カテゴリ：後追い日記８２年( 63 )
There is one more reason why I continued playing the piano after Gould’s death. In the winter of my sixteenth year I suffered such physical pains that I could not even take a moment’s sleep. My face, inside of my mouth and my teeth hurt most. I was being told that rheumatism had gripped my whole body or that I had trigeminal neuralgia, but what my pains actually were – they were the suffering of deceased people. I was assumed by the cries of their spirits.
Every night while I cried I would hear Bach’s Goldberg Variations Aria. Its sounds would come to me every evening at the same hour, together with some kind of a god. And then, that spiritual being told me “You will recover from your illness. When you turn 50 or 60, you will play the piano and pass something to the next generation.”
When I was seventeen I read Nietzsche’s “Thus Spoke Zarathustra”. This coincided with something that happened when I was 16. I had an experience of seeing the sun before dawn with the hermit who appears in this Nietzsche’s work. That is when I became a fan of Nietzsche’s, endeavoring in my heart to fulfill the promise I made when I was 16: “One day, surely…” I am not sure how to translate this paragraph
After Gould’s death, my guiding principle became “Zarathustra”.
“Verily, a goal had Zarathustra; he threw his ball. Now be ye friends the heirs of my goal; to you throw I the golden ball.
Best of all, do I see you, my friends, throw the golden ball! And so tarry I still a little while on the earth – pardon me for it! “ (excerpt from Zarathustra’s “Free Death”, translated by Thomas Common, Dover Publications Inc.)
For me, this “golden ball” is the very Goldberg (Variations) Aria given to me by Zarathustra at the end of my 16th year.
I wanted to know what Gould had to say about Nietzsche. In such a case it would be best to ask the said person for their opinion. However, I do not go ahead and put questions forward by myself. Even when I hear voices of deceased people, I do my best not to get involved in their conversation. Because I don’t want to be led by the nose by invisible voices.
However, I do not hesitate to say to people around me about Gould’s visits.
“Does Gould speak in English or in Japanese?”
“When I understand him, in my mind his words are in Japanese.”
“Does he ever enter your body and plays the piano?”
“Gould is a sensible person, so he doesn’t do such things.”
People react differently to this. Some exasperatedly say “Hmph!” Some give a wry smile, or make a perplexed expression.
There are some who say: “Well, you thought of him so much, something was bound to happen.”
tranlated by Saiko
People are really egoistic things. Several months ago I thought I would be happy if only I could daily practice the piano. I got my long-coveted visa. Even that Gould spoke to me.
Even though my daily life has arranged well, I cannot sit back and relax, and my heart is crackling. Whereas I want to be somewhere within 80 percent in all I do, my way of doing things seems to be straining too hard while counting backwards from the wanted results.
I can compare myself to a person on the margins who once didn’t even have money to buy a plant pot, and who enjoyed at leisure growing her flowers from buds, planting her music seeds in an empty can and raising them in the back alley. Suddenly that person gets thrust into a music factory, working hard but restlessly on the production of music. I also feel stress due to the lack of language talent.
My bohemian troubles have gone, and it was important to get used to the student life.
The lack of humidity in Toronto is a marvel. I remember all that Japanese humidity. I am able to practice because this region is dry.
“It makes me happy when you are playing the piano. You are a good and specially person.”
“What are you crying about now? Which is a suitable prelude for this temperament? Which number do you want to play?”
I feel weird because I can talk with him so much.
I used to be very susceptible to being possessed by the spirits of others. Such life is a very hard one, so now I negate Gould’s visits. Among the spiritualists there are those who communicate their own words as if they were god’s words or words from families of the deceased people. Therefore, whatever I would hear would frighten me greatly.
tranlated by Saiko
next Golden Ball, 1982（37）
Japanese version of Catch-up Diary 1982, （36） November へ
would say. For example ‘Please, enter my body and play the piano’
or something like that…
However, you tell me ‘I am going to my piano lesson now. Please,
don’tlaugh at my lousy playing. I don’t want to be startled in the
middle of my practice.’ You don’t even say ‘My arm hurts, could you
fix it for me please?’ I can se you are a person who finds it difficult
to ask favors
Masako: “Well, it just that nothing occurs to me to ask for.”
G: “Well, an ordinary person would ask me to help them get their
handson part of my vast wealth, for example. You don’t ask for that
M: “I am not in financial troubles. My problem is that I can’t get rid of
mywasteful spending. I am too occupied with my harmony lessons or
history test to think up of favors to asking from you.”
G: “You do have talent for the piano, Mako. However, your piano
willend in two years. Maybe it is not a good thing to tell you
now because it may cause you disillusionment, but the piano you
are whole heartedly practicing at the moment will not really take up
a great part of your life in the future. To make an analogy, it would
be just a tip of your little finger.
You will become a woman who actively tries her talents in many
Furthermore, without any intention, you have been saving deceased
people.You have been sacrificing you own body in order to help
those souls who can’t sort out their feelings even after their death.
Why are you always worrying that you might get ill and not be able to
go to school?
Actually, I used to be like you. I couldn’t look at your worrying face
anylonger, so I came to speak to you. To tell you, you must not
trouble yourself overly.
The young man you are now fretting over so much is not actually a
goodperson. However, you are saving many spirits without realizing
it during these busy days of yours. Looking at the living from this
side, I see many things I was not able to see before. It is better that
Now I know there are virtually no people who can understand you.
I am having a nice time because you are here. When I send signals or
try to speak to my friends and acquaintances, they don’t notice me.
I believed there were such special people like you, though. And then I
ran into you. Someday, you will write about your spiritual meeting with me!
I am praying for your happiness.
Life is a wonder, but there are many wonders after one dies as well.
For example, I can learn almost anything I want to know about you.
Ican see images of what you were recently doing in Niagara, or even
what you parents did many years ago. And I can also see your future.
I can see much deeper in people’s hearts now than when I was alive,
or better to say when my body belonged to this world. I can say I see
far more than I would like to.
I feel sorry for you when I hear you moaning in pain. But you quickly
switch your thoughts from your aching body to something else. That is
why you are managing so well. I know that because, after all, I lived
my life like that too.”
M: “Mr. Gould, you always say interesting things to me. Thank you.
I believe you had a free and happy life. Now that you liberated yourself
from the imprisonment of your corporeal body, you became even freer,
The souls who come to me are mostly those of people with heavy and
bitter feelings. Many of them were victims of other people’s sins and
crimes, so they are under oppression and their bodies are scarred.
There are many who committed suicide, too. When a soul comes to me,
my body convulses, it hurts, I feel nauseated, and there is absolutely
nothing good about it. I suddenly find myself hating the world, or being
unhappy and distressed. However, this happens even if there is no
othersoul in me. I have a feeling I have lived 80 or 90 percent of my
life in such misery.”
I wanted to tell him “If you are really with me all the time, why don’t
you hold my hand and walk with me?” but I could not feel his presence
Maybe Gould transformed into energy that is like the splendid music
heused to perform.
# An Intermission
It is July 23, 1998.
While I was writing my catch-up diary, it occurred to me I hadn’t made an offering to Gould of anything else but the coffee leftovers. I hastily made some black Jacaranda coffee from a Malaysian village of Bukit Merah as an offering for him, and an ice coffee for me.
I thought I heard him say: “Mako, I am happy your life at long last became so tranquil that you can finally make me an offering of a coffee.”
It takes certain courage to actually write down Gould’s words.
Since April 1991 – I was learning Korean hangul at that point – I hadn’t managed to make a contact with him.
When I was about to write my catch-up diary, I thought I would not be able to speak with him as before, and I tried to contact his spirit a number of times.
However, I would just get sleepy as a result.
Remembering Swedenborg who worked while slumbering, I decided to go to sleep in case I could hear Gould in my dreams.
Thirty years ago, almost no information about Gould travelled to Japan.
However, I know even the name of a woman he had been dating at the time.
There is a great number of books now in which fans from different countries wrote their feelings for and memories of Gould.
Among them is a person who can see colours in Scriabin’s sonata performed by Gould.
There is a person who points at the contradiction between Gould as “the last puritan” and his performances that dazzle our senses.
There are also swarms of people who claim that the gods who visited Gould were the same gods that visited Hölderlin.
The first scholar in Japan who conducted a research about Gould was a young Gould’s fan, Miyazawa Jun’ichi.
My feelings towards Gould are not those of love, but of a selfish infatuation.
I just want to say that, like a kawara nadeshiko（*） that is nothing but a yamato nadeshiko（**）, there is a person here who remembers and thinks of Gould as well.
* kawara nadeshiko (Lat. Dianthus superbus), in Japan, one of seven autumn flowers.
Kawara means river banks. Therefore this wild flower stands for an ordinary common being.
**Yamato nadeshiko (Dianthus superbus longicalycinus) is metaphorically associated with traditional, idealized feminine beauty in Japanese culture.
* kawara nadeshiko
photos by Qwert1234 (from wiki)
next October 16, 1982 (35) Conversation with Gould ( continued )
Japanese version of this page 休憩 1982 （34) is here
・独唱 ブラーム作曲 モテットop110-1「されど我は惨めなる者」
・独唱 バッハ作曲 モテットBWV227-3「イエスよ、わが喜び」
・フルート演奏 バッハ作曲 フルートソナタBWV1020から「アレグロ」
・讃美歌 「Now Thank We ALL Our God」
tranlated by Saiko
Catch-up Diary 1982 （34) An Intermissionへ
Japanese version of this page October 14, 1982 (33)
Diary ; October 14
Gould is here the whole day today as well.
All the time, everywhere, we are together.
He was observing me steadily, and as I was standing in the shower
taking my last shirt off, I was wondering if he would still be standing
there even when I were naked.
There is nothing between us in particular, and he looks happy like
a father watching over his newborn child.
Gould looks much younger and happier than when I saw him in
January this year.
I guess the Akashic records, the mother computer of the entire
universe,contains the record of Gould’s and my past.
In my free time I was watching the setting sun from my bed.
I was imagining “If only now Gould’s black car would stop here.”
This imagination may have caused by that kind of energy of the
Why is this awkward thing happening now when I finally got hold of
a decent student life?
I wrote down what I heard last night.
I don’t think this is something I can tell other people.
During the last lesson, I saw him in the air, engulfed in laughter.
“I don’t want you to enter my body and play the piano.”
I was sad because for a long time my piano practice did not proceed
as I hoped it would.
I want to develop my skills as far as possible by my own efforts.
translated by Saiko
next Program of "In Memoriam Glenn Gould " Oct.15,1982
Japanese version of this page October 14, 1982 (33)
“Yes! It’s me. Hello! You noticed me after all. I trusted you would.
I’ve been so excited ever since I came over here. I am satisfied
because telepathy and spiritual world are as I believed them to be.
Also, I am so grateful that my last moments in this world were
Just imagine… me... a person who hated people touching me,
living prostrated in a hospital bed. I am more free now than I was
when I was alive. It was so liberating to discard that broken body
of mine that I had tried to control with medicines.
I’ve received heartfelt messages from people all over the world.”
“Mr. Gould, thank you. There are no words to express how much
encouragement I received through your music.
I hope with all my heart you will rest peacefully in paradise.”
G as Gould :
“More people than I imagined is bearing me in their mind. I was happy
while I was alive, but I am happy now that I left the Earth as well.
I can go now wherever I want to. A moment ago I thought about
my house in Southwood.
That moment I found myself in my living room. There was a phone call
from you from the conservatory.
I remembered then I heard about you from my father.
I was not much interested in you, but I signed 5 records and sent them.
It was so much fun watching you. You were heartily talking about
Nietzsche, is that right?”
M as Masako:
“I am afraid I was thinking about you too much and that my thoughts
may have killed you.”
G: “Oh, no, not at all. Love can never hurt people.”
M: “I can’t call these feelings love.”
And so went this strange exchange.
G: “I thought you a nice person,” he said.
“But it seems you’re not happy at all about me trying to contact you.
At times you would pretend you couldn’t hear me, and at times you
would shake your head. Why is that? I thought you would be happier.
I decided to follow you after you went back to the conservatory to practice.
It is vexing to see you lamenting my death as if “the sun would never shine
on Toronto again” even though I’m by your side like this…
You’re coming to my memorial service on the 15th, right? I am deeply
happy you are thinking of me. ”
G: “Sorry, but follow me till your house. I want someone to talk to.
And you are the only one who can hear my voice.”
M: “Mr. Gould – if you are really Mr. Gould – thank you for coming to me.
However, I do not appreciate being made fun of by a spirit. I have a feeling
as if some lonely soul who has no one to tend its grave is impersonating
Gould and is saying half-truths.
I know from your records and the TV that you speak quickly.
However, that also can be imitated, isn’t that right?
I am sorry but I am very tired. Would you mind coming to meet me
This is how Gould’s and my relationship started.
For a while, Gould’s glittering soul watched out for my life with love and affection.
However, this was a period of abrupt and radical change in my life
since becoming a student at the conservatory of music.
These conversation was a burden for me now that I was absorbed in my studies.
I have felt Gould’s warmth since I heard his first record.
And now that he is coming in the form of a spirit, I still feel his presence as “warmth”.
When I went to bed in the evening, I tried and asked him:
“Mr. Gould, were you used to like coffee? I can leave you some of mine when I am drinking it, if you’d like.”
What a meager and rude offering for the repose of his soul it was,
but that much I could manage. I think I gave such a strange suggestion
because he was an easy-going person and I managed to loosen up
From then onward, whenever I drank coffee, I would always leave
some and offer it to Gould. And ordinary soul would maybe get angry,
saying, “Don’t make a fool of me!” But Gould was kind and tolerant.
translated by Saiko
next October 14, 1982 (33)
Japanese version of this page 1982年32・グールドの言葉その1 はじまり
↓You can see the program of "In Memoriam Glenn Gould "
Program of "In Memoriam Glenn Gould "Oct.15,1982
There were a number of news reports about Gould’s death in Canada at the time. I decided to upload them here.
tranlated by Saiko
next Talking with Gould, Octorber 8, 1982 (32)
Japanese version of this page 「グ−ルド死す」カナダでの報道記事
I see people with red and swollen eyes at the Conservatorium.
There is a gathering to mourn Glenn Gould’s death at the concert hall, and the principal is going to give a speech.
The notice in the corridor says:
“Volunteers for the memorial service for Glenn Gould, please gather
on October 15 at the St Paul’s Bloor Street Church.
All of you who were friends of Gould’s, let’s get together there!”
In the afternoon, I went to 32 Southwood Dr.
Francis’ sister Christina is also at the Smiths’ house.
Francis is a lady who lives with her family in the house where Gould
“I wonder what is Gould doing after his death?” says Christina.
I respond : “Since he was a happy person, he must be resting in
Christina : “You believe Gould will be reborn?”
Me : “I don’t know. I wonder if Gould is Nietzsche’s reincarnation.
He resembled Nietzsche a lot.”
Christina: “Oh, you are interested in Nietzsche?”
Me : “Yes. There is a Nietzsche scholar in Japan who has an idea that
Nietzsche is Hölderlin’s later metempsychosis. The two of them are
Me : ”I think Gould has passed away so early because because I got attached to him so much since I was 13 years old.
Christina: ”No, it’s a love. You only loved him, that’s OK”
“Love? Is this Love? My 17 years' concern on him could not be love.”
I said to myself.
At this moment, Glenn Gould who was born in this house and lived
here well into adulthood,was listening to our conversations.
Francis is a Catholic. She would tell me: “I believe in things like that.”
I was always encouraged by her words like,
“When we first met, I thought you are very different from other
Gould’s fans. You should definitely not give up meeting Gould.”
I am walking from the 32 Southwood Dr. to the Conservatorium.
All kinds of thoughts are spinning in my head.
…Who would have imagined this shocking turn of events?
The man who played music that lifted my spirits and gave me so much encouragement is no longer in this world. I have to go on living
without touching him, without seeing him.
Over my right shoulder I feel warm and soft spiritual presence.
-It cannot be! But it is possible…” –
-It’s just that, I am not ready now. I am too confused –
Himalayan cedar is still growing thickly in the park.
However, the shore of the Lake Ontario that stretches its blue
surface far ahead seems melancholy to my eyes.
In the evening I am going to a piano practice at the Conservatorium.
After 8 o’clock there are few teacher’s lessons, and it is easier for
students to practice.
I noticed a sign pressing low at my cheek. My body is full of pain but
what I feel there is different from that pain. I don’t want to think that
Glenn Gould’s spirit is coming to me. I must not allow myself to lose
my mind under the influence of a spirit. I will just ignore it.
However, once my practice is finished and I am on my way down the
stairs of the main entrance of the Conservatorium I cannot help myself
I ask: “Is it you, Mr. Gould, standing on my right cheek since this
afternoon? If it is you, could you please say something to me?”
That is when Glenn Gould’s words started flowing out like rain.
translated by Saiko
next Canadian news articles about Gould’s death
to Japanese version of this page, October 8, 1982 (31)
I jump into a taxi.
Some hairdresser gave me an awful haircut yesterday, and I can’t even fix this puffed up hair. Bah, nothing to do now, in for a penny in for a pound, as they say.
I hear the voice of my late mother. She is saying something like: “If you go to Buffalo, you can find surprising things there.”
After waiting for quite a while in the embassy in Buffalo, it’s finally my turn. The person before me got the visa he wanted, and is madly jumping around. I wonder if I will be like that?
I am explaining to the female immigration officer: “I was working for the law office of my older sister preparing for the bar examination. However, I came to Canada with the objective to study music. I am covering my current life expenses with the money I saved while working.”
“You have been in Canada on tourist visa for quite a while now.”
“Yes. On the one hand, I like Canada very much, and on the other, no matter how much time passed Glenn Gould was not meeting me. That is why I decided to come here and study in his old school.”
So, during the interview at the immigration office I ended up lying. That was because I got the following advice: “In Western societies it is unimaginable that a fragile younger sister of your age lives thanks to the support from her older sister so you shouldn’t say that. If you say something like that, they will no doubt think you’re working in Canada.”
“Glenn Gould?” murmurs the female immigration officer.
“ I think I saw his name in the newspapers the other day. Now I think of it… he died, didn’t he? Wait here for a minute. I will go and bring that newspaper.”
“What? He’s dead?”
In the newspapers she gave me, there is a big photo of Gould.
I got completely confused and awfully upset.
“What? You didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Your visa has expired 7 days ago. Where on earth were you during that time?”
“They wouldn’t give me a seven-day visa at the immigration office in Toronto. When I made a phone call here I was instructed to leave Canada, so I spent a week in the Niagara Falls City in the United States.
It seems that my honesty was appreciated. The stern expression on the immigration officer’s face softened.
She said, “I will grant you the student visa.”
This is how I got my long-coveted student visa.
I am walking towards the bus depot (a bus stop) and crying out loud. I can’t wipe my tears because of the two bags I am carrying.
Horrible, horrible! I am shocked beyond words.
Gould is not in Toronto anymore.
I cannot believe that!
To a person at the bus stop asking me “Why are you crying so much?” I respond, “A friend of mine died.” I am writing a letter to my family in Japan while waiting for a bus.
Gould is no longer in this world…
What is the point of going back to Toronto when Glenn Gould is no longer there?
While tears are pouring down my face I am reviving the moments of my life spent with Gould, reviving all the time I spent longing for him.
I wrote to the New York office of the Columbia Records and asked if they could give me Gould’s address, adding to the letter exquisite Japanese commemorative postage stamps.
“Columbia Records does not give personal addresses of artists who belong to our record company. Send it to the above address in care of the Columbia Records. We hope to receive you letter soon.”
The postage stamps I had sent were wrapped in a beautiful paper and placed in an envelope. I thought of the wonderful employee in that faraway country who did such a kind job.
Had I known he would die so soon, I would have asked his opinion about my favourite book, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, written by Friedrich W. Nietzsche.
How will I continue with my life now?
The bus entered Canada without difficulties.
In Japan, when I would open the morning newspapers, I often solemnly thought: “If I learned about Gould’s death in Japan, my life would be over.” What a way to learn about his death from the newspapers! And on top of that, from an immigration officer who is giving me a student visa…
When I was in Japan, whenever I saw beautiful scenery, I always thought I wanted to share it with Gould. I believe one year in September I made two small sweet potatoes, and wrote Glenn Gould’s and Masako Hara’s name on each. And then I prayed for the two of them. My mother was appalled.
Once I asked my mother who was dying of cancer, “When you pass to the spirit world, please protect me so I can meet Gould.” Oh, if looks could kill, I would be dead now.
Gould was everything in this world for me.
I can’t express what an encouragement those concertos that the famous Vladimir Golschmann and Gould performed together were for me.
Bach’s Partitas; I loved #5&6 more than Goldberg.
During those bitter times, with his lively music Gould gave me driving force to go through my days and nights.
With piece after piece of his music he continued encouraging me: “One day, you will surely come to Canada.”
My life is one in which spirits would appear from a deep green forest at one time, and in which I would receive comfort from the fountain of music influenced by Gould’s ideas at another.
I feel as if all those times led to this October 7th, 1982.
People who made a legend all ascended to heaven. In my great sorrow, I think of all the days I spent together with Gould’s music.
Today Toronto is wrapped in fog. I can barely see 30 meters ahead of me. This unusual atmosphere reminds me again that Gould has passed away.
When I was changing streetcars I met several of my friends. One look at my face tells them clearly I already know of Gould’s death. They are watching me intently, worry etched on their faces. But, I just can’t force myself to make any conversation with them.
I am calling Mr. and Mrs. Smith from Southwood. They just came back from Gould’s family funeral. They could not reach me, and they were worried about me not getting Canadian visa and having to go back to Japan from the US without knowing about Gould’s death. They thought it would be a great shock for me if I learned about it in Japan.
“I got a student visa! However, Gould’s death was so sudden that it shook me quite badly. I thought he would live till he’s 80.”
“Me too! My husband was also really shocked. They are showing him playing Goldberg tonight on TV.”
That night, Gould’s performance of Goldberg’s Variations was broadcasted on TV. It was a sad introduction to his “new recording”.
In April and May of 1981 Gould made a film of his performance of Goldberg in cooperation with Bruno Monsaingeon. In June the two of them worked hard on its editing at Inn On the Park.
When he finished playing, Gould suddenly drops down his head. Then, he lifts his hands and puts them together and prays to the piano like a Buddhist.
As if he is saying: “This is the last time. Good-bye earthly piano. Good-bye people on the Earth. “
translated by Saiko
next October 8, 1982 (31)
to Japanese version of this page October 7, 1982 (30)