Amanda Sewell - Wendy Carlos

OXFORD CULTURAL BIOGRAPHIES
Gary Giddins, Series Editor

A Generous Vision: The Creative Life of Elaine de Kooning
Cathy Curtis

Wendy Carlos: A Biography
Amanda Sewell

Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the Universitys objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and certain other countries.

Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press

198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America.

Oxford University Press 2020

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction rights organization. Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above.

You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer.

CIP data is on file at the Library of Congress

ISBN 9780190053468

eISBN 9780190053482

For my father

Edison tamed electricity in the late 1870s. He made it record sound, photograph moving images, and lighten the night. In the ninety years that followed, several musicians and inventors attempted to use electricity not only to build machines that capture and preserve musical performance or amplify instruments already in existence, but to produce the thing itself: the notes and chords and dynamics of music, borne out of that invisible source of energy to create an entirely new palette of sounds and options. Yet the Wilbur-and-Orville of electronic music was a reclusive 29-year-old composer, recording engineer, and lifelong inventor who, working with a Moog modular synthesizer that she custom designed in partnership with its creator Robert Moog, electrified none other than Johann Sebastian Bach.

Today, it may be difficult to imagine the fireworks set-off in the fall of 1968, when Columbia Records released Switched-On Bach. The bestselling classical record of all time, it topped the classical charts for an astonishing three years, ultimately earning Platinum certification, even reaching No. 10 on the pop charts. No mere novelty or dormitory diversion, it was welcomed by no less a Bach-expert than Glenn Gould, who praised its unflagging musicality. Electronic music had arrived, serious excursions as well as shoddy imitations. It was everywhere, in jazz as well as rock, in synthesized transformations of old swing bands as well as the classics.

Still, the guiding force behind Switched-On Bach was nowhere unidentified on the front of the famous album jacket, which credited the work to Trans-Electronic Music Productions, Inc. You had to read the small print on the back to read of her dazzling display of virtuosity, artistry, and genius. Moreover, she was identified as a man, Walter Carlos. For at the very moment she was igniting a musical revolution, she was also in the vanguard of a movement she considered relatively insignificant, gender reassignment. As Amanda Sewell makes rivetingly clear in this brave, important biography, the bias against transgender people was so thick that for over a decade, Carlos hid her identity, fearful of physical as well as critical attacks, on occasion even pasting on false sideburns to impersonate Walter in photo ops. The tragedy and irony of Wendy Carloss career is that while she wished to speak of music (and solar eclipses, for which she traveled the world as an expert photographer), most of the media was more interested in a personal area that she considered invasive and beside the point.

The biographer can have no more difficult a challenge than to choose a living subject. Some subjects are happy to help, but their memories are no longer trustworthy; some offer help as a lever to try and assert control; others do everything they can to obstruct the biographer; and others maintain a zone of silence. Wendy Carlos appears to belong to the last category, and one can only hope that she will appreciate the industry, fairness, and eloquence of Amanda Sewell in tracking down every conceivable document to create this dramatic and convincing portrait of an artist whose story deserves to be told. If Carloss music is unknown to later generations, as it appears to be, it is largely because she removed all of it from the marketplace in 2009; it is almost impossible to find copies of Beauty in the Beast, her score to A Clockwork Orange, and even her Bach recordings. It will be a fine thing if this book encourages her to give her music and us a second chance.

Gary Giddins

Series Editor

I am so grateful to Katie Chapman, Seth Cluett, Jeannette Di Bernardo Jones, Kerry OBrien, Christine Wisch, Reba Wissner, and others for sending me invaluable primary and secondary sources. Archives staff members at the New York Public Library, the Kinsey Institute Library (Indiana University), the Library of Congress, and the Carl A. Kroch Library (Cornell University) facilitated my access to remarkable collections of materials. Thanks also go to Brian Carey at the Woodmere Branch of the Traverse Area District Library and to the staff of the Bonisteel Library at Interlochen Center for the Arts for wrangling my frequent interlibrary loan requests.

Dana Baitz offered invaluable suggestions for framing the manuscript. Des Harmon provided crucial feedback on several aspects of the text. Trevor Pinch generously sent me copies of unpublished materials. I owe Allan Kozinn special acknowledgment for sharing a massive file of resources with me. The information contained in these documents was priceless in shaping the content of this book.

The people whose friendship and mentorship have sustained me throughout this process are innumerable. Dan Melamed provided spiritual and intellectual guidance throughout the process. Lauron Kehrer is my friend, my work wife, and my first go-to for all of my scholarly writing. Norm Hirschy, Oxford University Press editor extraordinaire, has been enthusiastic about this project since its inception. His support at every stage has kept me energized and hopeful, even during some very challenging times.

The research in this book was supported in part by the Judith Tick Fellowship, awarded by the Society for American Music. I also received support from the Paul Charosh Fellowship, awarded by the Society for American Music. My deepest gratitude to my colleagues at Interlochen Public Radio and Interlochen Center for the Arts for their enthusiasm and support.

My husband, Trenton Bruce, is my chef, my teammate, my provider of a constant stream of animal GIFs, and the person who reminds me to step away from the computer at regular intervals and take a break. My parents, Dennis and Leeandra, have supported my professional life unconditionally ever since I first uttered the word musicology to them as an undergraduate student. My fathers terminal illness kept him from being able to understand anything about this book, but there is no doubt in my mind that had he been able, he would have launched a one-man marketing campaign to promote it. I dedicate this book to him.