[ARSCLIST] Article on Glenn Gould Archive and Forgery in today's WSJ

[Steve Ramm <Stevramm@xxxxxxx>]

I thought you'd all enjoy this article on the front page of today's Wall  St. 
Journal on the Glenn Gould Archive and some forgeries. Richard Green (ARSC  
Board Member)  is quoted. And, of course it raised some access to archive  
issues. It is a copyrighted article so I edited out a section or two - not very  
relevant)
 
Steve
 
 
A Forged Document 
In a Virtuoso's  Hand
Leads to an Arrest 
The  Peculiar Glenn Gould
Inspires Cult-Like Loyalty;
Doodles and 18  Signatures
By ELENA  CHERNEY
August 29,  2006; Page A1

GATINEAU, Québec -- Late last year, collectibles dealer Roger  Gross offered 
for sale on his Web site a sheet of paper doodled on and signed by  the 
celebrated pianist Glenn Gould. The price: $8,000. 
That posting led to the discovery of a forged copy of the  document in 
Canada's national archives, a police investigation and the arrest of  a Texas woman 
on charges of theft and possession of stolen property. 
The case offers an unusual window into the cult-like world of  hardcore fans 
of Mr. Gould. He rose to international fame at the age of 23 with  his 1955 
recording of Bach's Goldberg Variations and was widely hailed by  critics for 
his brilliant technique and novel interpretations. He also made a  name for 
himself as a notorious eccentric who insisted on humming as he played,  wore a 
hat, overcoat and scarf even in summer and refused to shake hands for  fear of 
injury.      Glenn Gould in London's Festival Hall,  1959 
Reclusive and plagued by physical ailments, real and imagined,  the 
Toronto-born virtuoso added to his own mystique by quitting the concert  stage at the 
peak of his career in 1964. 
Fascination with Mr. Gould has only increased since his sudden  death from a 
stroke at age 50 in 1982. Many fans say they feel drawn to his  persona as 
well as his music. "It's just a fanatical following," says Mary Jo  Watts, who 
moderates an online discussion group devoted to Mr.  Gould.< 
Gouldiana has become more expensive than memorabilia of any other  
20th-century pianist, dealers say. A signed Gould photo in good condition can  fetch up 
to $5,000, compared with about $700 for one featuring the pianist  Arthur 
Rubinstein. "He's in a class of his own," says Mr. Gross, the dealer. "He  was a 
great pianist and a complete wacko." 
Much in the way Elvis fans travel to Graceland, Mr. Gould's  admirers make 
pilgrimages to Ottawa from as far away as Japan to commune with  the Gould 
artifacts on public display, which include his Steinway piano and the  battered 
wooden chair he used instead of a piano stool for all his concerts and  recording 
sessions. "People cry when they see the piano," says Richard Green,  interim 
director of the music section at the Library and Archives. "They love to  
touch it."  
<snip> 
Roger Saydack, a Eugene, Ore., lawyer and music lover, says he  paid about 
$1,200 a decade ago for a signed copy of a Gould portrait by renowned  Canadian 
photographer Yousuf Karsh that is "not of pristine quality" but hangs  in his 
study anyway. "You really get a sense of his presence from it," says Mr.  
Saydack, who also bought a draft of an article Mr. Gould wrote about Arthur  
Rubinstein, complete with Mr. Gould's handwritten notes. 
Most of Mr. Gould's personal papers and belongings ended up in  the 
government archives. Mr. Gould left his estate to two charities, the  Salvation Army 
and the Toronto Humane Society, says executor Stephen Posen.  Shortly after the 
pianist's death, the estate sold the belongings and documents  to the Canadian 
government: 140 notebooks, annotated scores, photographs, copies  of personal 
letters, drafts of compositions and scripts for his radio  documentaries that 
filled a whole room in his Toronto apartment. 
When the archives acquired the collection, professional and  amateur 
researchers descended on the trove before it had been catalogued,  recalls Timothy 
Maloney, a former head of the music section. He says some were  "crazies," such 
as a woman who wanted to see the hotel keys Mr. Gould had  brought home from 
his tours so she could try to visit a room where he had  slept. 
Researchers were generally given access to the original documents  in a room 
with little oversight, Mr. Maloney says. When Mr. Maloney joined the  
department in 1988, he says he was given a list of researchers to watch out for  
because they were "already suspected of lifting some items." The music staff  
couldn't prove anything was missing because the collection was not fully  
catalogued. 
Among those on the suspect list: Barbara Moore, a 62-year-old  artist from 
Texas. Mr. Posen, the executor of the Gould estate, says he granted  her access 
to the collection in the late 1980s to do research on the teaching of  art to 
children. "I liked her and trusted her," says Mr. Posen, who was one of  Mr. 
Gould's lawyers. "I'm very surprised" about the charges against Ms. Moore,  Mr. 
Posen says. 
In the mid-1990s, to protect the Gould material from wear and  theft, the 
archive stopped allowing researchers access to the original  documents, offering 
them microfilm instead. The documents themselves were  transferred from the 
downtown Ottawa library to a new, climate-controlled  concrete preservation 
center in nearby Gatineau. Mr. Gould's personal effects,  including the hat and 
scarf that he wore year-round, were shipped to the  Canadian Museum of 
Civilization for preservation. 
When Gould scholar Kevin Bazzana was researching his 2003 book,  "Wondrous 
Strange: The Life and Art of Glenn Gould," he relied on microfilm to  view 
thousands of pages -- including the 8x10 lined sheet listed for sale by Mr.  Gross 
last fall. Dated March 13 and 14, 1978, the note includes doodles, a list  of 
phone calls to return, a phone number for one contact and an odd reminder to  
"mail letters to myself." 
Mr. Gould also signed the page with 18 variations of his own  signature, 
making the document of interest to Mr. Bazzana because it helps to  support 
anecdotes that suggest Mr. Gould "had these weird superstitious hang-ups  about his 
signature," says Mr. Bazzana. Mr. Gould was known to write checks and  then 
ask for their return so he could tear them up because he was not satisfied  with 
the signature, Mr. Bazzana says. 
Mr. Bazzana recognized the page on Mr. Gross's Web site when a  friend 
alerted him to the sale, and called the Library and Archives to notify  the staff. 
When archivist Cheryl Gillard went to the vault in Gatineau and  opened the 
file, the mystery deepened: the document was still there, exactly  where the 
catalog said it should be. 
Mr. Bazzana, who lives in British Columbia, quickly put in a call  to Mr. 
Gross in New York. By comparing the document in the archives with the one  Mr. 
Gross had bought, the two men concluded that the dealer's copy was likely  the 
original, while the copy that researchers had relied upon for almost 20  years 
was probably a forgery. "The lines were a little bit jagged" on the copy  left 
in the archives, Mr. Bazzana says. 
Mr. Gross says he had bought the paper from Ms. Moore and  believed her 
story: that she had been given the page and another document while  doing her 
archival research. "What she said sounded absolutely plausible," he  says. 
The Library and Archives contacted the New York police. In May,  the 
Manhattan District Attorney, Robert Morgenthau, charged her with theft and  possession 
of stolen property. 
Prosecutors say Ms. Moore also stole an outline for a composition  by Mr. 
Gould that she sold to Mr. Gross. They have asked her to turn over "any  other 
items" that belonged to Mr. Gould, including "articles of clothing," that  she 
might have, says Ms. Moore's lawyer, Shane Brooks. He denies that his client  
has such items and says she was given the doodle and the composition sketch by 
a  government archivist almost 20 years ago. Mr. Brooks declined to make Ms. 
Moore  available for an interview. Both sides are scheduled to appear in court 
in New  York in October. 
A spokesman for the Library and Archives declined to comment  while the case 
is pending. 
Ms. Gillard, the archivist, says she believes the reclusive Mr.  Gould knew 
his life would be laid open for public view after his death -- and  wanted it 
that way, as evidenced by his habit of keeping so many items. "He had  a 
playful personality," she says. "He wanted to live forever. What better way to  do 
it?" 
Write to Elena Cherney at _elena.cherney@xxxxxxxx 
(mailto:elena.cherney@xxxxxxx) 1