Resilience. Persistence. Endurance. These are three qualities I know to be essential for longevity and productivity in the performing arts (note I am studiously avoiding the word “success” due to its many connotations and connections to what I call the “myth of talent”). I was reminded of this fact when I went to see the recent Tapestry Opera world premiere production of Gould’s Wall–a new opera that has an artist’s unique voice and personal inner strength and resilience at heart. It featured the extraordinary abilities of a young soprano and aerialist (!), Lauren Pearl, in the role of Louise, a young piano prodigy who is mentored by the spirit of Glenn Gould (sung by veteran tenor Roger Honeywell, looking very Gouldian in his jaunty cap and fingerless gloves). One of the most moving moments of the show, for me at least, was the final scene, where Louise finally scales the wall all the way to that top window (on the right of the picture above). Clearly winded from the exertion of the climb (the singer was in harnesses and scaled the former exterior wall of the Royal Conservatory as though she was rock climbing, all the while belting out incredible sounds–quite a feat!), Pearl heaved some heavy breaths as she sat on the windowsill contemplating the view. Then she looked down from whence she had come and said: “Again!”, her voice exuding both exhilaration and anticipation. There was no “there” to get to: she was at the top, but she recognized that the journey is the path. And that the journey begins again and again, and new paths are continually charted, each one unique and fraught with challenges and triumphs.
There was another especially poignant moment where Gould himself said something like: “there will be days when you are perfect. And there will be days when you fail and are disastrous. And then you will be great again”. Those weren’t the exact words, but that was the general drift. It resonated.
As I sit here contemplating the (rapidly approaching) new academic year and considering the elements I want to embed in my teaching, these sentiments are vibrating in my head and body. There is always so much to share and teach, but you can’t teach it all. We are never perfect, we will always be found wanting. There will always be walls to climb, but there are moments of repose when we can look out and marvel and where we’ve come from. And then we go back and do it all again.