Time for another one of my periodic essays which do not include a performance review.
It's no surprise to anyone involved in the musical world that the profile of women as composers and as conductors has been rising in recent years. But it may come as a surprise to some audience members who come to concerts without specific foreknowledge of the works being played or the performers playing them.
In just the last month or so, I've encountered a whole series of experiences with music composed by women and orchestras conducted by women, so much so that the appearance of either one is beginning to seem decidedly unremarkable. And I'm really pleased that it's finally possible to have that feeling.
In the nineteenth century, with the rise of music schools, women in a number of countries took up the art of composition and tried to make it their own. It was a heartbreaking struggle. Critics and audiences alike were prepared to accept a woman as a virtuoso performer, and many women musicians also rose to prominence as teachers. But composition? Any woman trying to get her compositions taken seriously was in for a rough ride.
One of the most prominent, Clara Schumann, abandoned her composing career because juggling the responsibilities of family with husband Robert's composing and her own extensive touring as a piano virtuoso simply left her no time.
Or take Fanny Mendelssohn, several of whose compositions were published under the name of her brother Felix. Her father told her that composition might be a profession for her brother, but for her it "could only be an ornament." Ouch.
In France, Louise Farrenc soared to fame as a virtuoso pianist and teacher of the piano, but critics and audiences alike refused to take her prodigious output of instrumental compositions seriously (their loss). One perceptive critic put his finger squarely on the problem when writing about Farrenc shortly after her death. He summed it up by saying that audiences only approved of music by composers whose names they already knew. This problem continues to bedevil the musical world to this day.
Attitudes didn't get much better into the earlier years of the twentieth century. Witness the fact that American composer Amy Beach was consistently described in writing, during her lifetime, as "Mrs. Beach" -- not using her given name, but only her husband's surname.
But change was in the wind, just as it was in the field of women's rights generally.
In England, Ethel Smyth composed a wide range of music in many genres, much of it dismissed by the critics either as not ladylike when she wrote powerful music, or too weak to compare with her male colleagues when she composed more gentle pieces.
However, Smyth became unquestionably the most performed female composer in history in 1911, when her active involvement in the women's suffrage movement led her to compose a song called The March of the Women. Although a challenging piece to perform, this song became the anthem of women's suffrage in Britain and was sung up and down the country at rallies and meetings in many cities and towns.
More than this, Smyth also succeeded in getting every single one of her six operas professionally staged during her lifetime. That's a track record that many better-known composers might envy. Her Mass in D was favourably compared by at least one writer to Beethoven's Missa Solemnis.
During those same early years of the century, two extraordinary sisters were pursuing musical careers in Paris: Nadia and Lili Boulanger. Nadia, the elder, abandoned active composition under her own stern self-criticism and evolved instead into the world's most important and significant teacher of composition. Her leadership in this field, and the influence of her precepts, spanned oceans and crossed generations. Many a famous twentieth-century composer included "studied with Nadia Boulanger" in a professional resume. Among them are such names as Aaron Copland, Philip Glass, Darius Milhaud, and Astor Piazzolla -- to name only a few.
Nadia was also an accomplished conductor, and became the first woman ever to conduct such major orchestras as the BBC Symphony and Halle Orchestras in the United Kingdom, and the New York Philharmonic, Philadelphia, and Boston Symphony Orchestras in the United States.
I can't help wondering if Nadia Boulanger's decision to stop composing (she told Gabriel Fauré that she had written useless music) was in any way conditioned by the tragically brief composing career of her younger sister, Lili.
Lili Boulanger completed only 22 works before dying at the age of 24 of what was diagnosed as "intestinal tuberculosis" (it may have been Crohn's disease). Even in that brief span, she created music of considerable substance, featuring exquisite orchestration, sophisticated vocal and choral lines, and memorable melodic materials. Her music has finally begun to make its mark in recent years, and recordings are now available.
Matters remained much the same throughout much of the twentieth century -- a few composers, a few conductors, and always as outliers who had to be seen as remarkable only after first being seen as "women" -- which left the impression that critics, in their minds, were always thinking, "Excellent work -- for a woman."
But later in the century, change began to occur. Conductors like JoAnn Falletta and Sian Edwards not only led significant performances in major musical centres, but laid down recordings which received the highest praise and made their work far more widely known. In all countries, women appeared more and more prominently in the field of composition too.
And here's where I want to come at last to the musical events of the last month, the sequence of events which triggered this essay.
In each case, I didn't hear any audience members taking particular note of the fact that all kinds of women were cropping up as conductors and composers. The times definitely are a-changing. And I'm smiling as I write these words.
Attitudes didn't get much better into the earlier years of the twentieth century. Witness the fact that American composer Amy Beach was consistently described in writing, during her lifetime, as "Mrs. Beach" -- not using her given name, but only her husband's surname.
But change was in the wind, just as it was in the field of women's rights generally.
In England, Ethel Smyth composed a wide range of music in many genres, much of it dismissed by the critics either as not ladylike when she wrote powerful music, or too weak to compare with her male colleagues when she composed more gentle pieces.
However, Smyth became unquestionably the most performed female composer in history in 1911, when her active involvement in the women's suffrage movement led her to compose a song called The March of the Women. Although a challenging piece to perform, this song became the anthem of women's suffrage in Britain and was sung up and down the country at rallies and meetings in many cities and towns.
More than this, Smyth also succeeded in getting every single one of her six operas professionally staged during her lifetime. That's a track record that many better-known composers might envy. Her Mass in D was favourably compared by at least one writer to Beethoven's Missa Solemnis.
During those same early years of the century, two extraordinary sisters were pursuing musical careers in Paris: Nadia and Lili Boulanger. Nadia, the elder, abandoned active composition under her own stern self-criticism and evolved instead into the world's most important and significant teacher of composition. Her leadership in this field, and the influence of her precepts, spanned oceans and crossed generations. Many a famous twentieth-century composer included "studied with Nadia Boulanger" in a professional resume. Among them are such names as Aaron Copland, Philip Glass, Darius Milhaud, and Astor Piazzolla -- to name only a few.
Nadia was also an accomplished conductor, and became the first woman ever to conduct such major orchestras as the BBC Symphony and Halle Orchestras in the United Kingdom, and the New York Philharmonic, Philadelphia, and Boston Symphony Orchestras in the United States.
I can't help wondering if Nadia Boulanger's decision to stop composing (she told Gabriel Fauré that she had written useless music) was in any way conditioned by the tragically brief composing career of her younger sister, Lili.
Lili Boulanger completed only 22 works before dying at the age of 24 of what was diagnosed as "intestinal tuberculosis" (it may have been Crohn's disease). Even in that brief span, she created music of considerable substance, featuring exquisite orchestration, sophisticated vocal and choral lines, and memorable melodic materials. Her music has finally begun to make its mark in recent years, and recordings are now available.
Matters remained much the same throughout much of the twentieth century -- a few composers, a few conductors, and always as outliers who had to be seen as remarkable only after first being seen as "women" -- which left the impression that critics, in their minds, were always thinking, "Excellent work -- for a woman."
But later in the century, change began to occur. Conductors like JoAnn Falletta and Sian Edwards not only led significant performances in major musical centres, but laid down recordings which received the highest praise and made their work far more widely known. In all countries, women appeared more and more prominently in the field of composition too.
And here's where I want to come at last to the musical events of the last month, the sequence of events which triggered this essay.
- In Halifax, Symphony Nova Scotia featured newly-appointed Music Director Holly Mathieson on the cover of the house programme. The concert I attended there included a second performance of a work commissioned from leading Canadian composer Kelly-Marie Murphy, first played by the orchestra in 2018. That's a not-too-common event as many commissioned works get heard only once.
- Even more striking, in Ottawa I heard a second performance of a work by English-American composer Anna Clyne, given by a different orchestra than the one I heard perform the same work last year.
- In Toronto, guest conductor Elim Chan made her debut with the Toronto Symphony, and opened the concert with a work by American composer Elizabeth Ogonek.
- A few days ago, I heard for the first time ever a performance of three pieces for cello and piano by Nadia Boulanger.
In each case, I didn't hear any audience members taking particular note of the fact that all kinds of women were cropping up as conductors and composers. The times definitely are a-changing. And I'm smiling as I write these words.
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