do
when the piano is out of order
when his fingers freeze in an unheated hall
when a steeply sloping stage threatens to slide him
and the piano and chair into the orchestra pit
when camera fans use flashbulbs
or even come on stage during a concert
when hundreds of breath-takingly beautiful flowers
are presented as gifts as he boards the train?
The pianist must simply compose himself
with humility and wonder.
