The later lives of child prodigies

Was Garland's choice strictly about artistry? Ex-prodigies understandably can be at odds with reality, one symptom being their financial lives. Garland had chronic money problems, even at the height of her MGM movie fame. Unlike Durbin, she had to keep working and find new ways to fascinate her public. The famine-to-feast world of showbiz salaries always promises a quick fix (not that such wealth necessarily materializes).

The survivors who flourish are those whose talent and personalities are varied enough that they can craft an entirely new life, both personally and artistically, that ensures they won't become their own ghosts. Howard, for example, has created such a rich and varied output as a filmmaker that you barely remember that he was once Little Opie. Foster's adult life as a director and actress goes well beyond her early brilliance in Taxi Driver.

The survival rate may be higher than it appears. But casting a long shadow over all of them is Mozart, the greatest prodigy of all, who appeared to be in creative decline when he died at age 35.

The mythology suggests that his impossible, post-prodigy personality alienated him from the power brokers of his era. Recent scholarship, however, suggests he was just going through a bad patch, had to take second-rate stage projects with impossible deadlines, and, thanks to 18th-century medicine, simply got sick and died.

Had he survived his final illness, might he have created an archetype of young talents who are expected to survive and thrive? Or does the world rebel against the idea that the supremely gifted can also be happy?

Contact music critic David Patrick Stearns at dstearns@phillynews.com.