Philip Glass
Words Without Music: A Memoir
[Faber and Faber]
Words Without Music follows Glass from a childhood in Baltimore to travels around India and Tibet, washing up in New York, where Glass held down any number of jobs, being unable to compose full-time until he was 41. Music students will get a lot out of Words, with descriptions of how Glass mastered counterpoint in Paris, pushed minimalism to breaking point in Music in Twelve Parts, and grappled with his first opera on Einstein on the Beach. But the memoir borrows too much from Glass’s minimalist style by omitting large chunks of biography. Glass’s famous rift with rival composer Steve Reich is left out, and his two ex-wives and last two kids get nary a mention. Perhaps this reflects Glass’ single-mindedness in art at the expense of the personal.
Words is no substitute to Glass’s grand symphonic works, which, in their simple mantra-like repetition, achieve a kind of transcendental state in the listener that must be in line with the meditation Glass himself practices. As the title suggests, Glass is someone who keenly feels the limitations of words, counting Beckett and Ginsberg among past collaborators. Maybe this is why the book comes packaged with a disc of Glass’s Etudes.
Words: Eoin Tierney
