A Titan's Struggle With His Demons

Vladimir Horowitz resides in the memory banks of those of us who were witness to his performances as one of the truly great musicians of his or any other time.
His demonic powers at the piano were like no other known to me, certainly. I was part of his audiences as a young person for probably twenty or more times, and the almost football game -like atmosphere after his final piece was a trade-mark of a typical Horowitz recital or concert.
What is also known to many is the number of times Horowitz was forced to go into 'retirements' during the course of his long career. The overriding cause of his having to give up live performances at several different points in his life was a seemingly uncompromising fear of failure before an audience.
Horowitz grappled with this fear during almost all of his life, having sought counsel and eventually requiring medications to counter a growing depression.
Any of you familiar with a Horowitz performance may well remember the quavering fingers poised above the keyboard, along with his omnipresent handkerchief which was used during every performance to quell his running nose, the most overt symptom of fear, and nervousness arising from this demon.
I vividly remember Horowitz at the first recital I attended (I was about 8), going backstage to get his autograph, and struck by the chalk-white complexion, with not a trace of perspiration, and with those chalk-white hands writing the autograph. It was almost as if he had been covered by chalk dust.
This struggle accompanied him until the age of about 75, when for reasons undecipherable, the fear vanished, and for the remaining period of his career he truly enjoyed performance without condition. It was during this period that he began appearing at such occasions as disco parties in New York and elsewhere, and really got down to wearing a different bow-tie at each social
occasion. It has been reliably reported that his collection of bow-ties numbered around 600!
There were other challenges as well. I am not clear as to whether cancer was an issue; however, his prostate was removed later in life (I can only guess that it may have been in the early 80's, as I recall that he looked really rather wan at that time).
Socially, I can surmise that he was simply a teen-ager in spirit; for instance, David Dubal, a professor of music in New York, and a friend of Horowitz, recalls that at a particular occasion at the Horowitz home, with several friends, including some ladies present, Horowitz suddenly got off his favorite place on his favorite sofa and pronounced that "I have to go pee."
He never ate meat, and ate fish almost every day. He remained quite lean through most of his
life, gaining a few pounds during the final decade.
He died, suddenly, in 1989, slipping to the floor not far from his oldest friend, his piano.
Horowitz once quipped, "I am famous, but not well-known."
One of a kind.