Related link: http://home.houston.rr.com/rohvicscientific/WenCarlos/ggsob.html

I was enjoying my morning, listening to Wendy Carlos’s Bradenburg
Concertos
while the cats ran up and down the halls, and I was
half-heartedly flipping through the liner notes. I like her because I like Bach, and you may have already
heard her stuff as the soundtracks to href="http://us.imdb.com/title/tt0066921/soundtrack">Clockwork
Orange
and href="http://us.imdb.com/title/tt0084827/soundtrack">Tron.

Glenn Gould’s name in the notes caught my eye. Included in the notes
was href="http://home.houston.rr.com/rohvicscientific/WenCarlos/ggsob.html
">short article on Wendy’s efforts. If he is talking about Wendy,
he is talking about hacking. He liked to think that the artist should
be completely removed from market pressure (i.e. the audience). He
tended to see the world a lot like some open source software people do
today.

He takes a stab at the professional musicians when he points
out Carlos’s technical kung-fu (indeed, she studied Physics as well as
music in college). The Moog synthesizer she used was not
some out-of-the-box, shiny thing—it looked a lot like the early
computers with all of its knobs and exposed wiring
.

And the “performer” for Switched-On Bach is no
professional virtuoso taking time out from the winter tour for a visit
to the recording studio, but a young audio engineer named Wendy
Carlos, who, over a period of many months, produced performed and
conceived the extraordinary revelations afforded by this disc in her
living room.

She was a hacker and beleived in her right to innovate. Her href="http://www.wendycarlos.com/biog.html">biography is more techie
and musical. She virtually sat in her living room with a Moog
synthesizer and electronics she created herself and re-interpreted
J.S. Bach, on her own and off the grid, so to speak. She took her
Moog and works not covered by copyright, and creating something fresh
and amazing. She was working in the middle of the creative commons,
and she beleived in what she was doing. She did it soup to nuts too.
She did not need somebody else’s studio. If she had
an idea, she could just try it, just like a lot of open source
software people do. She could hack the innards, especially since
Bob Moog, the inventor of the device, did not have today’s litigious,
proprietary mindset.

For the real revelation of the disc is its total
acceptance of the recording ethic—the belief in an end so
incontrovertibly convincing that any means, no matter how foreign to
the adjudicative process of the concert hall and even if the master is
white with splicing-tape as this one must have been, is justified.

The result of all this hacking and freedom to innovate? Glenn Gould
concludes [in the liner notes, not the essay]:

Carlos’s realization of the Fourth Bradenburg Concerto
is, to put it bluntly, the finest performance of any of the
Bradenburgs—live, canned, or intuited—I’ve ever heard.