This piece is not even my favorite.
I totally wept for a while listening to this.
The execution of the piece was so evocative and so pure, as always with the case with Gould,
yet so unfamiliar of the emotion that I was experiencing.
There was nothing I could do but to sit and wait till everything was over.
There are no artist left alive today who can play like this.
Only once before that I have experienced similar emotion.
But she was a 8 months old baby, who touched a piano for the very first time in her life.
Her mom and I watched her eyes widen in sheer bliss and joy, pressing her tiny finger into the huge
black machine in front of her in amazement.
The baby had no intention to please anyone.
Just her, and magic machine that makes beautiful sounds on her command.
***
By the way, I always thought Gould was talking to Bach through his piano.
Just him, his Steinway (his chair, too-He never played without his chair)
and the composer he never met.
There were no audience, no listeners.
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