Revised Edition

An Anthology of

Source Readings from

the Middle Ages

to the Present

Women i
Edited by

Carol Neuls-Bates
 Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2018 with funding from
Kahle/Austin Foundation

https://archive.org/details/womeninmusicanthOOOOneul
WOMEN IN MUSIC
WOMEN
IN MUSIC
An Anthology of Source Readings
from the Middle Ages to the Present

REVISED EDITION

Edited by Carol Neuls-Bates

Northeastern University Press

BOSTON
 *

Northeastern University Press edition 1996

Copyright 1996 by Carol Neuls-Bates

All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages for the purposes
of criticism and review, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, record¬
ing, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be
invented, without written permission of the publisher.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Women in music : an anthology of source readings from the Middle Ages
to the present / edited by Carol Neuls-Bates,—2nd ed.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references (p. ) and index.
ISBN 1-55553-239-X (cloth : alk. paper).—ISBN 1-55553-240-3
(pbk. : alk. paper)
1. Women musicians. 2. Women composers. I. Neuls-Bates, Carol.
ML82.W65 1996
780'.82—dc20 95-17460 MN

Printed and bound by Edwards Brothers, Inc., Ann Arbor, Michigan. The
paper is Glatfelter, an acid-free sheet.

MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

99 5 4 3
Contents

Introduction xi

Introduction to the 1995 Edition xvii

MIDDLE AGES

1 Women as Singers in Christian Antiquity 3

2 Music in an Early Community of Women 6
3 Life at a Twelfth-Century Benedictine Convent 11
4 Hildegard of Bingen: Abbess and Composer 14
5 Three Women Troubadours 21
6 Women Among the Minstrels and as Amateur
Musicians 28

RENAISSANCE

7 The Renaissance Lady 37

8 Vocal and Instrumental Music Performance at an
Italian Convent 43
9 The Rise of Women as Virtuoso Singers 50

BAROQUE

10 Francesca Caccini: Singer-Composer 55

11 Elisabeth-Claude Jacquet de la Guerre: Composer
and Harpsichordist 62
12 The Venetian Conservatories 65

CLASSIC PERIOD

13 Music as an Accomplishment 73
14 Marianne von Martinez: Composer and Singer 80
15 Maria Theresia von Paradis: Pianist on Tour 85
vi CONTENTS

16 Corona Schroter and Julie Candeille:

Two Composers Speak Out 87

1820-1920

Women as Concert Artists and in Opera

17 Clara Schumann: Pianist 91

18 Amy Fay: Pianist 109
19 Lillian Nordica: Operatic Soprano 122
20 Margaret Blake-Alverson: Contralto 131
21 Sissieretta Jones: Soprano 135

Four Composers
22 Fanny Mendelssohn Hensei 143
23 Clara Schumann 153
24 Ethel Smyth 156
25 Luise Adolpha Le Beau 167

A Composer's Wife
26 Cosima Wagner 175

Women as Amateur Performers, Music Teachers,

and Music Patrons
27 The Female Amateur: From Accomplishment
to Achievement 179
28 Women as Teachers 184
29 Women as Patrons in the Club Movement 188

Women as Orchestral Musicians

30 The Vienna Damen Orchester in New York, 1871 192
31 Caroline B. Nichols and the Boston Fadette
Lady Orchestra 194
32 Camilla Urso on Professional Equity
for Women Violinists, 1893 198
CONTENTS vii

33 Should Women Perform in the Same

Orchestra with Men? 202

The "Woman Composer Question "

34 George Upton: A Classic Formulation of

Women's Inferiority 206
35 Helen J. Clarke: Regarding Unequal Education
in the Past 211
36 Frederick Meadows-White: Regarding the "Great
Composer" Aspect of the Question 214
37 Amy Fay: Women Have Too Well Aided Men 217
38 Mabel Daniels: Fighting Generalizations
About Women 219
39 A Corollary to the Question: Sexual Aesthetics
in Music Criticism 223

1920-1981
A Patron and an Educator
40 Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge: Patron of Chamber
Music 231
41 Nadia Boulanger: Teacher of Composers 239

Women in the Orchestral Field from the 1920s

to the 1940s
42 Women's Symphony Orchestras 247
43 American Women Demand "Mixed" Orchestras 251
44 Three Musicians Recall Their Careers: Antonia Brico,
Frederique Petrides, and Jeannette Scheerer 253

An American Pioneer for Minorities

45 Marian Anderson: Contralto 273

The "Woman Composer Question " Revisited

46 Ethel Smyth: "Female Pipings in Eden" 278
47 Carl E. Seashore: "Why No Great Women
Composers?" 297
Vlll CONTENTS

Three Composers
48 Ruth Crawford-Seeger 303
49 Elisabeth Lutyens 312
50 Nancy Van de Vate 323
•V

1982-1995

51 The Women's Philharmonic 335

52 Joan Tower: Composer 343
53 Marcia J. Citron: Musicologist 359

Select Bibliography 373

Index 387
Illustrations

page
12 Nunnery Officials and Procession, from a manuscript dated ca.
1300. (The British Library, London)
15 Hildegard of Bingen, from a twelfth-century manuscript. (Hes-
sische Landesbibliothek, Wiesbaden)
23 The Countess of Dia. (Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris)
23 Castelloza. (Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris)
29 Women in a Procession Singing and Playing Handbells and Small
Drums, from a late-fourteenth-century manuscript. (Oster-
reichische Nationalbibliothek, Vienna)
30 A Jongleresse with Handbells, from a late-tenth-century manu¬
script. (Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris)
31 Sappho with a Harp, from a Boccaccio manuscript, ca. 1470. (The
New York Public Library)
32 The Lady at the Positive Organ, from The Woman with the Uni¬
corn tapestries, late fifteenth century. (Musee de Cluny, Paris)
33 Music Making at the Court of Duke Rene II of Lorraine. (Biblio¬
theque Nationale, Paris)
40 April: The Group of Lovers, Francesco del Cosa, 1470. (Civico
Gabinetto Fotografico, Ferrara)
41 Three Young Women Performing Claudin de Sermissy's Chanson
"fouyssance vous donneray," ca. 1530. (Schloss Rohrau, Vi¬
enna)
42 Woman Playing a Viol, Tobias Stimmer, 1570s(?). (The New York
Public Library)
57 Lady Playing the Virginals, Wenceslaus Holler, 1635. (The New
York Public Library)
58 The Sense of Hearing, Abraham Bosse, 1636. (The Metropolitan
Museum of Art)
59 Woman with a Lute, Joannes Vermeer, ca. 1664. (The Metropolitan
Museum of Art)
67 Gala Concert in the Casino Filharmonico, Francesco Guardi, eigh¬
teenth century. (Alte Pinakothek, Munich)
X ILLUSTRATIONS

page
75 The Song, Francesco Bartolozzi, after H. Bunbury, late eighteenth
century. (The New York Public Library)
76 Lady with a Harp: Elizabeth Ridgely, Thomas Sully, 1818. (The
Metropolitan Museum of Art)
82 Mme. Favart, Frangois Hubert Drouais, 1757. (National Gallery
of Art, Washington)
102 Clara Schumann and Joseph Joachim, Adolph Friedrich Menzel,
1854. (F. Bruckmann, Munich)
124 Lillian Nordica as Elsa in Lohengrin. (Robert Tuggle)
137 Sissieretta Jones. (The New York Public Library)
145 Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel. (The New York Public Library)
158 Ethel Smyth at the Piano and Singing, John Singer Sargent, 1901.
(National Portrait Gallery, London)
238 Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge. (The New York Public Library at Lin¬
coln Center)
241 Nadia Boulanger. (The New York Public Library at Lincoln Center)
260 Frederique Petrides and the Orchestrette of New York. (Aura Pe-
trides)
275 Marian Anderson. (The New York Public Library at Lincoln Center)
306 Ruth Crawford-Seeger. (Library of Congress)
336 JoAnn Falletta, Music Director of the Women's Philharmonic.
336 Players in the Women's Philharmonic. (Courtesy of Kit Morris)
-37
Introduction

This anthology of source readings concerns the work of women

in Western art music: chiefly as composers and performers, and
to a lesser extent as patrons and educators. Many readings feature
notable women, whereas others focus on lesser-known figures
and on the collective activity of women in informal music making,
as performers in convents, conservatories, and orchestras and as
composers. The anthology does not pretend to trace the entire
history of women in music, but it does outline parts of the history
and charts the progress achieved by women in the professional
arena. For although women have always made music, they have
been subject to limitations and prescriptions; historically they
have been encouraged as amateurs but not as professionals.
There are three broad purposes to the book. The first is to
present vivid, contemporary accounts of women musicians, most
often told in the words of the women themselves. A second aim
is to call attention to the ways in which particular women have
been able to obtain the encouragement, training, and opportuni¬
ties necessary for a professional career, these advantages having
been far less accessible to women in the past than to men. And
third, the anthology seeks to illuminate women's experience by
presenting examples of the prescriptive literature that has advised
women at earlier times about their proper roles in music.
A few readings portray the female amateur, but the majority
are about the professional or aspiring professional, and of these
the major share date from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
This imbalance reflects not only the availability of materials but
also the increased participation of women in the field, made possi¬
ble chiefly by the introduction of conservatory training. Indeed,
before the rise of conservatories in Europe and the United States
in the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, women musicians
typically came from a limited number of backgrounds: the con¬
vent; the aristocracy, in which case women could command educa-
Xll INTRODUCTION

tion, although in many instances only with men's consent; and

finally, those families of musicians who nurtured their daughters'
talents as well as their sons'. But even if a solid education in
music could be obtained, there were additional obstacles facing
women as professional performers and composers, and at the risk
of creating a bleak mood in an introduction to a book that is
overwhelmingly positive about what women have been able to
achieve, it is only fitting that the restrictions against women
should be reviewed here briefly.
The initial obstacle was the exclusion of women as singers from
the church, beginning in the fourth century, in keeping with
the Pauline injunction Mulier in ecclesia taceat.1 As some com¬
pensation, women could and did make music in their separate
convents, but these institutions hardly offered a scope of activities
comparable to those available to male musicians in the church
at large. Second, when women did establish themselves as profes¬
sional singers in the mainstream in Italy late in the sixteenth
century, thereby creating a demand for their high sound, the
Catholic Church—in the throes of the Counter Reformation—
advanced the castrato.2
In church castrati sang the treble parts that traditionally had
been entrusted to falsettists and boys. Their real triumph, how¬
ever, was in the new Baroque genre of opera seria, where they
sang heroic male roles and were rivaled in popularity only by
the female soprano. And since women were banned from the
stage in parts of Italy and also north of the Alps, in fear for
their respectability, castrati sang women's roles too, both in opera
seria and comic opera.3 Only with the decline of the castrati
late in the eighteenth century did women achieve their rightful
place in all opera. Concurrently they were accepted as solo artists
in the expanding concert life of the time, but not until the nine¬
teenth century could they generally participate in choruses and
1. Let women keep silence in church.
2. Owen Jander, "Singing," The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musi¬
cians, ed. Stanley Sadie (London: Macmillan, 1980), vol. 17, pp. 341-42.
3. Thomas Walker, "Castrato," The New Grove Dictionary, vol. 3, pp. 875-
76. The castrato was not accepted in France, and women as solo singers were
prized.
INTRODUCTION Xlll

church choirs, with the exception of the Catholic and some Angli¬
can churches.
As instrumentalists women in the past faced restrictions because
of the sexual stereotyping of instruments that began during the
Renaissance with the rise of instrumental music. Women were
expected to cultivate "feminine" instruments—instruments re¬
quiring no alteration in facial expression or physical demeanor.
Accordingly, keyboard instruments such as the harpsichord and
the piano were deemed especially desirable, all the more because
they could be played at home. Other "feminine" instruments
included the viol and the lute in the Renaissance and the Baroque
eras, and the harp and the guitar in the Classic and Romantic
periods.
By contrast, "masculine" instruments were more numerous:
winds, brass, percussion, the larger strings, and also—for more
than the first two hundred years of its existence—the violin.
Not all women, of course, observed these prescriptions, and in
unique circumstances such as Italian convents late in the Renais¬
sance and in the Venetian conservatories for women during the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, described in Readings 8
and 12, women played a great variety of instruments. But for
women in general, the psychological pressure to conform was
considerable. Only with the second half of the nineteenth century
did the choice of instrument among women widen significantly,
and even today the effects of sexual stereotyping linger.
Regarding professional opportunities for women instrumental¬
ists in early periods, women were active among the minstrels of
the High and Late Middle Ages, and also in Renaissance convents
as noted above; elsewhere in the Church, however, at courts, or
in theater orchestras in the Baroque era, opportunities were not
open to them. As concert artists, women keyboard players and
violinists found acceptance beginning in the eighteenth century,
thereby gaining recognition for women of their fine interpretive
powers as instrumentalists. Nevertheless, orchestras and other
ensembles remained closed, all-male affairs, in part because as
solidified groups they could easily resist change. Subsequently
the all-female orchestras and chamber ensembles of the late nine-
XIV INTRODUCTION

teenth and twentieth centuries proved positive ways in which

women players and conductors reacted to their exclusion and
found experience and employment by advancing their own insti¬
tutions.
Women's work in composition in the past was directly related
to the restrictions placed on them as singers and instrumentalists,
for it must be remembered that until the nineteenth century
the roles of composer and performer were totally intertwined.
Women accordingly came to composition through the convent
in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, as secular singers beginning
in the second half of the sixteenth century, and as keyboard
players and violinists beginning in the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries, respectively. Typically these women wrote the kinds
of music that fit into their professional situations, which were
more limited than men's. They did compose large works but not
in the same proportion as men, simply because they did not hold
the prestigious positions that offered optimum opportunities for
performance as well as crucial on-the-job training. In short, women
were not maestri di capella at courts and churches; they did
not head opera companies and orchestras.
Because of male domination in the composition field and the
age-old association of musical creativity with masculinity, natu¬
rally some women composers in the past—particularly the earliest-
known women—were hesitant about advancing their work. Mad-
dalena Casulana, for instance, in the mid-sixteenth century and
Barbara Strozzi in the mid-seventeenth both wrote in the dedica¬
tions of their earliest publications about the humility they felt
as women. A similar hesitancy does not seem to have affected
Francesca Caccini or Elisabeth-Claude Jacquet de la Guerre, who
are among the earliest composers represented in the anthology,
but the theme certainly surfaces a number of times in later read¬
ings.
With the proliferation of conservatories in the nineteenth cen¬
tury, the number of women who were able to train for professional
careers increased dramatically. At first female conservatory stu¬
dents were accepted only in performance, but by the end of the
century, as a result of the efforts of many a pioneer, women
INTRODUCTION XV

could enroll in theory and composition classes at most institu¬

tions. As a consequence of their increasing numbers, and also
in response to the momentum generated by the first wave of
the women's movement as a whole, women in music in the years
1880-1920 were more widely active than ever before. Among
solo artists, many women reigned supreme as singers, pianists,
and violinists of international stature. More and more women
aspired to careers in composition, thus drawing attention to their
presence in the field and generating the "woman composer ques¬
tion." The activity of women instrumentalists as players of an
increasing variety of instruments and their interest in performing
in orchestras and other groups has already been mentioned. Fi¬
nally, there were two other major developments: the emergence
of women as music teachers, typically as private teachers of weekly
pupils, and the work of women as music patrons in the club
movement.
Since 1920 women have continued to press for acceptance in
the musical mainstream as performers, composers, and educators,
and with the growth of the modern music industry they have
also figured importantly as managers and administrators and in
related capacities. In the United States the greatest gains have
been the integration of all orchestras, which began during World
War II, the acceptance of minority women performers, and the
strides made by women conductors and composers in recent years,
aided by the new wave of the women's movement. Once again
women and their supporters have focused attention on the inequi¬
ties women still face and have sought to dispel remaining preju¬
dices. And as with the earlier wave, the women's movement today
has created a strong interest in determining women's experience
in history. It is to be hoped that the voices in this anthology
will enable us to achieve a better understanding of the past as
well as of the present position of women in music.

Some statements about the decisions I made as editor in assem¬

bling the anthology seem in order. In choosing the selections I
was motivated to represent a variety of experiences among women
over time, and naturally, since this was to be a reader of firsthand
XVI INTRODUCTION

accounts, there were some notable women I would have liked

to represent but couldn't because of the lack of suitable materials.
For similar reasons there are some time gaps. A number of selec¬
tions are being newly published, whereas others are appearing
in English translation for the first time. Within the 1820-1920
and 1920-1981 categories, multiple readings on similar topics have
been grouped together, and hence the order throughout the entire
two categories is not always strictly chronological.
In the interests of authenticity I have retained the punctuation,
grammar, and all other aspects of the original texts, except for
inserting umlauts in German words for publications that origi¬
nated in England and conforming Leipsic to Leipzig. Regarding
women's names, I have tried to use the forms they preferred or
prefer. Generally I dislike referring to women, or men, in print
by their first names, but in the case of annotations for readings
where families of musicians were involved, it was frequently less
confusing and cumbersome to use first names alone to distinguish
women from their male relatives.
Specific works of music in the readings have been identified
in all but ambiguous situations, and first names have been supplied
for less well-known musicians and other figures in the past, with
the exception of a few cases in which the people could not be
identified with certainty. Similarly I have defined specialized mu¬
sical terms, although a basic familiarity with music has been taken
for granted. Naturally there are many topical allusions in the
texts, but I felt I needed to explain only those that might be
obscure.
Many people have aided me in compiling this anthology, and
I wish I had the space to thank them all by name. Special thanks
to Jane Bowers, Barbara L. Grant, Judith E. Olson, Judith Tick,
and Gretchen Wheelock.
Introduction to the 1995 Edition

March 1995

It is gratifying to have been asked to bring out a new edition of

my anthology for 1995, and similarly gratifying to acknowledge
here the progress of both the women's movement and women in
music since 1982, when the anthology first appeared. Certainly
more women are active today as composers, performers, educa¬
tors, arts administrators, writers, and so on, than ever before,- and
notwithstanding fluctuations in the job market, women have
been able to advance on most fronts. There are very many more
scores and recordings available of works by women composers,
and the growth of the literature about women in their various
roles is striking. Meanwhile, college courses on women in music
have proliferated; and since 1982, I believe, awareness about
women in music has also grown within our general culture. I like
to think that this anthology has played a part in some of these
developments and that its reappearance in a new edition likewise
bodes well.
In updating and expanding the anthology for 1995, I faced
many choices, as well as space limitations. I decided on three new
readings covering selected developments of the 1980s and early
1990s and, in addition, a new bibliography. All three readings
continue in the concert music tradition of the 1982 book, as I felt
there was not adequate room to treat other areas. The logical first
choice was the Women's Philharmonic of San Francisco, which—
since 1981—has revived the women's orchestra tradition that
began in the 1870s and 1880s, devoting itself to performing the
works of both present and past women composers. Second, I
wanted to include an interview with a major composer of the
1980s-1990s focusing more specifically upon her own career and
works than did the interview with Nancy Van de Vate in Reading
#50, which purposely emphasized women as composers and
XViii INTRODUCTION TO THE 1995 EDITION

women's collective status. Joan Tower graciously agreed to be in¬

terviewed to fill this bill.
Third, I wanted to focus attention on the new feminist scholar¬
ship. While this anthology and much of the work done about
women through the mid-1980s represents compensatory history,
the new scholarship has taken the inquiry about women in music
beyond this level, to the exploration of gender issues and gender
bias. Thus, a second interview features musicologist Marcia J.
Citron, who discusses her evolving research on historical women
and the new scholarship. Last, but hardly least, the new bibliogra¬
phy directly reflects the explosion of works on women since 1982;
it is not only more than double the size of the 1982 bibliography
but also more selective.
Changes in the 1982 texts have been few. Several names of
minor figures in the anthology—and/or information about
them—have been clarified. Also, four women who were living
when the anthology originally appeared are now deceased: Elisa¬
beth Lutyens, d. 1983; Frederique Petrides, d. 1983; Jeanette
Scheerer, d. 1984; and Antonia Brico, d. 1989. Minor adjust¬
ments have been made in the readings about them. Otherwise,
the vintage 1982 readings are now being made available again.
From the beginning, I have always loved the many different
voices in this anthology. I am delighted that they will now be
heard by so many more readers in this new edition.
MIDDLE AGES
1 WOMEN AS SINGERS IN CHRISTIAN
ANTIQUITY

Although early Christians preached the spiritual equality

of all people, they denied women full participation in religious
life, initially excluding them from the priesthood. Women were
important as singers, however, both as members of the congrega¬
tion and in choirs through the fourth century. After the legaliza¬
tion of Christianity in the Roman Empire with the Edict of
Milan in A.D. 313, the Church began to perfect its organization
and standardize practices. Congregational singing was gradually
abandoned, beginning in the second half of the fourth century,
and all musical portions of services were entrusted to profes¬
sional choirs of men and boys. Two accounts here describe the
participation of women as singers before they were officially
silenced. The first is by Philo, Judaeus, dating from the first
century, about religious song and dance among the Therapeutae,
a community of Jews in Egypt who had become partially Chris¬
tianized.

The vigil is conducted on this wise. They all stand up in a

crowd, and in the midst of the symposium first of all two choirs
are formed, one of men, and one of women, and for each, one
most honoured and skilled in song is chosen as a leader and direc¬
tor. Then they sing hymns composed to the praise of God, in
many metres, and to various melodies, in one singing together
in unison, and in another antiphonal harmonies, moving their
hands in time and dancing, and being transported with divine
enthusiasm, they perform one while lyric measures, and at another

John Julian, ed., Dictionary of Hymnology (London: John Murray, 1925),

p. 206.
4 WOMEN IN MUSIC

tragic plainsong, strophes and antistrophes, as need requires. Then

when each chorus, the men separately, and the women separately,
had partaken of food by itself, as in the feasts of Bacchus, and
quaffed the pure God-loving wine, they mingle together and be¬
come one choir out of two—the mimetic representation of that
of yore standing on the shore of the Red Sea on account of the
miracles wrought there. To this (the singing of the Son of Moses)
the chorus of the male and female Therapeutae afforded a most
perfect resemblance with its variant and concordant melodies;
and the sharp searching tone of the women together with the
baritone sound of the men effected a harmony both symphonious
and altogether musical. Perfectly beautiful are their motions, per¬
fectly beautiful their discourse, grave and solemn are these carol-
lers; and the final aim of their motions, their discourse, and their
choral dances is piety.

The Spanish Abbess Egeria made a lengthy pilgrimage to the

Holy Places in the East late in the fourth—or possibly early
fifth—century, about which she wrote a richly detailed account.
Egeria clearly was a woman of stature: she traveled with a retinue
of her own, and she met with abundant hospitality wherever
she went. Her description of a service in Jerusalem at daybreak
notes the involvement of women as singers together with men.

Each day before cockcrow, all the doors of the Anastasis [the
Church of the Resurrection with the Holy Sepulchre] are opened,
and all the monks and virgins come down—the monazontes and
the parthene as they are called here—and not only they, but
laymen as well, men and women who wish to rise very early.
From this hour until dawn, hymns are sung, and responses are
made to the psalms, and likewise to the antiphons;* 1 and after

George E. Gingras, ed. and trans., Egeria: Diary of a Pilgrimage, Ancient Christian
Writers: The Work of the Fathers in Translation, no. 38 (New York: Newman
Press, 1970), p. 89.
1. While Egeria makes an early distinction here between psalm and antiphon,
Gingras, as translator, indicates that her exact meaning is not clear. The later,
standard use of the antiphon to frame a psalm is not implied.
MIDDLE AGES 5

each hymn a prayer is said. Priests in groups of two and three,

and a like number of deacons, take turns on successive days in
coming at the same time as the monks, and after each hymn or
antiphon they recite prayers. At the time when it begins to grow
light, they start singing the morning hymns. Then you see the
bishop come in with his clergy. He immediately goes into the
grotto, and from within the railings he recites first a prayer for
all the people, then he himself mentions the names of those
whom he wishes to commemorate, and he blesses the catechu¬
mens. Then, after he has said a prayer and blessed the faithful,
the bishop comes out of the grotto sanctuary, whereupon all pres¬
ent come forth to kiss his hand, and he blesses each of them in
turn as he goes out. And so the dismissal is given, and by now
it is daylight.
2 MUSIC IN AN EARLY COMMUNITY
OF WOMEN

While women were forbidden to sing in the Church at

large, they pursued music within their own religious institu¬
tions—the convents. As refuges of worship and peace, these
female communities offered women an opportunity for self-ex¬
pression and some scope in leadership and education. Saint Greg¬
ory of Nyssa's The Life of Saint Macrina from the fourth century
attests to the importance of music in an early convent that
Macrina, Gregory's sister, headed in Asia Minor. Macrina was
the eldest of nine children of a family that also included Saint
Basil, and Gregory credits Macrina with having great influence
over her brothers' education and choice of a religious vocation.
In Gregory's account he visits Macrina on his return from a
synod of bishops in Antioch. He has had a radiant vision in
his sleep, which he does not fully understand, and as he ap¬
proaches the convent he is informed of Macrina's illness. A
monastic community of men lived nearby the convent, as was
typical.

As I made my way (rumor had announced my presence before¬

hand to the community), a line of men streamed toward us. It
was customary for them to welcome guests by coming out to
meet them. However, a group of women from the convent waited
modestly at the entrance of the church for us.
When the prayer and blessing were finished and the women
had responded to the blessing by bowing their heads, they re¬
moved themselves from our presence and went off to their own

Saint Gregory of Nyssa, The Life of Saint Macrina, trans. Virginia Woods Callahan,
Fathers of the Church, vol. 58 (Washington, DC.: Catholic University of America
Press, 1967), pp. 174-75, 182-83, 186-87. Reprinted by permission of the pub¬
lisher.
MIDDLE AGES 7

quarters. Since not one of them remained with me, I correctly

surmised that their Superior was not among them. An attendant
led me to the house where the Superior was and opened the
door, and I entered that sacred place. She was already very ill,
but she was not resting on a couch or bed, but upon the ground;
there was a board covered with a coarse cloth, and another board
supported her head, designed to be used instead of a pillow, sup¬
porting the sinews of her neck slantwise and conveniently sup¬
porting the neck. When she saw me standing at the door, she
raised herself on her elbow, her strength was already so wasted
by fever that she was not able to come towards me, but she fixed
her hands on the floor and, stretching as far forward as she could,
she paid me the honor of a bow. I ran to her and, lifting her
bowed head, I put her back in her accustomed reclining position.
But she stretched out her hand to God and said: 'You have granted
me this favor, O God, and have not deprived me of my desire,
since you have impelled your servant to visit your handmaid.'
And in order not to disturb me, she tried to cover up her groans
and to conceal somehow the difficulty she had in breathing, and
through it all, she adjusted herself to the brighter side. She initi¬
ated suitable topics of conversation and gave me an opportunity
to speak by asking me questions. As we spoke, we recalled the
memory of the great Basil and my soul was afflicted and my
face fell and tears poured from my eyes. But she was so far from
being downcast by our sorrow that she made the mentioning of
the saint a starting point towards the higher philosophy. She re¬
hearsed such arguments, explaining the human situation through
natural principles and disclosing the divine plan hidden in misfor¬
tune, and she spoke of certain aspects of the future life as if
she was inspired by the Holy Spirit, so that my soul almost seemed
to be lifted up out of its human sphere by what she said and,
under the direction of her discourse, take its stand in the heavenly
sanctuaries.

Soon after, Macrina died:

My soul was disquieted for two reasons, because of what I

saw and because I heard the weeping of the virgins. Until now,
8 WOMEN IN MUSIC

they had controlled themselves and kept in check the grief in

their souls and they had choked down the impulse to cry out
for fear of her, as if they were afraid of the reproach of her voice
already silent; lest, contrary to her order, a sound should break
forth from them and their teacher be troubled by it. But when
their suffering could no longer be controlled in silence (their
grief was affecting their souls like a consuming fire within them),
suddenly, a bitter, unrestrained cry broke forth, so that my reason
no longer maintained itself, but, like a mountain stream overflow¬
ing, it was overwhelmed below the surface by my suffering and,
disregarding the tasks at hand, I gave myself over wholly to lamen¬
tation. The cause of the maidens' grief seemed to me to be just
and reasonable. They were not bewailing the deprivation of some
ordinary bond or carnal attraction or any other such thing for
which one mourns. But, as if they were torn away from their
hope in God or the salvation of their souls, they cried out and
loudly bewailed as follows:
The lamp of our life has been extinguished; the light that
directed the path of our souls has been taken away,- the safety
of our lives has been destroyed, the seal of our incorruptibility
has been removed; the bond of our union has been demolished;
the support of the feeble has been shattered, the care of the weak
taken away. With you even our night was illuminated like day
by the pure life, but now even the day is turned into darkness.'
The ones who called her mother and nurse were more seriously
distraught than the rest. These were those she had nursed and
reared after finding them prostrate along the highway at the mo¬
ment of starvation and she led them to the pure and uncorrupted
life.
But when I recalled my soul from the depths, gazing intently
at the holy head, and, as if I were rebuked for the disorderly
conduct of the women, I said: 'Look at her,' shouting at the maid¬
ens in a loud voice, 'and be mindful of the instructions she gave
you for order and graciousness in everything. Her divine soul
sanctioned one moment of tears for us, commanding us to weep
at the moment of prayer. This command we can obey by changing
the wailing of our lamentation into a united singing of psalms.'
MIDDLE AGES 9

I said this with a loud voice to drown out the noise of the wailing.
Then, I bade them withdraw a little to their quarters nearby and
to leave behind a few of those whose services she accepted during
her lifetime.

Gregory describes the preparation of the body and the funeral

procession:

When our work was finished and the body was adorned with
what we had, the deaconess spoke again and said that it was
not fitting that Macrina should be seen by the maidens dressed
as a bride. She said: T have a dark mantle of your mother's which
I think we should put over her, so that this holy beauty should
not be made splendid by the extraneous adornment of the robe.'
Her opinion prevailed and the mantle was put over her. But even
in the dark, the body glowed, the divine power adding such grace
to her body that, as in the vision of my dream, rays seemed to
be shining forth from her loveliness.
While we were engaged in these activities and the maidens'
psalm-singing, mingled with lamentation, resounded through the
place, in some way the report spread about on all sides and all
the people of the area began to rush in so that the vestibule
was not large enough to hold them. There was an all night vigil
with hymn-singing as is the custom in the case of the praise of
martyrs, and, when it was finished and day dawned, a crowd of
those who had hurried in from the entire countryside, men and
women both, broke in on the psalmody with their cries of grief.
Although my soul was distressed by my misfortune, I kept think¬
ing, nevertheless, how it should be possible not to leave undone
anything suitable for such an occasion. Separating the flow of
people according to sex, I put the women with the choir of nuns
and the men in the ranks of the monks. I arranged for the singing
to come rhythmically and harmoniously from the group, blended
well as in choral singing with the common responses of all. But
as the day was advancing and the place was overcrowded by the
multitude of people, the bishop of the region, whose name was
Araxius (he was present with the full company of his priests),
10 WOMEN IN MUSIC

ordered the bier to be brought forward immediately, on the

grounds that there was quite a distance to be covered and the
crowd would prevent the swift movement of the funeral proces¬
sion. At the same time, he ordered all the priests who were with
him to escort the bier themselves.
When this was decided upon and the activity begun, I went
to one side of the bier and called him to the other, and two of
the others, distinguished in rank, took their position at the oppo¬
site end. I led the way slowly, as was fitting, and we proceeded
at a moderate rate. The people crowded around the bier and could
not get enough of that holy sight, so it was not easy for us to
pass. There was a row of deacons and attendants on each side
of the funeral train, all holding wax candles, it was a kind of
mystical procession, the psalmody continuing from beginning to
end harmoniously, as is sung in the hymnody of the three boys.1
It was a distance of seven or eight stadia from the monastery to
the House of the Holy Martyrs, where the bodies of our parents
were at rest. We completed the journey with difficulty throughout
most of the day, for the accompanying crowd and those who
were always being added to our number did not allow us to proceed
according to our estimate. When we were inside the gate of the
House, we first put down the bier and turned to prayer, but the
prayer was the starting point of lamentation for the people. When
there was a lull in the psalm-singing and the maidens were looking
at the holy face, as the tomb of our parents was being opened
in which she was to be placed, one of them cried out saying
that no longer would we look upon her divine face. The rest of
the maidens joined her in her outburst and confusion drowned
out the orderly and sacred singing. Everyone wept in response
to the wailing of the maidens. We nodded for silence and the
leader guided them to prayer by intoning the usual prayers of
the Church and the people came to attention.

1. Daniel 3:51.
3 LIFE AT A TWELFTH-CENTURY
BENEDICTINE CONVENT

With the development of the Benedictine and other rules

that formally divided the day between labor and divine service,
liturgical singing became the primary community activity in
most convents. Nuns, like monks, were trained in singing by
their elders, and they met to sing eight times a day to observe
the Office Hours at three-hour intervals, and in addition for
Mass. Some nuns also wrote music for their choirs—both chant
and polyphony—which became incorporated in the largely anon¬
ymous repertory of the Middle Ages. This contemporary descrip¬
tion of life in a twelfth-century nunnery was written by Wilbert
of Gembloux about the convent of Abbess Hildegard in Ruperts-
berg, near Bingen, on the Rhine River in Germany, where Wilbert
spent three years as Hildegard's secretary. The life and work
of Hildegard of Bingen are considered in Reading 4.

It is so wonderful to observe here the contest in striving for

virtue, with what affection the mother loves her daughters and
with what respect the daughters submit to the mother! It is impos¬
sible to say whether the mother or the daughters excel. For these
holy handmaids of God are so eager to serve God, to guard them¬
selves, to honor and obey one another that one can easily see
in them how with the help of Christ the weaker sex has conquered
over self, the world and the devil.
On feast days the nuns sit quietly in the cloister and practice
reading or singing. On work days they are busy in the workshops,

Stephanus Hilpisch, The History of Benedictine Nuns, trans. M. Joanne Moggli

(Collegeville, Minn.: St. John's Abbey Press, 1958), pp. 44-45.
Nunnery Officials and Procession, from a manuscript dated ca. 1300.
Top row, at right: Priests preside at the altar, behind them the sacristan
pulls the bell rope; next, the abbess with her staff and the cellaress
with her keys. Bottom row: Nuns in procession.
MIDDLE AGES 13

in copying books, in weaving, clothing, or doing other manual

work.
The convent is rich in religious zeal and also in income. It has
no tall buildings, but all the rooms are large, beautiful, and mo¬
nastic. All the workshops have running water and are well
equipped. The convent supports fifty nuns, also many guests,
who are never lacking, and a number of servants. The mother is
kind to all, gives good advice to everyone who asks for it, resolves
the most difficult problems presented to her, writes books, in¬
structs her sisters, leads sinners back to the right path and is al¬
ways fully occupied.
4 HILDEGARD OF BINGEN:
ABBESS AND COMPOSER

Abbess Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179) is the lone

woman composer of sacred music from the Middle Ages
for whom a significant body of plainchant remains extant.
She is further unique in that she was active also as a mystic,
a writer of visionary and scientific works, an adviser to heads
of state, and a teacher. Between 1151 and 1158 Hildegard col¬
lected seventy-seven of her chants—or songs, to use Hildegard's
terminology—into a cycle as Symphonia armonie celestium
revelationum (Symphony of the Harmony of the Heavenly Rela¬
tions) and gave them that name because, like the visions she ex¬
perienced, “they are revealed to me and give musical forms to
divine mysteries. “* l This repertory was intended mainly for
use within her own convent, whose members all had trained
voices.
Hildegard wrote both the texts and the music for her liturgical
songs, and likewise for her morality play Ordo virtutum (Play
of the Virtues). A large number of the songs are addressed to
two women: thirteen to Saint Ursula and fifteen to the Virgin
Mary, of which the text of Song 71, below, is an especially
fine example. It has no designation as to liturgical function.
Songs 38 and 39 extol women religious as a group. An antiphon
is sung before and after a psalm, while a responsory is a musical
postlude to a lesson.

Barbara L. Grant, "Five Liturgical Songs by Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179),"

Signs 5/3 (spring 1980), pp. 566-67. © 1980 by the University of Chicago.
Reprinted by permission of the University of Chicago Press.
1. Barbara L. Grant, "An Interview with the Sybil of the Rhine: Hildegard
von Bingen (1098-1179)," Heresies 3/2 (summer 1980): 7.
MIDDLE AGES 15

ai expcneru
dmn ea die
mi net. iHi r
nmmnmiii

diCeaCic edt
dtuni atidt
mi eafaCn

0
i m ohot
'ex non (c
nem$ feun
nimhbmu
twmmimi
decdottnd

Hildegard of Bingen, from a twelfth-century manuscript of her Scivias.

Hildegard, receiving a vision, prepares to record her revelations on a
wax tablet with a stylus, while a monk waits to make a parchment copy.
16 WOMEN IN MUSIC

SONG 71
ABOUT THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY

Greetings, greenest branch

Who came forth on a spirit-filled
Quest for knowledge of all that is holy.

Since this is the time

When you have flourished in your branches,
Let there be greetings to you,
Greetings
Because the moist, vital heat of the sun has sweated into you
Like the pungent odor of balsam.

For in you has blossomed the beautiful flower

Which has given fragrance to all the spices
Which were dry.
And they have appeared all in full greenness.

Because of you the heavens gifted the meadow with dew

And every land has been made abundant,
Since your womb has brought forth wheat
And since the birds of heaven have made their nests in you.

At last is there food made for humanity

And great joy for the banqueters.

Therefore in you, sweet Virgin,

Every joy is in abundance
Also these Eve disparaged.
Now let there be praise to the Most High!

SONGS 38 AND 39
ANTIPHON AND RESPONSORY ABOUT THE VIRGINS
Antiphon

You beautiful faces

Beholding God and building in the dawn
How noble you are.
MIDDLE AGES 17

In whom the King reflected himself

When he showed forth in you all the heavenly jewels;
And as you are also redolent with the odor of all those jewels
You are also the sweetest garden.

Responsory
You most glorious greenness,
You take root in the sun,
And in clear day-brightness
You shine forth in a wheel
Which no earthly excellence comprehends,-
You are encircled
By the embraces of the divine mysteries.

Hildegard's most passionate beliefs about music are elaborated

in a letter written to the prelates of Mainz circa 1178, when
she was nearly eighty years old. Because of her refusal to exhume
the body of a youth who had been excommunicated and was
buried in the convent's cemetery, the prelates of Mainz—acting
in behalf of the absent archbishop—imposed an interdict on
Hildegard's community, banning the celebration of the Office
Hours. Hildegard may have known that the youth had long
since been given absolution, but in any event she keenly felt
her authority and judgment had been violated, as her reply to
the interdict makes clear.
In this reply Hildegard builds a reasoned theological argument
that all sacred music, instrumental as well as vocal, functioned
as a bridge for humanity to life, before the Fall. The key to
the argument is the ",spiraculo" of Genesis 2, the breath of
life that God breathed into the body of the first human being.
The same breath is used to sing and play in praise of God. In
the course of establishing the biblical foundation for her argu¬
ment, Hildegard sets forth her own brief history of liturgical
music.

Jacques Paul Migne, ed., S. Hildegardis, abbatissae: Opera omnia, vol. 197 of
Patrologiae curcus completus . . . Series prima [Latin] (Paris: Petit-Montrouge,
1855), "Epistola XLVII," cols. 219-21. This selection was chosen and translated
by Barbara L. Grant and is introduced by her.
18 WOMEN IN MUSIC

In order not to live as disobedients separated from the whole,

we have left off singing the chants of the Divine Offices exactly
according to the interdict, and we have abstained from participa¬
tion in the Body of our Lord, whereas we celebrated it together
every single month according to our general custom. So that above
all for this reason, while I as well as all of my sisters was struck
down with such great bitterness, held back by such monstrous
harshness, and suppressed at length by such tremendous weight
of authority, I heard these words in a vision. . . . And I heard
the voice which comes from the living light bringing forth the
different forms of praise, about which David sang in the psalms:
"Praise Him in the sound of the trumpet; praise Him in the psalter-
ium and cithra" etc., to which was added: "Let every spirit praise
the Lord" (Psalm 150). In these words we are instructed about
the interior life through exterior things: namely, just how to give
form to the Offices serving the interior of human beings and
direct them as much as possible towards the praises of the Creator,
whether according to the setting of the texts or the nature of
the instruments. . . .
The holy prophets, mindful of that divine sweetness and praise
through which Adam rejoiced in God before the Fall, but not
in his exile, wanted also to be aroused to these things themselves.
So these prophets, taught by the very spirit they had received,
composed not only psalms and canticles which were sung in order
to kindle the devotion of the listeners, but also they created vari¬
ous instruments for the art of music. In this way they were able
to bring forth a whole variety of sounds as much from the structure
and properties of each instrument, as well as from the sense of
the words. . . .
Clearly in imitation of the holy prophets, the studious and
wise, through this same art, invented several kinds of instruments
so that what they wanted to sing they could sing to the delight
of their souls, by joining their hands while bending with the
modulations of their voices. In this way can they also recall
Adam (formed by the hand of God which is the Holy Spirit), in
whose voice was the tone of every melody and the sweetness
of the totality of musical arts before he transgressed and would
MIDDLE AGES 19

have remained, were he still in the state in which he was

created. . . .
Moreover, when that deceiver, the Devil, heard that man began
to sing through the inspiration of God, and that in this way he
was summoned to practice again the sweetness of the chants of
the heavenly fatherland . . . then even in the heart of the Church
and wherever he [i.e., the Devil] was able, whether through dis¬
sension and scandal or unjust oppression, he continually disrupted
the manifestation and beauty of the psalms and hymns. . . .
It is necessary that you pay attention to this2 so that you are
drawn to this same devotion to the justice of God without the
desire for punishment and revenge that comes from indignation
or an unjust feeling of the heart, and it is always necessary to
beware that in your judgments you are not possessed by Satan,
who took man away from the heavenly music and from the de¬
lights of paradise. Therefore consider carefully that just as the
body of Christ was born of the Holy Spirit from the integrity
of the Virgin Mary, just so is the song of praise according to
the heavenly mu§ic radiated by the Holy Spirit in the Church.
The body is truly the garment of the soul, which has a living
voice; for that reason it is fitting that the body simultaneously
with the soul repeatedly sing praises to God through the voice.
In accordance with this meaning the prophetic spirit orders
that God be praised with cymbals of jubilation and with the rest
of the musical instruments which the wise and studious have
created, since all of the arts (whose purpose is to fill uses and
needs of man) are brought to life by that breath of life which
God breathed into the body of man: and therefore it is just that
God be praised in all things. . . . The prophecy in the psalm
. . . exhorts us to confess ourselves to God in the cithara as we
sing psalms with the ten-string harp; desiring to restore ourselves,
let sound the cithara whose purpose on earth is to train the body,-
let sound the psalterium which gives back the sound from the
heavenly realm above for expanding the spirit; let sound the ten-

2. “This” refers to the role of the Devil in obstructing the making of music,
just as the prelates of Mainz were obstructing music performance at Hildegard's
convent.
20 WOMEN IN MUSIC

string harp for contemplation of the law. Therefore, those of the

Church who have imposed silence on the singing of the chants
for the praise of God without well-considered weight of reason
so that they have unjustly stripped God of the grace and comeli¬
ness of His own praise, unless they will have freed themselves
from their errors here on earth, will be without the company
of the angelic songs of praise in heaven.
5 THREE WOMEN TROUBADOURS

In the secular realm the work of more than twenty women

troubadours has survived from southern France from the twelfth
and early thirteenth centuries, and since the Provencal language
includes a designation for the female troubadour as trobaritz,
in contrast to the male trobador, undoubtedly numerous other
women were active. Special circumstances permitted these
women to flourish, chiefly their noble birth and their ability
to inherit land under a legal system that was more favorable
to women than those elsewhere in Europe. Also, during the
Crusades of this period many aristocratic women governed fief-
doms during their husbands' absence, and while this situation
prevailed throughout Europe, it was especially in effect in Pro¬
vence and adjoining regions.* 1 Together, then, these factors en¬
hanced the position of women in the south of France and encour¬
aged some women to find their voices as troubadours.
Troubadour poetry takes its vocabulary from the economic
and political system of vassalage in the Middle Ages. Just as
the vassal paid homage to his powerful lord by swearing loyalty,
so the troubadour in his poems pays homage to his lady Simi¬
larly, the female troubadours address their men, but their poems
tend to break away from the ritualized aesthetic of courtly love
that is characteristic of the male troubadours, substituting in¬
stead a remarkable candidness, immediacy, and charm 2
Very little is known about the three women who are repre¬
sented here, each with a single poem. The Countess of Dia (b.

Meg Bogin, The Women Troubadours (New York: Paddington Press, 1976), pp.
85, 87, 95, 97, 119, 121. Translations courtesy of the author. © 1976 Paddington
Press Ltd.
1. Bogin, pp. 29-36.
2. Ibid., pp. 63-69.
22 WOMEN IN MUSIC

ca. 1140), probably from Die, and Castelloza (b. circa 1200),
of the Auvergne region, were aristocrats, while Azlais de Porcair-
ages (b. ca. 1140), from a town near Beziers, appears to have
moved in courtly circles. The music for all the poems by the
women troubadours is lost, with the exception of the Countess
of Dia's striking "A chantar."

Countess of Dia:
"A chantar m'er de so qu'ieu non volria"

Of things I'd rather keep in silence I must sing:

so bitter do I feel toward him
whom I love more than anything.
With him my mercy and fine manners are in vain,
my beauty, virtue and intelligence.
For I've been tricked and cheated
as if I were completely loathsome.

There's one thing, though, that brings me recompense:

I've never wronged you under any circumstance,
and I love you more than Seguin loved Valensa.3
At least in love I have my victory,
since I surpass the worthiest of men.
With me you always act so cold,
but with everyone else you're so charming.

1 have good reason to lament

when I feel your heart turn adamant
toward me, friend: it's not right another love
take you away from me, no matter what she says.
Remember how it was with us in the beginning
of our love! May God not bring to pass
that I should be the one to bring it to an end.

The great renown that in your heart resides

and your great worth disquiet me,

3. Hero and heroine, respectively, of a lost romance.

MIDDLE AGES 23

The Countess of Dia.

-- — wum'amwm^nm w

fttui
'pm*0^c1# felrfe -litrkf *
Wj> $ cctcffk *\bw -fife tnotUd tengmletn fc
% pomcur* fex^Ufcomna dforuwi enmwi&t&
^<3 tausttign*
jUl 'bourn am%* /w igr**
ik/
E, *.’ felltfftwie# m&pttA.

i . v..£ MH|
"* " I-- tǤati*g|wml4m

U»4iit& nmmMm %

Castelloza.
24 WOMEN IN MUSIC

for there's no woman near or far

who wouldn't fall for you if love were on her mind.
But you, my friend, should have the acumen
to tell which one stands out above the rest.
And don't forget the stanzas we exchanged.

My worth and noble birth should have some weight,

my beauty and especially my noble thoughts;
so I send you, there on your estate,
this song as messenger and delegate.
I want to know, my handsome noble friend,
why I deserve so savage and so cruel a fate.
I can't tell whether it's pride or malice you intend.

But above all, messenger, make him comprehend

that too much pride has undone many men.

Azalais de Porcairages: "Ar em al freg

temps vengut"

Now we are come to the cold time

when the ice and the snow and the mud
and the birds' beaks are mute
(for not one inclines to sing);
and the hedge-branches are dry—
no leaf nor bud sprouts up,
nor cries the nightingale
whose song awakens me in May.4

My heart is so disordered
that I'm rude to everyone;
I know it's easier to lose
than gain; still, though I be blamed
I'll tell the truth.
my pain comes from Orange.5
4. This line recalls the May songs of the popular tradition.
5. Perhaps a reference to Raimbaut d'Orange, a great troubadour.
MIDDLE AGES 25

That's why I stand gaping,

for I've lost the joy of solace.

A lady's love is badly placed

who argues with a wealthy man,
one above the rank of vassal:
she who does it is a fool.
For the people of Velay6
say love and money do not mix,
and the woman money chooses
they say has lost her honor.

I have a friend of great repute

who towers above all other men,
and his heart toward me is not un¬
true, for he offers me his love.
And I tell you I reciprocate,
and whoever says I don't,
God curse his luck—
as for myself, I know I'm safe.

Handsome friend, I'd gladly stay

forever in your service—
such noble mien and such fine looks—
so long as you don't ask too much;
we'll soon come to the test,
for I'll put myself in your hands:
you swore me your fidelity,
now don't ask me to transgress.

To God I commend Bel Esgar

and the city of Orange,
and Gloriet' and the Caslar,
and the lord of all Provence,
and all those there who wish me well,

6. Corresponds to the southern part of the Auvergne region.

26 WOMEN IN MUSIC

and the arch where the attacks are shown.7 8

I've lost the man who owns my life,
and I shall never be consoled.

Joglar* you of merry heart,

carry my song down to Narbonne,
with its tornada made for her9
whose guides are youth and joy.

Castelloza: "Amies, s'ie.us trobes avinen"

Friend, if you had shown consideration,

meekness, candor and humanity,
I'd have loved you without hesitation;
but you were mean and sly and villainous.
Still, 1 make this song to spread your praises
wide, for I can't bare to let your name
go on unsung and unrenowned,
no matter how much worse you treat me now.

I won't consider you a decent man

nor love you fully nor with trust
until I see if it would help me more
to make my heart turn mean or treacherous.
But I don't want to give you an excuse
for saying I was ever devious with you,-
something you could keep in store
in case I never did you wrong.

It greatly pleases me
when people say that it's unseemly

7. The Roman arch of Orange was one of the outstanding monuments of medi¬
eval Provence. The other references in the stanza are to now unknown landmarks,
presumably also in the area of Orange.
8. The joglar (jongleur in northern French) was the court performer who
sang and accompanied the troubadour's composition by embellishment.
9. Probably the Viscountess Ermengarda of Narbonne, a major political and
cultural figure over a period of fifty years. Tornada refers to the closing of the
piece.
MIDDLE AGES 27

for a lady to approach a man she likes

and hold him deep in conversation,-
but whoever says that isn't very bright,
and I want to prove before you let me die
that courting brings me great relief
when I court the man who's brought me grief.

Whoever blames my love for you's

a fool, for it greatly pleases me,
and whoever says that doesn't know me;
I don't see you now at all the way I did
the time you said I shouldn't worry,
since at any moment I might
rediscover reason to rejoice:
from words alone my heart is full of joy.

All other love's worth naught,

and every joy is meaningless to me
but yours, which gladdens and restores me,
in which there's not a trace of pain or of distress;
and I think I'll be glad always and rejoice
always in you, friend, for I can't convert,
nor have I any joy, nor do I find relief,
but what little solace comes to me in sleep.

I don't know why you're always on my mind,

for I've searched and searched from good to evil
your hard heart, and yet my own's unswerving.
I don't send you this; no, I tell you myself:
if you don't want me to enjoy
the slightest happiness, then I shall die,-
and if you let me die, you'll be a guilty man,
I'll be in my grave, and you'll be cruelly blamed.
6 WOMEN AMONG THE MINSTRELS AND
AS AMATEUR MUSICIANS

Specialized terms in languages, literary sources, and ico¬

nography all attest to the activity of women as professional
musicians among the minstrels and in amateur music making
during the High and Late Middle Ages, fust as Provencal makes
the distinction between the trobador and trobaritz, Old English
differentiates between the male musician as gligmann and the
female as gliewmeden. Similarly, the famous incorporation of
minstrels in Paris in 1321 states that the agreement is between
the city officials and the menstreus and menestrelles, the jon¬
gleurs and jongleresses.
That women played an important part in informal music mak¬
ing is implied by the French literary romances of the twelfth
through the fourteenth centuries, which are rich with descrip¬
tions of medieval courtly life.1 La clef d'amors prescribes singing
as a "noble and beautiful thing, especially for a young woman,"
who should "sing with a melodious, simple, pleasant, and gra¬
cious voice."1 2 Typically the amateur females in the romances
are singers, but they also play stringed instruments such as the
psaltery, fiddle, lyre, and harp. Fresne, in Galeran de Bretagne,
for instance, plays the harp and knows "lais and songs . . .
all the Saracen tunes, Gascon and French songs, songs from
Lorraine [and] Breton lais. "3 The heroine of Chretien de Troy-

1. Yvonne Roxseth, "Les femmes musiciennes du XII° au XIV° siecle," Romania 61

(1935): 464-80; Maria V. Coldwell, “Jougleresses and Trobaritz: Secular Musicians in
Medieval France," in Women Making Music: The Western Art Tradition, 1150-1950,
ed. Jane Bowers and Judith Tick (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1986), pp. 41-43.
2. La clef d’amors, ed. Auguste Doutrepont, Bibliotheca Normannica V (Halle: Max
Niemeyer, 1890), lines 2589-90, 2601-62.
3. Jean Renart, Galeran de Bretagne, ed. Lucien Foulet (Paris: Edouard Champion,
1925), pp. 1168-71.
MIDDLE AGES 29

es's Philomena is skilled in playing the psaltry, lyre, and rebec

{fiddle), and in making verses.4 Finally, the romances abound
in references to groups of young women singing and dancing.
The five illustrations of women making music that appear
on the following pages constitute this "reading."

Women in a Procession Singing and Playing Handbells and Small

Drums, from a late-fourteenth-century manuscript.

4. Chretien de Troyes, Philomena: Conte raconte d'apris Ovide, ed. C. de

Boer (Paris: Paul Geuthner, 1909), lines 197-200.
30 WOMEN IN MUSIC

A fongleresse with Handbells, from a late-tenth-century manuscript

MIDDLE AGES
5 3 3
JLA J *
* \
^ ^
^ \ S 5
>
<s 7
.*^v\ ’ 31

Sappho with a Harp, from a manuscript of Boccaccio's De clans

mulieribus (Concerning Famous Women), ca. 1470. The Greek
poet appears dressed as a woman of the fifteenth century.
32 WOMEN IN MUSIC

The Lady at the Positive Organ, from The Woman with the Unicorn
tapestries, late fifteenth century.
MIDDLE AGES 33

Music Making at the Court of Duke Rene II of Lorraine; detail of women

playing the dulcimer, shawm, and portative organ.
RENAISSANCE
7 THE RENAISSANCE LADY

A highly influential image of the Renaissance lady was

set forth by Baldesar Castiglione in The Book of the Courtier,
a handbook for gentlemen and women about the social and cul¬
tural functions of the Renaissance court. First published in 1528
in Venice, the work became widely read throughout Europe.
In describing the attributes of the lady, Castiglione creates a
paradox. The lady has the same virtues of mind as the courtier
and the same education in letters, music, painting, dancing,
and so on. "Culture," to quote Joan Kelly-Gadol on The Cour¬
tier, "is an accomplishment for noblemen and women alike,
used to charm others as much as to develop the self. But for
the woman charm becomes the primary occupation and aim. "* 1
While the courtier's chief task is the profession of arms, and
he hunts and engages in many sports, the lady is assigned a
decorative role, entertaining men with her gracious conversa¬
tion, charm, and modesty.
In the cultivation of music there is a similar disparity between
the amateur courtier and the amateur lady. Music ranks high
on the list of Castiglione's attainments, and a courtier should
be able to read music and to play several instruments. A lady,
however, should sing or choose her instrument in accordance
with the ideal of feminine gracefulness. Giuliano de' Medici
speaks about the lady, and Lodovico Pia about the courtier in
the following excerpts.

Baldesar Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, trans. George Bull (New York:
Penguin Books, 1967), pp. 212, 94, 215. Copyright © 1967 by George Bull.
Reprinted by permission of Penguin Books Ltd.
1. Joan Kelly-Gadol, “Did Women Have a Renaissance?," in Becoming Visible:
Women in European History, ed. Renate Bridenthal and Claudia Koonz (Boston:
Houghton Mifflin, 1977), p. 150.
38 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Regarding the chief attribute of the lady:

Leaving aside, therefore, those virtues of the mind which she

must have in common with the courtier, such as prudence, mag¬
nanimity, continence and many others besides, and also the quali¬
ties that are common to all kinds of women, such as goodness
and discretion, the ability to take good care, if she is married,
of her husband's belongings and house and children, and the
virtues of being a good mother, I say that the lady who is at
Court should properly have, before all else, a certain pleasing
affability whereby she will know how to entertain graciously every
kind of man with charming and honest conversation, suited to
the time and the place and the rank of the person with whom
she is talking. And her serene and modest behavior, and the cand¬
our that ought to inform all her actions, should be accompanied
by a quick and vivacious spirit by which she shows her freedom
from boorishness,- but with such a virtuous manner that she makes
herself thought no less chaste, prudent, and benign than she is
pleasing, witty, and discreet.

About music and the courtier:

Gentlemen, I must tell you that I am not satisfied with our

courtier unless he is also a musician and unless as well as under¬
standing and being able to read music he can play several instru¬
ments. For, when we think of it, during our leisure time we can
find nothing more worthy or commendable to help our bodies
relax and our spirits recuperate, especially at Court where, besides
the way in which music helps everyone to forget his troubles,
many things are done to please the ladies, whose tender and gentle
souls are very susceptible to harmony and sweetness. So it is
no wonder that both in ancient times and today they have always
been extremely fond of musicians and have welcomed music as
true refreshment for the spirit.
RENAISSANCE 39

About feminine gracefulness, music, and the lady:

Since I may fashion this lady my own way, I do not want

her to indulge in these robust and manly exertions [e.g., handling
weapons, riding, hunting, and nearly all sports] and moreover,
even those that are suited to a woman I should like her to practise
very circumspectly and with the gentle delicacy we have said is
appropriate to her. For example, when she is dancing I should
not wish to see her use movements that are too forceful and
energetic, nor, when she is singing or playing a musical instru¬
ment, to use those abrupt and frequent diminuendos that are
ingenious but not beautiful. And I suggest that she should choose
instruments suited to her purpose. Imagine what an ungainly
sight it would be to have a woman playing drums, fifes, trumpets,
or other instruments of that sort; and this is simply because their
stridency buries and destroys the sweet gentleness which embel¬
lishes everything a woman does. So when she is about to dance
or make music of any kind, she should first have to be coaxed
a little, and should begin with a certain shyness, suggesting the
dignified modesty that brazen women cannot understand. She
should always dress herself correctly, and wear clothes that do
not make her seem vain and frivolous. But since women are per¬
mitted to pay more attention to beauty than men, as indeed they
should, and since there are various kinds of beauty, this lady of
ours ought to be able to judge what kind of garments enhance
her grace and are most appropriate for whatever she intends to
undertake, and then make her choice.
40 WOMEN IN MUSIC

April: The Group of Lovers, from the Schifanoia Months at Ferrara,

Francesco del Cosa, 1470. Some of the women hold lutes and recorders.
RENAISSANCE 41

Three Young Women Performing Claudin de Sermissy's Chanson

"Jouyssance vous donneray," Master of the Three-Quarter Figures, ca.
1530. The two instrumentalists play a wooden flute and the lute, while
the third performer appears poised to sing.
42 WOMEN IN MUSIC

te
C052inu man bfe ®arfjrif fagm wifi/ SpeUn/ fdr dn ®o« ©ft (jatfrd ©Mm t>6crauj)
QPP@e<fi bit @kfg &a8«(Kfi@piiy ‘Snb fr&Kibcn bodjbabetbic3(tcn ©fpanntuber dn S^<rf$nedffl»&<tt$:
<S?€Ct^s'3«t>altH)r bcr@iStibflutfanb ©asfmblcCMacn geben bab ®a3n^rumat eon/r ewfpdttgm:
©cf; ficf> barnacf) aud? rnferwano SHd’dirte/ftlrdn f^rolbsfwb/ ©rum (ibt man pr eor allot bin^- * i®

Woman Playing a Viol, Tobias Stimmer, 1570s(?).

8 VOCAL AND INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC
PERFORMANCE AT AN ITALIAN CONVENT

Late in the sixteenth century a number of Italian convents

were distinguished for their fine musical establishments, among
them the convent of San Vito in Ferrara. The large influx into
these orders of young women from wealthy families—some of
whom had already trained in music—was partially responsible
for an increase in activity. This influx in turn occasioned a
considerable growth in the performance of polyphonic music
and sparked the work of certain women as composers.* 1 In his
1594 treatise on instrumental performance practice, Hercole Bot-
trigari provides an account of the nuns' ensemble at San Vito,
which is the subject of this reading. Although the ensemble
included singers, it was considered especially remarkable be¬
cause of its instrumentalists.
Bottrigari reports twenty-three members in the San Vito en¬
semble, including cornetti and trombone players. In 1600 Gio¬
vanni Maria Artusi listed the entire composition of the group
as cornetti, trombones, violins, viole bastarde (lyra-viols), dou¬
ble harps, lutes, cornamuses (bagpipes), recorders, harpsichords,
and voices.2 Soon afterward, however, because of restrictions
that were placed on Italian convents in the wake of the Counter

Hercole Bottrigari, II Desiderio or Concerning the Playing Together of Various Musical

Instruments, trans. Carol McClintock (Rome: American Institute of Musicology,
1962), pp. 56-60. Reprinted by permission of Hanssler-Verlag.
1. Jane Bowers, "The Emergence of Women Composers in Italy, 1566-1700," in
Women Making Music: The Western Art Tradition, 1150-1950, ed. Jane Bowers and
Judith Tick (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1986), p. 126.
2. Ibid.
44 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Reformation, the ensemble at San Vito and others like it

declined.3
Bottrigari's treatise is cast in the form of a dialogue between
Alemanno Benelli, an anagram of the name of Bottrigari's friend
Annibale Melone, who instigated the work, and Gratioso Desid-
erio. The maestra's wand described by Benelli is an early instance
of the baton, which only became traditional with conductors
in the nineteenth century.

Al. Now to that humble lay congregation which we have just

mentioned,4 it pleases me to add a most noble and high
example of the musical concerts into which all sorts and
divers kinds of instruments enter in the highest degree of
perfection which human and earthly imperfection can
achieve. . . .
Gr. And whatever concert can this be? It must certainly be of
a marvelous excellence,- and if it isn't the Philharmonic5 I
would never be able to guess.
Al. Indeed, it must be of a stupendous, if not marvelous excel¬
lence, as I can affirm, do affirm and confirm that it truly
is, because I have had the good fortune not only to have
been able to hear it but also to see it being assembled and
effectively concerted together, both the first of the many
occasions I was shown such a particular favor and on at least
one other occasion. It appeared to me that the persons who
ordinarily participated in this concert were not human, bodily
creatures, but were truly angelic spirits. Nor must you imag¬
ine that I refer to the beauty of face and richness of garments
and clothing, for you would err greatly, since one sees only
the most modest grace and pleasing dress and humble deport¬
ment in them.

3. Ibid. Stricter claustration and curbs on the cultivation of polyphonic music

were put into effect.
4. The Rivaruoli of Bologna, a group that gathered every evening for song.
5. The Accademia Filarmonica of Verona, a private organization of men espe¬
cially devoted to madrigal singing.
RENAISSANCE 45

Gr. You are making me so dizzy with your ambiguous speech,

my mind responds to your will; however I should like to
see if I could imagine which Concert that might be. But I
can't come to any conclusion because if I think of the Philhar¬
monic I feel that they do not fit your words very well for
you have used the feminine gender,- I cannot apply them
to the three most noble ladies of the Duchess Serenissima
of Ferrara for her private music,6 since there is no great diver¬
sity of instruments, nor great number of them employed
in their concerto,- they almost always use their most sweet
and sonorous voices in singing:—I don't know what to decide.
Al. As you can assure yourself, since I have never heard nor
seen the concerts of the Philharmonic Academy, even though
I believe because of the great fame of their worth that they
might correspond to their academic name, which signifies
lovers of harmony, I could not speak of them in any such
way, and you may be certain that this concert is not theirs.
Also, I would have had to use words of the masculine gender
which, however, even though proffered under the feminine
gender nonetheless relate to another, and have in themselves
masculine force. Likewise you may be certain that 1 do not
speak of the concert of those three Ladies, rather those three
true and living images of the Graces—even though I can
testify as to them, because I have been conceded more than
once (thanks to the great kindness and generosity of their
Serene Highnesses) the grace of both seeing and hearing
them. Such concerts are not of that kind, as indeed you
have said, in which a great variety of instruments are assem¬
bled and about which you have asked me to speak.
Gr. What then may this Concert be?
Al. Don't weary yourself any more, Sig. Gratioso; and if you
so distress yourself only because you wish to guess what
concert this might be, how you would melt away when you
see them convene and play together with so much beauty
and grace, and such quietness! You would certainly think

6. See Reading 9.
46 WOMEN IN MUSIC

you were either dreaming or seeing one of those imagined

incantations of the Sorceress Alcina,- or perhaps one of those
German dolls which by means of tempered steel springs move
along the table playing instruments which have been made
by their ingenious fabricators.
Gr. Good Lord, what kind of women are these?
Al. —And then finally when you hear the most sweet harmony
which resounds in those angelic voices, and those instru¬
ments played with such judgment and discretion—
Gr. These are women, indeed?
Al. They are indubitably women; and when you watch them
come in (for I will say "come" rather than "go," since I
seem to be present there now) to the place where a long
table has been prepared, at one end of which is found a
large clavicembalo,7 you would see them enter one by one,
quietly bringing their instruments, either stringed or wind.
They all enter quietly and approach the table without making
the least noise and place themselves in their proper place,
and some sit, who must do so in order to use their instru¬
ments, and others remain standing. Finally the Maestra of
the concert sits down at one end of the table and with a
long, slender and well-polished wand (which was placed there
ready for her, because I saw it), and when all the other sisters
clearly are ready, gives them without noise several signs to
begin, and then continues by beating the measure of the
time which they must obey in singing and playing. And at
this point I am certain you would say, as also in such a
moment I say, what the great Mantuan poet says repeatedly
in his great poem:

Pandite nunc Elicona Deae Cantusque Movete. [Now, God¬

desses of Song, fling Helicona wide.]8

And you would certainly hear such harmony that it would

seem to you either that you were carried off to Helicona
or that Helicona together with all the chorus of the Muses
7. Harpsichord.
8. Vergil's Aeneid, books VII and X. Helicon is a mountain in Greece.
RENAISSANCE 47

singing and playing had been transported to that place.

Gr. You told me not to distress myself, and yet you give me
the greatest cause. I suffer to know at once where this Heli-
cona may be, and who are these Muses; tell me now, if you
don't want me to endure more agonies.
Al. Weil then! Ferrara will be Parnassus,- Helicona, the holy
Church of San Vito; and the sacred Muses the reverend Nuns.
Gr. Then the Nuns of S. Vito in Ferrara make such concerts?
Al. That is the unvarnished truth. And if you had paid attention
to the words I said in the beginning of my report, you would
have known these women could only have been nuns. And
if you should ever speak about this with [Giaches de] Wert,
[Bartolomeo] Spontone, the Reverend Father [Costanzo]
Porta, or [Claudio] Merulo of Correggio—musicians properly
reputed to be the principal ones of our modern music—and
several others who were in Ferrara in the same time I was
there, I am most certain that they would tell you the same
thing and perhaps even vouch for it more fully.
Gr. It seems strange that I have never before heard of this. But
it is perhaps something new, and a work of [Hippolito] Fior-
ino and Luzzasco [Luzzaschi],9 since they know how to do
it considering their great concerto.
Al. What do you mean, a new thing? It is not at all new. If I
were to speak of tens and twenties of years I would not be
mistaken. Because of this, in great part, can one understand
how the great perfection of their concordance comes about.
Neither Fiorino nor Luzzasco, though both are held in great
honor by them, nor any other musician or living man, has
had any part either in their work or in advising them; and
so it is all the more marvelous, even stupendous, to everyone
who delights in music.
Gr. That's all right as to the general effect of their concerto.
But what about the particulars of their learning to sing,
and even more, to play instruments, particularly those of
wind, which it is almost impossible to learn without maestri.

9. See Reading 9.
48 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Being women they cannot easily manipulate Cornetti and

Trombones, which are the most difficult of musical instru¬
ments.
Al. Those instruments are nearly always used doubled in the
music which they play ordinarily on all the Feast days of
the year. And they play them with such grace, and with
such a nice manner, and such sonorous and just intonation
of the notes that even people who are esteemed most excel¬
lent in the profession confess that it is incredible to anyone
who does not actually see and hear it. And their passagework
is not of the kind that is chopped up, furious, and continuous,
such that it spoils and distorts the principal air, which the
skillful composer worked ingeniously to give to the can¬
tilena;10 but at times and in certain places there are such
light, vivacious embellishments that they enhance the music
and give it the greatest spirit.
Gr. 1 am stupefied; I am truly amazed. But, after all, who in¬
structed them in the beginning? It must be necessary if one
wishes to maintain, if not to increase the bright splendor
of musical concerts, that there be someone who looks after
it, and is intelligent and expert enough to instruct, so that
it may be done so carefully and dextrously.
Al. That same nun who is the director of the concerto is also
Maestra of all the beginners both in singing and in playing;
and with such decorum and gravity of bearing has she always
proceeded and continued in this office that her equals, as
they are, are glad to acknowledge her and esteem her for
their superior, loving and obeying her, fearing and honoring
her completely.
Gr. She must have a rare and noble intellect to direct and instruct
in the profession of music those other honest and learned
persons, especially if they are numerous.
Al. If I remember rightly, there are twenty-three of them now
participating in this great concerto, which they perform only
at certain times—for most solemn feasts of the Church, or

10. Lyrical melody.

RENAISSANCE 49

to honor the Princes, their Serene Highnesses, or to gratify

some famous professor or noble amateur of music at the inter¬
cession of Fiorino or Luzzasco, or by the authority of their
superiors; but never extemporaneously nor in haste, nor do
they play all compositions, but only, as I said about the
great concert of the Duke, those works judged to be prepared.
9 THE RISE OF WOMEN AS VIRTUOSO
SINGERS

In the preceding reading, Bottrigari mentions the "three

most noble ladies" who performed for the Duchess of Ferrara's
"private music. " His reference is, in fact, to the famous concerto
delle donne, which in the 1580s created a vogue for the high
voice and established women as professional singers in the secu¬
lar realm, under the patronage of Duke Alfonso II d'Este and
Duchess Margherita Gonzaga at Ferrara. Although there were
female amateurs who sang and played among the ladies-in-wait-
ing at the Ferrara court prior to 1580, in the following decade
the group made up of Laura Peverara, Anna Guarini, and Livia
d'Arco evolved into a specialized and professional ensemble.
They were joined by Tarquinia Molza in 1583. Under the direc¬
tion of Luzzasco Luzzaschi, this concerto delle donne sang at
private gatherings for the duke and duchess and their guests,
often performing a secret repertory that was the property of
the duke alone for some years.
The Ferrara concerto attracted wide interest, and soon imita¬
tions of the group sprung up at the courts of Mantua, Florence,
Rome, and elsewhere. Collectively, the activity of these virtuoso
singers had ramifications for the style of the late-sixteenth-cen-
tury madrigal, with its scoring for two or three difficult parts
in the treble clef, and in the seventeenth century for the new
genre of opera, with its roles for trained women singers.* 1 Con-

Anthony Newcomb, The Madrigal at Ferrara, 1579-1597, 2 vols. Princeton Studies in

Music no. 7 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1979), 1:24-26.
1. Anthony Newcomb, “Courtesans, Muses, or Musicians? Professional Women
Musicians in Sixteenth-Century Italy/' in Women Making Music: The Western Art Tra¬
dition, 1150-1950, ed. Jane Bowers and Judith Tick (Urbana: University of Illinois
Press, 1986), p. 93.
RENAISSANCE 51

temporary accounts attest to both the excellence of the Ferrara

concerto and the delight Duke Alfonso took in these singers.

Ambassador Orazio Urbani to the Florentine court:

26 June 1581
Cardinal Madruccio was entertained on the day of his arrival
with the usual music of the ladies, which takes place every day
without fail. The Duke is so inclined to and absorbed in this
thing that he appears to have placed there not only all his delight
but also the sum total of his attention. One can give no greater
pleasure to the Duke than by appreciating and praising his ladies,
who are constantly studying new inventions.

Cavalier Grana to Cardinal Luigi d'Este:

August 1581
His Highness was kind enough to seem glad to see me, and
after dinner in the rooms of the Duchess [of Ferrara] he had
those two ladies sing. At the end they sang a very beautiful new
piece, and at that time His Highness was kind enough to call
me to listen to it closely, for in truth besides being very beautiful
it was decorated with such lovely and diver si passaggi2 that one
could not [hope to] hear better.

Alessandro Lombardini to Luigi d'Este about the visit of the

Due de Joyeusse:

23 July 1583
In the morning the Duke went to find his Highness [the Due
de Joyeuse] at his rooms, and they remained there together for
a while. They heard Mass in the small chapel and then went to
eat, with music as usual by trombones, cornets, and other instru¬
ments. After dining they retired [to their chambers] with great
ceremony as usual, the one wanting to accompany the other,
2. Literally various passages, or sections of music containing brilliant displays
of virtuosity.
52 WOMEN IN MUSIC

and they stayed there until about 3:00 P.M. Then the Duke took
him [the Due de Joyeuse] to the rooms of the Duchesses, who
were together, and, after a few ceremonies and without sitting
down, they went into the first room where Luzzaschi was with
the harpsichord. La Turcha (Peverara), La Guarina, and the other
one, d'Arca, came in as well, and all three sang very nicely, alone,
in duets, in trios altogether,- they sang Echo dialogues, and many
other beautiful and delicious madrigals. His Highness had put
in the hands of His Excellency a book with all the things that
the ladies were singing, whence they were greatly praised by that
Prince and by the other gentlemen.

Finally, composer Alessandro Striggio's highly favorable re¬

port on the Ferrara concerto to his patron, Francesco de ’ Medici,
at Florence.

July 29, 1584

Then for two hours the Duke favored me by having me hear
his conserto di donne [sic], which is truly exceptional. These
ladies sing excellently both with instruments and from part books,
[and] they are sure in contrapuntal improvisation.* * 3 The Duke
continually favored me by showing me in writing all of the works
which they improvise upon, with all the runs and passages that
they do. I hope that within eight-ten days Your Highness will
permit me to return to Mantua, where I've left my wife and
children, and there I will be able to compose more easily, in
imitation of these songs of Ferrara, some for Your Highness's con¬
certo.

Joanne M. Riley, "The Influence of Women on Secular Vocal Music in Sixteenth

Century Italy" (Master's thesis, Wesleyan University, 1980), pp. 87-88.
3. The term contrapuntal improvisation as used here means the ornamentation
of individual vocal lines in a polyphonic piece, such as a madrigal.
BAROQUE
9
10 FRANCESCA CACCINI: SINGER-COMPOSER

Francesca Caccini's career is a leading example of how

work as a professional singer led to composition in opera and
other vocal genres for women in the Baroque era. As a daughter
of the eminent singer-composer Giulio Caccini, Francesca
(1587-1640?) enjoyed a tremendous head start in musical train¬
ing at her father's school, as well as in growing up at the Medici
court at an exciting time, when monody* 1 and opera were new
developments. Caccini made her debut as a singer in 1600 at
barely thirteen years of age in the premiere of the first opera,
Euridice, by Jacopo Peri, with some numbers by her father. In
1607 she officially entered the service of the Florentine court.
As a composer Caccini was active by the age of eighteen,
and she wrote continuously thereafter: secular songs for her
court appearances, sacred songs for Lenten concerts, and operas
and other dramatic entertainments, for which she joined with
other musicians at the court. Caccini's Primo libro of 1618 repre¬
sents the most extensive collection of early monodic music by
a single composer up to that time. Fler only other major extant
work, from what appears to have been a sizable output, is the
opera La liberazione di Ruggiero dall'isola d'Alcina (The Libera¬
tion of Ruggiero from the Island of Alcina).
Caccini frequently collaborated with Michelangelo Buonarroti
the Younger,2 of whom she thought highly, as the two letters
here indicate. In the first she discusses their work on parts of
a festa, a dramatic form similar to opera but less elaborate in
production. This festa—which included an invenzione, or short
comic scene—has not been identified.

Maria Giovanna Masera, "Alcune lettere inedite di Francesca Caccini," Rassegna

Musicale 5/3 (April 1940): 176-77, 179-80.
1. Accompanied solo song.
2. Grandnephew of the painter and sculptor.
56 WOMEN IN MUSIC

My Most Illustrious and Most Honorable Signore

Your Lordship's hasty departure grieved me as much for the
need we have of you as for the reason for which you left. Yet
the news Your Lordship sends me makes me hope that your
nephew will soon be out of danger, may it so please Our Lord.
I am doubly obliged to Your Lordship on account of the verses
you sent me for Signora Giralda, for I can imagine the trouble
with which you must have composed them, having cause to think
of other things than poetry. They arrived most opportunely be¬
cause, although we have rehearsed my music in the presence of
Her Majesty, Madame, and the princesses, the Grand Duke has
not yet heard it. However, we daily expect to be commanded,
especially as one night we were assembled and ready until three
o'clock in the morning, but because of the arrival of an ambassa¬
dor, our performance was postponed to another night. This was
fortunate because Madame asked why Signora Giralda did not
yet sing alone, to which I answered that Your Lordship had not
had the time to write your verses because a nephew of yours
was in danger of death. I promise Your Lordship that Madame
showed such sorrow that she could not have shown more.
Everyone's delight in the invenzione when it was said to be
yours and in my prologue and envoi, and, in short, in the music
as a whole, I can neither write nor express. Suffice it that I assure
you it has been some time since I saw Her Majesty and Madame
laugh so heartily. The entire room resounded with loud laughter,
and Madame in particular spoke so well of Your Lordship that
in truth you could not desire more. I reserve all the particulars
to word of mouth, I will only tell you that in a cheerful voice
Madame said to Her Majesty and to the entire audience that
Your Lordship has no equal and that Your Lordship is able to
compose in all styles and to suit yourself to all occasions, either
serious or gay, easy or difficult. In short, she showed how de¬
lighted she was. As for the ladies, they carried themselves well
and did themselves great honor.3
I do not want to neglect to inform Your Lordship of another
particular I had forgotten, that is, that Madame liked the wit of

3. The group of female singers Caccini directed.

BAROQUE 57

Lady Playing the Virginals, Wenceslaus Holler, 1635. The virginal, a

small portable instrument of the harpsichord family, was once a popular
home instrument.
58 WOMEN IN MUSIC

The Sense of Hearing, Abraham Bosse, 1636. In this family concert,

the five members are perhaps singing a madrigal, while two of the singers
play supporting instrumental parts on the lute and the viola da gamba.
BAROQUE 59

Woman with a Lute, Joannes Vermeer, ca. 1664.

60 WOMEN IN MUSIC

the greedy doctors above all, and she repeated it two or three
times. Now that Signora Giralda is singing, the festa will be per¬
fect, and it will be ready, it so happens, before the Signor Grand
Duke hears it.
I regret that Your Lordship does not think you can be here,
but I do not want to fail to advise you to give some thought, if
you can, to that little comedy for eleven actors, for we will be
precisely that many. Let it be pleasing in its story, humorous,
and with varied characters. Although we have not yet fully made
up our minds, I have so much in hand that I want to warn you
now in order that you not be taken by surprise, but can think
about the plot in the meanwhile so that, at need, you will only
have to write it out. I pray you, do not speak of this.
Forgive me if I have bothered you too much. May it please
God that you return soon with the return of joy and health to
your nephew. In closing, I send you my respects. My husband
remembers you always, while I pray God for all truly good things
for you.

From Florence 18 December 1614

Your Most Illustrious Lordship's
Always most ready to serve you.
Francesca Caccini Signorini
I have not made use of those verses Your Lordship sent me for
Signora Medicca because Your Lordship's other verses "Non passar
tra quelle prode ("Do not pass through those shores") seemed
more appropriate to me. I set them to the tune of "Addio selvaggi
monti" ("Farwell wild mountains"), and they fit very well.

In 1617 Caccini made a tour to various Italian cities, giving

concerts together with her husband Giovannibattista Signorini,
who was also a singer. She wrote to Buonarroti about their suc¬
cess from Genoa:

My Illustrious Signore
I have not forgotten the debt of a letter that I owe Your Lordship,
but I have been prevented by infinite tasks that would not let
BAROQUE 61

me be unless sometimes I fled from them. I give you news that

we are well, by the grace of God. The favors and courtesies that
we have enjoyed everywhere we have passed and that were ac¬
corded to us in this city are most extensive and more believable
when seen than when explained, so that I will tell Your Lordship
part of them by word of mouth, and I will let you see many
effects.
Suffice it that I would rather lose my life before the desire to
study and the affection I have always had for virtue, because
this is worth more than all treasure and all grandeur.
I gave your letter to Signore Chiabrera who has answered it.
He is living in the same house of Signore Cardinal Francesco
Brignole where we are lodged, truly a house that could be called
the sea of all goodness, all amity, and courtesy. Whenever Signore
Gabriello drinks, he with great pleasure often drinks toasts to
you, and I return them on Your Lordship's behalf; thus we often
commemorate you together. By chance in our rooms we have
found among many other portraits of famous men the portrait
of Michelangelo Buonarroti which has given and often gave us
reason for discussing Your Lordship's merits,- and Signore Gabriello
has felt great pleasure that in Florence there is a descendant of
such a great man who carries the imprint of his virtues and his
very name, as does Your Lordship.
So, as you hear, we are passing the time virtuously and merrily,
discussing and working. At Lucca, Festa della Dame, which gave
the greatest pleasure, lives in the memory of all. There I sang
many canzonettas of Your Lordship's, but I have not attempted
this here because the idioms of our language are not understood
here as at Lucca.
May Your Lordship hold us in your good grace and give us
news of yourself. Next week, having received the three letters
from Florence, we will quickly depart for Savona and from there
towards Milan for Florence. Meanwhile, with my husband kissing
your hands, I pray Our Lord for your every good.

From Genoa 26 May 1617.

Francesca Caccini Signorini
11 ELISABETH-CLAUDE JACQUET
DE LA GUERRE: COMPOSER AND
HARPSICHORDIST

Elisabeth-Claude Jacquet de la Guerre (1664/651-1727)

was the first major female composer of instrumental music. A
harpsichordist from her earliest years, La Guerre made important
contributions to the developing chamber music tradition in
France, and she also wrote an opera and other theatrical works,
cantatas, and much solo music for her own instrument. La Guer¬
re's father was a harpsichord maker, and beginning in her child¬
hood she enjoyed the patronage of King Louis XIV.

In the first of three source documents for La Guerre below,

a commentator for the Paris monthly Mecure galant describes
her youthful prowess as of 1677. La Guerre was probably thirteen
years old—not ten, as indicated.

For four years a wonder has appeared here. She sings at sight
the most difficult music. She accompanies herself, and accompa¬
nies others who wish to sing, at the harpsichord, which she plays
in a manner which cannot be imitated. She composes pieces, and
plays them in all the keys asked of her. I have told you that
for four years she has been appearing with these extraordinary
qualities, and she still is only ten years old.

In 1691 La Guerre wrote a ballet, Les jeux a 1'honneur de la

victoire, the music of which has been lost. The libretto, however,
is extant and bears the following dedication to the king. At

Edith Borroff, An Introduction to Elisabeth-Claude Jacquet de la Guerre. Musicological

Studies 12 (Brooklyn, N.Y.: Institute of Mediaeval Music, 1966), pp. 6, 12-13, 17-19.
Reprinted by permission of the author.
BAROQUE 63

this time French ballet combined dramatic action and singing

with dance.

When this play was presented to me, I was at once extremely

eager to undertake it. Everything having Your Majesty's glory
as its end is marvelously exciting; and when the desire to please
you is joined to it, what further aim could one have? It is by
such a just incentive that I have always been prompted to work.
From the most tender age (this memory will be eternally precious
to me), presented to your illustrious court, where I have had
the honor to be for several years, I learned, Sire, to consecrate
to you all of my waking hours. You deigned at that time to accept
the first fruits of my gifts, and it has pleased you to receive several
further productions. But these particular marks of my zeal did
not suffice for me, and I welcome the happy opportunity to be
able to make a public (offering). That is what led me to write
this ballet for the theatre. It is not just today (but earlier) that
women have written excellent pieces of poetry, which have had
great success. But until now, none has tried to set a whole opera
to music; and I take this advantage from my enterprise: that the
more extraordinary it is, the more it is worthy of you, Sire, and
the more it justified the liberty that I take in offering you this
work.

An important tribute to La Guerre is the biographical entry

awarded her after her death by Titon du Tillet in his Parnasse
frangais of 1732, a monumental record of the achievements of
French poets and musicians. The reference in Tillet's third para¬
graph regarding La Guerre’s playing is probably to the public
concerts she gave in her home, beginning shortly after her hus¬
band's death in 1704 and continuing until her retirement in
1717. These concerts were among the earliest of their kind in
Europe.

Elisabeth-Claude Jacquet de la Guerre. Musician, born in Paris,

died in the same city June 27, 1729, at the age of about 70 years,
buried at Saint Eustache.
Mademoiselle Jacquet from her tenderest youth made known
her talents and her extraordinary disposition for music and for
64 WOMEN IN MUSIC

the art of playing the harpsichord. She was hardly fifteen years
old when she appeared at the Court. The King took much pleasure
in hearing her play the harpsichord, which caused Madame de
Montespan to keep her three or four years with her to amuse
herself agreeably, as well as persons of the Court who visited
her, in which the young lady succeeded very well.
The marriage that she made with Marin de la Guerre, organist
of the church of Saint Severin, obliged her to follow him and
return to Paris. The merit and the reputation of Mme. de la Guerre
could only grow in that great City, and all the great Musicians
and fine Connoisseurs went eagerly to hear her play the harpsi¬
chord: she had above all a talent for improvising and for playing
fantasies extemporaneously, and sometimes for an entire half hour
she followed an improvisation and a fantasy with songs and har¬
monies extremely varied and in excellent taste, which charmed
the Listeners.
Madame de la Guerre had a very great genius for composition,
and excelled in vocal Music the same as in instrumental; as she
made known by several works in all kinds of music that one
has of her composition; to wit: an opera entitled Cephale & Pro-
cris, a Tragedy in five Acts with a Prologue, produced in 1694
and printed in folio. II. Three books of Cantatas, of which a
number are with instruments, volumes in folio, by [Christophe]
Ballard: the words of the Cantatas of these first two Books are
on subjects drawn from Holy Scripture, of which I believe [An¬
toine Houdar de] La Motte author of the greatest part. III. A
collection of Pieces for the Harpsichord) a Collection of Sonatas,
a Te Deum for full Choruses, which she had performed in 1721,
in the Chapel of the Louvre, for the Convalescence of His Majesty
(Louis XV). Her last works have not yet been printed, and are
in the hands of her heirs.
One can say that never had a person of her sex had such talents
as she for the composition of music, and for the admirable manner
in which she performed it at the Harpsichord and on the Organ.
She had had an only son, who at eight years of age surprised
those who heard him play the Harpsichord, whether in perfor¬
mance of pieces, or in accompaniment; but death carried him
off in his tenth year.
12 THE VENETIAN CONSERVATORIES

In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, music con¬

servatories flourished in Venice within the four ospedali for
females known as I Mendicanti, La Pieta, L'Incurabili, and Gli
Derelitti. These hospitals, or orphanages, intended to teach desti¬
tute Venetian girls a trade, and over time their music schools
achieved such excellence so as to attract paying pupils from
all over Europe. Girls at the conservatories had the unique oppor¬
tunity for training in voice and many instruments, together with
extensive performing experience, including playing in orches¬
tras.
Initially these female musicians drew audiences to their cha¬
pels for services, and they also played for private occasions at
noble homes. With the eighteenth century, however, they gave
full concerts, often as state occasions in honor of distinguished
visitors. The subsequent careers of only a few of the most notable
students have been traced to date, namely Maddalena Lombar-
dini-Sirmen and Regina Strinasacchi, violinists who trained in
the mid-eighteenth century. Many leading men, such as Antonio
Vivaldi, Johann Hasse, and Giovanni Pergolesi, were maestri
di capella at the conservatories, and their work in composition
surely benefited from having the schools' performing resources
at their disposal.
There was no standard length of residence at the conservato¬
ries, and some women remained for many years. This latter cir¬
cumstance coupled with the fact that the women lived a re¬
stricted life, requiring permission to come and go,1 probably
accounts for Charles de Brosses's comment that the women at

1. Jane Bowers, "The Emergence of Women Composers in Italy, 1566-1700," in

Women Making Music: The Western Art Tradition, 1150-1950, ed. Jane Bowers and
Judith Tick (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1986), pp. 158-59.
66 WOMEN IN MUSIC

La Piet a lived "cloistered like nuns." De Brosses was a French

government official who sojourned in Italy in 1739-40. A second
contemporary account is by Charles Burney, the noted English
music historian and chronicler of eighteenth-century musical
life, who visited Venice during his first continental tour in 1771.
Later in the century the conservatories declined, as part of the
general decline of the Venetian Republic.

Charles de Brosses:

The ospedali have the best music here. There are four, of them,
all for illegitimate or orphaned girls or those whose parents cannot
support them. These are brought up at the State's expense and
trained exclusively in music. Indeed they sing like angels, play
the violin, flute, organ, oboe, cello, bassoon—in short, no instru¬
ment is large enough to frighten them. They are cloistered like
nuns. The performances are entirely their own, and each concert
is composed of about forty young women. I swear that nothing
is more charming than to see a young and pretty nun, dressed
in white, a sprig of pomegranate blossom behind one ear, leading
the orchestra and beating time with all the grace and precision
imaginable. . . .
Of the four orphanages I go most to the Ospedali della Pieta.
It ranks first for the perfection of its symphonies. What well-
drilled execution! That is the only place to hear a first attack
from the strings such as, quite undeservedly, the Paris Opera is
renowned for.

Frid. Aug. 10 [1771]

Dr. Charles Burney:

I had this morning a long visit from Signor [Gaetan] Latilla,

and procured from him several necessary particulars relative to

Charles de Brosses, Lettres familidres ecrites d'ltalie d quelques amis en 1739

et 1740 (Paris: Poulet-Malassis et De Broise, 1858), pp. 140-41.
Charles Burney, An Eighteenth-Century Musical Tour in France and Italy, vol.
1 of Dr. Burney's Musical Tours in Europe, ed. Percy A. Scholes, 2 vols. pp.
121, 136-37. Copyright © 1959 by Oxford University Press. Reprinted by
permission of the publisher.
BAROQUE 67

fBBmi

Gala Concert in the Casino Filharmonico, Francesco Guardi, eighteenth

century. An orchestra made up of women musicians from the four Vene¬
tian conservatories is depicted at a concert for a visiting dignitary.
68 WOMEN IN MUSIC

the present, as well as the past state of music here. He says the
conservatories have been established at Venice about 200 years,
as hospitals. That at first the girls were only taught canto fermo
[plainsong] and psalmody (like our church girls),2 but in process
of time, they learned to sing in parts, and, at length joined instru¬
ments to the voices. He says that the expense on account of
the music is very inconsiderable, there being but five or six masters
to each of these schools for singing and the several instruments,
as the elder girls teach the younger,- the maestro di cappella,
only composes and directs,- sometimes, indeed, he writes down
closes to suit particular airs, and attends all the rehearsals and
public performances.

Frid. Aug. 17 [1771]

This evening, in order to make myself more fully acquainted
with the nature of the conservatories, and to finish my musical
enquiries here, I obtained permission to be admitted into the
music school of the Mendicanti (of which Signor Bartoni is mae¬
stro), and was favored with a concert, which was wholly performed
on my account, and lasted two hours, by the best vocal and instru¬
mental performers of this hospital: it was really curious to see,
as well as to hear every part of this excellent concert, performed
by female violins, hautbois, tenors, bases, harpsichord, French
horns, and even double bases. There was a prioress, a person in
years, who presided,- the first violin was very well played by Anto¬
nia Cubli, of Greek extraction; the harpsichord sometimes by
Francesca Rossi, maestra del coro, and sometimes by others,- these
young persons frequently exchange instruments.
The singing was really excellent in different styles,- Laura Rise-
gari and Giacoma Frari, had very powerful voices, capable of filling
a large theater, these sung bravura songs, and capital scenes se¬
lected from Italian operas; and Francesca Tomj, sister to the Abate
of that name, and Antonia Lucuvich, (this second a Sclavonian
[Slavic] girl) whose voices were more delicate, confined them-

2. In Burney's England the singing of metrical psalms in church (which was

usually the only singing in the service) was often led by the "charity children"
of the parish.
BAROQUE 69

selves chiefly to pathetic songs, of taste and expression. The whole

was judiciously mixed; no two airs of the same kind followed
each other, and there seemed to be great decorum and good disci¬
pline observed in every particular,- for these admirable performers,
who are of different ages, all behaved with great propriety, and
seemed to be well educated.
It was here that the two celebrated female performers, the Archi-
apate,3 now Signora [Maria] Guglielmi, and Signora Maddalena
Lombardini-Sirmen, who have received such great and just ap¬
plause in England, had their musical instructions.4 If I could have
stayed a few days longer at Venice, I might have been tempted
to continue there by such an offer from a friend who had interest
sufficient to procure me a sight of the interior discipline of these
admirable musical seminaries,- and I declined this obliging offer
with the greater reluctance, as there is not in all Italy any establish¬
ment of the same kind.

3. Word not included in dictionaries available to the editor. "Archi" suggests

head, or first.
4. Guglielmi was a singer, while Lombardini-Sirmen in addition to her work
as violinist, composed.
*
CLASSIC PERIOD
13 MUSIC AS AN ACCOMPLISHMENT

During the Classic period the number of women involved

in domestic music making increased significantly because of
the popularity of singing and playing the piano, and also because
the middle class was expanding. Music was considered a social
"accomplishment'' for women, which reflected on the gentility
of one's family, filled leisure time and drove away ennui, and
in the case of young women, ideally led to a good match. There
were other accomplishments too, among them drawing, paint¬
ing, fancy needlework, and embroidery, but music was the favor¬
ite, since "it could be shown off best while actually being
accomplished. "x The theory of accomplishments for women
lasted well into the nineteenth century. It did not require that
a woman should be talented in a particular pursuit. On the
other hand, and this point needs to be stressed, gifted and serious
amateur musicians were active too.
In her novels Jane Austen pokes considerable fun at music
as a feminine accomplishment. The first excerpt for this reading
begins as Elizabeth, the heroine of Pride and Prejudice (1813),
addresses Mr. D'Arcy. The instrument is a piano. Female ama¬
teurs at this time also typically played the harp and guitar.

"Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncom¬
monly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give
us a ball at Meryton?"
"With great energy—but it is a subject which always makes a
lady energetic."

Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice (New York: New American Library, 1961),
pp. 22-23.
1. Arthur Loesser, Men, Women, and Pianos: A Social History (New York:
Simon and Schuster, 1954), p. 268.
74 WOMEN IN MUSIC

"You are severe on us."

"It will be her turn soon to be teased," said Miss Lucas. "I
am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what fol¬
lows."
"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always
wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If
my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invalua¬
ble, but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those
who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers."
On Miss Lucas's persevering, however, she added, "Very well;
if it must be so, it must." And gravely glancing at Mr. Darcy,
"There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course
familiar with—'Keep your breath to cool your porridge'—and I
shall keep mine to swell my song."
Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital.
After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties
of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded
at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence
of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowl¬
edge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display.
Mary had neither genius nor taste,- and though vanity had given
her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and con¬
ceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excel¬
lence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had
been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing
half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad
to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs at the
request of her younger sisters, who with some of the Lucases
and two or three officers joined eagerly in dancing at one end
of the room.

In Emma {1816), Jane Fairfax, who must contemplate becom¬

ing a governess, is more "accomplished" in music than the hero¬
ine Emma. Both young women have played and sung at a party,
and the following morning Emma feels remorse.
Jane Austen, Emma (New York: New American Library, 1964), pp. 183-84, 218—
19.
CLASSIC PERIOD 75

The Song, Francesco Bartolozzi, after H. Bunbury, late eighteenth cen¬

tury. The accompanying instrument appears to be a long-necked form
of the mandolin.
76 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Lady with a Harp: Elizabeth Ridgely, Thomas Sully, 1818.

 CLASSIC PERIOD 77

The other circumstance of regret related also to Jane Fairfax,

and there she had no doubt. She did unfeignedly and unequivo¬
cally regret the inferiority of her own playing and singing. She
did most heartily grieve over the idleness of her childhood, and
sat down and practised vigorously an hour and a half.
She was then interrupted by Harriet's coming in; and if Harriet's
praise could have satisfied her, she might soon have been com¬
forted.
"Oh, if I could but play as well as you and Miss Fairfax!"
"Don't class us together, Harriet. My playing is no more like
hers than a lamp is like sunshine."
"Oh dear, I think you play the best of the two. I think you
play quite as well as she does. I am sure I had much rather hear
you. Everybody last night said how well you played."
"Those who knew anything about it must have felt the differ¬
ence. The truth is, Harriet, that my playing is just good enough
! to be praised, but Jane Fairfax's is much beyond it."
"Well, I always shall think that you play quite as well as she
does, or that if there is any difference, nobody would ever find
it out. Mr. Cole said how much taste you had! And Mr. Frank
Churchill talked a great deal about your taste, and that he valued
i taste much more than execution."
"Ah, but Jane Fairfax has them both, Harriet."
"Are you sure? I saw she had execution, but I did not know
! she had any taste. Nobody talked about it; and I hate Italian
i singing; there is no understanding a word of it. Besides, if she
i does play so very well, you know, it is no more than she is obliged
to do, because she will have to teach. The Coxes were wondering
last night whether she would get into any great family. How
did you think the Coxes looked?"

On another occasion Emma pays a call on Mrs. Elton, the

minister's new wife, who upon her marriage moved from Maple
Grove to Emma's village of Highbury. Mrs. Elton faces the
ubiquitous problem of "keeping up one's music after mar¬
riage. " Emma has just changed the subject of the conversation to
music.
78 WOMEN IN MUSIC

"I do not ask whether you are musical, Mrs. Elton. Upon these
occasions a lady's character generally precedes her, and Highbury
has long known that you are a superior performer."
"Oh no, indeed! I must protest against any such idea. A superior
performer! Very far from it, I assure you,- consider from how
partial a quarter your information came. I am dotingly fond of
music—passionately fond,- and my friends say I am not entirely
devoid of taste; but as to anything else, upon my honour, my
performance is mediocre to the last degree. You, Miss Woodhouse,
I well know, play delightfully. I assure you it has been the greatest
satisfaction, comfort, and delight to me to hear what a musical
society I am got into. I absolutely cannot do without music,- it
is a necessary of life to me,- and having always been used to a
very musical society, both at Maple Grove and in Bath, it would
have been a most serious sacrifice. I honestly said as much to
Mr. E. when he was speaking of my future home and expressing
his fears lest the retirement of it should be disagreeable,- and the
inferiority of the house too—knowing what I had been accus¬
tomed to—of course he was not wholly without apprehension.
When he was speaking of it in that way, I honestly said that
the world I could give up—parties, balls, plays—for I had no
fear of retirement. Blessed with so many resources within myself,
the world was not necessary to me. I could do very well without
it. To those who had no resources it was a different thing, but
my resources made me quite independent. And as to smaller-
sized rooms than I had been used to, I really could not give it
a thought. I hoped I was perfectly equal to any sacrifice of that
description. Certainly, I had been accustomed to every luxury
at Maple Grove,- but I did assure him that two carriages were
not necessary to my happiness, nor were spacious apartments.
'But,' said I, 'to be quite honest, I do not think I can live without
something of a musical society. I condition for nothing else,- but
without music, life would be a blank to me.' "
"We cannot suppose," said Emma, smiling, "that Mr. Elton
would hesitate to assure you of there being a very musical society
in Highbury; and 1 hope you will not find he has outstepped
CLASSIC PERIOD 79

the truth more than may be pardoned, in consideration of the

motive."
"No, indeed, I have no doubts at all on that head. I am delighted
to find myself in such a circle; I hope we shall have many sweet
little concerts together. I think, Miss Woodhouse, you and I must
establish a musical club and have regular weekly meetings at your
house or ours. Will not it be a good plan? If we exert ourselves,
I think we shall not be long in want of allies. Something of that
nature would be particularly desirable for me as an inducement
to keep me in practice,- for married women, you know—there is
a sad story against them, in general. They are but too apt to
give up music."
"But you, who are so extremely fond of it-—there can be no
danger, surely?"
"I should hope not; but really, when I look around among
my acquaintance, I tremble. Selina has entirely given up music;
never touches the instrument, though she played sweetly. And
the same may be said of Mrs. Jeffereys—Clara Partridge that was—
and of the two Milmans, now Mrs. Bird and Mrs. James Cooper,-
and of more than I can enumerate. Upon my word, it is enough
to put one in a fright. I used to be quite angry with Selina; but
really, I begin now to comprehend that a married woman has
many things to call her attention. I believe I was half an hour
this morning shut up with my housekeeper."
"But everything of that kind," said Emma, "will soon be in
so regular a train-"
"Well," said Mrs. Elton, laughing, "we shall see."
Emma, finding her so determined upon neglecting her music,
had nothing more to say; and after a moment's pause, Mrs. Elton
chose another subject.
14 MARIANNE VON MARTINEZ:
COMPOSER AND SINGER

In 1772 Charles Burney made a second musical tour from

England to the continent, where, in Vienna, he met composer
Marianne von Martinez (1744-1812) and heard her sing and
perform her own music at the keyboard. Martinez's parents were
longtime friends of the poet-librettist Pietro Metastasio in Vi¬
enna, and it was Metastasio who oversaw Martinez's education,
arranging for her to study keyboard with Haydn and singing
and counterpoint with Nicola Porpora.
Martinez wrote many large-scale works, among them a Mass
and Mass movements, oratorios, cantatas, a symphony, and two
piano concertos. Burney, however, heard only some of her
shorter compositions, which he describes in his travel journal,
excerpted here. After Metastasio’s death, in 1782, the Martinez
family was heir to his estate and thereby gave large and frequent
musicales. In the 1790s Marianne von Martinez founded and
directed a singing school in her home.

Sunday morning, [September] 6th [1772]

The discourse then became general and miscellaneous, till the
arrival of a young lady, who was received by the whole company
with great respect. She was well dressed, and had a very elegant
appearance: this was Signora Martinez,* 1 sister to Signor Martinez,
deputy librarian at the imperial library, whose father was an old

Charles Burney, An Eighteenth-Century Musical Tour in Central Europe and

the Netherlands, vol. 2 of Dr. Burney's Musical Tours in Europe, ed. Percy A.
Scholes, 2 vols. (London: Oxford University Press, 1959), pp. 106-7, 117. Copy¬
right © 1959 by Oxford University Press. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
1. Although Burney spelled the composer's last name as Martinetz, the modern
usage is Martinez, and the reading has been amended accordingly.
CLASSIC PERIOD 81

friend of Metastasio. She was born in the house in which he

now lives, and educated under his eye: her parents were Neapoli¬
tans, but the name is Spanish, as the family originally was.
After the high encomiums bestowed by the Abate Taruffi on
the talents of this young lady, I was very desirous of hearing
and conversing with her; and Metastasio was soon so obliging
as to propose her sitting down to the harpsichord, which she
immediately did, in a graceful manner, without the parade of
diffidence, or the trouble of importunity. Her performance indeed
surpassed all that I had been made to expect. She sung two airs
of her own composition, to words of Metastasio, which she accom¬
panied on the harpsichord, in a very judicious and masterly man¬
ner; and, in playing the ritornels,2 I could discover a very brilliant
finger.
The airs were very well written, in a modern style; but neither
common, nor unnaturally new. The words were well set, the
melody was simple, and great room was left for expression and
embellishment; but her voice and manner of singing, both de¬
lighted and astonished me! I can readily subscribe to what Metas¬
tasio says, that it is a style of singing which no longer subsists
elsewhere, as it requires too much pains and patience for modern
professors: e perduta la scuola,; non si trova questa maniera di
cantar; domanda troppa pena per i professori d'oggi di.
I should suppose that Pistocco [sic] Bernacchi,3 and the old
school of singing, in the time of cantatas, sustained, divided the
voice by minute intervals, and expressed words in this manner,
which is not to be described: common language cannot express
uncommon effects. To say that her voice was naturally well-toned
and sweet, that she had an excellent shake,4 a perfect intonation,
a facility of executing the most rapid and difficult passages, and
a touching expression, would be to say no more than I have
already said, and with truth, of others,- but here I want words

2. The instrumental conclusion to the songs.

3. Francesco Pistocchi (1659-1726) was the founder of the "Bolognese school"
of singing, a brilliant style requiring virtuosity typical of instrumental music of
the time. Antonio Bernacchi was a famous pupil of Pistocchi's.
4. A trill.
 WOMEN IN MUSIC
82

Mme. Favart, Francois Hubert Drouais, 1757. A portrait of the celebrated

French singer and actress Mme. Marie Justine Benoit Favart (1727-72).
CLASSIC PERIOD 83

that would still encrease the significance and energy of these

expressions. The Italian augmentatives would, perhaps, gratify
my wish, if I were writing in that language,- but as that is not
the case, let me only add, that in the portamento,5 and divisions
of tones and semitones into infinitely minute parts, and yet always
stopping upon the exact fundamental, Signora Martinez was more
perfect than any singer I had ever heard: her cadences too, of
this kind, were very learned, and truly pathetic and pleasing.
After these two songs, she played a very difficult lesson, of
her own composition, on the harpsichord, with great rapidity
and precision. She has composed a Miserere, in four parts, with
several psalms, in eight parts, and is a most excellent contrapun¬
tist.
The company broke up sooner than I wished, as it was Metastas-
io's time for going to mass. During this visit, I discovered that
Signora Martinez, among her other accomplishments, both reads
and speaks English. She invited me to come again, as did the
divine poet; so that I now regard myself as amico della casa.

Friday, [September] 11th [1772]

From hence I went to Metastasio, where I was immediately
admitted, though he was in dishabille, and just going to dress.
Mademoiselle Martinez was at her musical studies, and writing,-
she directly complied with my request, of sitting down to the
harpsichord. Metastasio desired her to shew me some of her best
studies,- and she produced a psalm for four voices, with instru¬
ments. It was a most agreeable Mescolanza, as Metastasio called
it, of antico e moderno,- a mixture of the harmony, and contri¬
vance of old times, with the melody and taste of the present. It
was an admirable composition, and she played and sung it in a
very masterly manner, contriving so well to fill up all the parts,
that though it was a full piece, nothing seemed wanting. The
words of this psalm were Italian, and of Metastasio's translation.
After this she obliged me with a Latin motet, for a single voice,
which was grave and solemn, without languor or heaviness; and

5. Gliding from one tone to the next through all the intermediate pitches.
84 WOMEN IN MUSIC

then played me a very pretty harpsichord sonata of her own,

which was spirited, and full of brilliant passages.
I could not finish this visit till I had petitioned Mademoiselle
Martinez to oblige me with copies of some of her compositions,
which she readily granted; and I had my choice of whatever had
pleased me most among the pieces which I had heard.
15 MARIA THERESIA VON PARADIS:
PIANIST ON TOUR

The expansion of concert life in the late eighteenth cen¬

tury made public concertizing and touring financially attractive,
and the activity of pianist Maria Theresia von Paradis (1759-
1834) illustrates how women were early contenders in the mar¬
ket, chiefly as pianists, singers, and violinists. Born in Vienna
and blinded by accident at the age of two, Paradis early attracted
the patronage of Empress Maria Theresa. She was also fortunate
in gaining a broad education, studying piano with the imperial
court composer Leopold Kozeluch, singing and dramatic compo¬
sition with Antonio Salieri, and also composition with Abbe
Vogler.
Besides concertizing in Vienna, Paradis made an extended tour
in 1784-86 to Paris, London, Berlin, Prague, and many other
cities in between. During her stay in Paris she gave fourteen
public performances. Eleven of these were in the Concert Spiri-
tuel series, and a representative review of one concert is trans¬
lated below. Presumably she performed works of her own compo¬
sition for piano, and she also wrote stage works, cantatas,
chamber music, and songs. In her later years Paradis—like Marti¬
nez before her—founded and headed a music school in Vienna,
with the express purpose of improving music education for
women.

Mademoiselle Paradis is the one artist whom our nation is not

able to praise too highly. This gifted keyboard player is truly
astonishing. Blind since the age of two, she has reached an unbe¬
lievable level of perfection in the knowledge of her instrument.

"Spectacles. Concert Spirituel," Mercure de France, Apr. 24, 1784, pp. 176-77.
86 WOMEN IN MUSIC

. . . The lack of one faculty [surely] affects the sensitivity of

the others. When one thinks of the necessity she has, to commit
to memory an infinite number of small details that a single glance
makes plain, one does not know whether to admire more the
perfection of her playing, or the patient efforts that were necessary
for her to achieve it. More faultless, more precise, more polished
playing is not known. The concertos [Paradis played], which are
by M. Hozeluck [sic], her teacher, seem well-made, in a pleasing
and original style.
16 CORONA SCHROTER AND JULIE
CANDEILLE: TWO COMPOSERS SPEAK OUT

This final reading from the Classic period presents state¬

ments by two composers regarding the public and their work,
the first by Corona Schroter (1751-1802), who occupied the
post of chamber musician at the Weimar court for the major
share of her career. Schroter's father, an oboe player, was her
first teacher, and subsequently she became one of Johann Adam
Hiller’s earliest students at the singing school he founded in
Leipzig to provide good instruction for both women and men.
Schroter came to composition through her work as a singer,
and she primarily wrote lieder, two collections of which she
published in 1786 and 1794. Her announcement of the 1786
collection in Carl Friedrich Cramer's Magazin der Musik reflects
a perception of negative attitudes by society toward women com¬
posers.

I have had to overcome much hesitation before I seriously made

the decision to publish a collection of short poems that I have
provided with melodies. A certain feeling towards propriety and
morality is stamped upon our sex, which does not allow us to
appear alone in public, and without an escort: Thus, how can I
otherwise present this, my musical work to the public, than with
timidity? For the complimentary opinions and the encouragement
of a few persons . . . can easily be biased out of pity. The work
of any lady, moreover, will indeed arouse similar pity to some
extent in the eyes of other experts. . . .

Marcia J. Citron, "Corona Schroter: Singer, Composer, Actress," Music and Letters
61/1 (January 1980): 21.
88 WOMEN IN MUSIC

In contrast to Schroter's timidity, the French singer and com¬

poser Julie Candeille (1767-1836) spoke out boldly in the Jour¬
nal de Paris in 1795 as she denounced the intriguers against
her latest stage work La bayadere (The Indian Dancing Girl),
in which she created the principal role. Earlier, when the success
of her Catherine, ou La belle fermiere (Catherine, or The Beautiful
Farmer's Wife) was substantial, with 154 performances, some
critics suggested that her father, who was also a composer, and
a particular writer with whom she had a liaison, had assisted
her. Hence Candeille's indignant and spirited defense in 1795
might reflect this earlier slighting as well. Candeille was also
active as a composer of instrumental music, a pianist and harpist,
and an actress.

When persecution pursues me, when injustice and calumny

seek my ruin, I must, for my supporters—and myself—repudiate
the treacherous insinuations of those who would still wish to
rob me of public esteem after having cheated all my efforts to
give pleasure.
Never did an insensitive pride, never did an arrogant preten¬
sion, guide me in the service of the arts. Submissiveness and
necessity led me to the theater,- propensity for and the love of
this work emboldened me to write. These two sources united
are my sole means of survival. The need to support my family,
other more onerous responsibilities, my present needs, and above
all the uncertainty of the future—these are my reasons for speak¬
ing out. I dare to believe that had they known, my detractors
themselves would not have been able to resolve to make me the
object of ridicule and aversion, while I become that of forebearance
and countenance.

Arthur Pougin, "Une charmeuse: Julie Candeille,” Le menestrel 49 (Nov. 4,

1883): 388-89.
1820-1920
4
? Women as Concert Artists
3 and in Opera

17 CLARA SCHUMANN: PIANIST

Throughout a career of more than fifty years, Clara Schu¬

mann (1819-96) was considered the foremost woman pianist
of her time and a peer of Sigismond Thalberg, Anton Rubinstein,
and Liszt. Her concert programs and her high musical standards
changed the character of the solo piano recital in the nineteenth
century. She introduced much new music by her husband Rob¬
ert, Chopin, and Brahms, and she was also distinguished as being
the first pianist to perform many of Beethoven's sonatas in pub¬
lic.
Born in Leipzig, Clara Schumann was carefully trained from
the age of five as a pianist and a musician by her father, Friedrick
Wieck. Her great progress she attributed to Wieck's program
of moderate work matched by physical exercise in the same
proportion, attendance of good operas and other performances,
and contact with distinguished musicians.* 1 She made her debut
at the Leipzig Gewandhaus at age nine in 1828, the same year
she met Robert Schumann, who was then eighteen. Between
1828 and 1838 Clara launched a highly promising career, and
her friendship with Robert deepened into love. Wieck, however,
refused to consent to their marriage, in part because he did not
want to share Clara with any man. Excerpts from Clara and
Robert's correspondence, below, begin in November 1837, when
Clara and her father were on tour to Vienna. Her debut in this
musical capital was a triumph.

Berthold Litzmann, Clara Schumann: An Artist's Life Based on Material Found

in Diaries and Letters, trans. Grace E. Hadow, 2 vols. (London: Macmillan, 1913),
1:119-21, 127-32,313-14,336-38; 2:148, 156-57, 237-38, 257-58, 260-61,376.
Reprinted by permission of Macmillan, London and Basingstoke.
1. Letter of Clara to La Mara, Oct. 10, 1882, in Litzmann, 2:365-66.
92 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Clara to Robert:

[Prague] Friday the 24th [1837]. Evening

To-morrow we set out for Vienna by the flying-coach. You
will get this letter on Monday, and now I give you a week in
which you can write much and clearly! Nanny has just been
saying that my eyes have been heavy ever since the evening when
I pored over your letter for 2 hours. See, of what you are guilty!
Do not forget, either, to write to me about your plans, for I am
much interested in them.
—I have been thinking a great deal about my circumstances
during these days, and I must call your attention to something.
You rely on the ring! Good heavens! that is but an external bond.
Had not Ernestine2 too, a ring from you, and what is of more
importance, your promise? And yet you have torn that bond asun¬
der. The ring is of no consequence. . . .
I too, have thought most seriously about the future. One thing
I must say to you; I cannot be yours until circumstances have
entirely altered. I do not want horses or diamonds, I am happy
in possessing you, but I wish to lead a life free from care, and I
see that I shall be unhappy if I cannot always work at my art,
and that I cannot do if we have to worry over our daily bread.
I require much, and I realise that much is needed for a comfortable
life. Therefore Robert, ask yourself if you are in a condition to
offer me a life free from care. Think that simply as I have been
brought up, I have yet never had a care, and am I to bury my
art now? . . .
. . . Yesterday, I played in the theatre for the last time, and
was (contrary to the regulations) recalled 4 times after each piece.
I played my concerto [in A minor, op. 7], and [Adolf] Henselt's
variations,- hardly anyone remembers ever having seen it so full
before. I do not, however, want to stay here, Vienna draws me
to herself. I am sad when I come into a strange town where I
am entirely unknown and many thoughts pass backwards and
forwards through my brain. Ah God! I feel as if my heart would

2. Robert was once engaged to Ernestine von Fricken.

1820-1920 93

burst. If ever I do not write to you within 4 weeks, do not be

angry with me, for it will be owing to want of time, and I can
only write in the evenings. I shall not have many evenings to
myself in Vienna—they will have to be given up to social duties.
I can write no more, as it is late. This is a very dull letter—you
must put up with it and take it for love, for it is written in
pure love
by Your Clara.

Robert to Clara:

Lfeipzig] Nov. 28th

First as to the most important part of your letter, where you
say that you can never be mine unless circumstances have com¬
pletely altered. Your father's spirit stood behind you and dictated
that; but you have written it, and you are right to think of your
external happiness. We must be quite clear about this. The only
thing that troubles me, is that you make the objection for the
first time now, which you should have made to me when I first
frankly explained my circumstances to you, as otherwise it would
certainly never have entered my head to write to your father, if
I had thought that you still had so many scruples.
What I wrote before, first to you and afterwards to your father,
about my wealth, was true then and still holds good now. It is
not over-powering, but such that many a girl, even many a pretty
and good one, might give me her hand on it and say, 'It will be
hard to make both ends meet, but you shall find me a good
housekeeper etc. etc.'—At that time you thought so too, per¬
haps—Now you think differently—my mind reels.
To business. Unless a gift falls from heaven, I do not see how
I can increase my income in a short time as much as, on your
account, I could wish. You know the kind of work I do, you
know that it is purely intellectual, that it cannot be carried on
at any moment like manual labour. ... I have shown that I
can persevere,- mention any young fellow of my age who has
made for himself so wide a sphere of activity in so short a time.
It goes without saying, that I should like to extend it, to earn
94 WOMEN IN MUSIC

more, and in this I shall not fail; but I do not believe that this
will achieve as much as you wish, or as you perhaps have now;
on the other hand I can with a clear conscience rely upon being
able to support one wife or even two wives, in about two years'
time, without any great anxiety, though certainly not without
continuing to work.
Dear Clara, the last page of your letter brought me down to
earth, and I should like to embrace all the clod-hoppers. You
might have expressed it more romantically though; I find it diffi¬
cult to say a word in answer. ... As I said, your father held
the pen,- the coldness of the lines has something killing in it.
. . . And now too, that you think so little of my ring-since
yesterday I have cared no more for yours, and no longer wear
it. I dreamt that I was walking by a deep pool, and an impulse
seized me and I threw the ring into it-then I was filled with
a passionate longing to throw myself after it. . . .
... I will write more to-morrow; my head is on fire, and my
eyes are heavy with grief over you. Farewell, however.

Clara to Robert:

Vienna Wednesday Dec. 6th 1837

As great as my joy on receiving your letter, was my sorrow
on reading the first page—could you so wound me, draw from
me such bitter tears? Is it Robert who so misunderstood me, who
read so ugly a meaning into my words—have I deserved this?
Yes, I know that many beautiful and perhaps as good girls as I
are at your disposal, and better housewives than any artist is sup¬
posed to be—yes, I know it, but it is not well that you should
mention such a thought to me, to me who live but for you and
in you, or that such a thought should come to you, if you love
me indeed. . . . You think that I harbour unattainable wishes?
I want but two things, your heart and your happiness.
How could I be calm if you were burdened with cares on my
account? Could I be guilty of the base desire that you should
turn your genius into a drudge so that I might follow my pleasure?
No, my thoughts are not so base; perhaps you will learn to know
1820-1920 95

me better, later. My imagination can picture no fairer happiness

than to continue living for art, but quite quietly, so that we
may both owe many a pleasant hour to it. So we agree in all
things, and I fall upon your heart and say: 'Yes Robert, let us
live like this!' Do you think that I too, do not love passionately?
Oh yes! I too can be passionate, but passion ceases when our
hearts are full of care, then you would indeed feel yourself brought
down to earth. I see that much is required for a simple life—
—but do not doubt on this account, that everything will all right.
I have steadfast faith, your ring says to me daily: 'Believe, love,
and hope.'

Clara to Robert:

[Vienna, December]
Today, the 13th, Fischhof3 said to me: 'I have a letter from
Schumann,' and I shook all over as I do every time I hear your
name — The most terrible of all questions is always: 'Who is
this Schumann? where does he live? does he play the piano?'
— 'He composes.' — 'What are his compositions like?' Then I
want to say, like you, 'He is a person with whom you have nothing
at all to do, who stands so far above you that you are incapable
of understanding him, and who cannot be described in words,
etc.' I had to puzzle out several words in your letter to-day, which
Fischhof could not read. How glad I was to see the writing, and
when I saw your name at the bottom, my heart was at once
glad and sad. — I could have wept for pain and joy! — Ah!
Robert, believe me, I have many sorrowful hours! No pleasure
is complete to me when you are not there! How many polite
things I have to say to people, and all the while I am conscious
of nothing but the thought of you.
. . . But do not judge Father harshly because of what I wrote
about him; he does not now try to persuade me to give you
up, because he knows that that hurts my feelings, depresses
and disheartens me, and makes it difficult for me to give concerts

3. Josef Fischhof, a Viennese musician and contributor to Robert's Neue Zeit-

schrift fill Musik.
96 WOMEN IN MUSIC

and to practise—he thinks his letter has put an end to every¬

thing. . . .
But it hurts me when you wish to cast a stone at Father because
he wishes for some small recompense for all the hours which
he has devoted to me. He wishes me to be happy, and thinks
that is to be obtained by riches; can you be angry with him for
it? He loves me above all things, and would not thrust me, his
child, away from him if he saw that my happiness could be
founded on you alone, so, for love of me, forgive him his natural
vanity. Consider that he has treated you like this only for love
of me. You too love me, and you make me happy when you
forgive him,- I would not have him misunderstood by you—every
man has his faults, I have and so have you—you will allow me
to say so!

Clara to Robert:

[Vienna, December] The 21st

My second concert took place to-day, and was another triumph.
Of the many items in the programme my concerto had the best
reception. You ask if I always play it by my own wish—certainly
I do, for it has been well received everywhere, and has given
satisfaction to connoisseurs and to the public in general. Whether
or no it satisfies me is another question. Do you think that I
am so weak as not to know well enough what are the faults of
the concerto? I know them, well enough but the audience does
not, and what is more need not, know. Do you think I would
play it, if it took as little everywhere as it did in Leipzig? Certainly
when one has been here one never wants go North again, where
men have hearts of stone (you are, of course, excepted). You
ought to listen to a storm of applause here. I had to repeat the
Bach fugue and the Henselt variations. No pleasanter feeling than
that of having satisfied a whole audience.
So much for me—Now for you. ... I was much amused at
the place in your letter where you write, 'And so we will come
back to our house, laden with treasure.' Good heavens! what
are you thinking of? Treasures are no longer to be got by instru-
1820-1920 97

mental art. How much one has to do in order to bring away a

few thaler from a town. When you are sitting with Poppe at 10
o'clock in the evening, or are going home, I, poor thing, am arriv¬
ing at a party, where I have to play to people for a few pretty
words and a cup of warm water, and get home, dead tired, at
11 or 12 o'clock, drink a draught of water, lie down, and think,
'Is an artist much more than a beggar?' And yet art is a fine
gift! What, indeed, is finer than to clothe one's feelings in music,
what a comfort in time of trouble, what a pleasure, what an exqui¬
site feeling, to give happy hours to so many people by its means!
And what an exalted feeling so to follow art that one gives one's
life to it! — I have done that, and all the rest, to-day, and I lay
myself down, happy and contented. Yes, I am happy but shall
be perfectly so, only when I can fling myself on your heart and
say, 'Now I am yours for ever—I and my art.'

After a lawsuit against Wieck was settled in their favor, Clara

and Robert Schumann were married on September 12, 1840,
the day before Clara's twenty-first birthday. During their four¬
teen years together they attempted to combine Robert's work
in composition with Clara's career as a concert pianist. Naturally
there were conflicts, and although Clara did not perform in pub¬
lic and tour as much as she wished, her life with Robert greatly
enriched her artistic powers. In turn, Clara influenced Robert's
compositions and was often the performer to introduce them
to the public. The following letter and entries by Robert in a
diary that the couple kept together were written when the Schu¬
manns had just one child, Marie. With each of her subsequent
seven children, Clara's domestic responsibilities increased.

Clara to her friend Emilie List after her return from concertiz-
ing in Copenhagen:

[Leipzig, May 30th, 1842]

Yes, I really went to Copenhagen alone (that is without Robert,
but with a lady from Bremen) and separated myself from him,
but this shall never happen again if God wills. I will explain
98 WOMEN IN MUSIC

the whole matter to you, so that you may understand our step.
. . . In Hamburg [where the Schumanns had gone for a perfor¬
mance of Robert's Symphony no. 1 in B-flat major, op. 38] they
strongly advised us to visit Copenhagen, and we also received
various invitations from thence, so that we made up our minds
to accept, and at once began to prepare for my concert.
But as the time drew on, Robert saw more and more clearly
the impossibility of leaving his paper4 in strange hands for perhaps
two months (the three weeks, for which he had arranged, were
ended) and so we decided to give up the journey. I thought the
matter over, however. I am a woman, I shall not be neglecting
anything, I earn nothing at home, why should I not by means
of my talent, gain my mite for Robert? Could anyone think ill
of me for so doing, or of my husband for going home to his
child and his business? I laid my plan before Robert, and it is
true that at first he shrank from it, but in the end he agreed,
when I represented the matter to him as reasonably as possible.
It was certainly a great step for a wife who loves her husband
as I do, but I did it for love of him, and for that no sacrifice is
too great or too hard for me. In addition to this I now found a
nice girl who with the greatest joy offered to come with me; a
girl belonging to one of the most highly respected families in
Bremen, and with whom my husband knew that I should be
safe. We left Hamburg on the same day, Robert for Leipzig, and
I, by way of Kiel, for Copenhagen—I shall never forget the day
of our parting!

Robert in the diary during Clara's trip to Copenhagen:

[Leipzig, March 14th]

The separation has once more made me very conscious of my
peculiar and difficult position. Am I to neglect my own talent,
in order to serve you as a companion on your journies? Have
you allowed your talent to lie useless, or ought you to do so,
because I am chained to the paper and to the piano? Now, when

4. The Neue Zeitschrift fill Musik.

1820-1920 99

you are young and in full possession of your powers? We found

the solution. You took a companion with you, and I came back
to the child and to my work. But what will the world say? Thus
I torture myself with thinking. Yes, it is most necessary that
we should find some means by which we can both utilise and
develop our talents side by side.

Robert in the diary:

[Leipzig, October]
She played well and finely, as she always does. I am often
sorry that I so frequently hinder Clara in her study, because she
will not disturb me when I am composing. For I know well that
any artist who appears in public, however great he may be, can
never give up certain mechanical exercises, but must always keep
the elasticity of his fingers, so to speak, in practice. And for this,
my dear artist often has no time. So far as the deeper part of
musical education is concerned, Clara certainly has not stood still,
but, on the contrary, has advanced; now she lives in good music
alone, and her playing is therefore the sounder and at once more
intellectual and more tender than it was.5 But she often has not
the time to bring technique to the point of absolute certainty,
and that is my fault; and yet I cannot help it. Clara realizes that
I must develop my talent, that I am now at the best of my powers,
and that I must make use of my youth. Well, so must it be
when artists marry,- one cannot have everything; and after all
the chief thing is the happiness which remains over and above,
and we are happy indeed in that we possess one another and
understand one another, understand and love with all our hearts.

Because of his deteriorating mental health, in 1854 Robert

Schumann entered a sanitorium at Endenich near Bonn, where
two years later he died. Clara was pregnant at the time Robert
became terminally ill, and soon after the birth of their eighth
child she set out on the first of the many concert tours that
5. Together they had been studying Bach's fugues, Mozart's overtures, and
the Beethoven overtures, symphonies, and piano sonatas.
100 WOMEN IN MUSIC

were to become a regular feature of her life for more than thirty
years. She was motivated, certainly, by the necessity of providing
for a large family, but she also seems to have felt a need for
artistic self-expression that had been largely unfulfilled. Further¬
more, total involvement in music performance, much of it Rob¬
ert's music, gave solace.
Clara's friendship with Brahms and the violinist Joseph Joa¬
chim provided some comfort throughout Robert's illness and
the aftermath of his death. These friendships, like so many
others Clara made, became lifelong. In Brahms, Clara also en¬
joyed the association with creative genius that she had known
with Robert. She followed the acceptance of Robert's music with
natural gratification.
Clara Schumann recognized her own importance as a pianist,
and in the years following Robert's death she clearly considered
herself first an artist and only afterward a parent. While Clara
toured, the Schumann children were deposited with family
friends and grandparents and in boarding schools. Clara wrote
to her children constantly, and she arranged family reunions
whenever she could, often for the complete summer. As soon
as they were old enough, the eldest Schumann daughters took
over the management of the family and of Clara's concert tours
and teaching.

Clara to her half-brother, Woldemar Bargiel:

London, May 3rd 1857

I have not very good news of myself to send you from here—I
am often overwhelmed with home-sickness, and do not know
how to endure it. So far it has been a very bad season, and if it
does not improve in June ... I shall come back. ... I have had
only two engagements this month; if all goes well and I get two
more I shall have just enough to pay my expenses ... so you see
I have a right to be anxious. And 1 am not being successful with
lessons either. Here things always move very slowly. Tomorrow,
I play in public for the first time—and oh! I do not feel in the
mood for it.
1820-1920 101

Clara in her diary:

London, June 7th

What bitter struggles I have endured all through the day, how
heavily the thought of to-morrow6 weighed on my heart! Oh!
if only I had my beloved friend here, and could end my tears
upon his heart. But the heart which has lost Him, the most glori¬
ous husband in the world, can know no end to tears. Spirit of
my Robert look down on me, comfort, strengthen your unhappy
wife—ah! I can write no more.

[London] June 8th

. . . Today Johannes [Brahms] set the stone over my dear one's
grave—my whole soul went with him.

[Zurich] Dec. 19th

To please Wagner71 played Robert's Etudes symphoniques [op.

[Zurich] Dec. 21st

From a pecuniary point of view the tour has been very success¬
ful, that is I am now in a position to pay all the debts which I
incurred by moving house. But now I have to earn enough to
support us till next winter.

[Munich] Dec. 22nd

Arrived in Munich in the evening, still filled with impressions
of Switzerland and the Alps, which I have breathed in as one
inhales the perfume of flowers.

Clara to Joachim:

Munich Dec. 27th

. . . The day before yesterday I played Robert's concerto [in
A minor, op. 54] in the Odeon here, and was much applauded.

6. Robert's birthday.
7. Richard Wagner, who was at that time in Zurich.
102 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Clara Schumann and Joseph Joachim, Adolph Friedrich Menzel, 1854.

1820-1920 103

Afterwards, the orchestra gave me a beautiful laurel-wreath, which

I would so gladly have passed on to him, even if it were but
laying it on his grave. I have had no lack of wreathes altogether,
but I have never received one without thinking how many of
its leaves belong to you and Johannes. If I could deck you with
them as my heart and conscience dictate, nothing would be left
for me. No one else knows how much I have to thank you for;
and indeed no words can express it, but I feel it warmly and
eternally.

Clara in her diary:

[London] May [1865]

I find a marked change, since five years ago, in the attitude
towards Robert. To my great surprise I now find a large number
of Schumann devotees—one of the most zealous is [George]
Grove, whom, apart from that, I like more and more, and with
whom I feel quite at home.

[London] May 3rd

I played Beethoven's E-flat major concerto [concerto no. 5, op.
73] at the Musical Society. I succeeded in playing it wonderfully
well, and the applause was enormous. . . . We see the Joachims8
every day, which always gives me a sense of being at home.

[London, May] 15th

A red-letter evening in my mind, for such a reception must
really warm anybody's heart. The manager of the Popular Concerts
[S. Arthur] (Chappell) had arranged a Schumann evening, at
which only Robert's works were to be performed. Joachim played
the A minor quartet [op. 41, no. 1], and I played the C-sharp
minor Etudes [Symphonic Etudes, op. 13] and some little things.
The reception given to me was warmer than any I have ever
known, and I was really moved by it. It was long before I could
seat myself at the piano. Ah! if Robert could have lived to see

8. Joachim's wife, Amalie, was a singer.

104 WOMEN IN MUSIC

it, he would never have thought that he (for the greater part of
the applause was for Him) could have received such recognition
in England.

Clara to Brahms:

London, March 19th 1868

186 Piccadilly
I have been long in finding time to answer your letter, and
how much joy and sorrow I have known in the mean time! It
has been a period of great anxiety, as you will already have heard
in Berlin. I must not begin to tell you about it, or I should never
stop. I have good hopes that Felix9 may quite recover if he spends
this summer with us, but I cannot think what is to become of
Ludwig. It is true that he has just got another post in Leipzig
but how long will it last? How different they are! One makes
me anxious by his idleness, and because he will not work, and
the other by over-working. It was fortunate that I insisted that
Felix must see a proper doctor, as I had been struck by his looks
in the autumn, and consequently the matter was at once taken
seriously. — Julie has been in Frankfort for the last 3 weeks,
and seems much better than she was last summer. Thus things
ever go up and down, and the poor mother's heart is never at
peace. It was doubly hard that these anxieties should come upon
me here, but the struggle increases one's power of resistance, as
I have once more found in my own experience. But I have begun
by writing about us and I wanted to talk to you about yourself.
. . . And so you are really going to settle down in Vienna? I do
not think it is such a bad thing. I too, should like to live there,
if I could find what I wanted. . . . You seem to imagine that I
have made enough money and that I am now travelling for my
own amusement.10 But one does not exert oneself to such an
extent for pleasure. Besides, the present moment, when my powers

9. Felix, Ludwig, and Julie in this letter are three of Clara's eight children.
10. In his letter of February 2, 1868, Brahms advised Clara to give up concertiz-
ing. See Letters of Clara Schumann and Johannes Brahms, 1853-96, ed. Berthold
Litzmann, 2 vols. (London: Macmillan, 1913), 2:218-19.
1820-1920 105

are at their greatest and when I am most successful, is hardly

the time at which, as you advise, to withdraw into private life.
During the past year I have been received everywhere with such
warmth . . . and, with few exceptions, I have played so well,
that I cannot quite see why I should stop just at this moment.
. . . But I will think the matter over. I cannot weigh it properly
until I know what reasons have moved you to say all that to
me, and why you did it at a time when it might have made an
impression on me which would have paralysed all my powers
. . . it was inconsiderate of you—to say the least of it.

Clara in her diary:

[April]
I was to have gone to the performance of Johannes' Requiem
[the German Requiem, op. 45] at Bremen, but I was too depressed
to make up my mind to it. However, Rosalie [Leser] and Marie
[her daughter] urged me so strongly that on April 9th I really
did go to Bremen. I travelled to Wunstorf with [Ernst] Rudorff,
and there I met Joachim and his wife who were also on their
way to Bremen. We arrived just in time for the rehearsal—Johan¬
nes was already standing at the conductor's desk. The Requiem
quite overpowered me. . . . Johannes showed himself an excellent
conductor. The work had been wonderfully studied by [Karl]
Reinthaler. In the evening, after the rehearsal, we all met to¬
gether—a regular congress of artists.

[Bremen, April] Friday, Good Friday, the 10th

Performance of the Requiem, and in addition to this Frau Joa¬
chim sang an aria from the Messiah, as I never heard her sing
before, exquisitely accompanied by her husband on the violin.
The Requiem has taken hold of me as no sacred music ever
did before. . . . As I saw Johannes standing there, baton in hand,
I could not help thinking of my dear Robert's prophecy, "Let
him but once grasp the magic wand and work with orchestra
and chorus," which is fulfilled to-day. The baton was really a
magic wand and its spell was upon all present, even upon his
106 WOMEN IN MUSIC

bitterest enemies. It was a joy such as I have not felt for a long
time. After the performance there was a supper in the Rathskeller,
at which everyone was jubilant—it was like a musical festival.
A crowd of friends were together, among them [Julius] Stockhau¬
sen . . . [Max] Bruch, the Dietrichs [Albert and Clara], [Julius]
Grimm, Rieter [J. Melchior Rieter-Biedermann] . . . but curiously
enough, except for some ladies who had been singing in the cho¬
rus, there was no-one from Hamburg . . . except Johannes' father.
Reinthaler made a speech about Johannes which so moved me
that (unfortunately!!!) I burst into tears. I thought of Robert,
and what joy it would have been to him if he could have lived
to see it. . . . Johannes pressed me to stay in Bremen for another
day. ... I wish I had not given way to him.

Clara to Brahms:

Baden-Baden, Oct. 15th

... You wished for no answer, but you are still labouring
under a mistake. . . . Your letter11 is not the wall that stands
between us. . . . But indeed there is no question of any wall to
be torn down, all that is needed is a little friendliness and a
little more self-control . . . these would more than suffice to
make our meetings far happier than ever. ... It lies in your
hands alone, dear Johannes, whether the clouds shall roll away
or whether a wall is really to rise between us, which would fill
me with the deepest sorrow. As to your letter, I had long ago
dismissed it from my mind— It is you who remind me of it.
. . . Your conception of a concert tour seems to me remarkable!
You look upon it merely as a means of earning money: I do not.
I feel myself called upon to reproduce beautiful works, Robert's
above all, so long as I have the strength, and even if it were
not absolutely necessary I should still go on tour, though not
in the exhausting fashion in which I am often compelled to at
present. The practice of my art is a great part of me myself, it

11. The same letter of February 2, 1868.

1820-1920 107

is the air in which I breathe. On the other hand, I would rather

starve than play in public with only half my powers.

Brahms to Clara:

Hamburg, Oct.
I wanted a very quiet hour, dearest Clara, in which to put
into words my heart-felt thanks for your letter. As I have not
been able to find one, they shall at least come flying at my usual
letter tempo. There is so much that is true in your letter—if
not all—I must confess that with remorse and regret,- but with
pleasure and satisfaction 1 realise how kind it is—only an angel
like you could have written so kindly. A thousand thanks,- shall
I believe, or dare I only hope, that your goodness will never again
have cause to turn into forbearance?
Life is a wild polyphony, but a good woman like you, can often
bring about some exquisite resolution of its discords.
Have you found the variations for two pianos,12 and could we
not play them in Vienna? I have to go there and November will
suit me perfectly.

At the age of fifty-nine Clara Schumann undertook a full¬

time position at the Hoch Conservatory in Frankfurt, where
she taught from 1878-92. Her contract allowed her time for
touring. Clara in her diary:

Frankfurt, Oct. 29th [1884]

Every day, at present, I dictate Robert's letters to me,-13 they
give me great pleasure but at the same time make me very sad.
What imagination, what intellect, what delicate perception com¬
bined with manly strength, and what love!! The very weight of
riches and happiness is almost oppressive, and it is a good thing
that my work takes me quite out of myself, otherwise, my health

12. Robert Schumann's Andante and Variations in B flat major, op. 46.
13. Clara edited the collection Jugendbriefe von Robert Schumann, which was
published in Leipzig in 1885, and in English translation in 1888.
108 WOMEN IN MUSIC

would certainly suffer. These letters awaken my longing more

than words can say, and my heart's wounds bleed afresh. What
have I possessed and lost! And yet how long have I gone on
living and working. Where does one . . . find the strength? I
found it in my children and in art—they have sustained me by
their love and art too has never played me false.

f
18 AMY FAY: PIANIST

Concert life and the proliferation of art music are slow

to develop in a new country, hut by the middle of the nineteenth
century these traditions were becoming well established in the
United States. Increasingly, Americans intent on careers as con¬
cert and opera artists journeyed to Europe to complete their
preparation and to gain performing experience. Pianist Amy Fay
(1844-1928) was an early participant in, as well as an unwitting
promoter of, this migration. After studying at the New England
Conservatory and with John Knowles Paine at Harvard College,
in 1869 Fay went to Germany, where for the next six years
she worked with Carl Tausig, Theodore Kullak, Ludwig Dieppe,
and Liszt. Fay's letters to her family at home, in which she
enthusiastically described her studies and the great artists she
heard in concert, were subsequently collected and published
by her sister Melusina Fay Pierce in 1880 as Music Study in
Germany. The book was enormously popular—with twenty-one
printings in the United States in the nineteenth century alone—
and is generally credited with having influenced thousands of
Americans to study abroad, despite the admonishment from the
editor that American piano teaching had "developed im¬
mensely" since Fay left for Germany in 1869.
In the following excerpts Fay discusses her introduction to
life in a Berlin pension, her studies at Tausig's conservatory,
Clara Schumann 's playing, and her work with Liszt. For all her
admiration of Liszt, Fay in turn earned a high place when Liszt
was asked to rank his pupils. Following her successful debut
in Frankfurt in 1875, Fay returned to the United States and

Amy Fay, Music Study in Germany (Chicago: A. C. McClurg, 1880), pp. 13-
16, 20-22, 210-14, 222-25.
110 WOMEN IN MUSIC

pursued a notable career as a performer, teacher, and champion

for the advancement of women in music. (See also Readings
28 and 37.)

Berlin; November 3, 1869

Behold me at last at No. 26 Bernburger Strasse! where I arrived
exactly two weeks from the day I left New York. Frau W. and
her daughter, Fraulein A. W., greeted me with the greatest warmth
and cordiality, and made me feel at home immediately. The Ger¬
man idea of a "large" room I find is rather peculiar, for this
one is not more than ten or eleven feet square, and has one corner
of it snipped off, so that the room is an irregular shape. When
I first entered it I thought I could not stay in it, it seemed so
small, but when I came to examine it, so ingeniously is every
inch of space made the most of, that I have come to the conclusion
that it will be very comfortable. It is not, however, the apartment
where "the last new novel will lie upon the table, and where
my daintily slippered feet will rest upon the velvet cushion."
No! rather is it the stern abode of the Muses.
To begin then: the room is spotlessly clean and neat. The walls
are papered with a nice new paper, grey ground with blue figures—
a cheap paper, but soft and pretty. In one corner stands my little
bureau with three deep drawers. Over it is a large looking-glass
nicely framed. In the other corner on the same side is a big sofa
which at night becomes a little bed. Next to the foot of the
sofa, against the wall, stands a tiny square table, with a marble
top, and a shelf underneath, on which are a basin and a minute
soap-dish and tumbler. In the opposite corner towers a huge grey
porcelain stove, which comes up to within a few feet of the ceiling.
Next is one stiff cane-bottomed chair on four stiff legs. Then
comes the lop-sided corner of the room, where an upright piano
is to stand. Next there is a little space where hangs the three-
shelved book-case, which will contain my vast library. Then
comes a broad French window with a deep window-seat. By this
window is my sea-chair—by far the most luxurious one in the
house! Then comes my bureau again, and so on Da Capo. In
the middle is a pretty round table, with an inlaid centre-piece,
1820-1920 111

and on it is a waiter with a large glass bottle full of water, and

a glass,- and this, with one more stiff chair, completes the furniture
of the room. My curtains are white, with a blue border, and two
transparencies hang in the window. My towel-rack is fastened
to the wall, and has an embroidered centre-piece. On my bureau
is a beautiful inkstand, the cover being a carved eagle with spread
wings, perched over a nest with three eggs in it. It is quite large,
and looks extremely pretty under the looking-glass.
After I had taken off my things, Frau W. and her daughter
ushered me into their parlour, which had the same look of neat¬
ness and simplicity and of extreme economy. There are no carpets
on any of the floors, but they have large, though cheap, rugs.
You never saw such a primitive little household as it is—that
of this German lawyer's widow. We think our house at home
small, but I feel as if we lived in palatial magnificence after seeing
how they live here, i.e., about as our dress-makers used to do
in the country, and yet it is sufficiently nice and comfortable.
There are two very pretty little rooms opposite mine, which are
yet to be let together. If some friend of mine could only take
them I should be perfectly happy.
At night my bed is made upon the sofa. (They all sleep on
these sofas.) The cover consists of a feather bed and a blanket.
That sounds rather formidable, but the feather bed is a light,
warm covering, and looks about two inches thick. It is much
more comfortable than our bed coverings in America. I tuck myself
into my nest at night, and in the morning after breakfast, when
1 return to my room—agramento-presto-change!—my bed is con¬
verted into a sofa, my basin is laid on the shelf, the soap-dish
and my combs and brushes are scuttled away into the drawer,-
the windows are open, a fresh fire crackles in my stove, and my
charming little bed-room is straightway converted into an equally
charming sitting-room. How does the picture please you?
This morning Frau and Fraulein W. went with me to engage
a piano, and they took me also to the conservatory. Tausig is
off for six weeks, giving concerts. As I went up the stairs I heard
most beautiful playing. [Louis] Ehlert, Tausig's partner, who has
charge of the conservatory, and teaches his pupils in his absence,
112 WOMEN IN MUSIC

examined me. After that long voyage I did not dare attempt any¬
thing difficult, so I just played one of Bach's Gavottes. He said
some encouraging words, and for the present has taken me into
his class. I am to begin to-morrow from one o'clock to two. It
is now ten P.M., and tell C. we have had five meals to-day, so
Madame P.'s statement is about correct. The cooking is on the
same scale as the rest of the establishment—a little at a time,
but so far very good. We know nothing at all about rolls in Amer¬
ica. Anything so delicious as the rolls here I never ate in the
way of bread. In the morning we had a cup of coffee and rolls.
At eleven we lunched on a cup of bouillon and a roll. At two
o'clock we had dinner, which consisted of soup and then chickens,
potatoes, carrots and bread, with beer. At five we had tea, cake
and toast, and at nine we had a supper of cold meat, boiled eggs,
tea and bread and butter. Fraulein W. speaks English quite nicely,
and is my medium of communication with her mother. I begin
German lessons with her to-morrow. They both send you their
compliments, and so you must return yours. They seem as kind
as possible, and I think I am very fortunate in my boarding place.
Be sure to direct your letters "Care Frau Geheimrathin W."
(Mrs. Councillor W.), as the German ladies are very particular
about their titles!

Berlin, November 21
Tausig has not yet returned from his concert tour, and will
not arrive before the 21st of December. I find Ehlert a splendid
teacher, but very severe, and I am mortally afraid of him. Not
that he is cross, but he exacts so much, and such a hopeless
feeling of despair takes possession of me. His first lesson on touch
taught me more than all my other lessons put together—though,
to be sure, that is not saying much, as they were "few and far
between." At present I am weltering in a sea of troubles. The
girls in my class are three in number, and they all play so extraordi¬
narily well that sometimes I think I can never catch up with
them. I am the worst of all the scholars in Tausig's classes that
I have heard, except one, and that is a young man. I know that
Ehlert thinks I have talent, but, after all, talent must go to the
1820-1920 113

wall before such practice as these people have had, for most of
them have studied a long time, and have been at the piano four
and five hours a day.
It is very interesting in the conservatory, for there are pupils
there from all countries except France. Some of them seem to
me splendid musicians. On Sunday morning (I am sorry to say)
once in a month or six weeks, they have what they call a "Musical
Reading." It is held in a piano-forte ware-room, and there all
the scholars in the higher classes play, so I had to go. Many of
the girls played magnificently, and I was amazed at the technique
that they had, and at the artistic manner in which even very
young girls rendered the most difficult music, and all without
notes. It gave me a severe nervous headache just to hear them.
But it was delightful to see them go at it. None of them had
the least fear, and they laughed and chattered between the pieces,
and when their turn came they marched up to the piano, sat
down as bold as lions, and banged away so splendidly!
You have no idea how hard they make [J. B.] Cramer's Studies
here. Ehlert makes me play them tremendously forte, and as fast
as I can go. My hand gets so tired that it is ready to break, and
then I say that I cannot go on. "But you must go on," he will
say. It is the same with the scales. It seems to me that I play
them so loud that I make the welkin ring, and he will say, "But
you play always piano." And with all this rapidity he does not
allow a note to be missed, and if you happen to strike a wrong
one he looks so shocked that you feel ready to sink into the
floor. Strange to say, I enjoy the lessons in Zusammenspiel (duet¬
playing) very much, although it is all reading at sight. Four of
us sit down at two pianos and read duets at sight. Lesmann is a
pleasant man, and he always talks so fast that he amuses me
very much. He always counts and beats time most vigorously,
and bawls in your ear, "Eins—zwei! Eins—zwei!" or sometimes,
"Eins!" only, on the first beat of every bar. When, occasionally,
we all get out, he looks at us through his glasses, and then such
a volley of words as he hurls at us is wonderful to hear. I never
can help laughing, though I take good care not to let him see
me.
114 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Berlin, December 12, 1869

I heard Clara Schumann on Sunday, and on Tuesday evening,
also. She is a most wonderful artist. In the first concert she played
a quartette by Schumann, and you can imagine how lovely it
was under the treatment of Clara Schumann for the piano, [Jo¬
seph] Joachim for the first violin, [Heinrich] De Ahna for the
second, and [Wilhelm] Muller for the 'cello. It was perfect, and
I was in raptures. Madame Schumann's selection for the two con¬
certs was a very wide one, and gave a full exhibition of her powers
in every kind of music. The Impromptu by Schubert, op. 90,
was exquisite. It was full of passion and very difficult. The second
of the Songs without Words, by Mendelssohn, was the most fairy¬
like performance. It is one of those things that must be tossed
off with the greatest grace and smoothness, and it requires the
most beautiful and delicate technique. She played it to perfection.
The terrific Scherzo by Chopin she did splendidly, but she kept
the great octave passages in the bass a little too subordinate, I
thought, and did not give it quite boldly enough for my taste,
though it was extremely artistic. Clara Schumann's playing is
very objective. She seems to throw herself into the music, instead
of letting the music take possession of her. She gives you the
most exquisite pleasure with every note she touches, and has a
wonderful conception and variety in playing, but she seldom
whirls you off your feet.
At the second concert she was even better than at the first,
if that is possible. She seemed full of fire, and when she played
Bach, she ought to have been crowned with diamonds! Such noble
playing 1 never heard. In fact you are all the time impressed
with the nobility and breadth of her style, and the comprehensive¬
ness of her treatment, and oh, if you could hear her scales! In
short, there is nothing more to be desired in her playing, and
she has every quality of a great artist. Many people say that Tausig
is far better, but I cannot believe it. He may have more technique
and more power, but nothing else I am sure. Everybody raves
over his playing, and I am getting quite impatient for his return,
which is expected next week. I send you Madame Schumann's
photograph, which is exactly like her. She is a large, very German-
1820-1920 115

looking woman, with dark hair and superb neck and arms. At
the last concert she was dressed in black velvet, low body and
short sleeves, and when she struck powerful chords, those large
white arms came down with a certain splendor.
As for Joachim, he is perfectly magnificent, and has amazing
power. When he played his solo in that Chaconne of Bach's,1
you could scarcely believe it was only one violin. He has, like
Madame Schumann, the greatest variety of tone, only on the
violin the shades can be made far more delicate than on the piano.
I thought the second movement of Schumann's Quartette per¬
haps as extraordinary as any part of Clara Schumann's perfor¬
mance. It was very rapid, very staccato, and pianissimo all the
way through. Not a note escaped her fingers, and she played
with so much magnetism that one could scarcely breathe until
it was finished. You know nothing can be more difficult than
to play staccato so very softly where there is great execution also.
Both of the sonatas for violin and piano which were played by
Madame Schumann and Joachim, and especially the one in A
minor, by Beethoven [op. 23], were divine. Both parts were
equally well sustained, and they played with so much fire—as
if one inspired the other. It was worth a trip across the Atlantic
just to hear those two performances.
The Sing-Akademie, where all the best concerts are given, is
not a very large hall, but it is beautifully proportioned, and the
acoustic is perfect. The frescoes are very delicate, and on the
left are boxes all along, which add much to the beauty of the
hall, with their scarlet and gold flutings. Clara Schumann is a
great favorite here, and there was such a rush for seats that, though
we went early for our tickets, all the good parquet seats were
gone, and we had to get places on the estrade, or place where
the chorus sits—when there is one. But I found it delightful
for a piano concert, for you can be as close to the performer as
you like, and at the same time see the faces of the audience. 1
saw ever so many people that I knew, and we kept bowing away
at each other.

1. Partita no. 2, BWV 104.

116 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Just think how convenient it is here with regard to public

amusements, for ladies can go anywhere alone! You take a drosch-
kie and they drive you anywhere for five groschen, which is about
fifteen cents. When you get into the concert hall you go into
the garde-robe and take off your things, and hand them over to
the care of the woman who stands there, and then you walk in
and sit down comfortably as you would in a parlour, and are
not roasted in your hat and cloak while at the concert, and chilled
when you go out, as we are in America. Their programmes, too,
are not so unconscionably long as ours, and, in short, their whole
method of concert-giving is more rational than with us. I always
enjoy the garde-robe, for if you have acquaintances you are sure
to meet them, and you have no idea how exciting it is in a foreign
city to see anybody you know.

Weimar, May 21, 1873.

Liszt is so besieged by people and so tormented with applica¬
tions, that I fear I should only have been sent away if I had
come without the Baroness von S.'s letter of introduction,2 for
he admires her extremely, and I judge that she has much influence
with him. He says "people fly in his face by dozens," and seem
to think he is "only there to give lessons." He gives no paid
lessons whatever, as he is much too grand for that, but if one
has talent enough, or pleases him, he lets one come to him and
play to him. I go to him every other day, but I don't play more
than twice a week, as I cannot prepare so much, but I listen to
the others. Up to this point there have been only four in the
class besides myself, and I am the only new one. From four to
six P.M. is the time when he receives his scholars. The first time
I went I did not play to him, but listened to the rest. [Anton]
Urspruch and [Johann Georg] Leitert, the two young men whom
I met the other night, have studied with Liszt a long time, and
both play superbly. Fraulein Schultz and Miss Gaul (of Balti¬
more), are also most gifted creatures.
As I entered Liszt's salon, Urspruch was performing Schumann's

2. Baroness Olga von Meyerdorff.

1820-1920 117

Symphonic Studies [Symphonic Etudes, op. 13]—an immense

composition, and one that it took at least half an hour to get
through. He played so splendidly that my heart sank down into
the very depths. I thought I should never get on there! Liszt
came forward and greeted me in a very friendly manner as I en¬
tered. He was in very good humour that day, and made some
little witticisms. Urspruch asked him what title he should give
to a piece he was composing. "Per aspera ad astra/'3 said Liszt.
This was such a good hit that I began to laugh, and he seemed
to enjoy my appreciation of his little sarcasm. I did not play
that time, as my piano had only just come, and I was not prepared
to do so, but I went home and practiced tremendously for several
days on Chopin's B minor sonata [op. 58]. It is a great composi¬
tion, and one of his last works. When I thought I could play it,
I went to Liszt, though with a trembling heart. I cannot tell you
what it has cost me every time I have ascended his stairs. I can
scarcely summon up courage to go there, and generally stand
on the steps awhile before I can make up my mind to open the
door and go in!
This day it was particularly trying, as it was really my first
serious performance before him, and he speaks so very indistinctly
that I feared I shouldn't understand his corrections, and that
he would get out of patience with me, for he cannot bear to
explain. I think he hates the trouble of speaking German, for
he mutters his words and does not half finish his sentences. Yester¬
day when I was there he spoke to me in French all the time,
and to the others in German,—one of his funny whims, I suppose.
Well, on this day the artists Leitert and Urspruch, and the
young composer Metzdorf, who is always hanging about Liszt,
were in the room when I came. They had probably been playing.
At first Liszt took no notice of me beyond a greeting, till Metzdorf
said to him, "Herr Doctor, Miss Fay has brought a sonata." "Ah,
well, let us hear it," said Liszt. Just then he left the room for a
minute, and I told the three gentlemen that they ought to go
away and let me play to Liszt alone, for I felt nervous about

3. “Through difficulties to the stars."

118 WOMEN IN MUSIC

playing before them. They all laughed at me and said they would
not budge an inch. When Liszt came back they said to him, "Only
think, Herr Doctor, Miss Fay proposes to send us all home." I
said I could not play before such great artists. "Oh, that is healthy
for you," said Liszt, with a smile, and added, "you have a very
choice audience, now." I don't know whether he appreciated how
nervous I was, but instead of walking up and down the room as
he often does, he sat down by me like any other teacher, and
heard me play the first movement. It was frightfully hard, but I
had studied it so much that I managed to get through with it
pretty successfully. Nothing could exceed Liszt's amiability, or
the trouble he gave himself, and instead of frightening me, he
inspired me. Never was there such a delightful teacher! and he
is the first sympathetic one I've had. You feel so free with him,
and he develops the very spirit of music in you. He doesn't keep
nagging at you all the time, but he leaves you your own concep¬
tion. Now and then he will make a criticism, or play a passage,
and with a few words give you enough to think of all the rest
of your life. There is a delicate point to everything he says, as
subtle as he is himself. He doesn't tell you anything about the
technique. That you must work out for yourself. When I had
finished the first movement of the sonata, Liszt, as he always
does, said "Bravo!" Taking my seat, he made some little criticisms,
and then told me to go on and play the rest of it.
Now, I only half knew the other movements, for the first one
was so extremely difficult that it cost me all the labour I could
give to prepare that. But playing to Liszt reminds me of trying
to feed the elephant in the Zoological Garden with lumps of
sugar. He disposes of whole movements as if they were nothing,
and stretches out gravely for more! One of my fingers fortunately
began to bleed, for I had practiced the skin off, and that gave
me a good excuse for stopping. Whether he was pleased at this
proof of industry, I know not; but after looking at my finger
and saying, "Oh!" very compassionately, he sat down and played
the whole three last movements himself. That was a great deal,
and showed off all his powers. It was the first time I had heard
him, and I don't know which was the most extraordinary,—the
1820-1920 119

Scherzo, with its wonderful lightness and swiftness, the Adagio

with its depth and pathos, or the last movement, where the whole
keyboard seemed to "donnern und blitzen (thunder and
lighten)." There is such a vividness about everything he plays
that it does not seem as if it were mere music you were listening
to, but it is as if he had called up a real, living form, and you
saw it breathing before your face and eyes. It gives me almost a
ghostly feeling to hear him, and it seems as if the air were peopled
with spirits. Oh, he is a perfect wizard! It is as interesting to
see him as it is to hear him, for his face changes with every
modulation of the piece, and he looks exactly as he is playing.
He has one element that is most captivating, and that is, a sort
of delicate and fitful mirth that keeps peering out at you here
and there! It is most peculiar, and when he plays that way, the
most bewitching little expression comes over his face. It seems
as if a little spirit of joy were playing hide and go seek with
you.

Weimar, June 6, 1873

One day this week, when we were with Liszt, he was in such
high spirits that it was as if he had suddenly become twenty
years younger. A student from the Stuttgart Conservatory played
a Liszt Concerto. His name is V., and he is dreadfully nervous.
Liszt kept up a little running fire of satire all the time he was
playing, but in a good-natured way. I shouldn't have minded it
if it had been I. In fact, I think it would have inspired me; but
poor V. hardly knew whether he was on his head or on his feet.
It was too funny. Everything that Liszt says is so striking. For
instance, in one place where V. was playing the melody rather
feebly, Liszt suddenly took his seat at the piano and said, "When
/ play, I always play for the people in the gallery (by the gallery
he meant the cock-loft, where the rabble always sit, and where
the places cost next to nothing), so that those persons who pay
only five groschens for their seat also hear something." Then
he began, and I wish you could have heard him! The sound
didn't seem to be very loud, but it was penetrating and far-reach¬
ing. When he had finished, he raised one hand in the air, and
120 WOMEN IN MUSIC

you seemed to see all the people in the gallery drinking in the
sound. That is the way Liszt teaches you. He presents an idea
to you, and it takes fast hold of your mind and sticks there.
Music is such a real, visible thing to him, that he always has a
symbol, instantly, in the material world to express his idea. One
day, when I was playing, I made too much movement with my
hand in a rotatory sort of a passage where it was difficult to avoid
it. ''Keep your hand still, Fraulein," said Liszt; "don't make ome¬
lette. " I couldn't help laughing, it hit me on the head so nicely.
He is far too sparing of his playing, unfortunately, and, like Tausig,
only sits down and plays a few bars at a time, generally. It is
dreadful when he stops, just as you are at the height of your
enjoyment, but he is so thoroughly blase that he doesn't care
to show off, and doesn't like to have any one pay him a compli¬
ment. Even at the court it annoyed him so that the Grand Duchess
told people to take no notice when he rose from the piano.
On the same day that Liszt was in such high good-humour, a
strange lady and her husband were there who had made a long
journey to Weimar, in the hope of hearing him play. She waited
patiently for a long time through the lesson, and at last Liszt
took compassion on her, and sat down with his favourite remark
that "the young ladies played a great deal better than he did,
but he would try his best to imitate them," and then played
something of his own so wonderfully, that when he had finished
we all stood there like posts, feeling that there was nothing to
be said. But he, as if he feared we might burst out into eulogy,
got up instantly and went over to a friend of his who was standing
there, and who lives on an estate near Weimar, and said, in the
most commonplace tone imaginable, "By the way, how about
those eggs? Are you going to send me some?" It seems to be
not only a profound bore to him, but really a sort of sensitiveness
on his part. How he can bear to hear us play, I cannot imagine.
It must grate on his ear terribly, I think, because everything must
sound expressionless to him in comparison with his own marvel¬
lous conception. I assure you, no matter how beautifully we play
any piece, the minute Liszt plays it, you would scarcely recognize
it! His touch and his peculiar use of the pedal are two secrets
1820-1920 121

of his playing, and then he seems to dive down in the most

hidden thoughts of the composer, and fetch them up to the sur¬
face, so that they gleam out at you one by one, like stars!
The more I see and hear Liszt, the more I am lost in amazement!
I can neither eat nor sleep on those days that I go to him. All
my musical studies till now have been a mere going to school,
a preparation for him. I often think of what Tausig said once:
"Oh, compared with Liszt, we other artists are all blockheads."
I did not believe it at the time, but I've seen the truth of it,
and in studying Liszt's playing, I can see where Tausig got many
of his own wonderful peculiarities. I think he was the most like
Liszt of all the army that have had the privilege of his instruction.
19 LILLIAN NORDICA: OPERATIC SOPRANO

Lillian Nordica (1857-1914) was born into a family of

singers in Farmington, Maine, as Lillian Norton. Her mother,
Amanda Allen Norton, discovered her talent only after the death
of an older sister, who had shown great promise for a professional
career. Nordica studied at the New England Conservatory for
four years with John ONeill, graduating in 1876. Subsequently
she toured as a soloist with Patrick Gilmore's Band in the United
States for a year and a half, and in the spring of 1878 she traveled
with the band to Europe, her mother accompanying her.
Throughout the nineteenth century and well into the twenti¬
eth, American singers aspiring to major operatic careers found
European experience imperative in order to perfect their com¬
mand of languages and to obtain engagements with opera compa¬
nies, since so few opportunities for performing existed in the
United States. In Nordica's case, it was on the strength of Gil¬
more's handsome final payment in Paris that she and her mother
struck out on a path that kept them abroad for five years. Ulti¬
mately they met with great success, but their first years were
accomplished on a shoestring. Their lodging and food was mini¬
mal, and Lillian gave lessons to pay for her own. Even so, an
emergency loan from family members in Boston was necessary
to see them through one difficult period. The adaptability and
resourcefulness of these provincial New England women seem
as remarkable as their courage.
Amanda Allen Norton kept the family in Boston informed
about Lillian's progress through her frequent letters, the earliest

Lillian Nordica, Lillian Nordica s Training for the Opera as Told in the Letters
of Amanda Allen Norton and Lillian Nordica, from Hints to Singers by Lillian
Nordica, ed. William Armstrong, published 1923, pp. 9-11, 12-15, 17, 23-29,
36-38, 57. Reprinted by permission of the publisher, E. P. Dutton, New York.
1820-1920 123

of which are excerpted here. In the 1890s Nordica became one

of the first native American singers to join the Metropolitan
Opera, where between 1893 and 1907 she was a leading Wagne¬
rian soprano. Her stage name, Nordica, was fashioned by her
teacher in Milan, Antonio Sangiovanni, so as to sound euphoni¬
ous to Italian audiences.

Brussels, July 1, 1878

We have been away from home eight weeks. Lillian has sung
in sixty-five concerts, and we have traveled 3,000 miles since
landing in Liverpool, which, taken altogether, makes a great two
months work. . . . Lillian has sung with great success so far. I
am anxious for next Thursday, July 4, as that will close her engage¬
ment and will cap the climax. Having sung in all the great cities
of England and Scotland, also in Dublin and in Holland, if she
does well in Paris at the Trocadero [i.e., at the 1878 Exposition]
then she will feel ready to settle down and study—and prepare
to fill other engagements. She has already received letters from
managers in London. Still, we cannot yet say what course we
shall take until after July.

Paris, July 16
Now that you may know exactly what we are doing, I shall
keep strictly to the subject. We have succeeded in getting the
greatest teacher of dramatic action, [Francois] Delsarte. It is an
almost impossible thing to secure his instruction on account of
scores of applicants from every quarter. Lilly is also taking lessons
in French, two hours every day. . . . She learns very rapidly. It
remains to be seen what she can do in dramatic art. At any rate,
she has the best teacher known. He says that her voice is remarka¬
ble, and that her method is perfect.

Paris, August 25
Lilly wants very much to go to Italy, as it is the advice from
all sides to get a perfect knowledge of the language, also that
indefinite something which one hears and sees in all the best
artists. I do not feel competent to advise, but shall let her act
124 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Lillian Nordica as Elsa in Lohengrin. She sang this role at the

first Bayreuth performance of Lohengrin in 1894, after coaching
with Cosima Wagner.
1820-1920 125

according to her own instincts. All I shall do is to stand by,

which is no small part. Sometimes I am afraid she will do too
much.
But money melts, at the rate of forty or fifty dollars a week.
Her future is great, but she cannot jump into next year. She
must creep and plod.
You would be surprised to hear the progress she has made in
one month in Lucia, Traviata, and Faust. But she must have
time to learn all these things.
Now, as she does not propose to marry anyone for helping
her, the question is, can she raise three, five, seven hundred or
a thousand dollars to get the requisite teaching? [Emilio] Belari
and [Alberto, Sr.] Randegger [as coaches], for instance, will give
her lessons rather than that such a voice should stop, but Delsarte
is poor and must be paid, and the French teacher is a poor woman
who depends upon her pay,- the ladies who keep the pensions
have to collect their pay once a week to live.
Hats, gloves, and suitable dresses have to be replaced often,
for Lilly is hard on her clothing; these are legitimate expenses
and amount to no less than thirty, forty, and sometimes fifty
dollars a week. As I keep account of every week's expenses, I
know exactly how the money melts, as Lily says.

Paris, September 10
It is no child's play to learn an opera. If you think so, listen
to five or six hours of digging at Aida every day, besides two
hours [of] French verbs. . . . Lilly has done an immense amount
of work in the last four months, taking into account the seventy
concerts. Since the twelfth of August she has had forty lessons
with Belari in Italian repertory, and the same number or more
from Delsarte in dramatic action, besides her French lesson every
day.
I take care of everything connected with her dress and wait
upon her by inches, because I know that she is doing all she
can consistently. She sings most charmingly, and could, if at
home, no doubt have all [the engagements] that she could do.
But the question now is, study!!! . . . Lilly commences at nine
126 WOMEN IN MUSIC

o'clock every morning a preparatory lesson in acting, at ten a

pianist from Belari comes to the house to assist her in learning
the notes and Italian operas,- at half past eleven she practices
until twelve, then breakfast; then French for two hours; at three
music study,- at four acting with Delsarte. So her whole time is
occupied. She generally lies on the sofa while studying or reciting
French and in that way gets rested. . . . The truth of the matter
is, Lilly can be great, but she must have time to study without
injury to her health, just the same as others have done. Belari,
although he wants the credit of having her make her debut in
Madrid, says she must not hurry too fast. She will go with me
to the country for a week very soon. She has not taken a moment's
rest this year. So we will leave everything behind for a few days,
and go to a country house, eat fruit, and drink milk.

Milan, December 12
Sangiovanni says Lilly has nothing to do but to learn her operas,
and that her voice, manner, figure, face, and perfect simplicity
insure her—with good health—of the greatest fame attached to
lyric and dramatic opera. Fie is surprised that she sings both the
Lucia and the Aida, music so different in character. He also
says that she can render the greatest operas of the age if she
keeps on, but that she must have sufficient time at it, as it is
impossible to accomplish the right work by cramming [just] as
it would be to make a man of a boy at twelve years. Hundreds
have gone through this man's hands, and he knows whereof he
speaks.
His assurance to her is that next autumn she will make her
*•

debut. Sometimes though when we think, we feel as if we should

flee. The distance between us and home! The work ahead!! The
critical world!!! The expense!!!! The danger of losing health!!!!!
And then the annoyance of forgoing living and everything else.
It would rob me of my sleep if I had not the will of a giant.
But I find myself saying, "We have gone too far to give it up."

Milan, December 26
The Christmas of another year is past, and it was a day above
all others the most fraught with memories.
1820-1920 127

Mr. R_sent Lilly his disquisition on opera singers. After

thoroughly reading it twice I concluded that he must have seen
and known a great deal more of the stage than we ever have or
ever shall. Lilly has sung in many of the largest theaters and
hails in America, Great Britain, Holland, Belgium, and finally
in the French metropolis at the Trocadero, and much of that
time travelled with sixty-five gentlemen of all nationalities [i.e.,
the musicians in Gilmore's band]. . . . And not one word or
look was ever heard or seen in the least possible manner approach¬
ing disrespect. Not a man of Gilmore's band would do more than
raise his hat in complete deference to us as we met them in
hotels, theaters, or the street. As for Mr. Gilmore, he has the
bearing and the soul of a Christian gentleman.
No matter what the calling, you can find plenty of disaster,
ruin, and corruption. Every woman can stand on her own self-
made reputation, whether in church, state, or on the stage.

Milan, January 26, 1879

Lilly still likes her maestro [Sangiovanni] very much and is
going ahead as fast as is allowable. Her voice is called very heavy
and dramatic, but she is cautioned not to sing too much. . . .
They want to present II Trovatore at La Scala and have tried
twenty-seven voices, but no one has been engaged yet. I am telling
you these things to show how scarce dramatic singers are, and
that to become first class ones they have to make haste slowly
or the voice will exhaust the body. . . . We have settled with
the landlord today for all we owe him up to this time, and I
have counted over what still remains. We shall have enough for
the next month. . . . Do you realize it is nearly a year since
we left you? We were just saying that it made our heads swim
to think that we were so long and far away from home. It is a
great thing for two women to come alone to the Old World and
buffet its customs, its climates, and its foods. However, we have
been good for it, so far, and with continued health shall be.
Be of good courage at home, each side of the ocean has its
obstacles to surmount, and if you will pull with a long and strong
pull, we shall do the same, and all will be well. We do the best
we know how, sure that in the end (which by the way never
128 WOMEN IN MUSIC

comes), the summit we are climbing now will, when reached,

reveal new ones perhaps higher.

Nordica's progress was such that Sangiovanni secured debuts

for her earlier than his original plan of autumn 1879.

Milan, February 11
Lilly has signed to sing in opera, through the recommendation
of Sangiovanni. ... Of course, the first requisite to success is a
voice, but the next is to fall into the right hands.
The appearances will be what is here called a provaV:] in reality
a test to settle exactly the ability of the person whom impresarios
may hereafter recommend at a stipulated price to managers, com¬
ing for material to this great musical business center. . . . Almost
all singers have to pay for a debut; in Lilly's case the wardrobe
is found, except that she prefers to use her own gloves and boots.1
She received a pleasant letter today from Mr. C_in which
he wishes that she would come home and take the position of
soprano in Dr. Webb's church, and sing in concerts and oratorio.
He says they would give her a good salary. He also said that
she could have sung in the Messiah better than the one who
did etc., etc. He is not sanguine of her singing in opera, although
he says he has no doubt of her success. But she will attempt
on the eighth of March! And if her forte is not opera, she feels
sure of oratorio, etc. We shall wait and work and hope for the
best.

Postponed from March 8 to 10, Nordica's debut in Milan as

Donna Elvira in Don Giovanni was a decided success. In April
mother and daughter went to Brescia, where the young American
soprano triumphed in La traviata.

Brescia, April 27
My dear family in America, last night was the first appearance
of your absent Lilly in Traviata, and I have only to repeat what

1. Nordica did not have to pay for the privilege of a prova in Milan, presumably
in recognition of her outstanding talent.
1 8 20- 1 920 129

the crowded theater demonstrated, people standing in mass giving

sound of applause and brava that would have done your heart
good.
I am repaid for a year's anxiety when I see the musical public
of the second city in Lombardy calling imperatively bis! [encore]
bis!! bis!!! 'til she was nine times before the curtain with a smile
and a gracious acknowledgement for all from the proscenium
boxes to the gallery.
Only think of men and women sobbing as though they were
actually witnessing the death of a beautiful girl, who struggles
to live, yet must die. The most convincing point of all was, that
tears ran down her cheeks as she bade adieu to all the joys of
life. After this, when she returned before the curtain, loaded
with flowers of exquisite colors, it seemed as though the public
would go mad.
The owner of the opera house and impresario came immediately
to her dressing room, and gave every possible graceful acknowl¬
edgement of her artistic rendering of their beloved Traviata. This
morning at ten o'clock a string band came under her windows
at the hotel and commenced playing the overture to Traviata.
After finishing it, there were calls for Nordica! Bellissima Vio¬
letta! When she went to the window a hundred persons were
waiting, and they just rent the air with La Americana Nordica!,
La gentilissima Violetta! Sangiovanni and many others from Mi¬
lan have come to hear tonight's performance. I know you must
think me egotistical, but I am so far from home, and on such a
responsible errand, that it would not be strange if I became quite
absorbed in the results of the year's work. . . . Lilly says to write
to Mr. O'Neill that she has never swerved from his method and
teaching, and she also wishes, no matter what may go into the
papers, that he may be given his credit.

Nordica went on to further triumphs in Genoa, Nov ana, at

the Imperial Theater in St. Petersburg, and finally in 1882 at
the Paris Opera. In an undated letter, possibly written during
Nordica's seasons in St. Petersburg, Amanda Allen Norton joy¬
fully addressed some family members at home:
130 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Now Billy, Annie, and Edwin, I see the first rays of daylight
in rosy tints, just peeping above the eastern horizon. Look this
way and keep your patience. . . . The first half of the battle is
fought, and the victory is ours.

*
20 MARGARET BLAKE-ALVERSON:
CONTRALTO

In contrast to the three artists represented earlier in this

section, contralto Margaret Blake-Alverson (1836-1923) was
a minor, regional figure, but she nevertheless made an important
contribution to the early development of musical life in the
American West, in California. Blake-Alverson's father was a
Protestant clergyman from Cincinnati, who in 1849 responded
to a call to minister to the large influx of men attracted to
California by the Gold Rush. He traveled overland with his
eldest son, and upon their arrival in Stockton father and son
mined gold enough to pay for the passage of the remaining seven
children and their mother by boat and mule through the Isthmus
of Panama. This second party made the long trip in 1851, and
soon after reaching Stockton the six girls—all of whom were
musical—organized a choir for their father's First Presbyterian
Church as “an incentive for the men to forsake one day [a
week] thinking of gold. " In the selection below from her autobi¬
ography, Blake-Alverson describes an equally notable event, the
introduction of the first piano in Stockton at Christmas 1852.
In 1858 Margaret Blake-Alverson traveled once again through
the Isthmus of Panama with her husband and seven-month-old
child to Boston, where she spent four years studying voice and
singing in the chorus of the Handel and Haydn Society, in a
church choir in Dedham, Massachusetts, and with other groups.
After her return to California, Blake-Alverson worked as a
church soloist and a voice teacher in Santa Cruz, San Francisco,
and Oakland.

Margaret Blake-Alverson, Sixty Years of California Song (Oakland, Calif.: Author,

1913), pp. 29-32.
132 WOMEN IN MUSIC

In her autobiography Blake-Alverson relates how her family

decided to run a boardinghouse in Stockton and continues:

We were assigned our parts, and for two years we worked until
we were able to secure our own house, which stands today in
Stockton as one of the earlier homes and our homestead. While
in this house [i.e., the boardinghouse] there were times when
we still longed for home and the old surroundings. Sister Mary
wanted her instrument which she supposed she would never have
again. Our friends, knowing this, quietly consulted father in regard
to securing a piano as a birthday offering. But as Christmas Day
was the date of her birth, it was too late for the year 1851. We
had already entered upon the year 1852, and it would take almost
a year to get a piano here, as Mr. Atwill had not imported any
instruments as yet. Our friends were good business men and they
immediately set about to learn if a piano could not be obtained.
All this was unknown to any of us but father. William Trembly
and James Harrold, while in San Francisco, inquired at the differ¬
ent musical stores as to arrangements to obtain a piano. Kohler
&. Chase did not import at that time. They dealt in notions, fancy
goods and toys. They were not wholly in the music business
until later in the sixties. Mr. Atwill was at the time on Washington
street. He did not import largely, and when Messrs. Trembley
and Harrold came to him he gladly entered into the plan to get
a fine Chickering here by December 25th of 1852. The cost was
to be $1,200, delivered in good order. The piano order was given,
and how it came to California, whether by steamer or around
the Horn, I am not able to say. . . .
. . . Christmas came clear and bright, but mud was everywhere.
Rubber boots were indispensable this Christmas. Dinner was
served about 1:30 o'clock and everybody seemed to be in the
happiest mood. It was sister Mary's birthday and we were espe¬
cially attentive to her.
The dinner was over and the dessert was almost finished when
a rap on the front door sounded loud and rough. Father asked
Mary to go to the door as she was nearest. She obeyed and, when
she had answered the knock, a teamster handed her a letter and
1 8 20- 1 9 2 0 133

asked if Miss Mary Kroh lived here. She replied in the affirmative,
and taking the letter she glanced out of the door and saw a heavy
truck with an immense box or case on it. She said, "You must
be mistaken." He said, "Are you not Miss Kroh? This is for her."
By this time we were getting excited, and with one accord the
guests arose to see the result. Father became uneasy at her long
silence and came out in time to see her reel against the railing
of the stairs. She had read the note and realized that her great
desire had at last become a reality and her birthday had brought
her the long-wished-for piano. This is what she read in the note:
"A merry Christmas and a happy birthday for Miss Mary Ma¬
tilda Kroh, from her father and many friends who have appreciated
her noble sacrifice of the musical environment of her Eastern
home. This instrument is given as a partial compensation for her
cheerful and noble performance of her duty to her parents and
as full appreciation. James Harrold, C. V. Payton, Charles Greenly,
David Trembly, William Cobb, Charles Deering, Gilbert Clai¬
borne, William H. Knight, Samuel Grove, A. M. Thompson, Wil¬
liam Gray, Thomas Mosely, William A. Trembly, Henry Kroh,
James Holmes, Henry Noel, Austin Sperry, George H. Blake."
When the secret was out, all was excitement. Sister made her
exit upstairs and the men took off their coats and helped with
a will. Soon the beautiful instrument was out of the box and
placed in the parlor. What a rejoicing there was! Father
gave orders that Mary must play the first air, and we awaited her
coming, but she had not been able to control herself to meet
the friends and see the most magnificent gift she ever received.
Sister Sarah was dispatched to bring her down stairs. She found
her in the attitude of prayer. After much persuasion she came
down and father met her and led her to the instrument. She
stood for a moment unable to proceed. Seating herself upon the
stool, she began to play the Doxology, but her head sank upon
the piano. Then the tears gushed forth, the spell was broken
and after a short time she was able to proceed. It was now about
the hour of seven, darkness had crept on and the curtains were
closed and the lights lit. We all became more composed, music
was brought out, songs were sung and it was like a new world
134 WOMEN IN MUSIC

to us, such unexpected happiness in a far-off city of the Golden

West. Father had occasion to answer a call at the front door and
before closing he accidentally looked out, and to his surprise
the sidewalks and porch were filled with old and young men.
Along the side of the house stood scores of men in the street
as far as the eye could see, and some were sobbing. On entering
the room he said, "We have an immense congregation outside.
Get out your familiar tunes—'Home, sweet home,' etc." He then
drew aside the curtains and raised the windows, "Now, my chil¬
dren and friends, give these homesick sons and fathers a few
songs more before we assemble for the evening worship." We
sang until the hour of nine and closed with the Doxology. Once
more father went on the porch and thanked the people for their
appreciation of the music and dismissed them with the benedic¬
tion. We closed the windows and curtains and remained with
our friends a short time, when they departed fully assured that
they had brought happiness to many souls by their magnificent
gift to one who was worthy to receive it, my sainted sister, Mary
Matilda Kroh.
This is the story of the first piano in Stockton, given to sister,
December 25, 1852. This night was not the only night when
men assembled on our porch to hear the music. Later on a number
of men accosted father and told him that the music on the first
night we received the piano had so vividly brought back home
surroundings and memories of father and mother, that it was
the turning point in the path from which they had strayed and
caused them to see the error of their ways and to come back
[into the fold of the church]. Such is the influence of song upon
the young and the old.
21 SISSIERETTA JONES: SOPRANO

In the post-Civil War period, black musicians began to

achieve national recognition as concert artists in the United
States. Among them soprano Sissieretta Jones (1868-1933) was
the most publicized, after Blind Tom (Thomas Greene Bethune).
Born Mathilde S. Joyner in Portsmouth, Virginia, Jones moved
with her family at an early age to Providence, Rhode Island,
where she studied voice at the Providence Academy of Music.
Later she attended the New England Conservatory.
The group of press items in this reading traces Jones's career
from a lowly assisting artist as Mrs. Mathilde Jones or Mrs.
M. S. Jones in 1888-89 to the full-fledged prima donna in 1892
known as Mme. Sissieretta Jones, the "Black Patti." The refer¬
ence is, of course, to the white soprano Adelina Patti, and it
implies that the contemporary press felt Jones needed identifica¬
tion with a major, white star. The novelty of black performers
among white audiences usually faded after two or three years,
and accordingly in 1896 Sissieretta Jones left the concert stage
to head her own vaudeville company, Black Patti's Troubadours.
She pursued this second career successfully for fifteen years.
Black artists frequently had problems with white managers, such
as Jones's with Major Pond.

4 August 1888. New York Age

A rehearsal was held at Wallack's Theatre Wednesday afternoon
by a company of colored singers who sailed Thursday morning
on the steamer Athos for Jamaica. They will also make a tour
through the West Indies, the Windward Islands and the Spanish

Josephine Wright and Eileen Southern, "Sissieretta Jones, 1868-1933,” Black

Perspective in Music 4/2 (July 1976): 192-97, 201. Used by permission of Black
Perspective in Music.
136 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Main. Mrs. Matilda Jones, a young lady of 20 years, and Mr.

W. H. Pierce of Providence will be the stars of the affair. Mrs.
Jones is called the "Black Patti" by such men as Abbey, Schoeffel
and Grau [managers of the Metropolitan Opera], who should
be competent to judge in such matters. Mr. Pierce is said to be
one of the finest tenors in the country. The organization [called
the Tennessee Concert Company] is under'the management of
James R. Smith, while C. H. Matthews will remain to look after
the bank account. It is one of the most promising enterprises
that have ever been planned for colored artists.

20 April 1889, The Freeman

Last week, at Dockstader's Theatre, Broadway, New York, a
company known as the Georgia Minstrels appeared all week to
good business. The troupe consisted of Mme. M. S. Jones, DeWolf
Sisters, Messrs. Lew Brown, W. Owens King, Will H. Pierce, Dick
Jones, Wesley Norris, Billy Wilson, Horace Western [i.e., We¬
ston], Lew Allen and the Excelsior Quartette.
It may be surprising to note the names of some of the artists
who appeared in the Georgia Minstrels in New York last week.
An actor's lot is not a happy one; up today and down tomorrow.

17 October 1891, New York Age

BERGEN STAR CONCERTS

On Thursday evening, October 17th, a Bergen Star Concert

was given at the Bridge Street Church, Brooklyn. . . . Mrs. Flora
Batson Bergen and Mrs. Matilda S. Jones were the stars of the
evening. . . . Mrs. Jones was greeted with great applause. She
has a pleasing voice, completely under control. This is her first
appearance in Brooklyn. On Monday evening, Mrs. Bergen and
Mrs. Jones appeared at Bethel Church, this city [i.e., Manhattan],
before a large and enthusiastic audience and repeated their Brook¬
lyn triumph. . . . Madame Jones's rendition of the Meyerbeer
Cavatina1 made good her claim as an artist of high order. . . .

1. "Robert, toi que j'aime," from Robert le Diable.

1820-1920 137

Sissieretta Jones
138 WOMEN IN MUSIC

25 February 1892, Washington Post

MADAME SISSIERETTA AT THE WHITE HOUSE

Mme. M. Sissieretta Jones, who possesses a voice of extraordi¬

nary compass, that has given her the title of the "Colored Patti"
and medalist of the age, appeared before President Harrison, his
family and guests at the Executive Mansion at 10 o'clock. The
selections presented were "Cavatina" by Meyerbeer; "Suwanee
River," Waltz by Pattison, and "Home, Sweet Home." Professor
Charles Dunger accompanied her on the piano.

27 April 1892, New York Herald

THE "BLACK PATTI" AND A CAKE WALK

Five Thousand Persons Witness a Novel Entertainment

at Madison Square Garden

APPLAUSE FOR MME. JONES

She Sang the Suawanee River and Selections from Grand

Operas and Wasn't a Bit Nervous

There was a study in black and white at the Madison Square

Garden last night. About three-fourths of the scene, though, was
in white. The big garden had been prepared for a rather unique
entertainment in which the "Black Patti," heralded as "the great¬
est singer of her race," a lot of oddities, musical and otherwise,
all colored, and Levy's American Band took part.
About five thousand persons were in the Garden at nine o'clock.
The boxes were well filled, as were the arena seats, by people
whom one would not often see at a cakewalk. Many of the ladies
wore dazzling toilets, and evening dress was general among the
men. . . .

The Black Patti

When Mme. Sissieretta Jones, the "Black Patti," walked up

the steps to the platform in the center of the great amphitheatre,
1820-1920 139

her breast was covered with medals and she was smiling broadly.
She is of Dianesque proportions, very black, but with pleasing
features. She was perfectly self possessed. She began the cavatina
from Meyerbeer's opera, "Robert le Diable." After the first few
notes the audience saw that the songstress had a remarkably strong
voice, which she used with discretion.
Her effort was loudly applauded, as was her first encore, the
familiar "Way Down Upon the Suawanee River," which she sang
in excellent taste. Recalled again, she sang "The Cows Are in
the Clover" very effectively, her upper notes being especially
sweet. She received an ovation.
I saw in the audience during the evening Mr. Charles F. Chatter-
ton, Mr. Abbey's right hand man, whose special duty it is to
look after the real Adelina Patti and talk French to her. Mr. Chat-
terton said to me:—
"This colored woman is certainly a very good natural singer,
and while I should hardly feel like comparing her voice with
Mme. Patti's, I find her negro dialect much better, as shown in
her rendering of the "Suawanee River."

Born in Virginia

I talked with the "Black Patti" in her dressing room after she
had sung. She said she had not been at all nervous and found
the acoustic properties of the Garden superb. She speaks of herself
as a Providence girl although born in Virginia. She studied music
in Boston. The last time she sang in New York was when Mr.
Fred Douglass lectured at Cooper Union. She is living at the Hotel
Venus, in West Seventeenth Street. She talks well, though [she
is] inclined to be a bit diffident.
After a brief intermission at ten o'clock there was "buck" danc¬
ing, a "buzzard lope dance," more jubilee and more of Levy's
Band. Then came the inevitable skirt dance, with colored perform¬
ers, after which the "Black Patti" sang again, her selections being
a farfalla, "Valse Chantee" and the song "Sempre Libera" from
Verdi's Traviata.
Then came the cake walk, in which there were about fifty
140 WOMEN IN MUSIC

very earnest and irresistibly comical contestants. They were still

walking after midnight and no one had taken the cake.
The same program will be given at the Garden tonight and
to-morrow night.

27 June 1893, New York Times

LECTURED THE BLACK PATTI

Judge Me Adam Says She is Ungrateful to Major Pond—

Must Sing for Him Alone

Sissieretta Jones, the "Black Patti," got a severe lecture yesterday

from Judge McAdam of the Superior Court on the evils of ingrati¬
tude. Incidentally, she was enjoined from singing under any other
management than that of Major James B. Pond.
On June 8, 1892, the Major made a contract with the "Black
Patti" for a year. He was to pay her $150 per week, furnish all
accommodations for her, and pay all traveling expenses. Some
time ago the Major and his colored star disagreed, and they have
been contending in the courts for several months over a clause
in the contract which gave the manager the privilege of re-engaging
the singer for an additional two years under the same terms pro¬
vided for the first year's work.
The "Black Patti" wanted to engage in business for herself,
and Major Pond applied to Judge McAdam for an injunction. In
granting the motion, the court said yesterday of Sissieretta:
"She feels now as if she could get along without her benefactor,
and she has thrown down the ladder on which she ascended
to the position she now enjoys. Every sense of gratitude re¬
quires her to be loyal to the Manager who furnished her with the
opportunity for greatness, and every principle of equity re¬
quires her to perform her engagements according to the spirit
and intent of the contract. Talent is of litle value without op¬
portunity, and history records on its brightest pages the names
of many who would have died in obscurity but for opportu¬
nity."
1820-1920 141

21 October 1893, Cleveland Gazette

WORLD'S FAIR MUSIC

On September 25 it was advertised through the World's Fair

grounds that the "Black Patti" would sing in the Woman's Build¬
ing in the afternoon. One hour before the time of her appearance
the large building was literally packed, so eager were both Ameri¬
can and foreigner to hear the famous singer. Nor were their expec¬
tations disappointed, if we may judge from the ovation which
followed her song, "Ocean, Thou Mighty Monster." Public opin¬
ion, in accord with the best musical criticism, proclaims her the
greatest coming singer. She draws her selections from every source,
but her favorite seems to be "Fleur des Alps,"2 although she sings
with good effect "Robert le Diable," both songs being well adapted
to bring out the quality and phenomenal range of her voice. When
compared with Selika,3 the tones of her upper register are thinner,
but this defect is entirely compensated for by the fuller and deeper
tones of the lower. Madame Jones's voice is always musical; there
is present, too, that spirit, that musical taste and insight, that is
found only in the born artist. One hears such mellow, sweet,
rich tones that while she sings, he sits enraptured and as the
last tone dies away involuntarily bursts out into applause. She
has pleased us often by responding to encores with "Swanee
River." May she ever honor that most soulful American folk song.

14 May 1898, The Colored American (Washington, D.C.)

BLACK PATTI'S TROUBADOURS

Black Patti (Mme. Sissieretta Jones), who for several years past
has won the highest lyric honors on the concert stage, and who
is endowed with a marvelous voice, sweet in quality and of exten¬
sive range, has abandoned the concert stage in favor of comedy,
vaudeville and opera. This great singer is the star of "The Black

2. J.-B. T. Weckerlin.
3. Maria Selika (1849- ?), another black soprano, had appeared earlier in the
summer at the exposition.
142 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Patti's Troubadours," an organization comprising fifty celebrated

artists and which is said to be the most imposing aggregation of
colored performers ever organized. The stage entertainment of¬
fered by this company is attractive, sensational and novel. It em¬
braces comedy, burlesque, ballet, vaudeville and opera presented
with appropriate scenery, elegant and costly costumes and ail the
necessary stage surroundings requisite for a perfect and artistic
performance.
"At Jolly Coney Island" is the title of a merry and laugh-provok¬
ing skit which serves as a curtain raiser and vehicle to give free
rein to the company's comedy and singing forces. This travesty
is followed by a great vaudeville olio and selections from the
various standard grand and comic operas. In the operatic olio
Black Patti has great opportunities to display her wonderful voice.
She sustains the principal roles of The Grand Duchess, Carmen,
Bohemian Girl, Trovatore, Lucia, Maritana, Tar and Tartar, and
The Daughter of the Regiment.4 The rendition which she and
the entire company give of this repertorical opera selections is
said to be incomparably grand. Not only is the solo singing of
the highest order, but the choruses are rendered with a spirit
and musical finish which never fail to excite genuine enthusiasm.
The work of Black Patti and the company has received the highest
marks of public approval, and the forthcoming performances here
will doubtless be highly appreciated. The Troubadours will be
at the Grand Opera House for one week, beginning Monday eve¬
ning, May 16.

4. Offenbach, The Grand Duchess of Geroldstein; Balfe, Bohemian Girl;

W. V. Wallace, Maritana. The composer of Tar and Tartar could not be deter¬
mined.
Four Composers

22 FANNY MENDELSSOHN HENSEL

Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel (1805-47) was a major talent

destined for composition, but societal and familial restrictions
curbed her full development. With her younger brother Felix
(1809-47) and two still younger siblings, Rebecca and Paul,
she enjoyed a privileged childhood and a broad education with
the best of private tutors in Berlin. Fanny's musical gifts were
quite as prodigious as Felix's, and into adolescence they pursued
piano and composition together. But whereas a career in music
was carefully planned by his parents for Felix, Fanny was condi¬
tioned to think of her future as being that of a homemaker.
Some of Fanny's early songs appeared under Felix's name, since
the family did not think it appropriate for Fanny to publish.* 1
Selected correspondence by various members of the Mendelssohn
family and entries from Fanny's diary provide insight into her
situation.

Abraham Mendelssohn to his daughter Fanny:

Paris, July 16, 1820

Your last songs are at Viry,2 where I shall fetch them tomorrow,
and then I must find some one who will sing them decently to
me. M. Leo has played me Felix's last fugue, very imperfectly.
He pronounces it very good and in the true style, but difficult.
I liked it well; it is a great thing. I should not have expected

Sebastian Hensel, The Mendelssohn Family (1792-1847), trans. Carl Klinge-

mann, 2 vols. (New York: Harper Brothers, 1881), 1:82-84; 2:31, 101, 103, 108-
9, 334.
1. "Heimweh," "Italien," and "Suleika und Hatem,” in Felix's op. 8, and "Sehn-
sucht," "Verlust," and "Die Nonne," in his op. 9 were written by Fanny.
2. A village outside Paris. Abraham was in Paris on business.
144 WOMEN IN MUSIC

him to set to work in such good earnest so soon, for such a

fugue requires reflection and perseverance. What you wrote to
me about your musical occupations with reference to and in com¬
parison with Felix was both rightly thought and expressed. Music
will perhaps become his profession, whilst for you it can and
must only be an ornament, never the root of your being and
doing. We may therefore pardon him some ambition and desire
to be acknowledged in a pursuit which appears very important
to him, because he feels a vocation for it, whilst it does you
credit that you have always shown yourself good and sensible
in these matters,- and your very joy at the praise he earns proves
that you might, in his place, have merited equal approval. Remain
true to these sentiments and to this line of conduct; they are
feminine, and only what is truly feminine is an ornament to
your sex.

Tuesday [July 18]

They went over your Romances yesterday at Viry, and you
will be glad to hear that Fanny Sebastiani sang 'Les soins de mon
troupeau' very nicely and correctly, and likes them much. I con¬
fess that I prefer that song to all the others—so far as I can judge
of them, for they were only very imperfectly performed. It is
bright, and has an easy, natural flow, which most of the others
have not, some of them are too ambitious for the words. But
that one song I like so much that since yesterday I have often
sung it to myself, whilst I remember nothing of the others; and
I think facility one of the most important qualities of a song.
At the same time it is far from trivial, and the passage 'si j'ai
trouve pour eux une fontaine claire' is even very felicitous,- only
it appears to me to give too decided an end to the lines immediately
following the words 's'ils sont heureux.' I strongly advise you
to keep as much as possible to this lightness and naturalness in
your future compositions.
Mother wrote to me the other day that you had complained
of a want of pieces for the exercise of the third and fourth finger,
and that Felix had thereupon directly composed one for you.
Madame [Marie] Bigot thinks that if those fingers do not get
1820-1920
145

Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel.

146 WOMEN IN MUSIC

on like the others, the true reason is not a want of exercises,

but of exercise, of real, earnest practice. She says that you ought
to spend a part of your practising time every day in observing
quite mechanically the movement of those fingers, without regard
to music or expression, and that [J. B.] Cramer has composed a
number of pieces calculated to strengthen them, these have to
be played again and again, slowly and with constant attention
to a firm motion of the two weak ones. She says that in this
way and by indefatigable patience she has succeeded in making
all her fingers equally strong, and that this is the only way. I
hope you will consider this advice.

[November 14, 1828, Fanny's twenty-third birthday]

Every year makes us both 365 days older. Who knows how
often I may yet congratulate you on your birthday, and speak a
serious word to you? or how long you may be able and willing
to hear it?
1 will, then, tell you to-day, dear Fanny, that in all essential
points, all that is most important, I am so much satisfied with
you that I have no wish left. You are good in heart and mind.
'Good' is a small word, but has a big meaning, and I would not
apply it to everybody.
However, you must still improve! You must become more
steady and collected, and prepare more earnestly and eagerly for
your real calling, the only calling of a young woman—I mean
the state of a housewife. True economy is true liberality. He
who throws away money must become either a miser or an impo¬
stor. Women have a difficult task, the constant occupation with
apparent trifles, the interception of each drop of rain, that it may
not evaporate, but be conducted into the right channel, and spread
wealth and blessing; the unremitting attention to every detail,
the appreciation of every moment and its improvement for some
benefit or other—all these and more (you will think of many
more) are the weighty duties of a woman.
Indeed you want neither mind nor sense to fulfil them faith¬
fully, and yet there is ample scope left for constant endeavour
to strengthen your will, to collect your thoughts, and arrive at
1820-1920 147

a right choice and appreciation of your occupations. Do this as

long as you can freely, and before you are compelled. Whilst
Providence still allows you to live with your parents, try to do
many things better than they do. Give a solid foundation to the
building, and there will be no want of ornaments.
But I won't preach, and am not old enough to prate. Accept
once more my fatherly wishes, and take my well-meant advice
to heart.
Your Father

When Fanny married Wilhelm Hensel, a painter, in 1829,

at the age of twenty-four, Felix had already launched a brilliant
career as a composer and conductor. Fanny followed her brother's
triumphs closely, and surely somewhat vicariously, while devot¬
ing her own life to music "at home." Her activity centered on
the Sunday musicales she organized at the Mendelssohn family
estate in Berlin. These were distinguished at the time for intro¬
ducing music of the highest caliber. Fanny participated in the
programs as a pianist and the conductor of a choral group that
she rehearsed each week, and often she included a composition
of her own, as she continued to compose, chiefly for voice and
piano. Nonetheless, the isolation she experienced at some times
must have been overwhelming.

Fanny to her friend Carl Klingemann in London:

Berlin, 15 July 1836

I enclose two pianoforte-pieces, which I have written since I
came home from Diisseldorf. I leave it to you to say whether
they are worth presenting to my unknown young friend, but I
must add that it is a pleasure to me to find a public for my
little pieces in London, for here I have none at all. Once a year,
perhaps, some one will copy a piece of mine, or ask me to play
something special—certainly not oftener; and now that Rebecca
has left off singing, my songs lie unheeded and unknown. If no¬
body ever offers an opinion, or takes the slightest interest in
one's productions, one loses in time not only all pleasure in them,
148 WOMEN IN MUSIC

but all power of judging their value. Felix, who is alone a sufficient
public for me, is so seldom here than he cannot help me much,
and thus 1 am thrown back on myself. But my own delight in
music and Hensel's sympathy keep me awake still, and I cannot
help considering it a sign of talent that I do not give it up, though
I can get nobody to take an interest in my efforts. But enough
of this uninteresting topic.

Early in 1837 a single song of Fanny's appeared in a collection,

and Felix, who had argued against its publication, thanked Fanny
for going against his wishes. He was, however, opposed to her
undertaking any further publication, and for the time being
Fanny acquiesced. In 1838 Fanny performed in public for the
first time, playing Felix's piano concerto no. 1 in G minor, op.
25. She was thirty-three years old.

Felix to his mother Leah:*

Frankfurt, June 2, 1837

You write to me about Fanny's new compositions, and say that
I ought to persuade her to publish them. Your praise is, however,
quite unnecessary to make me heartily rejoice in them, or think
them charming and admirable; for I know by whom they are
written. I hope, too, I need not say that, if she does resolve to
publish anything, I will do all in my power to obtain every facility
for her, and to relieve her, so far as I can, from all trouble which
can possibly be spared her. But to persuade her to publish any¬
thing I cannot, because this is contrary to my views and to my
convictions. We have often formerly discussed the subject, and
I still remain exactly of the same opinion. I consider the publica¬
tion of a work as a serious matter (at least it ought to be so),
for I maintain that no one should publish unless they are resolved
to appear as an author for the rest of their life. For this purpose,
however, a succession of works is indispensable, one after an¬
other. Nothing but annoyance is to be looked for from publishing,

* Letters of Felix Mendelssohn, ed. Paul Mendelssohn-Bartholdy and Carl Men¬

delssohn, trans. Lady Wallace (Philadelphia: Frederick Leypoldt, 1894), pp. 113—
14.
1820-1920 149

where one or two works alone are in question; or it becomes

what is called a "manuscript for private circulation/' which I
also dislike,- and from my knowledge of Fanny I should say she
has neither inclination nor vocation for authorship. She is too
much all that a woman ought to be for this. She regulates her
house, and neither thinks of the public nor of the musical world,
nor even of music at all, until her first duties are fulfilled. Publish¬
ing would only disturb her in these, and I cannot say that I approve
of it. I will not, therefore, persuade her to this step: forgive me
for saying so. If she resolves to publish, either from her own
impulse or to please Hensel, I am, as I said before, quite ready
to assist her so far as I can; but to encourage her in what I do
not consider right, is what I cannot do.

The highlight of Fanny's career was her trip to Italy in 1839-

40 with her husband and their young son Sebastian. After visit¬
ing Milan, Venice, and Florence, the Hensels settled in Rome
for the winter and spring months.

Fanny in her diary:

Rome, Thursday, 23 April 1840

In the evening some people dropped in, and I played much
to dissipate the dullness profusely distributed by some English
ladies. After they had left I began again de plus belle, and played
until midnight. [Georges] Bousquet and [Charles] Dugasseau
make my task rather difficult, for they never forget a single thing
I have played, even though it be months ago. A more improving
audience would be hard to find. I also compose a great deal now,
for nothing inspires me like praise, whilst censure discourages
and depresses me. Gounod3 is such an enthusiast in music as I
have seldom seen. Fie likes my little Venetian piece very much,
as well as the one in B minor that I have composed here, also
Felix's duet and Capriccio in A minor [op. 33, no. 1], but above
all Bach's concerto, which I have had to play to him at least
ten times.
3. Gounod won the Prix de Rome in 1839 and was in residence at the French
Academy. Bousquet was also a musician, Dugasseau a painter.
150 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Sunday, the 26th

I went in the early morning with Wilhelm to the garden of
the [French] Academy, and it was so beautiful. On Saturday eve¬
ning we had a long debate, which lasted so far into the night,
as to whether we had not better prolong our stay here through
next winter,- but in the morning good sense and sound arguments
prevailed. While walking in the Villa gardens we decided to reward
ourselves by staying at least till the end of May, like the famous
drunkard, who, after having safely passed three gin-shops, treated
his resolution in the fourth. It will cost us both a hard struggle
to leave Rome. I could not have believed that it would have
made such a deep impression on me. I must not conceal from
myself that the atmosphere of admiration and homage in which
I have lived may have something to do with it, for even when
quite young I never was made so much of as I have been here,
and that this is very pleasant nobody can deny. Everything com¬
bines to attach me to Rome, and how good it would be for my
Wilhelm and his work! But it will not do, so we have made up
our minds.

Fanny to her sister Rebecca:

Rome [undated]
I have been composing a good deal lately, and have called my
piano pieces after the names of my favorite haunts, partly because
they really came into my mind at these spots, partly because
our pleasant excursions were in my mind while I was writing
them. They will form a delightful souvenir, a kind of second
diary. But do not imagine that I give these names when playing
them in society, they are for home use entirely.

Fanny to the family at large in Germany:

[May]
Yesterday evening our performance—Bach's triple concerto—
came off capitally before a brilliant assembly at Landsberg's,4 and
4. Landsberg was a former violinist, whom Fanny had known earlier in Berlin.
1 8 2 0- 1 9 20 151

was received with much applause. I believe I told you that I

was practicing it with Charlotte Thygeson and a clever lady ama¬
teur here. Yesterday I could scarcely suppress my delight at finding
myself playing this grand piece in Rome, and thus gaining friends
and admirers for our old master. I am entitled to claim part of
the credit for myself, for it is not everybody who could have
made them understand and feel it. My thoughts when playing
[Johann Nepomuk] Hummel's quintet beforehand were very dif¬
ferent, for I don't think I have ever played it since I was studying
with [Carl Friedrich] Zelter. For the concerto Landsberg placed
in a row three superb grand pianos by the same manufacturer,
which he had just gotten back from the Inglesi. They occupied
the whole side of the room, and looked very imposing. The room
was very full and very hot, but the evening was most enjoyable.

In 1846 the bids of two rival publishers in Berlin spurred

Fanny to publish a small number of what she considered to
be her best works: two books of solo songs, a variety of piano
compositions, and a book of part songs, the latter no doubt
written for her choral group. This recognition encouraged her
to write a work of larger scale, her piano trio in D minor, op.
11, which was first performed at a musicale in April 1847. Fanny
Mendelssohn Hensel's last diary entries reflect her happiness
and suggest that she would have gone on to further achieve¬
ments. She was stricken suddenly during a choral rehearsal on
May 14 and died later that night. Felix was shattered by the
news of Fanny's death, and he survived her by less than six
months.

Fanny in her diary:

[Berlin, 1847]
Yesterday the first breath of spring was in the air. It has been
a long winter, with much frost and snow, universal dearth and
distress, indeed a winter full of suffering. What have we done
to deserve being among the few happy ones of the world? My
152 WOMEN IN MUSIC

inmost heart is at any rate full of thankfulness, and when in

the morning after breakfasting with Wilhelm we each go to our
own work, with a pleasant day to look back upon and another
to look forward to, I am quite overcome with my own happiness.
23 CLARA SCHUMANN

In her December 21 letter of 1837 to Robert in Reading

17, Clara Schumann refers disparagingly to her youthful piano
concerto in A minor, op. 7, and although she continued to com¬
pose well into her adult years, she always had ambivalent feel¬
ings about her creative work. Her training for composition was
excellent, and she was encouraged to compose by both her father
and her husband. Her music—chiefly piano works and songs—
was published, performed, and reviewed favorably during her
lifetime.* 1 Yet, the constant example of Robert's work caused
her to disparage her own. She knew her strengths as a performer,
and as excerpts from her correspondence and diaries here indi¬
cate, she fell back on the convention that women lacked in
creative powers. With the exception of one work, Clara ceased
to compose after Robert's death, presumably because of her hec¬
tic performing schedule.

Clara to Robert, 1839:

23 April [Paris]
You ask me if I am not composing anything, I have written
one quite tiny piece, but I do not know what I shall call it. I
have a particular adversion to showing you anything that I have
composed, I am always ashamed.

Berthold Litzmann, Clara Schumann: An Artist’s Life Based on Material Found in Dia¬
ries and Letters, trans. Grace E. Hadow, 2 vols. (London: Macmillan, 1913), 1:241-44,
259, 318-19, 410. Reprinted by permission of Macmillan, London and Basingstoke.
1. Nancy B. Reich, "Clara Schumann," in Women Making Music: The Western Art
Tradition, 1150-1950, ed. Jane Bowers and Judith Tick (Urbana: University of Illinois
Press, 1986), pp. 266-68.
154 WOMEN IN MUSIC

May
I have received the Idyll [from the Three Romances for piano,
op. 11], and thank you for it my dear,- but I am sure you will
forgive me if I tell you that there are some things in it which I
do not like. . . . The end, which I liked best, you have completely
altered, and yet it impressed everyone to whom I played it. . . .
You are not angry with me, are you?

15 July
It is a sin to have composed nothing for such a long time.
Father is very annoyed, and I too am unhappy about it, but I
am altogether more dissatisfied with myself than I can say.

Clara in her diary, November 1839:

[Leipzig]
I once thought that I possessed creative talent, but I have given
up this idea, a woman must not desire to compose—not one has
been able to do it, and why should I expect to? It would be
arrogance, though indeed, my father led me into it in earlier
days.

Robert in the joint diary, February 1843:

[Leipzig]
Clara has written a number of smaller pieces, which show a
musicianship and a tenderness of invention such as she has never
before attained. But children, and a husband who is always living
in the realms of imagination, do not go well with composition.
She cannot work at it regularly, and I am often disturbed to think
how many tender ideas are lost because she cannot work them
out.

Clara in her diary, regarding her piano trio in G minor, op.

17:

2 October 1846 [Dresden]

There is nothing greater than the joy of composing something
oneself, and then listening to it. There are some pretty passages
1820-1920 155

in the trio, and I think it is fairly successful as far as form goes.

. . . Of course, it is only a woman's work, which is always lacking
in force, and here and there in invention.

18 November
This evening I played Robert's piano quartet and my trio, which
seems to me more harmless each time I play it.

September 1847
I received the printed copies of my trio today,- but I did not
care for it particularly, after Robert's D minor [no. 1, op. 63],
it sounded effeminate and sentimental.
24 ETHEL SMYTH

Unlike Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel and Clara Schumann,

who were horn into musical families, Ethel Smyth (1858-1944)
had to wage a veritable battle to gain her parents' approval
and financial support for her education in music and in turn
her aspirations as a composer. Smyth grew up at Frimhurst in
Frimley, a village southwest of London and near her father's
artillery command at Aldershot. Her mother sang and played
the piano, but it was only at the age of twelve that Smyth
was introduced to art music by a governess who had studied
at the Leipzig Conservatory. Shortly thereafter Smyth began
playing the early Beethoven piano sonatas and making plans
to study in Leipzig herself, Leipzig being the goal of many English
music students at the time because of the popularity of Felix
Mendelssohn, the conservatory's founder, in England.
At age seventeen Smyth undertook what proved to be a short
term of study with a local musician, Alexander Ewing, in har¬
mony, composition, and repertory. Her father did not approve
of Ewing and soon terminated the lessons. The following narra¬
tive begins when Smyth was eighteen.

Occasionally, though very rarely, I went to a concert in London,

being met at Waterloo and convoyed to St. James's Hall by some
approved friend, or perhaps by Aunt Susan's maid, and on one
occasion was actually presented to Frau [Clara] Schumann and
her daughters. This great event was engineered by a friend of
mine, Mrs. George Schwabe, of whom more will be related pres¬
ently, whose mother-in-law—another personality who will reap-

Ethel Smyth, Impressions That Remained (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1946), pp. 108-12,
188-91, 211-12. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
1820-1920 157

pear in these pages—was an old friend of Frau Schumann's. The

extraordinary thing is that in the wealth of impressions I was
to gain in after life of that wonderful woman, all recollections
of our first meeting have faded, but I gather from a remark in
one of Mr. Ewing's letters that she gave my musical aspirations
her blessing. She could do no less!
Soon after I struck what may rank as a half-milestone in my
journey; for the first time I heard Brahms. The occasion was a
Saturday Popular Concert at which the Liebeslieder Walzer [op.
52] were sung by four persons, three of whom (the Germans)
knew the composer personally and afterwards became factors in
my life. They were Frauleins [Thekla] Friedlander and [Louise]
Redeker, Mr. Shakespere, and George Ffenschel. That day I saw
the whole Brahms; other bigger and, to use the language of pe¬
dants, more important works of his were to kindle fresh fires
later on, but his genius possessed me then and there in a flash.
I went home with a definite resolution in my heart. . . .
That night there was a discussion at dinner as to which drawing¬
room I had better be presented at. Suddenly I announced it was
useless to present me at all, since I intended to go to Leipzig,
even if I had to run away from home, and starve when I got
there. . . .
I almost despair of anyone believing today, so quickly has the
world moved since then, what such a step stood for in my father's
mind. We knew no artists, and to him the word simply meant
people who are out to break the Ten Commandments. It is no
exaggeration to say that the life I proposed to lead seemed to
him equivalent to going on the streets; hence the strange phrase
he hurled at me, harking back in his fury to the language of
Webster's or Congreve's outraged fathers: "I would sooner see
you under the sod."
After a period of vain efforts to overcome his resistance, which
became so terrific that it was no longer possible to broach the
subject at all, I quite deliberately adopted the methods used
years afterwards in political warfare by other women, who, having
plumbed the depths of masculine prejudice, came to see this was
the only road to victory. I not only unfurled the red flag, but
158 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Ethel Smyth at the Piano and Singing, John Singer Sargent, 1901.
1820-1920 159

determined to make life at home so intolerable that they would

have to let me go for their own sakes. (I say "they," but here
again I felt that, whatever my mother might say in public, she
was secretly with me.) In those days no decent girls travelled
alone, third class and omnibuses were things unheard of in our
world, and I had no money, but I would slip away across the
fields to Farnborough Station, travel third to London, and proceed
by omnibus to any concert I fancied. The money difficulty was
met by borrowing five shillings from tradesmen we dealt with on
the Green, or the postman, "to be put down to the General." In
order to be close to [Joseph] Joachim and his companions I would
stand for hours in the queue at St. James's Hall, and ah! the
revelation of hearing Schubert's A Minor Quartet [D. 804]! . . .
All my life his music has been perhaps nearer to my heart than
any other—that crystal stream welling and welling for ever. . . .

From my place I used to watch George Eliot and her husband

sitting together in the stalls like two elderly love-birds, and was
irritated by Lewes's habit of beating time on her arm with his
pince-nez. There is a well-known syncopated passage in Beetho¬
ven's Quartet [in A Minor], Op. 132, and I noted with scornful
amusement how the eyeglass, after a moment of hesitation, would
begin marking the wrong beat, again hover uncertainly, and pres¬
ently resume the right one with triumphant emphasis as if nothing
had happened. All this George Eliot took as calmly as if she were
the Sphinx, and Lewes an Arab brushing flies off her massive
flanks.
The greatest excitement was one day when with beating heart
I forced my way past Mr. [S. Arthur] Chappell's Cerberus into
the artists' room—a place more sacredly awful to me than the
Floly of Flolies can ever have been to a young Levite—and made
the acquaintance of Frauleins Friedlander and Redeker, expressed
to them my admiration of their singing, and fell madly in love
with Redeker, whose rendering of that divine love-song: "Wie bist
du, meine Konigin" had all but torn the heart out of my body.1

1. Brahms, op. 32, no. 9.

160 WOMEN IN MUSIC

They were goodnaturedly touched by such enthusiasm and begged

me to come and see them some morning, which I did, climbing
up stairs upon stairs to the room they shared. It was at eleven
A.M., they were in deshabille, the beds unmade, and they were
sipping port out of an egg-cup. This unaccustomed sight gave
me rather a shock, and for a moment I thought of my father,
but supposed it was just part of the artist life, and indeed a few
months later such a spectacle would have made no more impres¬
sion on me than did Mr. Lewes's eyeglass on George Eliot.
My financial arrangements with the tradesmen came out of
course, as they were meant to, and to my father's ragings I stub¬
bornly replied: "You won't let me go to Leipzig so of course I
have to go to London to hear music." From this moment he became
convinced that, freed from control, I should squander money
right and left, and one of the stock phrases was: "We shall have
to sell your mother's diamonds"—a calamity that ranked in our
minds with expedients such as debasing the coinage. But in this
phrase 1 thought I saw a weakening of will; he was actually consid¬
ering possible consequences of surrender! . . .
I had a few friends who backed me up more or less openly
and were consequently looked on with disfavour at home. To
this rule Barbara Hamley, now Lady Ernie, proved an exception,
contriving in a miraculous manner to be my friend and yet keep
on excellent terms with the parents, who delighted in her. She
effected this miracle by a blend of tact, reasonableness, and sense
of humour that must have oiled many locks in her course through
life; moreover, but for her sympathy with the Frimhurst rebel,
she was a perfectly normal, model young lady, who kept house
with great success for her adored and adoring uncle Sir Edward
Hamley, then Commandant of the Staff College (one of whose
sympathetic traits was a great admiration for my mother). Thus
she was in a favourable situation for operations, and her champion¬
ship of me included a useful element—full comprehension of
my father's point of view.
Not so that of Mrs. George Schwabe, daughter of Lord Justice
James, a clever, hard-riding, whist-playing, particularly cherished
friend of mine, who as radical, and one justly suspected of unor-
1820-1920 161

thodox views on religion, naturally considered this opposition

to my German plans ridiculous and out of date. So too did Mrs.
Napier, wife of her first cousin General William Napier (the histo¬
rian's son), who was then in command—or rather Mrs. Napier
was in command—at Sandhurst. This delightful champion of mine
had rebel blood in her own veins, her father, fierce eagle-eyed
Sir Charles Napier, whom his daughter was as like as two peas,
having eloped with her mother, a Greek. It goes without saying
that these two friends of mine were constant subjects of strife,
and if my mother, jealous by nature, was especially so in these
cases, who can wonder? It was all very well for Mrs. Napier to
say right and left: "Of course dear little Ethel must go to Leipzig"—
to say it even to my parents themselves, which she did, for she
came of a fearless stock. She was not my mother, she had not
to endure daily scenes with my father—scenes which became
more frequent and furious as time went on. For towards the end
I struck altogether, refused to go to church, refused to sing at
our dinner-parties, refused to go out riding, refused to speak to
anyone, and one day my father's boot all but penetrated a panel
of my locked bedroom door! . . .

There was nothing for it but to capitulate! Fraulein Friedlander

was able, by some miracle, to produce adequate testimony to the
respectability of her aunt, Frau Professor Heimbach, who lived
at Leipzig and would certainly be willing to take me under her
wing till her very own mother had a room at my disposal; the
terms suggested confirmed Mary Schwabe's reports as to the cheap¬
ness of life in Germany, my father named the maximum of allow¬
ance he could make me; it was pronounced to be sufficient, with
care,- and finally, on July 26, 1877, under the charge of Harry
Davidson, who knew Germany well, I was packed off, on trial
and in deep disgrace, but too madly happy to mind about that,
to the haven of my seven years' longing.

Commenting on the headiness of her early correspondence

from Germany, Smyth many years later noted: "It must he re¬
membered that those at home were waiting to hear whether
162 WOMEN IN MUSIC

my claim to having a vocation was illusory or not, so no wonder

l nearly went off my head with joy at the encouragement 1
met with, and eagerly reported it. "2 Three early letters from
Smyth to her mother are included below. The first two describe
her experiences during a brief holiday she took after arriving
in Leipzig with Thekla Friedlander and other musicians in Fried-
lander's circle. The third was written near the end of Smyth's
year at the Leipzig Conservatory.
She found the conservatory "trading on its Mendelssohnian
reputation,"3 and she therefore left to continue her studies in
composition privately with Heinrich von Herzogenberg for a
number of years. The glorious aspect of Leipzig, for Smyth, was
the concert and operatic life, through which she absorbed much
music that was new to her.

Friedrichsroda: August 12, 1877

. . . Henschel is only 27, but he is gradually making a name
for himself, and musicians take on an average 40 years to do
this. One day when I was out of the room Thekla told him I
composed, and on my return he asked me (as he afterwards con¬
fessed as a matter of politeness and with no expectations) to see
something I had done. I produced a song—we have no piano,
but of course he reads it through like a book. Mother! he said
such things of my talent! Things 1 never even dreamed of. He
said it was simply wonderful, and could not believe I had had
no tuition. Of course he found faults, and afterwards told a friend
of his whom I know that they were faults arising from talent.
In the afternoon we went to the von Mildes.4 He is the first
man in the Berlin Opera, now old, but a great musician with a
voice like a god, and his wife is also very musical. Of course
Henschel was there and several other musicians, and I was asked
to sing some things of mine. Mother! I wish you had been there.
They were astonished, they all came round and said it was "merk-
wiirdig, wundervoll," and all the afternoon, when Henschel was

2. Impressions That Remained, p. 183.

3. Ibid., p. 145.
4. Hans Feodor and Rose Agthe von Mildes, both singers.
1820-1920 163

strumming, as he only can strum, between the songs, he kept

on coming back to the modulation at "Schweig' still, mein Herz"
in "Rohtraut"5 which pleased him hugely. Afterwards, when we
were all supping, our host proposed the health of the artists and
coupled with it the name of "one who has but lately come among
us and whom we hope to keep," and once again I was feted,
and oh I wish you had been there! The bliss of knowing that
when I went on so about cultivating my talent I was not wrong!
For though 1 felt it myself, I sometimes doubted whether it was
only for a woman, and an Englishwoman living in a not musical
circle, that I was anything particular in music—whether such
talent as I have deserved to have everything else put aside for
it. And now I know it does deserve it! The greatest musical genius
I know has seen my work and so to speak has given it his blessing,
and it is well with me . . . !
Don't think, mother darling, that this makes me lose my head,
that I fancy I have only to put pen to paper and become famous.
It is just this: men who have lived among musicians all their
lives, who have been hand in glove with Schumann and Mendels¬
sohn, and are so with Brahms and [Anton] Rubinstein, say they
seldom saw such talent, in a woman never, and I can but tell
you all this. I know though that years and years, perhaps, of
hard work are before me, years in which little or nothing I do
shall be printed—this I have resolved on—and in which I shall
be nobody, and at the end of which is perhaps a laurel crown
awaiting me in the shape of a name! But the end is worth the
uphill struggle, and if application and hard steady work can do
anything I ought to get it.
I go up every day into the mountain and compose. Then to
the von Mildes I go a good deal, and am very welcome I think—
so it seems! Then we go up to the meadows and play croquet,
and then up to where Henschel lives and sing, sing, sing! Oh,
those three! Thekla is not in good voice, but Meine Koenigin,

5. "Schon Rohtraut" is no. 5 in Smyth's Lieder und Balladen, op. 3, published

in Leipzig ca. 1886. See Kathleen Dale, "Ethel Smyth's Music: A Critical Study,"
in Christopher St. John, Ethel Smyth: A Biography (London: Longmans, 1974),
p. 304.
164 WOMEN IN MUSIC

alias Fraeulein Redeker, is in first-rate voice, and the music we

have simply defies description. She is at this moment wandering
about in a pink dressing-gown singing Scenas out of an opera
of Rubinstein's, and it is rather distracting.

Do you know she sings from I !

It [Redeker's] is a glorious voice and won't be kept in. She

is literally bubbling over with singing. Yesterday all four of them
sang for a charity in the church, but I never do care for sacred
music except, oh! I must except, the bass duet, "The Lord is a
Man of War," which is certainly a grand thing. Henschel sang
it with [Charles] Santley at the Handel Festival.6 . . .
Please send on my accounts to Papa! My German gets on Al,
1 always speak it, even to the Scotch girls. . . .

Friedrichsroda: August 19
. . . Fancy, staying in the house with Henschel is your old Wild-
bad friend, Herr von Roumanim, he raves about Mary! He is a
pleasant man and bade me remember him most kindly and respect¬
fully to my Frau Mutter and Fraeulein Schwester! Also I was to
tell you that now he wears his hair long, not like a tooth-brush,
as when you knew him.
I have had several talks with Henschel about my music and
am most awfully happy about it. He thinks more of my talent
than ever I did! and has written about me to Brahms with whom
he was almost brought up, and to Simrock, the publisher. It is
so glorious to be told by competent persons that one's future
lies in one's own hands, that the material for realising hopes I
hardly ever—I think never—breathed at home even, is there,- and
I have but to work hard and steadily and then not be too soon
pleased with myself. Every day I become more and more con-

6. From Israel in Egypt.

1820-1920 165

vinced of the truth of my old axiom, that why no women have

become composers is because they have married, and then, very
properly, made their husbands and children the first consider¬
ation. So even if I were to fall desperately in love with BRAHMS
and he were to propose to me, I should say no! So fear not that
I shall marry in Germany! I told Henschel my opinion, and he
said perhaps I was right, but as he himself has, I am told, an
"ungluckliche Liebe"7 on hand, I don't think he is a judge! He
is so good to me, corrects my songs for me (I have composed
lots more), sets me basses on which to construct chorales and
all sorts of things; and yet I know if I were Henschel it would
be a great pleasure to me to get hold of a new pupil to give a
friendly shove-on to during a three weeks' do-nothing stay in a
little primitive town. ... I am, as always, very, very happy and
oh so well. . . .

April, 1878
. . . Just imagine what a goose I am. I went to Breitkopf and
Hartel—the music publishers par excellence in the world. The
nephew, who conducts the business, Dr. Hase, I know very well
and he is quite one of the most charming men I ever met. But
you know how unpleasant it is to do business with a personal
friend! Well, he began by telling me that songs had as a rule a
bad sale—but that no composeress had ever succeeded, barring
Frau Schumann and Fraulein Mendelssohn, whose songs had been
published together with those of their husband and brother respec¬
tively. He told me that a certain Frau Lang had written some
really very good songs, but they had no sale.8 I played him mine,
many of which he had already heard me perform in various Leipzig
houses, and he expressed himself very willing to take the risk
and print them. But would you believe it, having listened to all
he said about women composers, and considering how difficult

7. Unfortunate attachment.
8. Josephine Lang (1815-80) wrote 140 lieder, a good number of which were
published during her lifetime. These may or may not have sold well, as was
reported to Smyth. In 1882, however, Breitkopf and Hartel published a retro¬
spective Liederbuch for Lang in two volumes, containing 40 songs.
166 WOMEN IN MUSIC

it is to bargain with an acquaintance, I asked no fee!9 Did you

ever hear of such a donkey! I should have asked £2 10s., which
would have dissolved one of the dressmaker's bills! So if, Mother
darling, after all 1 have to come down on you for that bill (which
I still hope not to do!) please consider it the price of my mod¬
esty! . . .
25 LUISE ADOLPHA LE BEAU

The German composer Luise Adolpha le Beau (1850-

1927) was regarded by the major critics of her time as the first
woman to compose large-scale vocal and orchestral works suc¬
cessfully, beginning in the 1880s,* 1 and although this evaluation
is historically inaccurate, it attests to her stature among her
contemporaries. Even still, Le Beau constantly battled skepti¬
cism about her capabilities. Together with her parents, who
contributed to her support throughout their lifetimes and en¬
couraged her work in every way, Le Beau lived in a succession
of German cities, in search of a congenial home base where
she could obtain performances of her works and concertize as
a pianist. Typically, however, she was regarded as an outsider.
Le Beau wrote sixty-six works, of which thirty-five were pub¬
lished, and she was active also as a music critic and an educator,
in which latter role she championed equal opportunities for
female students in all aspects of music.
As she approached age sixty, Le Beau began her autobiography,
in fulfillment of her father's wish that she should speak out
about the obstacles confronting a woman in composition. The
episode excerpted for this reading concerns the writing and publi¬
cation of her fantasy opera Hadumoth,2 and then Le Beau's subse¬
quent efforts to secure the opera's performance. Her experience
illustrates the difficulties composers of her time faced in obtain-

Luise Adolpha Le Beau, Lebenserinnerungen einer Komponistin (Baden Baden: Emil

Sommermayer, 1910), pp. 155, 161-62, 186-89, 191-92, 211, 213-15. This selection
was chosen and translated by Judith E. Olson.
1. Judith E. Olson, "Luise Adolpha Le Beau: Composer in Late Nineteenth-Century
Germany," in Women Making Music: The Western Art Tradition, 1150-1950, ed. Jane
Bowers and Judith Tick (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1986), pp. 282-83.
2. A copy of the full score is at the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek in Munich.
 WOMEN IN MUSIC
168

ing backers. Her autobiography in general attests to the fact

that, as a female composer, Le Beau encountered still further
difficulties.

Wiesbaden, 1887
For many years I had venerated V[ictor] von Scheffel's
Ekkehard3 and had often thought of modelling the Hadumoth
episode into a plot for a choral work. I discussed this plan with
my parents, and they likewise considered the material quite suit¬
able. The scenario . . . was quickly sketched. I designated pre¬
cisely which characters applied [and] where arias, recitatives,
and ensemble passages or choruses should be sung and asked Frl.
Luise Hitz of Munich to set in verse the action laid out in the
scenario.

Wiesbaden, 1888-89
In the fall of 1888 I began composing Hadumoth, which was
based on the episode of the two shepherd children. After the
orchestral introduction, which I composed last, Audifax begins
with a recitative and aria. He wants to search for a treasure and
asks the dwarfs for help (treasure motive). They taunt him and
send him away. Hadumoth and Audifax then confer at length
how they can win the treasure and through it their freedom.
They decide in a duet to go to the Lady of the Forest in order
to pray for their freedom at the Festival of the Solstice (flame
motive). The two sing (freedom motive) with the following cho¬
rus. Dismissed by the Lady of the Forest, the children wander
through the night and hope that the treasure will fall from the
sky (shooting-star motive). The double chorus follows, in which
the monks and Swabians sing the "Media Vita" in the Phrygian
mode; the Huns, however, sing their battle-song in the "Magyar"
mode. I chose this because I could thus also bring out the contrast
of the two parts harmonically. Herewith ends the second scene.
Now Hadwig orders the dead to be buried. A funeral chorus fol¬
lows. Hadumoth, who has not found her Audifax among the

3. Written in 1857, this historical novel proved to be extremely popular in

Germany.
 1820-1920 169

: dead, goes to the Duchess and entreats her for a gold-piece with
which she can ransom Audifax, who is imprisoned by the Huns.
| She obtains it; Ekkehard blesses her, and the parting chorus
: sounds, "Farewell, maid, brave and strong" with Hadumoth's solo.
In the fourth scene, she wanders (wander motive) and falls asleep
in the forest. Forest spirits protect her. A fisher awakens Hadu-
moth, asks where she wishes to go, and leads her at her request
to the Huns' encampment. A drinking song of the Huns, written
in the "Magyar" mode, closes this scene. The fifth begins with
an orchestral passage, which portrays the ride of the two children
as they flee from the Huns' encampment. In his principal aria,
Audifax then recounts the burning of the Huns' encampment
(flame motive), their ride (riding motive), the death of the Lady
of the Forest, and concludes, "O Hadumoth, you mean more to
me than all the treasures of this world!" (love motive). After a
! short prayer of thanksgiving (duet) they ride on (orchestral pas-
; sage), arriving in their homeland in the middle of a festival. A
I short fugato, "Hey, who comes riding there!", interrupts the He-
gau Dance and Chorus. They are encircled, congratulated, ab-
i solved by Lady Hadwig (freedom motive) and join in a solo-quartet
i with Hadwig and Ekkehard, which culminates in the words: "Yes,
i in love and trust the treasure is found." A closing chorus with
i double fugue extolls the young couple. The orchestral introduc¬
tion utilizes from the motives the three which relate to the moral
of the whole: the treasure, belief, and love motives. The piano
reduction with all the notes concerning the instrumentation was
already finished in Wiesbaden.

Berlin [ca. 1891]

The Hadumoth score was finished. Because such a work could
become known only if the composer himself supplied (or lent)
the parts for the first performance, that then had to be considered.
My father read an advertisement regarding a lithographic machine
and went with me to the factory, in order to become acquainted
with this instrument. We found it usable, and I let one of the
i workers demonstrate it to me. Naturally some practice was neces¬
sary, and much patience, in order to obtain a clean impression,
170 WOMEN IN MUSIC

but I didn't give up, and my loyal parents helped me as much

as possible. . . . We printed mornings from seven to ten; then I
immediately wrote out again the freshly-lined stone for the follow¬
ing day. Despite much trouble and many interruptions, we en¬
joyed this mechanical work very much, since we performed it
together, enlivening it with various jokes. .\ . We printed for a
full year!—

Berlin [ca. 1891-92]

After the [full] scores and piano reductions were bound, the
much more difficult task of bringing the work to the public began!
I played and sang it for the director of the Philharmonic Chorus,
Herr S[iegfried] Ochs. He favored it and praised various aspects.
He liked the solstice chorus very much. Also the duet with the
falling-star motive. I had written a short trill for the violin and
then a woodwind-chord to depict the falling stars. Herr Ochs
asked me if I would like to use a drum stroke here. If it had
been rockets, then one could certainly use drums, but for the
quiet, poetic falling stars I found this totally misplaced. ... He
indicated that he wished to perform Hadumoth. He also recom¬
mended that I go to [Friedrich] Gernsheim, in case he could
perform [it] sooner in his society. This made me distrust Herr
Ochs. . . . The negotiations with Herr Ochs dragged on: he always
acted the same; as if he wanted to perform Hadumoth, but kept
putting it off, spoke of intrigues against him, called Berlin a
"world-village," where there was no interest in new music, and
appeared as if he were asking me for money (which I certainly
could not have given him) to cover a deficit. ... A performance
of my Hadumoth never came. . . .
. . . After I had played Hadumoth for [him], Herr Gernsheim
said, "Here there is truly no longer a difference between masculine
and feminine composition." However, his program was also al¬
ready complete, and he was unwilling to risk another novelty,
although the work had pleased him, since [Georg] Vierling's Con¬
stantin realized a deficit of three thousand marks. Consequently,
it was thus impossible to have a work performed publically in
Berlin without great sacrifice. If at that time I had had twenty
1820-1920 171

or thirty thousand marks at my disposal, my compositions would

have become better known, for Berlin set the tone for the remain¬
ing cities—as musically limited as the public is there!

Recommended by Le Beau's publisher, Paul Simon of Kahnt

Nachfolger, Hadumoth was favorably reviewed by the well-
known music critic and writer, Alfred Kalischer.4

Berlin [ca. 1892]

Using Kalischer's review as a reference, I then turned to direc¬
tors of societies outside [of Berlin] to prepare the way for a perfor¬
mance of Hadumoth. In Hamburg I personally brought it to Herr
[Otto] Bestandig, who told me he would perform it as soon as
they performed it in Berlin! Herr [Adolf] Mehrkens looked
through the work and praised it highly. Then I sent it from Berlin
to the director of the New Singing Society in Stuttgart, Herr
E. H. Seyffardt. . . . Herr Seyffardt wrote to me very cordially and
with full appreciation for Hadumoth—however, he didn't have
any more room in his programs in the immediate future. Later
in Stuttgart when I spoke with him in person, [he indicated]
that he was forced, as it were, by a local publisher to perform
another choral work, Ekkehard, which was little to his liking. I
discovered on this occasion that the composer was willing to pay
the honorarium for the soloists. ... I turned to Friz Steinbach.
He replied that he could not perform the work there [i.e., at
Meiningen] "in spite of many outstanding musical qualities."
It is likely that the Huns' choruses were responsible for that,-
for these certainLy make a performance more difficult, because
most societies are short of male voices, and male singing societies
do not like to sing along in mixed choirs. The Philharmonic Soci¬
ety in Karlsruhe was directed at that time by Cornelius Riibner.
It also would not attempt Hadumoth despite the employment
of my friends there! They told me later that a composer from
Karlsruhe had payed the Philharmonic Society seventeen hundred
marks to perform his mass!

4. Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik 59/39 (Sept. 28, 1892): 437-39.

172 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Le Beau also offered Hadumoth to organizations in Leipzig,

Strasbourg, and Frankfurt, none of which accepted it. Finally,
on moving to Baden Baden in 1893, she showed the work to
the critic and writer Richard Pohl.

Baden Baden, 1893

Richard Pohl, on the contrary, understood Hadumoth much
better. Toward the end of the year I played it for him from begin¬
ning to end as he read along. He enjoyed the "workmanship,
form, invention" as much as my playing, which he deemed "virtu¬
oso" and "much better than a Kapellmeister!" Herr Pohl recom¬
mended the work with great praise at a meeting of the Spa Council.
I found this out from the Lord Mayor G., to whom I had also
been warmly recommended by Her Royal Highness, the Grand
Duchess [of Baden], Indeed, I am especially indebted to that
[i.e., her recommendation], in that the Spa Council decided upon
a performance of the work. I promised to accompany the rehears¬
als, since the Kapellmeister did not play the piano.

Baden Baden, Fall 1894

Herr Kapellmeister [Paul] Hein had returned from his vacation
at the end of October, and now rehearsed as often as I wanted;
we were, however, lacking in men. Each of them wanted to be
invited especially to participate. Finally I turned in addition to
the elementary school teachers and invited high school students
to sing along. The male singing society Hohenbaden took over
the performance of the Huns' choruses. . . .
The portrayer of the main role, who had been engaged at my
recommendation and had memorized her entire part, became
frightened and withdrew three weeks before the concert! This
was all the more fatal for me, since I could have obtained good
singers, who were now already engaged, and each would still have
to learn the part from the beginning! I therefore wrote to the
singing-teacher, Prof. Julius Stockhausen in Frankfurt am Main,
and asked him to recommend one of his best students. He fulfilled
my request and studied the part with Frl. [Johanna] Meyerwisch,
who then also sang here.
1820-1920 173

Before the first full rehearsal, I assembled all of the soloists

at my home to familiarize them with the entire work. Notwith¬
standing, the first collaboration of the orchestra with the choir,
which had just gone over the parts, and the newly-gathered solo
forces came off somewhat "colorfully," and it was very good that
two full rehearsals had been scheduled from the beginning. The
second took place on the following Sunday morning. All made
the greatest conceivable effort, for Her Royal Highness, the Grand
Duchess, had the grace to listen from an adjoining chamber al¬
though the Court was in mourning. Friends from Karlsruhe and
Wurttemberg were also present. Richard Pohl gave me highest
recognition, saying, "If I were the Grand Duchess of Baden, I
would give you the Grand Medal for Art and Science! But you
don't need it: You have merit!"

The performance took place on November 19.5 My parents were

both in the hall. I sat with the Spa Council. The Badeblatt dedi¬
cated a poem to me. Already in the afternoon I received a large
palm. The participation of the townspeople was truly moving!
Baker, merchant, bookbinder, postman, etc., were sitting in the
grand hall long before the beginning of the concert. The partici¬
pants spared no pains. Frl. [Johanna] Meyerwisch sang the main
role with greatest determination. Frau [Iduna] Walter-Chionanus
[sang] Hadwig splendidly. Oberlander, [Theodor] Gorger, and
Herr [Ferdinand] Zerr (the Fisher) acted very well. Exuberant
applause ensued after every scene, indeed, even individual num¬
bers. At the end, I was called forward and wanted to present
the singers as well, but they were also applauding. Then laurel
wreaths, baskets of flowers, and bouquets were brought to the
podium. Everyone congratulated [me] and enjoyed themselves.
Several friends helped me carry the wreaths and flowers home.
My parents had seen nothing of the ovations; they went home
before me as agreed upon earlier, and were no little astonished
when we all arrived so laden! After a few days, when the excite¬
ment was over, they expressed our joy appropriately by giving

5. Evidently this was a concert version.

174 WOMEN IN MUSIC

me a ring to remember the first performance of Hadumoth. Subse¬

quently I received more poems by mail. The reviews were all
glowing. The Lord Mayor said: "It was a triumph." Local newspa¬
pers, as well as those from outside the area (from Stuttgart to
Cologne), took notice.

Later performances took place in Constance in 1895 and in

Pforzheim in 1900.
A Composer's Wife

26 COSIMA WAGNER

Although some women have chafed at the role of suppor¬

tive wife to a creative husband, others have found it immensely
rewarding. Of these, few can he said to have performed the sup¬
portive role more fully than Cosima Wagner (1837-1930) as
the wife of Richard. Cosima was the second of three children
born to Countess Marie D'Agoult and Liszt, who after their
separation in 1844 cruelly used the children as pawns between
them. Growing up virtually as an orphan, Cosima developed
great strength of character. She was a fine pianist in her youth,
and while her mother felt she should pursue a professional ca¬
reer, Liszt was opposed.
In 1857 Cosima married Hans von Billow, an early follower
of Wagner's and subsequently the conductor of the premieres
of Tristan and Die Meistersinger in Munich in 1865 and 1868.
For Cosima the marriage proved unfulfilling. With Wagner, how¬
ever, she found great purpose for her life in serving his genius
and sharing his work in progress. Cosima and Wagner exchanged
vows in 1863, but for numerous and complicated reasons—chief
among them Wagner's dependence on the good will of his patron
Ludwig II of Bavaria—Cosima kept up the pretense of her mar¬
riage to von Billow over the next five years.
The diary entry below is the first in a volume Cosima began
for her children shortly after she joined Wagner permanently
at Triebschen on the outskirts of Lucerne, late in 1868. She
had left her two eldest daughters by von Billow, Daniela and
Blondine, behind with their father in Munich, while bringing

Cosima Wagner's Diaries, vol. 1: 1869-1877, ed. Martin Gregor-Dillon and Diet-
rich Mack, trans. Geoffrey Skelton (New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1978),
pp. 27-29. © 1978, 1977 by Geoffrey Skelton and Harcourt Brace Jovanovich,
Inc. Used by permission of the publisher.
176 WOMEN IN MUSIC

her two daughters by Wagner, Isolde and Eva, with her. She
was pregnant with Wagner's and her third child, Siegfried. Co-
sima soon reunited her children, and in 1870, after she was
divorced by von Billow, Cosima and Richard Wagner were mar¬
ried. Her diaries, which she continued until the composer's death
in 1883, show that she never ceased to agonize over her treat¬
ment of von Billow, even though she believed her union with
Wagner was inevitable. After 1883 Cosima perpetuated the Bay¬
reuth festivals of Wagner's operas and oversaw the performance
rights of his music throughout the world.

Friday, January 1 [1869]

On Christmas Day, my 31st birthday, this notebook was to
have started; I could not get it in Lucerne. And so the first day
of the year will also contain the beginning of my reports to you,
my children. You shall know every hour of my life, so that one
day you will come to see me as I am, for, if I die young, others
will be able to tell you very little about me, and if I live long, I
shall probably only wish to remain silent. In this way you will
help me do my duty—yes, children, my duty. What I mean by
that you will find out later. Your mother intends to tell you
everything about her present life, and she believes she can do
so.
The year 1868 marks the outward turning-point of my life:
in this year it was granted to me to put into action what for
the past five years had filled my thoughts. It is an occupation I
have not sought after or brought about myself: Fate laid it on
me. In order that you may understand, I must confess to you
that up to the hour in which I recognized my true inner calling,
my life had been a dreary, unbeautiful dream, of which I have
no desire to tell you anything, for I do not understand it myself
and reject it with the whole of my now purified soul. The outward
appearance was and remained calm, but inside all was bleak and
dreary, when there came into my life that being who swiftly
led me to realize that up to now I had never lived. My love
became for me a rebirth, a deliverance, a fading away of all that
was trivial and bad in me, and I swore to seal it through death,
1820-1920 177

through pious renunciation or complete devotion. What love has

done for me I shall never be able to repay. When the stars decreed
that events, about which you will find out elsewhere, should
banish into isolation my only friend,1 the guardian spirit and
savior of my soul, the revealer of all that is noble and true, that
he should be left solitary, abandoned, joyless, and unfriended, I
cried out to him: I shall come to you and seek my greatest and
highest happiness in sharing the burdens of life with you. It was
then that I left you, my two precious eldest children. I did it
and would do it again at any moment, and yet I miss you both
and think of you day and night. For I love you all, each with
an equal love; in your hearts I seek the refuge for my earthly
memory when my time is past, and I would sacrifice everything
to you—everything but the life of this one person. Our separation
will be temporary, and you are still so small that you will not
feel it as your mother does. This is my hope.
Early in the morning the Friend came to greet me and wish
me a happy New Year. I am always so overcome by his kindness
toward me, in my ever deeper awareness of his greatness, that
in his presence I always feel I must dissolve into tears. Afterward
I dressed Loldchen and Evchen2 prettily (white satin frocks and
garlands of roses) and we went to give him our good wishes.
Then we had breakfast, after which he went to work as usual
(making a fair copy of the second act of Siegfried and completing
his essay on the Jews).3 I took Evchen and Loldchen into the
garden. Before lunch (at one o'clock) my beloved read me what
he had written. At table he told me more of the range of his
essay, and we discussed his position, that is to say, the position
of art as laid down by the Jews, which made me see Mendelssohn
for the first time as a tragic figure. After the meal he went for
his usual walk, after receiving a telegram from the King4 and

1. Because of the opposition of enemies at the court, Wagner was forced to

ieave Munich in December 1865. In April 1866 he settled at Triebschen, where
Cosima visited him frequently.
2. Cosima's nicknames for Isolde and Eva. Later in the text Isolde is also referred
to as Loldi.
3. Judaism in Music.
4. Ludwig II of Bavaria.
178 WOMEN IN MUSIC

another from you. The latter affected him as it did me; my heart
was heavy and full to bursting, because you were not here with
me, but a glance at him consoled me and gave me courage—I
was looking into a happy future. Then I arranged the Christmas
tree, which was lit today for the second time. At about five o'clock
Evchen and Loldchen, dressed again as angels, came down and
found the Christmas gifts which had been kept back. Richard
played for them, they danced, and I thought of you, my absent
ones, so far away, and once again I watched the merry scene
through a veil of tears, yet here, too, these tears were without
bitterness. Then Richard started up a jumping jack, to Loldi's
great joy. While the little ones were enjoying their supper, he
played me the "Spring Song" from Die Walkiire. When you one
day hear these sounds, my children, you will understand me. I
cannot hear them without being transported right away. — We
had tea upstairs in my room, I asked my beloved to dictate some¬
thing to me today (biography) for superstitious reasons (they
say that whatever one does on the first day of the year one contin¬
ues). Although it was an exertion for him, he wanted in his
indescribable goodness toward me to do it, and so there emerged
two pages about Schopenhauer which for me are beyond all price.
At eleven we parted, after once more reviewing the day together
and finding it harmonious and good. When he had gone, I sat
down at my writing desk to talk to you. The Friend has given
me the golden pen with which he wrote Tristan and Siegfried,
and this I consecrate to these communications of mine to you.
Thus I signify to you how sacredly I regard this work of a mother's
confidences and anxieties; the pen which has traced the sublimest
things ever created by a noble spirit shall now be dedicated solely
to the depths of a woman's heart. So God bless you, my children,
you who are far away, you who are close by, and you lying still
unknown within my womb. May your mother's love be a friendly
light to you in your path through life! Do not mistake your
mother, though you yourselves will never be able to do what
she has done, since what Fate has here decreed is something that
will not recur. All whom I love are now at rest, and so I, too,
will go to my bed. For you and for him my last and friendliest
thoughts!
Women as Amateur Performers, Music
Teachers, and Music Patrons

27 THE FEMALE AMATEUR:

FROM ACCOMPLISHMENT TO
ACHIEVEMENT

With the last third of the nineteenth century the general

gains made by women in education, as well as the success of
numerous female concert artists, occasioned a new seriousness
about the amateur performer. Consequently the long-held con¬
cept of music as a social accomplishment for women was re¬
placed by the ideal of music as a serious achievement for the
musically gifted student only. This trend was especially notable
in the United States beginning in the 1880s, when Etude maga¬
zine, a powerful influence in middle- and upper-class homes,
published numerous articles, letters to the editor, and fictional¬
ized accounts that decried dilettantism in favor of rigorous
study. Etude addressed itself specifically to pianists, but by ex¬
tension its message applied as well to amateur vocalists and
the increasing numbers of women who were taking up other
instruments in the last decades of the century. By the turn of
the century the noted critic James Huneker applauded the dem¬
ise of the "piano girl. "

ETUDE: "AN OPEN LETTER AND THE REPLY"

Dear Sir:
While I do not like to dictate to you concerning my daughter's
musical instruction, feeling how entirely competent you are to
direct it, yet I beg to remind you of a fact which I expressed, if
you will remember, in our first interview, viz.: that I do not
care to make of my daughter a professional player, but only wish

"An Open Letter and the Reply," Etude 4/11 (November 1886): 259.
180 WOMEN IN MUSIC

to have her accomplished for the high society in which it is my

desire and intention she shall move.
From my observation of your manner of instruction, I am led
to believe that, owing to your personal elevated ideals of your
art, you have, perhaps, set an ideal too high for the attainment
of one possessing humbler intents and aspirations.
To be explicit, I think that too much time is expended by
my daughter on technical exercises. To use an illustration, suppose
I send my daughter to study painting, and for a year or more
she is drilled in the practice of drawing or sketching, and for
another half year in the art of mixing colors, use of brushes,
etc., and at last, after painting her first picture, she is told that
the effort is very commendable, but yet it is a mere daub and
must be done over yet a hundred times before it can be in any
respect presentable before connoisseurs. What must I think? Why
I must either question my daughter's intelligence or reflect in
some measure on her instruction.
I feel, again, that my daughter is losing interest in her musical
work because she seems to suffer from comparison with others
of her age, who, with equal advantages, play much finer and
win more applause from their associates.
I trust, sir, you will kindly consider this matter, and give, here¬
after, more pieces to instruct and less exercises to annoy my
daughter, and, at the same time, will consider that I am prompted
by no motive of fault finding or criticism of your excellent meth¬
ods, but am actuated in this appeal to your generosity purely
by the interests and necessities of my child.
Most respectfully,
Madam von_

Esteemed Madam:
In reply to your note of yesterday, I beg to offer a few words
of explanation.
I am at once pleased and pained at the contents of your letter:
pleased with the frankness you display in expressing to me person¬
ally your exact feelings and wishes in this matter; but pained
to perceive that your conception of a musical education has been
1820-1920 181

formed somewhat superficially, from common observation, and

not from a deep study of the subject. I had by no means forgotten
your first conversation with me concerning your daughter's musi¬
cal studies, and indeed, no one could have proceeded more care¬
fully than I in the execution of your wishes then expressed.
You certainly accredit me with sufficient experience to know
exactly what degree of musical culture constitutes true accom¬
plishment.
What is termed accomplishment in our best society is really
but a clever attempt at masking ignorance. It requires but little
knowledge of music, or of language, or of anything else intellectual
to "pass" in society. For this reason, dear Madam, you can readily
see how perniciously it works upon children's minds to hold
up such an ideal of accomplishment as the goal of their youthful
efforts. . . .
You speak of exercises as unimportant, and express your prefer¬
ence for pieces. I grant the expression is very natural. We all
desire the realization of a thing more than its deferment. But
reason tells us, and experience teaches us, that there is no royal
road to achievement. All the great men of the world have united
in declaring effort to be synonymous with genius itself.
To master such a difficult art as music takes a long time, and
a severe course of training.
The training requisite to perform one piece must be as thorough
and nearly as long continued as to perform a dozen. You can
readily understand that if your daughter had been trained to the
point that she could translate with fluency any passage from Virgil,
she would have no difficulty in doing the same in a selection
from Horace. It should not be her aim to learn from her teacher
to recite a number of Latin verses for the amusement of her friends
and to receive the false encomium of "learned," when she knows
she is not learned.
Therefore, I would commend such a course of training in music
as will make her a thorough musician, competent to interpret
to her satisfaction and the delight of her friends, the works of
the masters in a manner that is above the criticism of connoisseurs.
To this end I have made her studies. If she will arrive at excellence
182 WOMEN IN MUSIC

she cannot evade any part of the discipline I have assigned to

her, not has she ever evinced to me any unwillingness to comply
with such demands.
Moreover, your daughter has an exceptional talent, which, if
properly developed, will, in time, redound to our credit and satis¬
faction. ...
Trusting, my dear Madam, that you will ponder on the weight
of these suggestions, and will consider also how deeply I am inter¬
ested in the true progress and education of your talented child,
I remain, with great respect,
Your obedient,
D. De F. Bryant

JAMES HUNEKER:
“THE ETERNAL FEMININE"

What this present generation of children has to be especially

thankful for is its immunity from useless piano practice. Unless
there is discovered a sharply defined aptitude, a girl is kept away
from the stool and pedals. Instead of the crooked back—in Ger¬
many known as the piano back—and relentless technical studies,
our young woman golfs, cycles, rows, runs, fences, dances, and
pianolas! While she once wearied her heart playing [Louis Mor¬
eau] Gottschalk, she now plays tennis, and she freely admits
that tennis is greater than [Sigismond] Thalberg. Recall the names
of all the great women's colleges, recall their wonderful curricu-
lums, and note with unprejudiced eyes their scope and the com¬
paratively humble position occupied by music. In a word, I wish
to point out that piano-playing as an accomplishment is passing.
Girls play the piano as a matter of course when they have nimble
fingers and care for it. Life has become too crowded, too variously
beautiful, for a woman without marked musical gifts to waste it
at the piano.
Begun as a pastime, a mere social adjunct of the overfed, music,
the heavenly maid, was pressed into unwilling service at the piano,

James Huneker, "The Eternal Feminine," Overtones (New York: Scribner's,

1904), pp. 291-93.
1820-1920 183

and at times escorted timid youths to the proposing point, or

eked out the deadly lethargy of evenings in respectable homes.
Girls had to pull the teeth of this artistic monster, the pianoforte,
else be accounted frumps without artistic or social ambitions.
Unlike that elephant which refused to play a Bach fugue on the
piano, because, as the showman tearfully explained, the animal
shudderingly recognized the ivory of the tusks of its mother,
the girl of the middle century went about her task muddled in
wits, but with matrimony as her ultimate goal. To-day she has
forsaken the "lilies and languors" of Chopin, and the "roses and
raptures" of Schumann, and if she must have music, she goes
to a piano recital and hears a great artist interpret her favorite
composer, thus unconsciously imitating the Eastern potentate who
boasted that he had his dancing done for him. The new girl is
too busy to play the piano unless she has the gift; then she plays
it with consuming earnestness. We listen to her, for we know
that this is an age of specialization, an age when woman is coming
into her own, be it nursing, electoral suffrage, or the writing of
plays; so poets no longer make sonnets to our Ladies of Ivories,
nor are budding girls chained to the keyboard. Never has the
piano been so carefully studied as it is to-day, and, paradoxical
as it may sound, never has the tendency of music been diverted
to currents so contrary to the genius of the instrument. All this
is better for woman—and for the development of her art along
broader, nobler lines.
28 WOMEN AS TEACHERS

As women increasingly sought to enter the professions

in the last decades of the nineteenth century, the step from
serious amateur performer to music teacher was a natural one
for many. Indeed, in the United States in 1880 women consti¬
tuted 43 percent of the musicians and music teachers {the two
categories are combined in the census), while by 1910 the figure
had climbed to 66 percent. It must be remembered, however,
that these healthy percentages also reflect the fact that most
avenues of employment were not available to women. Hence
by 1900 muse and music teaching ranked fifth in the most fre¬
quently pursued vocations by women, following elementary
school teaching, medicine, social and religious work, and law.* 1
Distinguished educators such as Clara Baur, Julia Ettie Crane,
and Emma A. Thomas founded their own music schools and
conservatories, and some women worked within the public
school system. But the majority of women were private teachers,
usually of piano or voice.
After her return to America from Germany in 1875, pianist
Amy Fay (Reading 18) combined concertizing with private
teaching, chiefly in Chicago and New York. Despite her reputa¬
tion, Fay still experienced some of the problems that typically
handicapped the woman teacher of her time—problems that she
analyzed in her Etude magazine article of 1902, reprinted here.
One difficulty Fay does not discuss, although it is well docu¬
mented elsewhere: women teachers generally could not com¬
mand the same fees for lessons as men.

Amy Fay, "The Woman Teacher in a Large City," Etude 20/1 (January 1902):
1, 14.
1. Rudolph C. Blitz, "Women in the Professions, 1870-1970," Monthly Labor
Review 9615 (May 1974): 56.
1820-1920 185

AMY FAY: "THE WOMAN TEACHER

IN A LARGE CITY"

We all know the old adage: "Before you cook your hare, first
catch him." No doubt, if women music teachers could get plenty
of pupils, they would be able to teach them; but here is precisely
the difficulty. The woman teacher usually begins her career as
an ambitious girl in a small town. She has some talent, and perhaps
is the organist of one of the churches in the place of her abode.
Her friends and acquaintances think her something remarkable,
and she gradually gets a good class of pupils, at very small prices,
say ten dollars per quarter.
When I began to teach, we used to have to give twenty lessons
for ten dollars, and even then I thought myself favored, because
formerly the quarter numbered twenty-four lessons. Still, in one
way, the country teachers are more fortunate than the city ones,
for the pupils have no distractions or amusements, are interested
in their music, and do not miss their lessons. Moreover, they
take lessons summer and winter, and one time of the year is
the same to them as another.
Now, how is it in the city? Here, in New York, prices are
very high for the best teachers of music. Five dollars is not consid¬
ered an extravagant price to pay per lesson, although it frequently
is more than people can afford. On the other hand, city pupils
begin their terms late in October, and begin to drop off in April.
By the first of June everybody who can goes out of town to avoid
the heat, and the music teacher is left, high and dry, "alone in
her glory." She has the privilege of living on her income through
the summer, and of spending all she has accumulated during
the winter. She returns to the city after her own vacation jaunt
rested, but short of money.
Now is the time, however, when she ought to have plenty of
money to advertise, get herself written up, send out circulars,
and call upon her friends (this last costs car-fare) in order to
impress upon the public mind that she is there and wants pupils.
Otherwise she will go along with very slim classes until the middle
of the winter, when she will have worked into her rut again.
186 WOMEN IN MUSIC

A woman is at a disadvantage on account of her sex, and the

reason of this is that, as a rule, boys and young men do not
study music. Young girls find it more interesting to take of a
man teacher, and this would be alright if the young men would
return the compliment. They would enjoy taking lessons of a
woman in music if she were competent to teach them, and for
the same reason, that it is more interesting to study with a teacher
of the opposite sex. I have had some excellent men pupils, but,
unfortunately, they are all too few and far between!
I was returning to the city last year when a woman of my
acquaintance got on the car and took a seat next to me. Said
she: "Will you please tell me of some good man teacher in New
York? My niece is going to take lessons in music this winter,
and she declares she won't take of a woman." I meekly named
several men teachers and did not once suggest that in my own
misguided opinion I could teach the young girl as well as any
of them. I knew it would be of no use, for a man she would
have!
This preference for men is so well known that it is almost
impossible for a woman to get a good position in the private
fashionable schools in the city. They want a "professor," and
the parents feel better satisfied when their daughters have lessons
from a "gentleman teacher." If women teach in schools, it is
usually as under-teachers, poorly paid. If they do not teach in
schools or conservatories, they must depend upon their own mag¬
netic qualities to attract pupils. It is a precarious means of support,
and I often wonder what becomes of the old music teachers.
One never sees them. The elderly teachers must be shelved, and
how in the world do they save enough to live on?
Women should urge upon parents to have their boys learn mu¬
sic, as well as their girls, and then there would be plenty of pupils
to go round. So long as one sex monopolizes the musical culture
of the world, just so long will women music teachers find it
hard to make a living.
The problem of missed lessons is a hard one for a woman.
Parents realize that when they are dealing with men teachers
they must pay in advance, and that, if their children do not take
1820-1920 187

their lessons, they must expect to lose them. With a man, "busi¬
ness is business." Women do not dream of expecting anything
else from the "lords of creation." With their own sex it is a
very different matter, and, I am sorry to say, they cut off corners
in the most unblushing manner.
Says a mother to me: "Mary has not been very well, and she
has not practiced much this week,- so she wants to be excused
from her lesson." The probable state of the case is that Mary's
mother has been too lazy to attend to her daughter's practicing,
and the shrewd idea is in the back of her head that she will
economize.
I have it in my power to charge for the lesson, but the fee
will be grudgingly paid. For my part, I prefer to be cheated out
of my money to having an unpleasant argument with a pupil.
Some will compound with their consciences by sending word
beforehand that they cannot take the lesson. They reason then
that "you have your time for something else"; and that is so,
but it may be something which does not bring in any money.
Some teachers try to equalize matters by saying that they will
make up the lost lesson within the quarter, but must charge for
it. This will do, if your pupils live in town, but, if they are some
distance out, they will not take the trouble to make the extra
trip. If you make it, the loss of time and railroad fare will make
your profits extremely small.
Fix it as you will, the woman teacher usually comes out at
the small end of the horn, and after she has made up the missed
lessons, lost those which come on holidays, like Christmas and
New Year's, Good Friday and Thanksgiving Day, and finally tri¬
umphantly sends in her bill, paterfamilias delays and dallies about
paying it until at least four weeks more have elapsed, and then
the next quarter is well along.
29 WOMEN AS PATRONS IN THE CLUB
MOVEMENT

The women's club movement, which gained striking mo¬

mentum late in the nineteenth century both in Europe and the
United States, was an unprecedented phenomenon that provided
middle- and upper-class women with the opportunity for self-
development and the betterment of their communities, as well
as a means of overcoming isolation at home. Women in the
clubs engaged in a broad variety of philanthropic and social
reform projects, and many clubs fostered literature and the arts.
In the United States, where men by default "left culture to
the ladies," club women were the chief promoters of cultural
interests throughout the nation. Regarding their work in the
music clubs, in particular, women organized festivals and lend¬
ing libraries, sponsored local talent and managed concert art¬
ists on tour, and oversaw music in the public schools. They
also conducted courses of self-study for members and gave
club concerts, sometimes performing music by women com¬
posers.
The music club movement in the United States received
an important impetus at the Centennial Congress in 1876,
when Fanny Raymond Ritter challenged women to assume
the role of collective music patrons in her address to the As¬
sociation for the Advancement of Women. Ritter's challenge is
presented below, together with Fanny Morris Smith's descrip¬
tion of the personal rewards to be found in club work from
1900.

Fanny Raymond Ritter, Woman as Musician: An Art-Historical Study (New

York: E. Schuberth, 1876), pp. 16-17.
1820-1920 189

Fanny Raymond Ritter

. . . Not all ladies, however, are fortunate enough to boast a

Gluck, a Handel, a Beethoven, a Michelangelo, a Tasso, among
her everyday friends; not all women possess the wealth and power
of a Princess Belgiojoso or a Baroness Rothschild;1 but every Ameri¬
can lady who possesses the indispensable kindness of heart, refine¬
ment, generosity and culture, as well as influence—the wives
of men of intellectual power, inherited wealth, or great commer¬
cial prominence, more especially—can accomplish a great deal
in her own small circle.
Ladies can do this in many ways: by reasonably persistent self-
culture, by aiding in the formation of libraries of musical litera¬
ture, of collections of rare musical instruments, and of private
societies for the home practice of music,- by condemning all that
is unworthy of, and extraneous to art; by discountenancing the
insinuating charlatanism of impudent adventurers, or vulgar spec¬
ulators, and by seconding the claims to social and public distinc¬
tion of genuine artists; by dissuading aspirants of insufficient tal¬
ent from the profession of art, which, rightly pursued, is a secular
ministry, but which, to be really successful as such, demands
remarkable qualities in its highpriests; by sustaining the efforts
of gifted women artists, compelled by sacred duty or sublime
adversity, to make a public display of their talents, [and] by
lending their influence to, and bestowing pecuniary aid on, every
worthy artistic enterprise. These grateful offices fall most naturally
into the hands of the women of America, since, from the very
nature of life here, the time of men of influence is almost wholly
occupied with the claims of business or politics,- few among them
study music at all in their youth, and how many who do, are
able, on leaving college and entering the actual school of life,
to prosecute musical practices and studies, and to carry them to
any practical result, amid the conflicting claims of some profes¬
sion, of commerce, or statesmanship?

1. Cristina Barbiano di Belgiojoso ran a famous salon in Paris in the 1830s

and 1840s. Betty Rothschild, the wife of Beau James, was active in the same
capacity in Paris from the 1820s to the 1860s.
190 WOMEN IN MUSIC

With lady amateurs, then, will chiefly rest the happy task of
preparing, by a beneficent use of such abilities as they may possess,
the soil which must foster the young germs of future American
art, and of hastening the day of its appearance, though this may
be long in coming, for history teaches us that the formation of
so-called national "schools" of art, acknowledged as such by other
nations and the world at large, and not only by friends at home,
must be the work of long centuries rather than of years.
One of the finest recommendations of music to our sex, as
an art worthy of universal cultivation is, that it not only penetrates
to the mind of the hearer, but to the heart also, thus widening
and enlivening the faculties, and rendering them better prepared,
by sympathy, to receive humane and elevated impressions. For
what is all culture, even the highest, save a means to an end?
And what is that end, if not the vivifying and humanizing of
the heart, even more than the purifying and strengthening of
the intellect? . . .

Fanny Morris Smith

This is the month when club women are inaugurating the work
for the coming year, when new club members are entering, and
old members dropping out of club life. If the year's work is to
mean all it should to each club woman, it will be because she
looks at it and goes about it in the right way.
What, if we sift it to the last grain, is the origin and reason
for women's clubs? Is it ambition, or love of culture, or need of
combination, gregariousness? Or is it something deeper still—and
of more vital consequence. I am sure, if we think carefully, we
should recognize the truth: it is a longing for more life, fuller
life, higher life—that brings women together in club work.
As society grows more complex, the constant tendency is to
isolate women in the home: women need not work in the fields
or administer the affairs of business as they did in earlier times.

Fanny Morris Smith, "The Beginning of the Club Year," Etude 18/11 (November
1900): 410-11.
1820-1920 191

Men have gradually aggregated all the functions of business life,

at least in America. Women have been left with none of the
cares or responsibilities that reach out into national or even civic
life. Women have been obliged to concentrate their thoughts on
the administration of a large number of small, vexing, and perplex¬
ing details that make up the unparalleled difficulties of American
housekeeping. Everything has turned inward—nothing left out¬
ward.
Now life grows by extension (not expansion) and health and
vigor increase with mental and soul growth. As a means of escape
from self-contradiction, out into the larger common life of an
intimate circle of kindred minds, the women's club is the greatest
blessing of modern development.
It is obvious that this blessing is only possible to those who
are fit for it. It is to those who are anxious to give and share
that the blessing of woman's organized life comes back, in good
measure, pressed down, running over! To those who enter club
work to get and snatch and keep there is no blessing at all—
only bitterness and unrest and disappointment.
You are tired out with economical housekeeping. You are weary
of keeping up an artificial life of cruel etiquette; you are perplexed
in the daily and hourly solutions of loving helpfulness, or disci¬
pline, or comfort; you are lonely because the opportunity for
loving self-denial has been taken from you, and time hangs heavy
on your hands. Then go into club life—and make an honest and
serious effort to throw your thought and will into the new and
extrapersonal channel which it offers. Live an hour with Mozart
or Beethoven or Liszt—realize and help others to realize what
life meant to them. Spend a day at the club music class and
enter into the feelings of the working girls assembled there. Lend
a hand in starting the young artist, bred a quarter of a mile from
your own door, and share her hopes and fears. Do your part in
getting up the book club, and make the best reading list your
own. In short, get out of yourself into that kind of helpfulness
that organization best promotes, and the year will be the richest
of your life.
Women as Orchestral Musicians

30 THE VIENNA DAMEN ORCHESTER

IN NEW YORK, 1871

As earlier readings have indicated, women played a great

variety of instruments at Italian convents late in the Renaissance
and also at the famous Venetian conservatories in the seven¬
teenth and eighteenth centuries. In contrast to these special
situations, however, it was only in the latter half of the nine¬
teenth century that the choice of instrument widened among
women in general, beyond the so-called 'feminine" instruments
of the period—the piano, harp, and guitar. First the violin and
subsequently the flute and lower strings were successfully pur¬
sued by large enough numbers of women so as to be deemed
acceptable. And by the end of the century women had taken
up all instruments, despite the admonitions in the contemporary
press that as players of wind instruments other than flute, and
as players of brass, they lacked the strength and furthermore
would ruin their looks.
Among these new instrumentalists many sought professional
employment, and some, notably violinists, joined the ranks of
concert artists. The major share, however, looked to orchestral
work, and since the standard all-male orchestras were closed
to them—the lone exception being the female harpist—women
banded together to form their own institutions, the Damen Or-
chester and the Lady Orchestra. The trend originated in the
German-speaking countries and later spread to England and the
United States. For American women an immediate model was
provided by the Vienna Damen Orchester, which visited New
York in the fall of 1871 for two weeks of performances featuring
waltzes. As the following review of the Vienna group's first
performance clearly indicates, an all-women's orchestra had a
definite curiosity value that attracted audiences.
1820-1920 193

September 13, 1871, New York Times

VIENNA LADY ORCHESTRA

The first performance of the Vienna Lady Orchestra was given

at Steinway Hall on Monday evening, to the expressed pleasure
of a very large and fashionable audience. The spectacle was cer¬
tainly a novel one. The platform was changed into a bower, and
under the roses were sheltered, instead of the familiar profanum
vulgus of music makers, a score of blushing maidens attired in
purest white, and armed after the orthodox style for their harmoni¬
ous work. The sight of an instrumentalist of the gentler sex has
little rarity about it, but the view of an organized force of female
musicians was, until Monday, never offered in this country. On
this fact was founded a very large share of the first success of
the Vienna Lady Orchestra, and on it will rest their prospective
triumphs. We would not, however, underrate the cleverness and
culture the company displayed. Its members execute with preci¬
sion and spirit the rather unpretentious selections where of their
program is made up, and some of the solo talent is to be highly
commended. The chief opportunity for fault-finding is suggested
by the lack of heavy wood and string instruments and by the
absence of brass. The dry notes of the piano and the broken chords
of the harp are quite insufficient to support a substantial ground
for the violins, the violoncellos, the dwarfed double bass, and
the flutes. The delivery is on that account devoid of color, and
the sound rather thin. Another cause for complaint is furnished
by the undue prominence of a big drum, and the untunefulness
of a small one, both being in altogether too frequent use. We
need not be so cautious in praising the recital of the Vienna Lady
Orchestra, as to dealing with the composition, and as we stated
above, we can join in the admiration generally shown for the
vivacity and unity of the readings. . . .

"Vienna Lady Orchestra," New York Times, Sept. 13, 1871, p. 5.

31 CAROLINE B. NICHOLS AND THE BOSTON
FADETTE LADY ORCHESTRA

The early American lady orchestras in New York and

Boston confined themselves to popular music, playing in beer
gardens and theaters, but by 1900 there were several women's
groups that performed light and standard classical repertory,
the most famous being the Boston Fadette Lady Orchestra,* 1
under the direction of Caroline B. Nichols. Trained originally
as a violinist, Nichols founded the orchestra in 1888 with the
aid of her brother-in-law, George H. Chickering, of the Chicker-
ing piano firm, and for the next thirty-two years she was active
at its helm in Boston and on tour.
An engagement in Pittsburgh occasioned this interview with
Nichols in the Pittsburgh Gazette. Note that the orchestra was
being featured in vaudeville: women's orchestras at this time
had to be flexible in order to survive. Nichols took great satisfac¬
tion in the fact that over the years of the Boston Fadette's exis¬
tence she prepared more than 600 young women for self-support¬
ing careers as orchestral players.

February 23, 1908, Pittsburgh Gazette Times

HOW ONE WOMAN CARVED OUT A NEW AVENUE

OF BREAD WINNING FOR HER SEX

One of the most fascinating pages in the history of orchestral

music in America is that which traces the career of the Fadettes

"How One Woman Carved Out a New Avenue of Bread Winning for Her Sex,"
Pittsburgh Gazette Times, Feb. 23, 1908, section 4, p. 6. Reprinted by permission
of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.
1. The name "Fadette" was taken from George Sand's 1884 novel La petite
Fadette.
1820-1920 195

woman's orchestra of Boston from its origin, through its early

struggle for recognition and final triumph as the only ranking
symphony orchestra composed entirely of women. It is a story
that reads like a page from romantic fiction. The presence in
this city this week in vaudeville performances at the Grand Opera
house of the Fadettes makes a recital of this story particularly
apropos.
No chronicle of the career of the Fadettes that did not take
into account the source of the gifts with which the members of
the organization have been endowed could be complete. So, we
find the fifty young women who respond to every pulsation of
the baton of Caroline B. Nichols descended from a race of cultured
musicians.
Hereditary influence makes for good as well as evil for those
to whom it is transmitted, and yet we hear so much less about
inherited talents than of the criminal taint. If proof were needed,
and it is not maintained that proof is necessary, the Fadettes
woman's orchestra of Boston furnishes ample evidence that the
gifts of the fathers are inherited by the children, even to the
third and fourth generations. There are [fifty] members in the
Fadette Orchestra, and not one of them but can trace back gifts
to some forbear who achieved at least local fame in the pursuit
of music. . . .
While the Fadettes have been in existence twenty years, their
professional career extends little over a decade. The personnel
of the organization has undergone almost a complete change in
that time, Dan Cupid having made tremendous inroads, while
death has taken a number of the most valued members. Indeed,
not one of the original members save Miss Nichols, the director,
remains with the organization today. More than 100 left because
of marriage, and eight have died.
Caroline B. Nichols, the snow-haired but youngish-looking di¬
rector of the Fadettes, is a thorough musician in every interpreta¬
tion of the term. While the violin is her solo instrument, she
plays almost anything that is placed in her hands and besides
has a thorough knowledge of the literature and theory of music.
She is a great and enthusiastic advocate of music as a field for
196 WOMEN IN MUSIC

breadwinning for women and has done more than any other
woman to develop this field. . . .
"There are twenty-thirty woman's orchestras of a professional
character in the United States today/' she said recently, "and
while none of them has gained the fame that has come to the
Fadettes they are all managed to make a good living for their
members. If young women are going to earn their living, why
not put them at something that will be refined, elevating in its
influences, and artistic in its development? Don't you think the
violin is better than the typewriter? Hasn't the girl who makes
her living with a fiddle a better opportunity and greater social
prestige than her sister who works her way through life playing
the keys of a typewriter in a stuffy office? Mind you I do not
disparage the typist! But I say all things considered isn't it better
to fit a girl to earn her living by music than in a commercial
pursuit of any sort? I only use the typewriter as an illustration
because there are more girls doing that sort of thing perhaps than
in any other single avenue of breadwinning open for women. If
a girl is going to devote herself to music, it is better that she
take up the violin, or almost any other instrument, in preference
to the piano. There are so many piano teachers, they are so poorly
paid, and so few are competent that the opportunities are not
promising."
"The field for women musicians is growing," Miss Nichols
said thoughtfully. "Why when the Fadettes began to appear for
professional engagements, people looked askance, and the men
musicians smiled and said wait until the public hears them. Well,
the public did hear them, and the public liked them so much
that we've never had an open week from that day to this that
was not of our own making. We can play fifty-two weeks a year
if we wish, and we usually do, and we have run as long as twenty
weeks in Keith's Theater in Boston—Boston, mark you, where
they have the greatest symphony organization in America, perhaps
in the world."
"So far as the comforts and conveniences of such an organiza¬
tion as ours," said the conductor, "we have all the comforts of
home. We travel first class, live in good hotels, have our little
1820-1920 197

family of congenial companions, and as many of our engagements

are for long runs, particularly in the summer and fall, you can
readily understand we are not put to any inconveniences. We
never play less than a week anywhere."
32 CAMILLA URSO ON PROFESSIONAL EQUITY
FOR WOMEN VIOLINISTS, 1893

Women instrumentalists in the turn of the century period

had a strong supporter in concert violinist Camilla Urso (1842-
1902), who at the 1893 Woman's Musical Congress in Chicago
attested to the affinity of women with her instrument and made
the case for women violinists as orchestral players. Born in
Nantes, France, Urso at the age of seven became the first female
student of violin at the Paris Conservatory. In the early 1850s
she immigrated to the United States with her family and ap¬
peared as a child prodigy. Later, as a mature artist, she performed
widely in the United States, Canada, Europe, and Australia,
providing inspiration to countless girls and young women.
The Woman's Musical Congress was held during the World's
Columbian Exposition in Chicago and drew the largest number
of amateur and professional American women musicians ever
assembled. Planned specifically as an event to bring recognition
to the recent achievements of women in the music field, the
congress sponsored recitals of works by women composers and
lectures by leading performers and educators, such as Camilla
Urso.

WOMEN AND THE VIOLIN: WOMEN AS PERFORMERS

IN THE ORCHESTRA

So many times have I been asked, Why I learned to play the

violin, that to cut matters short I would answer the question
by another: Why should I not have learned the violin?

Susan Kagan, "Camilla Urso: A Nineteenth-Century Violinist's View," Signs

2/3 (spring 1977): 731-34. © 1977 by the University of Chicago Press. Reprinted
by permission of the University of Chicago Press.
1820-1920 199

For women to play the violin or any string instruments with

bow is not of recent date,- centuries ago, ladies of high birth and
station used to charm away the leisure hours and entertain their
friends with their playing. Indeed as exalted a personage as Eliza¬
beth, Queen of England, amused herself with the violin and an
instrument of this denomination of the old and imperfect fashion,
has been traced to her possession.1
The virgin queen's case was not an isolated one, the squadron
of Catherine of Medici, as her maids were called, the followers
of Marguerite de Navarre, the ladies in Boccaccio's Decameron
are represented as playing on the viol, and painters of the 16th
and 17th centuries represent St. Cecilia, the patron of musicians,
playing on the Treble viol, the precursor of the violin in its present
shape. The treble viol required from the performer a position
and handling similar to those exacted by the violin.
Giuseppi Tartini in his school at Padua (Italy) had excellent
female scholars. Maddalena Lombardini-Sirmen, one of these, at¬
tained fame as a performer and composed considerable violin mu¬
sic; most of her works were published at Amsterdam (Holland).2
In 1784, Mozart composed his sonata in B-flat major, for violin
and piano [K. 454], for his friend Regina Strinasacchi. This lady
was a celebrated performer on the violin and Mozart often played
with her in concerts.
To record the name of women who have attained celebrity in
the art of violin playing is not my object. I only wish to show
in the preceding paragraphs that my action in choosing the instru¬
ment was not a whim, nor a case of rare occurrence, nor a novel
one.
I believe myself however to have been the first girl violinist
heard in the United States after I was brought over here from
the Paris Conservatoire by an American Impresario to play in
concerts. I was then ten years.

1. It is now thought that Queen Elizabeth played the virginals and also possibly
the lute. Urso's subsequent references to women musicians associated with Cather¬
ine de Medici and Marguerite de Navarre could not be confirmed.
2. As noted in the introduction to Reading 12, Lombardini-Sirmen and Regina
Strinasacchi, who is mentioned subsequently by Urso, received their initial train¬
ing at the Venetian conservatories.
200 WOMEN IN MUSIC

The development of violin playing amongst women in Europe,

America, Australasia, is truly prodigious of recent years and a
teacher of long date in New York was saying recently that was
it not for his female scholars he would have to retire. The old
objection against women playing the violin was that it lacked
grace in the appearance and movements of the performer, until
women coming before the foot-lights demonstrated the absurdity
of the notion and to an admiring public proved that a pretty
woman, handsomely attired, arms and shoulders bared, violin
and bow in hand is more picturesque and possessfes] more attrac¬
tion than the male performer dressed in the conventional dress
suit.
Sundry reasons may be mentioned why the art of violin playing
of all others should be cultivated by ladies anxious to acquire
musical talents.
First, the lightness and grace of the violin. To look at it, to
watch its wonderful contours, its perfection of form is a pleasure
always renewed, never tiresome. Ask the violin amateurs; they
will look over and over again the same instrument discussing
new points to admire, never tired to take it up. Secondly it is
easily handled and carried. Thirdly, no other instrument is so
truly melodious, a simple ballad played on the violin will charm
and give intense pleasure. Like the voice it responds to one's1
emotion and mood. Fourthly, as a solace, no better, no more re¬
sponsive friend one finds than this delightful instrument and
one gets so attached to it, that any slight accident, a crack, a
jar, makes one feel grieved as if a dear companion gets in¬
jured. . . .
I have tried to show that as an "art d'agrement," the violin
is perfectly within the ability of women and "en rapport" to
their tastes and I will approach the subject of its utility to many
students who could turn an honest penny by their acquired talent.
But few can become virtuosi and many really good players must
stay at home, who were they given an opportunity, would be
glad to help their family and themselves.
Why leave all this talent go for nothing and not utilize it in
the orchestras? Women as a rule play in better tune than men.
1820-1920 201

They play with greater expression, certainly, than the average

orchestral musician. In Dublin, in Melbourne, I have employed
lady violinists to reinforce my orchestra. They performed their
part very well and with great attention to details. They were
quick to understand, prompt at rehearsals, obedient and attentive
to the conductor's remarks and not inclined to sneak away under
a pretext or another if the rehearsal was a trifle long, they gave
good work for the money paid them. If such an incentive as
paid employment in this way was given to the many female violin¬
ists now doing nothing, what a benefit it would be to many of
the theatres!! The scratching to be heard in some of these is
enough to excuse our gentlemen escorts to leave their seats be¬
tween the acts.
I know in advance the objection that will be brought out against
my proposition: and what of the household duties of these
women? It would be too easy to enumerate the thousands of
comediennes that are in public every day; but I shall point that
in most orchestras the place of harpist is supplied by women.
This admitted, why should not [other] ladies be employed in
the same orchestras??
33 SHOULD WOMEN PERFORM IN THE SAME
ORCHESTRA WITH MEN?

In 1903 the Musical Union in New York became affiliated

with the American Federation of Labor and in so doing was
compelled to accept qualified women musicians as members.
Interviews with three local musicians about this situation and
about the general question of women in orchestral work are
presented below, followed by comments from a conductor at
the Paris Opera.

Gustave Kerker, Musical Director

at the Casino Theater

It would be like oil and water to put men and women in the
same organization. Women musicians alone may be alright, but
they don't belong with men. The Musical Union is making a
big mistake admitting women to membership. Neither sex will
derive any real benefit from such an arrangement, except in the
matter of wages. Labor Unions have established rates, and natu¬
rally women musicians who belong to the union will be entitled
to the same money as the men receive, whereas in the past many
have played for less.
Another mistake in joining a labor union is that musicians
have lowered themselves from the status of artists to that of labor¬
ers. Women harpists are admitted to be more desirable than men,
the harp being essentially a woman's instrument. It requires such
delicate fingering, you will find everywhere women are in demand

"Opinions of some New York Leaders on Women as Orchestral Players," Musical

Standard [London] 21 (Apr. 2, 1904): 217-18, "La femme musicienne d'orches-
tre," Le guide musical 50 (July 31-August 7, 1904): 572.
1820-1920 203

for this work. But here a line should be drawn in the orchestra.
Nature never intended the fair sex to become cornetists, trombon-
ists, and players of wind instruments. In the first place they are
not strong enough to play them as well as men; they lack the
lip and lung power to hold notes which deficiency makes them
always play out of tune. One discordant musician might not be
noticed in an orchestra, but if you have several women members
or a whole band composed of them, the playing verges on the
excruciating. Another point against them is that women cannot
possibly play brass instruments and look pretty, and why should
they spoil their good looks? . . .
Do I think our theaters will eventually employ women musi¬
cians? No, most emphatically to that question. In the first place,
very few musical directors would want them because women can¬
not be depended upon for rehearsing and the hard work demanded
of musicians. Woman, lovely woman, is always to be admired,
except when she is playing in an orchestra. She is certainly not
in her own sphere, and any leader will find this out after he
has had a few quarrels and instances of feminine disagreements.

Nahan Frank, Concertmaster of the Metropolitan

Opera Orchestra.

More women will take up music now that they can become
professionals of equal standing with men. The fact that positions
of good and established salaries are open to their sex will encourage
them to become good artists. I predict that the future will see
many women filling orchestral positions, especially in theaters,
and some, indeed, may advance so far as to become eligible to
an opera organization. . . . There is no harder orchestra work
to do than operas, it requires tremendous physical strength and
endurance, combined with an intuitive power to anticipate, as
it were—to follow—the singer. No two opera artists sing alike,
one night we have Mme. [Johanna] Gadski in the role of Elsa,
and perhaps a night or two later another artist will sing the role
in a very different style. Now a thorough musician has to under¬
stand just how to accompany each one after scarcely any rehears-
204 WOMEN IN MUSIC

ing. Musical instinct and physical qualification are not all the
requirements, either, to make a successful orchestral player. Tre¬
mendous lung power is needed for all the wind instruments, and
few women possess this. In some points women would be more
desirable than men in orchestral work. They would be easily
guided, they would be punctual and reliable and would not be
tempted, as so many men are, to send substitutes whenever they
got a chance to make a little more money playing somewhere
else.

Ada Heinemann, a Player in the Orchestra

at the Atlantic Garden Music Hall

We never go there [i.e., to the Musical Union's headquarters].

In fact, we should feel very much out of place among the men,
and even though our membership in the union entitles us to
vote, we do not take advantage of this privilege. However, we
do anticipate some good from it in the near future. The chances
are that we will be called upon to take men's places when we
can do so, and this means a broadening of our field. If I had a
chance to substitute for a man I should do so in a minute. By
accepting them [i.e., substitute engagements] women gain a foot¬
hold in the orchestral world, and that is what we are ambitious
for. Now we are limited to concert work or to organizations com¬
posed entirely of women. I am sure a great many of us could
hold our own with the majority of men; all we need is the chance
to show them what we are capable of and willing to do. There
is no reason why an orchestra leader should not engage a woman
cornet player or a violinist, if she is good, just as quickly as he
would a man. Sex should make not a difference whatsoever, if
the woman can play an instrument well.

Paul Taffanel, Conductor at the Opera and Head

of the Orchestra Class at the Paris Conservatory

I have only praise for the women instrumentalists who have

been admitted to the orchestra class at the Conservatory. Commit-
1820-1920 205

ted, punctual, all very talented—two play first desk—they fill

well the positions they hold. One supposes that they would do
as well in a concert orchestra.
As far as the theater! . . . The situation is entirely different,
and at the Opera, for example, there is opposition to the introduc¬
tion of women into the orchestra. The physical obstacles seem
almost insurmountable to me. We demand of our musicians four
hours of work daily: from eight o'clock [in the evening] until
midnight; we demand regular attendance at rehearsals,- in sum,
an effort that is almost impossible to obtain from a woman.
I will add that it is hardly a French custom to bring young
men and young ladies together in the same work; our musicians
enjoy great freedom in behavior among themselves,- at intermission
they come [and] go as they please. We are not able to restrain
their freedom, nor [are we able] to take responsibility for the
problems that could result for women from this same indepen¬
dence.
If other theaters want to experiment [in hiring women orches¬
tral players], they certainly will be interesting to watch, and what¬
ever the result, it will be an important indication for women
instrumentalists. Until then it seems that women desiring to play
in an orchestra have greater opportunities in concert work.
The "Woman Composer Question"

34 GEORGE UPTON: A CLASSIC

FORMULATION OF THE THEORY OF
WOMEN'S INNATE INFERIORITY

The heightened activity of women as performers, music

teachers, and patrons in the club movement in the late nine¬
teenth and early twentieth centuries was paralleled in the field
of composition by a significant increase in the number of women
seeking to enter the ranks of art-music composition. There had
been, throughout the nineteenth century, a large number of
women composers in the realm of popular music, amateurs
mainly, writing parlor songs and dance music for piano. Their
activity was seemingly deemed acceptable, or so lack of comment
in the contemporary literature would indicate. By contrast, the
influx of women into the loftier realm of art music—Le Beau
and Smyth were part of this generation and at its forefront—
occasioned a strong opposition that raged for more than thirty
years. Alarmed by women's growing presence, critics decried
what they saw as a feminization of music, with its inevitable
deterioration, and they developed theories that maintained the
innate inferiority of women as composers.
George Upton, the Chicago music critic, was an early formula-
tor of one such theory in his influential book Woman in Music,
of 1880, which is excerpted for this reading. Women, Upton
allows, could serve as muse for inspiration to male composers,
and they could also interpret, especially as singers; but they
could not write music—that is, great music. The proof was that
women had not written great music in the past.

Conceding that music is the highest expression of the emotions,

and that woman is emotional by nature, is it not one solution

George Upton, Woman in Music (Boston: }. R. Osgood, 1880), pp. 21-28.

1820-1920 207

of the problem that woman does not reproduce them because

she herself is emotional by temperament and nature, and cannot
project herself outwardly, any more than she can give outward
expression to other mysterious and deeply hidden traits of her
nature? The emotion is a part of herself, and is as natural to
her as breathing. She lives in emotion, and acts from emotion.
She feels its influences, its control, and its power; but she does
not see these results as man looks at them. He sees them in
their full play, and can reproduce them in musical notation as
a painter imitates the landscape before him. It is probably as
difficult for her to express them as it would be to explain them.
To confine her emotions within musical limits would be as diffi¬
cult as to give expression to her religious faith in notes. Man
controls his emotions, and can give an outward expression of
them. In woman they are the dominating element, and so long
as they are dominant she absorbs music. Great actresses who have
never been great dramatists may express emotions because they
express their own natures; but to treat emotions as if they were
mathematics, to bind and measure and limit them within the
rigid laws of harmony and counterpoint, and to express them
with arbitrary signs, is a cold-blooded operation, possible only
to the sterner and more obdurate nature of man. As I have said,
so long as the emotions are dominant, she absorbs music. When
the emotions lose their force with age, her musical power weakens.
Almost every man who has learned to play an instrument, or
to sing, be it ever so poorly, and be his troubles or his cares
ever so pressing, continues to play or to sing as long as he has
strength. . . .
The large majority of women drop their music long before the
hair grows gray, or at the first touch of sorrow. This may be
due partly to the effect of forced and unwholesome practice in
these days when it is thought that every girl, whether she have
musical intelligence and ability or not, must learn to play the
piano, and partly to the engrossing demands of household cares,-
but these causes do not explain what is a general rule: while,
in the matter of care, even the pressure of business does not
divert man's attention from his music; on the other hand, he
turns to it, even in his old age, for rest and solace.
208 WOMEN IN MUSIC

There is another phase of the feminine character which may

bear upon the solution of this problem; and that is the inability
of woman to endure the discouragements of the composer, and
to battle with the prejudice and indifference, and sometimes with
the malicious opposition, of the world, that obstruct his progress.
The lives of the great composers, with scarcely an exception,
were spent in constant struggle, and saddened with discourage¬
ments, disappointments, the pinching of poverty, the jealousies
of rivals, or the contemptuous indifference of contemporaries.
Beethoven struggled all his life with adverse fate. Schubert's music
was hardly known in his lifetime, and his best works were not
known until after his death. Schumann is hardly yet known.
There is scarcely a more pitiable picture than that of the great
Handel struggling against the malicious cabals of petty and insigni¬
ficant rivals for popular favor, who now are scarcely known even
by name. Berlioz's music is just beginning to be played in his
native country. Wagner has fought the world all his life with
indomitable courage and persistence, and has not yet established
a permanent place for his music. There is scarcely a composer
known to fame, and whose works are destined to endure, who
lived long enough to see his music appreciated and accepted by
the world for what it was really worth. Such fierce struggles
and overwhelming discouragements, such pitiless storms of fate
and cruel assaults of poverty, in the pursuit of art, woman
is not calculated to endure. If her triumph could be instant, if
work after work were not to be assailed, scoffed at, and rejected,
there would be more hope for her success in composition; but
instant triumphs are not the rewards of great composers. The
laurels of success may decorate their graves, placed there by the
applauding hands of admiring posterity, but rarely crown their
brows.
It is a curious fact, that nearly all the great music of the world
has been produced in humble life, and has been developed amid
surroundings of poverty and in the stern struggle for existence.
The aristocracy has contributed very little to music, and that
little can be spared without detriment. Nearly all the masters
have been of lowly and obscure origin, and have lived and died
1820-1920 209

in comparative poverty; for, with rare exceptions, musical compo¬

sition has been miserably unremunerative until within the last
fifty years. The enduring music has been the child of poverty,
the outcome of sorrow, the apotheosis of suffering. Sebastian Bach
was the son of a hireling musician. Beethoven's father was a dissi¬
pated singer. Cherubini came from the lowest and poorest ranks
of life. . . .
But even assuming that woman had the disposition and the
leisure to devote to musical composition, would she then succeed?
The bluntest answer to this is, that she has not succeeded when
she has had the opportunity. But there is another way, perhaps,
of arriving at an answer. Woman reaches results mainly by intu¬
itions. Her susceptibility to impressions, and her finely-tempered
organization, enable her to feel and perceive, where man has to
reach results by the slow processes of reason. So far as music is
a matter of emotion, she is more immediately sensitive to it than
man: she absorbs it more quickly, if not so thoroughly; she dis¬
criminates with more nicety, and often judges with more impar¬
tiality; she recognizes what is true and what is false more quickly.
If music were only an object of the perceptions, if it simply ad¬
dressed itself to the senses, if it were but an art composed of
ravishing melody, of passionate outbursts, of the attributes of
joy, grief, and exaltation, and vague, dreamy sensations without
any determinate ideas, woman possibly would have grasped it
long ago, and flooded the world with harmony as she has with
song, but music is all this and more, for these are only effects.
It is not only an art, but an exact science, and, in its highest
form, mercilessly logical and unrelentingly mathematical. The
imagination does not have a free flight, but is bounded within
the limits of form. The mere possession of the poetical imagination
and the capacity to receive music in its fullest emotional power
will not lead one to the highest achievements in musical art.
With these subjective qualities must be combined the mastery
of the theoretical intricacies, the logical sequences, and the mathe¬
matical problems, which are the foundation principles of music.
In this direction woman, except in very rare instances, has never
achieved great results. Her grandest performances have been in
210 WOMEN IN MUSIC

the regions of romance, of imagination, of intuition, of poetical

feeling and expression.
For these and many other reasons growing out of the peculiar
organization of woman, the sphere in which she moves, the train¬
ing which she receives, and the duties she has to fulfil, it does
not seem that woman will ever originate music in its fullest and
grandest harmonic forms. She will always be the recipient and
interpreter, but there is little hope she will be the creator.
However this may be, there is a field in which she has accom¬
plished great results,- namely, her influence upon the production
of music. She has done so much for music, that it is not exaggera¬
tion to claim, that, without her influence, many of the master¬
pieces which we now so much admire might not have been written
at all, that the great composers have written through her inspira¬
tion, and that she has, in numerous notable instances, been their
impulse, support, and consolation.
35 HELEN J. CLARKE: REGARDING UNEQUAL
EDUCATION IN THE PAST

As the "woman composer question" evolved, women's

supporters argued that women had traditionally been hindered
by a lack of training, and they demanded equal educational
opportunities. They were certainly correct, for it was only late
in the century that conservatories generally allowed women
to enroll in theory and composition classes. Helen J. Clarke
stresses the problems of deficient education and women's lack
of practical experience in the following excerpt from her rebuttal
to Edith Brower's "Is the Musical Idea Masculine?"* 1 Brower
had answered this question with an emphatic yes, and like Up¬
ton she maintained that women could not handle the abstract—
for example, form in music.

We do not hear of women being subjected to any such drill

in the gradually developing laws of counterpoint and later of
harmony. Even within the last decade, the writer has heard of
German teachers who absolutely refused to teach women the
science of harmony, because, as they declared, no woman could
understand it. If such a feeling is possible in this enlightened
century, it is easy to picture what might have been the attitude
in the past toward the training of women in the direction of
creative work in music. This fact needs peculiar emphasis, because
in Germany the two tendencies, on the one hand, of musical
development, and, on the other, of suppression of women have
been most marked.

Helen J. Clarke, "The Nature of Music and Its Relation to the Question of Women
in Music," Music [Chicago] 7 (March 1895): 459-61.
1. Atlantic Monthly 73 (March 1894): 332-39.
212 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Against the argument that women have had no opportunities,

Miss Brower adduced that woman had a lute put into her hands
before the pen. That is just the trouble,- she has had so much
and no more. She has until comparatively recently been taught
to execute but not to create.
Another way in which conditions have been peculiarly favora¬
ble for the development of the composing faculty in men is that
they have always breathed in the midst of musical environments.
When a Bach or a Haydn is discovered to have a voice, he immedi¬
ately becomes a choir boy, and being a boy he knows he may
someday become choir master, so he observes the effects which
may be produced from the organ, or the effects in chorus singing—
all of which he lays up in his mind and digests as artistic food.
Likewise, when a Handel or a Beethoven plays an instrument
ere long he plays in an orchestra, and so has constant opportunity
of observing the qualities and capabilities of the instruments, the
timbre, the intensity of sound and so on. Only by such means
can he hope ever to use instruments effectively. And this artistic
expression is no more than artistic diet without which the artistic
faculty can no more grow and develop than could a human body
develop physically without food.
I repeat, that, considering the peculiarly important part played
by form in music, and by form I do not mean necessarily classic
form, but form in all its modern developments—more of this
artistic diet is needed in the development of a creative talent
than in any other art. . . .
... I do not intend to argue from these facts that women
are great composers. The proof of this must lie alone in her produc¬
tion of great musical works. I think, however, as I have tried to
show, that the nature of music is such that certain conditions
in the past have militated greatly against her highest development
in the art, and notwithstanding the fact that the lute was put
into her hand before the pen, these causes are not any innate
inferiority of mind or heart, of intellect or emotion, but a lack
of that transcendant power of expression in form, which in music,
especially, can only come, and has only come even to the greatest
of musicians, after the most profound and careful study of the
1820-1920 213

laws of composition and of the masterpieces of the art.

Until women have had the same sort of training, above all,
the same musical environments, the same opportunity to devote
themselves body and soul to the art of composition, it is manifestly
unfair to declare them mentally and emotionally incapable of
great work.
The difficulties that women must overcome are far greater than
those which meet men at the dawn of their musical career. They
must come into competition with all the great works which have
preceded them, and they must struggle in the face of a prejudice
against their possession of genius so deeprooted and widespread
that even their faith in themselves wavers, and the desire to attain
without which no goal can be made is thus shorn of the strong
impulse that should "aim at the stars" and is content if it but
"hits the moon."
36 FREDERICK MEADOWS-WHITE:
REGARDING THE "GREAT COMPOSER"
ASPECT OF THE QUESTION

The "woman composer question" also sparked many in¬

vestigations of women's actual history as composers. As a result,
supporters'of women could point to a tradition for female com¬
posers, and they responded that whereas women did not figure
among history's few greatest composers, many women—together
with countless men—had pursued viable careers in composition,
gaining recognition in their own time.
The English composer Alice Mary Smith (1839-84) was a
minor figure who achieved some distinction in the 1880s. A
performance of her cantata Ode to the Passions was well received
in London in 1883 and occasioned much comment about the
potential of female composers. At a session of the Musical Asso¬
ciation that documented women in composition beginning in
the sixteenth century, the husband of Alice Mary Smith, Frederick
Meadows-White, was asked for his reactions to the "woman com¬
poser question,” from his standpoint as a "very clever man mar¬
ried to a very clever woman." Mr. Meadows-White, Director of
the Royal Academy of Music, responded:

I think the Chairman has given the very best reason why I
should be silent, because if I am married to a very clever woman
my position must be one of inferiority at home, a position I should
find it difficult to escape from when I came abroad. But I confess
that on this particular subject I have not very much to say. My
conviction is this, that excellence in music as in other things is

Stephen S. Stratton, "Woman in Relation to Musical Art," Proceedings of the

Musical Association 9 (1882-83): 136-39.
1820-1920 215

reached by the same methods for women as for men. I cannot

help thinking that one reason why women have not had such
success in composition as men is partly owing to this, that compo¬
sition has not been made so much a study by them as by men.
Another reason may be that the general education of women has
not been the same as that of men. . . .
There is no doubt that where there is one woman who from
circumstances has been able to cultivate such studies, there have
been thousands and millions of men whose education has gone
as far as their capacity allowed them, and naturally enough by
the law of averages—though I do not say this accounts for it
entirely—you would expect to find the number of very eminent
women in such studies less than that of eminent men. Five or
six great composers have been named—Bach, Mozart, Beethoven,
and two or three other great names to whom we all turn at once—
but, consider how many generations, how many centuries have
passed before these few names which are in the category of great
composers have arisen!1 No doubt if you search and read lists
you will find a great number of men who have composed, but
when you look back over the past these great men stand up four,
five, or six at the most. Now to produce those five or six names
look at the personas who have put pen to ruled paper, and have
produced works more or less of merit in their time.
Mrs. Meadows-White has been kindly alluded to in the paper,
but I am perfectly certain of this—and I desire to say so, for I
know there are other ladies here equally distinguished in musical
composition—I am sure she would be the last person to say that
she has advanced very far on the road towards the eminence
which Handel or Mozart or any of the great masters attained.
She has only moved up to a certain point by the same means
as any person, man or woman, who gets forward has done, that
is to say, taking pains in the cultivation of those gifts which
she has.
There is no doubt that a woman when she is married has other
duties which may prevent her from occupying all her time in

1. Generally, little was known about music before 1700 at this time.
 216 WOMEN IN MUSIC

musical composition. Still, 1 may say it does not follow that,

because a woman is married, she ceases to have any encouragement
to go on in that path in which she has been successful. ... I
may add from experience that there is nothing inconsistent with
the little eminence my wife has attained in music with the good
management of domestic affairs.

fifVu

jxii? dcud' IhU

frvUAA.xJ- JLdi& dujLsfci
fiut -jiud unU)

aSd \ZtSLt'bk~>
/l & "tu (<.'•

La-)/ f
37 AMY FAY: WOMEN HAVE
TOO WELL AIDED MEN

In the opinion of Amy Fay, the greatest obstacle facing

women in the past had been their failure to take their own
talents and aspirations seriously. Fay's reference to John Ruskin
is to his Of Queen's Gardens, "a lecture investigating the true
dignity of woman, and her mode of help to men. “* 1 Ruskin pro¬
claimed that woman's intellect, unlike man's, “was not for in¬
vention or creation, but for sweet ordering, arrangement, and
decision. . . . Her great function is to praise."2 “Knowledge
should be given her as may enable her to understand and even
to aid the work of men. "3

Women have been too much taken up with helping and encour¬
aging men to place a proper value on their own talent, which
they are too prone to underestimate and to think not worth mak¬
ing the most of. Their whole training, from time immemorial,
has tended to make them take an intense interest in the work
of men and to stimulate them to their best efforts. Ruskin was
quite right when he so patronizingly said that "Woman's chief
function is praise." She has praised and praised, and kept herself
in abeyance.
But now, all this is changed. Women are beginning to realize
that they, too, have brains, and even musical ones. They are, at
last, studying composition seriously, and will, ere long, feel out
a path for themselves, instead of being "mere imitators of men."

Amy Fay, "Women and Music," Music [Chicago] 18 (October 1900): 506.
1. The Complete Works of John Ruskin, ed. E. J. Cook and Alexander Green
(London: George Allen, 1905), 14:112.
2. Ibid., p. 122.
3. Ibid., p. 125.
218 WOMEN IN MUSIC

For the matter of that, men have been imitators of each other
at first. We all know that Mozart began to write like Haydn,
and Beethoven began to write like Mozart, before each developed
his own originality of style, and as for Wagner, he has furnished
inspiration and ideas for all the composers who have succeeded
him. Why, then, should we expect of women what men could
not do (although Minerva was said to have sprung fully armed
from the brain of Jove)? If it has required 50,000 years to produce
a male Beethoven, surely one little century ought to be vouchsafed
to create a female one!
It is a very shallow way of looking at the matter to say that
"women have not been handicapped in music, because more girls
than boys have been taught to play the piano or the harpsichord."4
What does such teaching amount to? Really very little. To be a
great creator in art, one must be trained to it from one's earliest
years by a gifted parent or teacher. Mozart and Beethoven had
fathers who fully realized the capacity of their sons, and they
made them study early and late, "every day i' the hour," as Shake¬
speare says. No doubt, an hour of such work as these composers
did in their youth, would be worth many days of the kind of
musical preparation demanded of girls of this or any other period.

suras & <

4. As maintained by A.L.S. in "Women and Music," Musical Courier 41/5
(Aug. 1, 1900): 33.
38 MABEL DANIELS: FIGHTING
GENERALIZATIONS ABOUT WOMEN

Mabel Daniels's experience in integrating the score-read¬

ing class at the Munich Conservatory in 1902—which she de¬
scribes here in two letters to a friend—illustrates how women
in the past have had to fight generalizations about what women
should and should not do. Daniels graduated from Radcliffe Col¬
lege in 1900 and went to Munich to study composition with
Ludwig Thuile at the recommendation of her Boston teacher,
George W. Chadwick, head of the New England Conservatory
and a former classmate of Thuile's at Munich under Joseph
Rheinberger. In addition to her work in composition, the high¬
lights of Daniels's year in Munich were her vocal studies and
attending performances of Wagner's operas. She returned to Bos¬
ton to pursue a long and distinguished career as a composer.

4 October [1902]
Such a glorious Allegro vivace day! The sun is shining, the
air is crisp and cool, and the sauciest of breezes is coquetting
with the tree-tops in the Platz. It gets into one's blood, a morning
like this, and the wildest dreams seem possible of fulfillment. I
came home from my lesson humming the theme of the scherzo
of Beethoven's Eighth Symphony [in F major, op. 93]. It seemed
to fit the buoyancy of my mood as nothing else could.
I can see you smile now and hear you say, "It's quite evident
she is happy in her new surroundings." Exactly so, my dear, and
there are so many delightful things to tell you that I don't know
where to begin. However, the Conservatory forms one of the most

Mabel Daniels, An American Girl in Munich (Boston: Little, Brown, 1905),

pp. 39-44.
220 WOMEN IN MUSIC

vital elements of my new life here, so I'll start by telling you

of my visit there.
Be it known then, that the Royal Conservatory of Munich,
to give it its full title, opened the 18th [of September], and
promptly at nine o'clock I made my way thither. What a rambling
building it is, and how replete with association! So many musi¬
cians have studied here at some time or other, although Rheinber-
ger and many of the teachers who have made it famous are now
memories of the past. With a certain indefinable thrill I realized
I was actually within these walls.
Instead of the "Herein!" which I expected to hear in response
to my knock on the door of the director's room, [Bernhard] Sta-
venhagen himself opened the door. I wonder if you heard him
play when he was in America. He's a handsome man, not much
above thirty, with blue eyes, firm chin, straight nose, and curly
blond hair and mustache.
In fact, he has all the delightful characteristics of a German
and none of the unlovely ones. Besides this, he is tall, a rarity
in men of this nation.
"Eine Amerikanerin!" he said pleasantly, pushing a chair for¬
ward. "I speak a lee-tle English, but" he went on in German,
"perhaps we will make more progress if I stick to my mother
tongue."
"I speak a very little German," said I, smiling, not feeling the
least afraid of him, and forthwith explained my situation and
what I wished to do at the school. A little man, whose face,
beard, and hair all seemed the same reddish color, was looking
over a pile of letters in the corner of the room. He now glanced
up at me curiously as I began my inquiries about the Partitur
Lesen [score reading] class of which I had read in the catalogue.
You know that five years ago women were not allowed to study
counterpoint at the conservatory. In fact, anything more advanced
than elementary harmony was debarred. The ability of the femi¬
nine intellect to comprehend the intricacies of a stretto,1 or cope
with double counterpoint in the tenth, if not openly denied,
was severely questioned. The counterpoint class is now open to

1. In a fugue, the imitation of the subject in close succession.

1 8 20- 1 9 2 0 221

women, although as yet comparatively few avail themselves of

the opportunity. Formerly, too, all the teachers in the conservatory
were men, but one finds today two women enrolled as professors
among the forty on the list.
"I should like to enter the Partitur Lesen class," said I inno¬
cently, not then having learned all this.
Stavenhagen looked back at the little man. The little man
looked back at Stavenhagen. If I had thrown a bombshell they
could not have appeared more startled. The little man at once
abandoned his letters and stood staring, a few feet in front of
me.
"There have never been any women in the class. I am right,
am I not, Herr Sekretariat?" said Stavenhagen.
"You are right, Herr Direktor," responded the other. He held
his hands behind him and gazed at me as one might at a curious
species of animal. I felt I ought to be tagged, like those poor
creatures in the zoo. "Rare. From North America."
"Is the class full, Herr Sekretariat?" inquired Stavenhagen.
"About thirty men have registered, Herr Direktor," solemnly
answered the secretary.
There was a pause.
"Have you ever played string quartets from score, Fraulein?"
inquired the director.
"Yes, Herr Direktor," said I, with that supreme calmness which
comes at times when one is inwardly much disturbed. Again there
was a pause. Even I began to be impressed with the solemnity
of the occasion.
"Of course," said the director, "because a Fraulein never has
joined the class is no reason why a Fraulein never can."
"Not at all," said the secretary. The gravity of his expression
was worthy of a crisis in the affairs of state.
The two men walked to the other side of the room, and while
they conversed in whispers I stood gazing out of the window at
the equestrian statue in the Platz, unable to hide the smile at
the corners of my mouth. Although conscious of my many pecu¬
liarities, I had never before considered myself an abnormal being,
and to be so regarded struck me as amusing.
It seemed to take them a long time to come to a decision.
 111 WOMEN IN MUSIC

When my impatience had subsided to a state of hopelessness,

Stavenhagen came forward.
"Your request is unusual, Fraulein," he began, "but—but—
well, you may come on Friday at three o'clock."
With a sign of relief I bowed myself out in approved German
fashion, feeling as might the immortal Napoleon after a hardwon
victory.

8 November, Munich
I will acknowledge that I felt rather strange on the first meeting
of the score reading class, when, on entering the room with a
score of Haydn's symphonies under my arm, I encountered the
astonished gaze of thirty pairs of masculine eyes. You could have
heard a pin drop, the place was so still, as I walked by the different
groups and took a seat near the window. Then a low whispering
started among the students. Evidently I had created a sensation.
A moment later the big door opened and Stavenhagen came in.
Everyone rose, or straightened himself up at once. With a little
nod which seemed to include us all, the director took his seat
by the piano and the lesson began. Each one was called on to
play a number of bars written in four different clefs, the old
soprano, the tenor, the alto, and the bass—Stavenhagen selecting
a new chorale each time. It was not till near the end of the hour
that he called my name. Just as I took my seat before the keyboard,
feeling intensely nervous and fearing lest my fingers tremble visi¬
bly, I heard one of the men smother a laugh. That settled it! I
was bound to do or die, and with a calmness quite unnatural I
played the bars set before me without a mistake. Nobody laughed
when I had finished, and now that the first shock is over, the
students treat me with upmost courtesy. Indeed, they seem to
have accepted me as inevitable, although occasionally I catch one
of them staring at me with an expression which says so plainly
as words: "What on earth does a woman want of score reading?"
C*r-
39 A COROLLARY TO THE QUESTION: SEXUAL
AESTHETICS IN MUSIC CRITICISM

As a corollary to the "woman composer question," critics

of the late nineteenth century developed a system of sexual
aesthetics that analyzed music in terms of feminine and mascu¬
line traits. Feminine music, which women were expected to cul¬
tivate exclusively, was by definition graceful and delicate, full
of melody, and restricted to the smaller forms of songs and piano
music. Masculine music, by contrast, was powerful in effect
and intellectually rigorous in harmony, counterpoint, and other
structural logic. Symphonies, operas, and similarly large-scaled
works lay in the realm of masculine music, and as women in
increasing numbers came to write in large forms they were de¬
cried as venturing beyond their proper sphere.
Two reviews of Amy Marcy Beach's Gaelic Symphony, in E
minor, op. 32—the first symphony by an American woman—
provide initial examples of the application of sexual aesthetics
for this reading. Beach's symphony in the post-Brahmsian tradi¬
tion was first performed by the Boston Symphony Orchestra
on October 30, 1896, and in his response the noted critic Philip
Hale is generally enthusiastic. Hale does, however, attribute
what he finds as excessively heavy orchestration in parts of
the score to Beach's feelings of inferiority as a female composer.
A second reviewer of an 1898 performance faults Beach's logic
and contrapuntal skill, while noting especially the womanly
grace and delicacy of the Siciliana or scherzo movement. Thus
the system of sexual aesthetics found both virtues and defects
in a composition by a woman to be the inevitable result of
her gender.

Philip Hale, "Mrs. Beach's Symphony Produced Last Night in Music Hall," Boston
Sunday Journal, Nov. 1, 1896, p. 2.
224 WOMEN IN MUSIC

MRS. BEACH'S SYMPHONY PRODUCED LAST NIGHT

IN MUSIC HALL

... It is fortunately not necessary to say of the "Gaelic" sym¬

phony, "This is creditable work for a woman." Such patronage
is uncalled for, and would be offensive. Nor is it necessary to
say, "A praiseworthy endeavor." The endeavor is of little impor¬
tance. The result is more to the purpose.
. . . Let me say frankly that this symphony is the fullest exhibi¬
tion of Mrs. Beach's indisputable talent. I think it should be
ranked as a whole above her Mass [op. 5], which was performed
by the Handel and Haydn [Society]. The themes themselves may
or may not be of importance,- we will talk this over together later;
certainly the treatment of them in the first, second and fourth
movements often excites honest admiration and gives genuine
pleasure. I except the slow movement for it seems to be the most
labored and at the same time the weakest.
First of all, this music, as a rule, sounds well. For the jest is
true, that there is music which is better than it sounds. Charming
ideas of Schumann, for instance, are often shockingly dressed
in orchestral robes. But in this symphony of Mrs. Beach's there
is the evidence of orchestral instinct rather than the suspicion
of loose experimenting. . . . Mrs. Beach wrote in this instance
as though she were sure of the effects she had thought out. You
do not at once feel that piano music has been fitted this way
and that way and anyway to the orchestra.
Occasionally she is noisy rather than sonorous. Here she is
eminently feminine. A woman who writes for orchestra thinks,
"I must be virile at any cost." What Saint-Saens said of Augusta
Holmes is true of the sex.
Of the four movements, the second stands out in sharpest relief.
There is plenty of good stuff in the first,- there is an elemental
swing as well as a force that almost approaches grandeur in the
finale, there are many excellent things in the detail on which I
would fain dwell, but the scherzo is to me the most complete,
rounded and truly musical of the movements.
Mrs. Beach, who was applauded heartily, acknowledged the
tribute of the audience modestly.
1820-1920 225

BOSTON SYMPHONY CONCERT

The symphony of Mrs. Beach is too long, too strenuously

worked over, and attempts too much. Its composer is a Boston
lady of musical ability, a pianist, and the possessor of a good
memory. Almost every modern composer has left a trace in her
score, which in its efforts to be Gaelic and masculine end in
being monotonous and spasmodic. The second movement is the
most unfeigned, although the first starts out bravely enough and
the last, which contains good material, is spun out. The slow move¬
ment is unqualifiedly tiresome, for the composer never knows
where to stop. Mrs. Beach scores with a generous eye for color,
and that color soon becomes cloying. What she says in her work
has been said a thousand times before, and better said, yet there
is no gainsaying her industry, her gift for melody—even "Du
lieben Augustine" is not forgotten—and her lack of logic. Contra-
puntally she is not strong. Of grace and delicacy there are evi¬
dences in the Siciliana, and there she is at her best, "But yet a
woman."

The English composer Ethel Smyth, whose formative years

are the subject in Reading 24, specialized in opera. A review
of the New York performance of her Der Wald (The Forest) in
1903 at the Metropolitan Opera demonstrates another theme
in sexual aesthetics: A woman did not compose well—rather,
she composed 'dike a man."

A NEW OPERA IN NEW YORK

Not as the music of a woman should Miss Smyth's score be

judged. She thinks in masculine style, broad and virile. She has
fully mastered the modern orchestral mode. Her melodic vein
is pronounced. Its contours are bold and straight. There is no
seeking after phrases with which to please the groundlings. And
there is no timidity in avoiding the obvious harmony and the
hackneyed progression. . . .

"Boston Symphony Concert," Musical Courier 36/8 (Feb. 23, 1898): 29-30.
"A New Opera in New York," Musical Courier 46/11 (Mar. 18, 1903): 12.
226 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Miss Smyth's instrumentation avoids the leaning towards violin

episodes in unison, so noticeable in the orchestral works of other
women—[Cecile] Chaminade and [Augusta] Holmes, for in¬
stance. The orchestra is used as a unit, and its separate factors
are combined with cleverness and several times with exceedingly
good counterpoint. . . . Her climaxes are full-blooded, and the
fortissimos are real. There is no sparing of brass, and there
is no mincing of the means that speak the language of musical
passion. In this respect (and it is not the only one) the gifted
Englishwoman has successfully emancipated herself from her
sex.

Performers were also subject to the yardstick of sexual aesthet¬

ics, among them pianist Teresa Carreho, who built and sustained
an international career of great renown in the 1890s until her
death in 1917. The formidable program Carreho played that occa¬
sioned the review excerpted here consisted of Chopin’s Sonata in
B minor, op. 58, the Schumann Sonata no. 2 in G minor, op. 22,
Edward MacDowell’s Sonata in E minor, op. 59 (“Keltic”), and a
group of Liszt pieces.

CARRENO WELCOMED IN CHICAGO

Madame Carreho comes to us again at the height of her artistic

powers. Age seems to have no further hold over her except to
steady the exuberant fire of her earlier years into the unflickering
glow of heated anthracite. She has passed on beyond the heights
of virtuosity to the realm of pure art, and has reached a place
where that poise comes which should be called mastery. But this
is not quite the word; there is in that word some taint of masculin¬
ity, and Madame Carreho is the finest type of the "eternal femi¬
nine." There is in her playing the mental grasp, the breadth of
conception, which the male would arrogate to himself as his pecu¬
liar attribute, and yet her playing, no matter how full and rich
in artistic insight, is womanly, with that charm, that tenderness,

Chicago Evening Post, Nov. 5, 1909, quoted in "Carreno Welcomed in Chicago,"

Musical Courier 59/22 (Dec. 1, 1909): 10.
1820-1920 227

that sensibility, which is her crown. There should be some word

coined for those women who reach the heights of art where they
are the peers of men, but, praised be the fact, still with that
untouched which marks the woman.
■
1920-1981
A Patron and an Educator

40 ELIZABETH SPRAGUE COOLIDGE:

PATRON OF CHAMBER MUSIC

Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge was known as the "Patron

Saint" and the "Lady Bountiful of Chamber Music," and her
contribution was crucial to the establishment of a chamber mu¬
sic tradition in the United States. During her lifetime, and indeed
still, her name has been synonymous with top-caliber perfor¬
mances of the best repertory, both contemporary and from the
past. Coolidge (1864-1953) began her work in musical philan¬
thropy only at the age of fifty-two, in 1916, when the death
of her parents and her husband left her with a considerable
fortune. The Sprague family wealth was made in the wholesale
grocery business in post-Civil War Chicago, where Elizabeth
was born and raised. She trained as a pianist and also studied
composition, and although she appears not to have considered
pursuing either field professionally, this background was invalu¬
able for her later activity as a patron. During the years of her
marriage to a Chicago surgeon, Coolidge fostered music through
the musicales she gave in her home.
In assuming virtually a second career at middle age, Coolidge
found a new significance for her life, and over the next forty
years and more she combined patronage with management and
performance, plus friendship with her many beneficiaries. Near
the end of her career she gave a retrospective talk, in which
she described how the range of her philanthropies had broadened
in time. Excerpts from this speech are presented below.

Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge, Da Capo (Washington, D.C.: Library of Congress, 1952).

pp. 1-5, 7-9. Reprinted by permission of the Music Division, Library of Congress.
232 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Thirty-five years ago, while I was living in New York, 1 received

a letter from a total stranger in Chicago, saying that he, as a
member of the Chicago Orchestra, was playing quartets with oth¬
ers of the same body, and felt that, with the aid of a sponsor,
they might become a first-class organization. He had been given
my name as one who might possibly be interested in such a project.
(In parenthesis, let me say that Chicago was my birthplace; that
my father had been one of the sponsors of its orchestra,- that I
had played with it under its founder, Theodore Thomas, and
had lately established in it a pension fund in memory of my
parents, both recently dead. I suppose that these facts had brought
my name to this artist's attention.)
The artist in question was Hugo Kortschak, who told me, later
that he had felt uncertain that I would even reply to his letter.
However, I was very much interested. I had been listening,
with great pleasure, to the regular performance of the Flonzaley
Quartet, in the New York home of Mr. Edward de Coppet, whom
I envied such a privilege and whom I later consulted about such
a responsibility.
I therefore replied to Mr. Kortschak that, as I was shortly going
to Chicago to assist in the settlement of my mother's estate, I
would be happy, while there, to listen to his quartet.
How well I remember their exciting performance of the Cesar
Franck!1 It has never thrilled me more than on that unique occa¬
sion in 1916. Before I left Chicago I had signed with these artists
a three-year contract. They were to play for and with me in Pitts¬
field, my summer home, and at my New York apartment in winter.
So, they arrived in Pittsfield in June 1916, and played the first
notes in a program which has expanded for thirty-five years, until
it has long-since outstripped my original thought and has carried
me with it into a wonderful experience.
I called them "The Berkshire Quartet"; (one sarcastic fiddler
asked me, "why not the Park Avenue Quartet?"). On alternate
Sundays we invited the neighbors to listen. In Pittsfield the experi¬
ment was entirely novel to many,- there arose some comments
and questions such as, "how many players are there in your quar-

1. Quartet in D major, M. 9.
1920-1981 233

tet?" "Will the wives join, later, as it grows?" "Are the meals
included?" A [Ildebrando] Pizzetti composition was reviewed in
North Adams as having been written by "an Italian named Pizzi-
cati." But many sophisticated visitors also came to us, and by
the time we left Berkshire for New York the new quartet was
welcomed as a sincere and high-minded addition to our musical
life.
Their agreement with me was that they should not play publicly
until, by their concentrated practice, they should have reached
a satisfactory level of excellence. Their rehearsals, which I regu¬
larly attended, were held in my music-room. You can imagine
what an education this was for me, whose musical idiom had
hitherto been so largely formed by keyboard standards. I had
never before so well understood the possibilities of abstract music.
Mr. and Mrs. Kortschak, for one season, occupied an apartment
communicating with mine (it had been my mother's at the time
of her sudden death, and was left at my disposal). This meant
very easy access, for the quartet, to my own quarters. At an early
hour on the morning of one October 30th—my birthday—I was
awakened by the sound of Percy Grainger's quartet arrangement
of "Molly on the Shore." My rooms looked out upon a courtyard
around which was built the ten-storied apartment-house. Delight¬
ful as was this early serenade, I had a few misgivings as to the
reaction of my surrounding neighbor cliff-dwellers. What was my
relief, at its close, to hear from the windows the sound of
spontaneous applause!
And so the time went happily by; winters in New York, sum¬
mers in Pittsfield. In 1917 there occurred an event which, al¬
though inconspicuous at the time, introduced a new motif into
our work. Dr. Frederick Stock, the conductor of the Chicago Or¬
chestra and one of my dearest friends, with his wife and daughter,
visited me in Pittsfield, and, of course, listened to the playing
of my Berkshire Quartet. Frederick had taken part in the Litchfield
County Festivals in Norfolk, Connecticut. He was eager to have
me see the famous "shed" in which these were held, and to
meet Mr. and Mrs. Stoeckel [Carl and Ellen Battell], who had
built and sponsored it and whom I had not as yet known.
So, one day, we drove over to their home and were cordially
234 WOMEN IN MUSIC

received and personally conducted about the estate, including

the vast shed.
Sitting at dinner that evening and discussing the significance
of Mr. Stoeckel's work, Frederick made the casual remark that
he wished my Quartet might be heard at one of those festivals.
I, as casually, replied—"Why go so far? Why not have our own
festival at our own home?" But the casualness was short-lived.
I did not forget the suggestion and, although I only spoke very
privately about it to the members of the Berkshire Quartet, I
secretly pondered the idea and elaborated it in my imagination
until I had secured the permission of my son to build a music
hall and some artists' bungalows on South Mountain, his Pittsfield
property. I then engaged an architect to design and a contractor
to build the structures which are still standing and functioning
on that romantic hill-top. A year later, in September 1918, we
gave the first Berkshire Festival and, with it, inaugurated the main
section of my "magnum opus," to which the foregoing events
had been but the prelude.
It took place but two months before the armistice of 1918.
All our thinking and acting had been geared to war since April
1917; it was truly wonderful to see, gathered together in peace
and enjoyment, the representatives of nations still in deadly com¬
bat; Italian Ugo Ara and Austrian Fritz Kreisler, each of whom
had fought against the other's country; German Emmeran Stoeber
and French Georges Longy, listening in appreciation each to the
other's music, Hungarian [Artur] Harmat playing Russian music,
Austrian Kortschak leading his Quartet through a prize-winning
Polish composition.
Our first notes, in which I joined my Berkshire Boys, were
those of the Star-Spangled Banner; and then, after five highly
serious concerts of classical, romantic and modern chamber music,
we ended our Festival by dancing a Virginia Reel to the accompani¬
ment of Strauss waltzes, played by Richard Epstein on an upright
piano in the old bar in the Wendell basement. Epstein, by the
way, was a son-in-law of Eduard Strauss.2

2. The brother of Johann Strauss, Jr., the “Waltz King," and also a composer.
1 9 20- 1 98 1 235

In this way, then, we initiated, on our mountain, a series of

yearly Chamber Festivals. I established prize-competitions and
commissions, from which beginning scores of fine works have
since resulted, among them compositions by Bloch, Loeffler, Mar-
tinu, Malipiero, Milhaud, [Ildebrando] Pizzetti, Respighi, [Al¬
bert] Roussel, Schonberg, Stravinsky and many prominent Ameri¬
cans, both North and South. We have presented such artists as
Harold Bauer, Alfredo Casella, [Ossip] Gabrilowitsch, Myra Hess,
[Georges] Enesco, [Lionel] Tertis, [Efrem] Zimbalist; the Flonza-
ley, London, Gordon, Kolisch, Lenox, Letz and Roth Quartets;
Longy, [Georges] Barrere and [Georges] Laurent brought their
wind-ensembles. For the prize competition of 1920 we received
136 manuscript entries,- from America, England, Canada, Belgium,
Holland, Germany, Austria, Spain, France, Italy, Poland, Czecho¬
slovakia, Yugoslavia, Hungary, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland and
Argentina. I mention these statistics in order to indicate the wide
and unexpected response which, in a very short time, was evoked
by my more or less unplanned project. Indeed the interest became
so widespread that my good friend, Ugo Ara, urged me to extend
my program beyond Pittsfield, suggesting that I repeat, in his
country—Italy—some of the outstanding music that had origi¬
nated on South Mountain.
With his executive help and Alfredo Casella's musical manage¬
ment, therefore, there began the next development in my plans
for chamber music, namely the giving of Festivals both at home
and abroad.
In 1923 the first foreign one was held at the American Academy
in Rome and oh, what fun it was! Here, during the evenings at
the old Hotel de Russie, situated at the foot of the Pincian Hill,
was often gathered a musical group comprising Malipiero, Respi¬
ghi, Casella and de Falla; the first class of resident Fellows in
Music,—Howard Hanson, Randall Thompson and my protege,
Leo Sowerby,- my New York friends, Kurt Schindler and the Misses
[Lillian] Littlehales and [Gladys] North, of the former Olive
Mead Quartet; and, of course, Mr. Ara and Mr. Felix Lamond,
founder and head of the Music Department. On a grand piano
in my pleasant parlor, they would sometimes play over for me
236 WOMEN IN MUSIC

their recent compositions. I particularly remember de Falla, ren¬

dering with his little short hands, a very effective piano version
of his "Nights in the Gardens of Spain," recently composed for
piano and orchestra. Or, between rehearsals, we would drive to
Frascati for lunch; or, at midnight, visit the Colosseum by moon¬
light. De Falla, however, was more apt to seek a church, to pray
while we others amused ourselves. . . .

By 1924 Coolidge had become convinced that her aims regard¬

ing the Berkshire Festival needed to be institutionalized and
impersonalized. She found such an institution in the Library
of Congress, where she established the Elizabeth Sprague Cool¬
idge Foundation in 1925.

It was following this concert [at the 1924 Berkshire Festival]

that I received a suggestion which led to the solution of the prob¬
lem about the future of my Festival. I had asked Frank Bridge
and his wife to remain awhile in America and, for relaxation
after our strenuous three days, to take a motor trip with me.
After a visit to Southern Virginia, we stopped at Washington,
and, as sight-seers, were invited to take luncheon at the "Round
Table"—a gathering of the Chiefs of Divisions in the Library of
Congress, presided over by its wonderful Librarian, Dr. Herbert
Putnam. Naturally, the conversation turned to the recent Berk¬
shire Festival. I happened to be seated next to a certain Dr. Moore
[Charles Moore, Manuscripts Division], who, while chatting
about my musical affairs, rather pointedly asked me if I might
not consider giving some such music to the Library of Congress.
The only equipment for such a prospect seemed, at that time,
to be an upright piano upon which, in the basement, music might
be tried out or practiced. However, when, the following Spring,
I sent to the Library two chamber programs, Dr. Putnam borrowed
from the Smithsonian Institution a delightful little auditorium
in the Freer Gallery, and there my Pittsfield players opened a
series of three concerts which, later, led to the establishment of
the Coolidge Foundation and thus found a way to insure the
perpetuation of my Festivals; the little Coolidge Auditorium, with
1 9 2 0- 1 9 8 1 237

a Skinner organ, was built into a corner of one of the courts of

the Library; a fund was accepted by President Coolidge and the
Congress, and our first Washington Festival was given in October
1925. (Let me add—that both the Librarian and the Congress
had to be persuaded; the former by a warm friend of mine and
of music; the latter by the Librarian himself!) I was asked if,
according to Congressional usage, I wished the inauguration to
be opened with prayer. I replied that I felt it more impressive
to present Mr. Loeffler's beautiful setting of St. Francis's "Canticle
of the Sun," surely a more exultant hymn of praise and devotion
than would be likely to issue from the Senate or the House of
Representatives! . . .
In my opinion, the most significant—because the most con¬
structive—work of the Foundation is its so-called extension con¬
certs, performed at educational institutions,- of these we share
the expense. Thus we not only reach and educate hundreds of
students, creating a future public for the best music, but also
enlarge the opportunities of artists and institutions. From both
these groups we have had hundreds of applications.
Another Foundation achievement which much pleased me was
the broadcasting of chamber programs at a time when the radio
stations, some of the artists and even Dr. Engel himself were
not enthusiastic. Three networks—Columbia, National and Mu¬
tual—yielded to Carl's pressure, as he had yielded to what he
called my "enlightened obstinacy." This was before the habit
of broadcasting serious music, which is now so universal, had
become fashionable; and, in the year 1934/35 they gave nineteen
broadcasts which we sponsored. Some conservatives feared this
radio competition with personal appearances; but I believe that
it ultimately increased their audiences.
Still another outcome of my festivals, in both Pittsfield and
Washington, deserves mention; namely, the numbers of interest¬
ing compositions which have originated from them. These were
begun by the prize-winning or commissioned works on the Pitts¬
field programs,- but their numbers were augmented by gifts to
me or by works written for special occasions.
238 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge.

41 NADIA BOULANGER:
TEACHER OF COMPOSERS

The French musician Nadia Boulanger (1887-1979) was

an extraordinary teacher of composers for almost seventy years,
and in this capacity she had a profound influence on American
music from the 1920s to the 1950s. Boulanger came from a family
of musicians: her father and her grandfather taught at the Paris
Conservatory; her mother was a professional singer and Nadia's
first teacher. Boulanger trained at the Paris Conservatory herself,
concentrating in organ and composition, and upon graduation
she won second place in the Prix de Rome competition in 1908.
It was in teaching, however, that she found her vocation. As
a member of the faculties of the Conservatory, the Ecole Nor-
male, also in Paris, and the American Conservatory at Fontaine¬
bleau, Boulanger taught harmony, composition, and orchestra¬
tion, and in addition she had a large class of private pupils
drawn from all over the world. One of the first Americans to
seek her tutelage was Aaron Copland, who, in 1960, wrote this
tribute.

AARON COPLAND: "NADIA BOULANGER;

AN AFFECTIONATE PORTRAIT"

It is almost forty years since first I rang the bell at Nadia Boulan¬
ger's Paris apartment and asked her to accept me as her composi¬
tion pupil. Any young musician may do the same thing today,
for Mademoiselle Boulanger lives at the same address in the same
apartment and teaches with the same formidable energy. The

Aaron Copland, "Nadia Boulanger: An Affectionate Portrait/' Harper’s Magazine, Oc¬

tober I960, pp. 49—51. Reprinted by permission of the Aaron Copland Fund for Music,
Inc.
240 WOMEN IN MUSIC

only difference is that she was then comparatively little known

outside the Paris music world and today there are few musicians
anywhere who would not concede her to be the most famous
of living composition teachers.
Our initial meeting had taken place in the Palace of Fontaine¬
bleau several months before that first Paris visit. Through the
initiative of Walter Damrosch a summer music school for Ameri¬
can students was established in a wing of the palace in 1921
and Nadia Boulanger was on the staff as teacher of harmony. I
arrived, fresh out of Brooklyn, aged twenty, and all agog at the
prospect of studying composition in the country that had pro¬
duced Debussy and Ravel. A fellow-student told me about Made¬
moiselle Boulanger and convinced me that a look-in on her har¬
mony class would be worth my while. I needed convincing—
after all, I had already completed my harmonic studies in New
York and couldn't see how a harmony teacher could be of any
help to me. What I had not foreseen was the power of Mademoi¬
selle Boulanger's personality and the special glow that informs
her every discussion of music whether on the simplest or the
most exalted plane.
The teaching of harmony is one thing; the teaching of advanced
composition is something else again. The reason they differ so
much is that harmonic procedures are deduced from known com¬
mon practice while free composition implies a subtle mixing of
knowledge and instinct for the purpose of guiding the young
composer toward a goal that can only be dimly perceived by both
student and teacher. Bela Bartok used to claim that teaching com¬
position was impossible to do well; he himself would have no
truck with it. Mademoiselle Boulanger would undoubtedly agree
that it is difficult to do well—and then go right on trying.
Actually Nadia Boulanger was quite aware that as a composition
teacher she labored under two further disadvantages: she was not
herself a regularly practicing composer and in so far as she com¬
posed at all she must of necessity be listed in that unenviable
category of the woman composer. Everyone knows that the high
achievement of women musicians as vocalists and instrumentalists
has no counterpart in the field of musical composition. This his-
1920-1981 241

Nadia Boulanger
242 WOMEN IN MUSIC

torically poor showing has puzzled more than one observer. It

is even more inexplicable when one considers the reputation of
women novelists and poets, of painters and designers. Is it possible
that there is a mysterious element in the nature of musical creativ¬
ity that runs counter to the nature of the feminine mind? And
yet there are more women composers than ever writing today,
writing, moreover, music worth playing. The future may very
well have a different tale to tell; for the present, however, no
woman's name will be found on the list of world-famous compos¬
ers.
To what extent Mademoiselle Boulanger had serious ambitions
as [a] composer has never been entirely established. She has pub¬
lished a few short stories, and once told me that she had aided
the pianist and composer Raoul Pugno in the orchestration of
an opera of his.1 Mainly she was credited with the training of
her gifted younger sister Lili,2 whose composing talent gained
her the first Prix de Rome ever accorded a woman composer in
more than a century of prize giving. It was an agonizing blow
when Lili fell seriously ill and died in 1918 at the age of twenty-
four. It was then that Nadia established the pattern of life that
I found her living with her Russian-born mother in the Paris of
the twenties.
Curiously enough I have no memory of discussing the role of
women in music with Mademoiselle. Whatever her attitude may
have been, she herself was clearly a phenomenon for which there
was no precedent. In my own mind she was a continuing link
in that long tradition of the French intellectual woman in whose
salon philosophy was expounded and political history made. In
similar fashion Nadia Boulanger had her own salon where musical
aesthetics was argued and the musical future engendered. It was
there that I saw, and sometimes even met, the musical great of
Paris: Maurice Ravel, Igor Stravinsky, Albert Roussel, Darius Mil-

1. More correctly, Boulanger finished Pugno's incidental music to Gabriele

D'Annunzio's La citta morta.
2. Although this has been a common assumption, Nadia gave Lili only a few
lessons, in the summer of 1911. See Leonie Rosenstiel, The Life and Works of
Lili Boulanger (Rutherford, N.J.: Farleigh Dickinson University Press, 1978), pp.
47-49.
1920-1981 243

haud, Arthur Honegger, Francis Poulenc, Georges Auric. She was

the friend of Paul Valery and Paul Claudel, and liked to discuss
the latest works of Thomas Mann, of Proust, and Andre Gide.
Her intellectual interests and wide acquaintanceship among artists
in all fields were an important stimulus to her American students:
through these interests she whetted and broadened their cultural
appetites.
It would be easy to sketch a portrait of Mademoiselle Boulanger
as a personality in her own right. Those who meet her or hear
her talk are unlikely to forget her physical presence. Of medium
height and pleasant features, she gave off, even as a young woman,
a kind of objective warmth. She had none of the ascetic intensity
of a Martha Graham or the toughness of a Gertrude Stein. On
the contrary, in those early days she possessed an almost old-
fashioned womanliness—a womanliness that seemed quite un¬
aware of its own charm. Her low-heeled shoes and long black
skirts and pince-nez glasses contrasted strangely with her bright
intelligence and lively temperament. In more recent years she
has become smaller and thinner, quasi nun-like in appearance.
But her low-pitched voice is as resonant as ever and her manner
has lost none of its decisiveness.
My purpose here, however, is to concentrate on her principal
attribute, her gift as teacher. As her reputation spread, students
came to her not only from America but also from Turkey, Poland,
Chile, Japan, England, Norway, and many other countries. How,
I wonder, would each one of them describe what Mademoiselle
gave him as teacher? How indeed does anyone describe adequately
what is learned from a powerful teacher? I myself have never
read a convincing account of the progress from student stage to
that of creative maturity through a teacher's ministrations. And
yet it happens: some kind of magic does indubitably rub off on
the pupil. It begins, perhaps, with the conviction that one is in
the presence of an exceptional musical mentality. By a process
of osmosis one soaks up attitudes, principles, reflections, knowl¬
edge. That last is a key word: it is literally exhilarating to be
with a teacher for whom the art one loves has no secrets.
Nadia Boulanger knew everything there was to know about
244 WOMEN IN MUSIC

music, she knew the oldest and the latest music, pre-Bach and
post-Stravinsky, and knew it cold. All technical know-how was
at her fingertips: harmonic transposition, the figured bass, score
reading, organ registration, instrumental techniques, structural
analyses, the school fugue and the free fugue, the Greek modes
and Gregorian chant. Needless to say this list is far from exhaus¬
tive. She was particularly intrigued by new musical developments.
I can still remember the eagerness of her curiosity concerning
my jazz-derived rhythms of the early twenties, a corner of music
that had somehow escaped her. Before long we were exploring
polyrhythmic devices together—their cross-pulsations, their nota¬
tion, and especially their difficulty of execution intrigued her.
This was typical, nothing under the heading of music could possi¬
bly be thought of as foreign. I am not saying that she liked or
even approved of all kinds of musical expression—far from it.
But she had the teacher's consuming need to know how all music
functions, and it was that kind of inquiring attitude that registered
on the minds of her students.
More important to the budding composer than Mademoiselle
Boulanger's technical knowledge was her way of surrounding him
with an air of confidence. (The reverse—her disapproval, I am
told, was annihilating in its effect.) In my own case she was
able to extract from a composer of two-page songs and three-page
piano pieces a full-sized ballet lasting thirty-five minutes. True,
no one has ever offered to perform the completed ballet, but
the composing of it proved her point—I was capable of more
than I myself thought possible. This mark of confidence was
again demonstrated when, at the end of my three years of study,
Mademoiselle Boulanger asked me to write an organ concerto
for her first American tour, knowing full well that I had only a
nodding acquaintance with the king of instruments and that I
had never heard a note of my own orchestration: "Do you really
think I can do it?" 1 asked hopefully. "Mais oui" was the firm
reply—and so I did.
Mademoiselle gave the world premiere of the work—a sym¬
phony for organ and orchestra—on January 11, 1925, under the
baton of Walter Damrosch. My parents, beaming, sat with me
 in a box. Imagine our surprise when the conductor, just before
beginning the next work on the program, turned to the audience
and said: "If a young man, at the age of twenty-three, can write
a symphony like that, in five years he will be ready to commit
murder!" The asperities of my harmonies had been too much
for the conductor, who felt that his faithful subscribers needed
reassurance that he was on their side. Mademoiselle Boulanger,
however, was not to be swayed; despite her affection for Mr.
Damrosch she wavered not in the slightest degree in her favorable
estimate of my symphony.
All musicians, like the lay music-lover, must in the end fall
back upon their own sensibilities for value judgments. I am con¬
vinced that it is Mademoiselle Boulanger's perceptivity as musi¬
cian that is at the core of her teaching. She is able to grasp the
still-uncertain contours of an incomplete sketch, examine it, and
foretell the probable and possible ways in which it may be devel¬
oped. She is expert in picking flaws in any work in progress,
and knowing why they are flaws. At the period when I was her
pupil she had but one all-embracing principle, namely, the desira¬
bility of aiming first and foremost at the creation of what she
called "la grande ligne"—the long line in music. Much was in¬
cluded in that phrase: the sense of forward motion, of flow and
continuity in the musical discourse; the feeling for inevitability,
for the creating of an entire piece that could be thought of as a
functioning entity. These generalizations were given practical ap¬
plication: her eye, for instance, was always trained upon the move¬
ment of the bass line as controlling agent for the skeletal frame
of the harmony's progressive action. Her sense of contrast was
acute; she was quick to detect longueurs and any lack of balance.
Her teaching, I suppose, was French in that she always stressed
clarity of conception and elegance in proportion. It was her broad¬
ness of sympathy that made it possible for her to apply these
general principles to the music of young men and women of so
many different nationalities.
Many of these observations are based, of course, on experiences
of a good many years ago. Much has happened to music since
that time. The last decade, in particular, cannot have been an
 Dl i/dU^{pM^ \/&u loptYt. u)/
cth'*'}* ^*/
> Wy/jT ^w ^
uin$>/4~ ~fkj/ ^
M-flt^AC-e ^
fi-^yewf'
vWii
246 / WOMEN
W O M F W IN
IN MUSIC
1

easy time for the teacher of composition, and especially for any
teacher of the older generation. The youngest composers have
taken to worshiping at strange shrines. Their attempt to find new
constructive principles through the serialization of the chromatic
scale has taken music in a direction for which Mademoiselle
showed little sympathy in former years. The abandonment of
tonality and the adoption of Webernian twelve-tone methods by
many of the younger Frenchmen and even by Igor Stravinsky
in his later years cannot have been a cause for rejoicing on the
Rue Ballu. And yet, I have heard Mademoiselle Boulanger speak
warmly of the music of the leader of the new movement, Pierre
Boulez. Knowing the musician she is, I feel certain that she will
find it possible to absorb the best of the newer ideas into her
present-day thinking.
In the meantime it must be a cause for profound satisfaction
to Mademoiselle Boulanger that she has guided the musical des¬
tiny of so many gifted musicians: Igor Markevitch, Jean Frangaix,
and Marcelle de Manziarly in France,- Americans like Walter Pis¬
ton, Virgil Thomson, Roy Harris, Marc Blitzstein, among the older
men, Elliott Carter, David Diamond, Irving Fine, Harold Shapero,
Arthur Berger among the middle generation, and youngsters like
Easley Blackwood during the fifties.
In 1959, when Harvard University conferred an honorary degree
on Nadia Boulanger, a modest gesture was made toward recogni¬
tion of her standing as teacher and musician. America, unfortu¬
nately, has no reward commensurate with what Nadia Boulanger
has contributed to our musical development. But, in the end,
the only reward she would want is the one she already has: the
deep affection of her many pupils everywhere.

Oc / / * )

cf4u^\pwi
MU.1} l fjAAuh

/V)lU)C7
Women in the Orchestral Field
from the 1920s to the 1940s

42 WOMEN’S SYMPHONY ORCHESTRAS

During the 1920s and 1930s American women musicians

formed organizations and became increasingly vocal about the
status of women in the field. In composition, the Society of
American Women Composers was founded in 1924, with Amy
Marcy Beach as its first president. The society was dedicated
to the advancement of music written by women, and it sponsored
festivals of performances until the Depression curtailed its activ¬
ities in 1929.
Among performers, an important development was the estab¬
lishment of close to thirty women's symphony orchestras, which
were founded to give trained women employment and profes¬
sional experience, since the standard all-male orchestras contin¬
ued to exclude women from their ranks.1 Unlike the earlier
lady orchestras, the women's symphonies typically had full com¬
plements of eighty or more players, and they specialized in the
performance of strictly symphonic repertory. The majority of
the new groups had female conductors, who also aspired to work
in the symphonic field.
Conductor Frederique Petrides reported on the progress of
women orchestral musicians in her newsletter Women in Music
between 1935 and 1940, when funds for publication became
exhausted. In capsule form this newsletter traces the activities
of women's orchestras across the United States and abroad in
London, Paris, and Vienna, together with women's rising de¬
mands for the “mixed" orchestra, made up of men and women

1. Carol Neuls-Bates, 'Women's Orchestras in the United States, 1925-45/' in

Women Making Music: The Western Art Tradition, 1150-1950, ed. Jane Bowers and
Judith Tick (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1986), pp. 349-50.
248 WOMEN IN MUSIC

chosen on the basis of ability. Here are three representative selec¬

tions from Petrides's newsletter.

CALIFORNIA CITY SPONSORS WOMEN

Long Beach, Calif., July 20 [1935]

Since the fall of 1930, the city of Long Beach has played sponsor
to its local woman's orchestra—thus winning for itself the distinc¬
tion of being the first and only city in the world to support the
undertaking of musicians on the distaff side.
The Long Beach Woman's Orchestra was organized in 1925.
There are 102 experienced players in its ranks now, and plans
for the coming season include the addition of about 25 more
members to the personnel. Its record includes more than 100
public concerts; also participation in over 1000 programs through
its various ensemble units.
The group was started as a cooperative association with member-
players contributing for its maintenance. This policy was contin¬
ued until the time when the City's Recreation Commission created
a special tax allotment for the support of the venture. The public
funds set aside for the orchestra take care of expenditures for
new orchestrations, the purchase of heavy instruments, rehearsal
halls, advertising, and arrangements.
Miss Eva Anderson, the orchestra's conductor, has presided over
the group for the last nine and a half years. This forceful and
gifted artist is a graduate of the Beethoven Conservatory of Music
in St. Louis. She has also studied under Dr. Howard Hanson of
the Eastman School of Music.

"BE LESS PERSONAL," CHICAGO URGES

Chicago, Ill.
"Women's orchestras must not merely play well; they must
strive to play better than other orchestras if they are going to
be successful musical ventures," says the credo of Miss Ebba Sund-

Frederique Petrides, ed.; Women in Music 1/2 (August 1935).

Frederique Petrides, ed.; Women in Music 1/4 (November 1935).
1 9 2 0- 1 9 8 1 249

strom, conductor of the Women's Symphony Orchestra of Chi¬

cago. Another tenet of this credo is that women players, although
patient, hard-working, and gifted, must, nevertheless, learn how
to be a little less personal and emotional about their jobs.
If these days find Miss Sundstrom's orchestra in the class of
the constantly developing musical groups, the answer for such
growth and increasing recognition is given by its goal for the
achievement of a uniform perfection.
It is an admitted fact, indeed, that this Women's Symphony
Orchestra has developed a tone and that its work has a distinct
individual personality. It is also a fact that a number of its players
could easily stand comparison with the first class men in any
good orchestra. Despite these achievements, however, Miss Sund-
strom is not fully satisfied. A uniform perfection will be possible
only after some of her players will no longer be new to their
instruments, she has told a newspaper interviewer.
The Women's Symphony Orchestra of Chicago was founded
in 1925. It is composed of 100 players, and back in 1928 had
functioned for some time under the leadership of Ethel Leginska.
It plays regularly during each successive season. It goes frequently
on the air, an activity which probably makes it the best known
of all women's orchestras in America.

"NO GOOD REASON" FOR BAN ON WOMEN

Like a good many other American writers on music and musi¬

cians, William J. Henderson, the Dean of New York music critics,
who died last month, was in favor of including women in orches¬
tras. His authoritative voice was raised more than once in behalf
of women as conductors and orchestral players. The following
comments on the subject were printed in his New York Sun col¬
umn on Saturday, November 16, 1935. Quoted in parts they read:
"There is no good reason why women should not be employed
in orchestras. The chief question to be asked is whether they
can play as well as men. After that other considerations may be

Frederique Petrides, ed., Women in Music 3/1 (July 1937).

250 WOMEN IN MUSIC

taken up. Can a conductor enforce discipline among the women

as well as he can among the men, or will they have recourse to
the defense of tears when the hard-hearted one addresses the
instrumental body in merciless rebuke? Can women endure the
severe strain of long and repeated rehearsals? These as well as
other questions become individual rather than general. All a con¬
ductor needs to know is not whether women can fill all of the
requirements, but whether the particular woman can, whom he
contemplated engaging."
"Are there female performers on all kinds of instruments? Cer¬
tainly. . . . Now there must have been a fine spirit of enterprise
in the soul of a woman who took up the study of the tympani.
How many jobs are there for the female tympanist? What is the
outlook for the female bassoonist? Does anyone wish to see a
woman playing the bass drum or an E-flat tuba? ..."
"Well it is all a matter of custom. Students in such institutions
as the Juilliard School of Music see women playing in their orches¬
tra continually and think nothing of it."
43 AMERICAN WOMEN DEMAND
"MIXED" ORCHESTRAS

By the late 1930s American women orchestral players

had found some acceptance in secondary-lev el orchestras and
in the free-lance groups that were on the rise in major centers.
This success, coupled with the fact of having proved themselves
through the women's symphonies, prompted some women play¬
ers to go on the record demanding that all orchestras—especially
the major orchestras—be mixed institutions. In Chicago and
New York, organizations were formed in 1938 to publicize the
need for better professional opportunities for women. The New
York Times report about the first open meeting of the New York
group constitutes this short reading. Ultimately, it was the draft
during World War 11 that depleted the ranks of men and thereby
made possible the entrance of female players of all instruments
into the major symphony orchestras and orchestras in opera,
radio, and the movie and recording industries. Once the mixed
orchestra became the rule, there was less need for the all-female
group, and most women's symphonies did not survive the war
years.

May 19, 1938, New York Times

WOMEN MUSICIANS URGE EQUAL RIGHTS

Full Opportunity for Jobs is Asked at Rally of New

Organization Here

Full opportunity of employment for professional women musi¬

cians was proclaimed as a right yesterday morning at the first

"Women Musicians Urge Equal Rights," New York Times, May 19, 1938,
p. 24.
252 WOMEN IN MUSIC

mass meeting of the six-week-old Committee for the Recognition

of Women in the Musical Profession. Nearly 125 women musi¬
cians heard invited speakers and officers of the group discuss
organizational plans and programs to combat "an unjust discrimi¬
nation" for which, according to one speaker, "there was absolutely
no reason except habit."
The first speaker, Antonia Brico, conductor of the New York
Women's Symphony Orchestra, protested against the existing
prejudice as regards engaging women in leading musical organiza¬
tions.
"The law, medicine, economics, politics, and many other profes¬
sions are open to women," she said. "Why then should not music
be equally open to them? There is no lack of opportunity to
study, what with tuitionless schools, music colleges, private teach¬
ers. And the union admits us to its ranks. But what after that?
Where shall we work, when so many organizations will not only
not accept us, but not even give us auditions?"
Jean Schneider, the committee's director of organization,
stressed that the group's two main present considerations were
the recognition of women's rights within the Musicians Union
and the bringing of the problem to the attention of the public.
As to the first, she proposed the resolution, which was unani¬
mously passed, that women take a greater active part in the union.
It is to the second consideration, Ruth Wilson, director of public
relations, reported that various clubs and societies that have been
informed of the committee's grievances have offered support. . . .
44 THREE MUSICIANS RECALL THEIR
CAREERS: ANTONIA BRICO,
FREDERIQUE PETRIDES, AND
JEANNETTE SCHEERER

Antonia Brico, Frederique Petrides, and Jeannette Scheerer

are three musicians who made important contributions to the
advancement of American women in the orchestral field from
the 1920s through the years of World War II: Brico and Petrides
as conductors, and Scheerer as a clarinetist and for several years
also as a conductor. Women, of course, were active as conductors
of the Damen and lady orchestras of the nineteenth and early
twentieth centuries—for instance, Caroline B. Nichols, who is
a subject in Reading 31. The emergence of women conductors
of symphonic and chamber orchestras, however, was a new phe¬
nomenon that occurred in the United States beginning in the
1920s.
Not surprisingly, the new group of women conductors found
more opportunities in conducting women's symphony orchestras
than standard all-male groups. Being a conductor and directing
large numbers of people in one's own interpretation of great
artistic works is an authoritative and prestigious position to
say the least, and even as of this writing the number of female
conductors is small. When she began, in 1930, Antonia Brico ob¬
tained a string of guest conducting dates with major all-male or¬
chestras in Europe as well as America, but she enjoyed her longest
tenure in the period under discussion as head of the New York
Women's Symphony Orchestra. Petrides and Scheerer worked
solely with the women's groups they founded, also in New York.
Scheerer was actively chiefly as a clarinetist, and when she began
the instmment was considered unusual for women. She was an
254 WOMEN IN MUSIC

early contender in the mixed orchestra, where she typically occu¬

pied the first clarinetist’s chair.

Antonia Brico: Conductor

This interview with Antonia Brico took place at the time of

her May 1976 appearance with the American Symphony Orches¬
tra at Carnegie Hall. The engagement was one of many that
resulted for her after the 1974 documentary about her career
entitled Antonia: Portrait of the Artist, which was made by Judy
Collins, a former piano student of Brico's, and Jill Godmillow.
As interviewer, I was particularly interested in events the film
didn't document—above all, why and when Brico left New York
and relocated in Denver, where she was still teaching and con¬
ducting the Brico Symphony Orchestra, a semiprofessional group.
For as the film indicates, with the disbanding of the New York
Women’s Symphony Orchestra, Brico no longer had a regular
showcase, and in general the demise of the women’s orchestras
during and after World War II meant fewer and less prestigious
opportunities for women conductors, since they were not typi¬
cally hired to conduct mixed groups.
Antonia Brico was a 1923 graduate of the University of Califor¬
nia at Berkeley in piano, and she subsequently played in orches¬
tral and chamber ensembles on radio in the San Francisco area.
After further piano studies with Sigismund Stojowski in New
York from 1925 to 1927, she received a fellowship that enabled
her to realize her youthful ambition to train as a conductor
in Berlin.

In all I spent six years in Germany, from 1927 to 1932, although

I came back to the States in 1930 to make my American debut
at the Hollywood Bowl. I was the first American to graduate from
the [Staatliche] Hochschule fur Musik in Berlin. As 1 recall
twenty people applied to the Hochschule in conducting when I

Antonio Brico and Carol Neuls-Bates, Interview May 15, 1976. Used by permission of
Elizabeth Jans.
1920-1981 255

did, and two of us were accepted on the basis of competitive

exams—a young man and myself. . . .
The whole German conducting field was based on the premise
that once you completed your training you would embark on
the "route" through the different opera houses, and this route
called for you to play for rehearsals at the piano and to coach
the singers. A conductor would progress, say, from being the third
conductor in a small opera house to the second conductor in a
larger house, then perhaps back to a small house as first conductor,
and so forth up the ladder. I am quite sure I could have followed
that route if World War II had not intervened.
I returned to the United States in September 1932 for the simple
reason that all the foreigners were booted out of Germany by
the Hitler business, which was getting very serious. I was very
poor at the time, and I remember that Iris Pactrez was one of
the people who sent me money to buy my passage home. And
so I arrived in New York in the height of the Depression with
thousands of musicians out of work! I had spent years and years
training; I had conducted in Berlin, Hamburg, Hollywood Bowl,
San Francisco, Warsaw, Lodz, Posnan, and Riga; and yet I had
no opportunities forthcoming to me at that time. I even owed
money for the trip back.
I went to [the offices of] Musical America, just to ask ques¬
tions. There was a wonderful person working there at the time
by the name of Ludwig Wielich, and I came in very shyly and
told Mr. Wielich that I had some press notices from Berlin, Riga,
and cities in Poland that I wanted to have translated. Well, he
started to read the reviews, and then he said, "Something should
be done about you." "Yes, what?" I answered.
I don't believe things happen by accident; there is a scheme
behind events, I think. I asked Ludwig Wielich why I couldn't
become one of the conductors then being featured in a series of
orchestral concerts at the Metropolitan Opera House sponsored
by the Musicians Emergency Fund. He told me that Mrs. Olin
Downes handled the concerts and that Mrs. Sidney Prince, the
wife of the then-current head of the New York Stock Exchange
and many times a millionaire, would be a good person from whom
256 WOMEN IN MUSIC

to seek help. Would I come back in a week's time after he had

had a chance to talk with Mrs. Prince? Well, of course I went
back, and then at Mrs. Prince's invitation I visited her at her
Park Avenue apartment (fifteen rooms and all very spacious!)
to tell her of my pressing need to obtain one of the concerts
with the Musicians Symphony Orchestra. -

Mrs. Prince guaranteed Brico $500, provided that Brico match

the amount, and as a result Brico was able to conduct the Musi¬
cians Symphony for two concerts. She was denied a third concert
because John Charles Thomas, the baritone who was already
scheduled, would not perform under a female conductor.

In those days wealthy people often took on proteges, and I

was Mrs. Sidney Prince's protegee for the year 1933. Naturally
I worshipped her, and why shouldn't I have done so under the
circumstances? She took me to concerts, insisted that I come to
her apartment for meals on occasion because she worried that I
wasn't eating sufficiently, and she bought me a dress to wear
for my appearances with the Musicians Symphony. I remember
the first concert particularly, for I conducted Tchaikovsky's fourth
symphony from a score containing annotations by the composer
himself. The score was lent to me by my piano teacher, Mr.
Stojowski.
In the mid-1930s I was engaged by the WPA to conduct three
concerts a week in the New York City area, and this was thrilling
for me—three concerts a week! On Wednesday afternoons I con¬
ducted at the Museum of Natural History here in Manhattan,
and then on Saturdays I had a children's concert in the morning
at the Brooklyn Museum followed by a concert for an adult audi¬
ence in the afternoon. There was a man in the WPA management
who was not well disposed toward me, and he would program
works for me that were extremely difficult to conduct. I remember
one and that was Debussy's Iberia.
I founded the Women's Symphony [Orchestra of New York]
in mid-1934: "If nine women can play together, then why not
ninety?" That's my line from the film, no? I feel as though I
1920-1981 257

know every line of that movie! The women who made up the
orchestra were all well trained. Some were young; and some had
played a lot like Betty Barry [first trombone] and Muriel Watson
[tympani], both of whom had done a considerable amount of
work in Boston. Lois Wann [first oboe] was a phenomenal oboe
player who has since taught just about everywhere, and my con¬
cert master, Elfrieda Bos Mesteschkin, was an excellent violinist.
So many women in the orchestra were very fine players, but
they had limited opportunities for good engagements. . . .
Once I turned the Women's Symphony into a mixed orchestra
[for the 1938-39 season], the board of directors wasn't interested
any more. The board felt that the "female aspect" of the orchestra
was the interesting feature, and since the orchestra had no other
capital than the board's backing, that was that! I had to look
elsewhere.
I had a manager, so-called, but he really didn't do a thing for
me. All managers had a star and lived off that star,- my manager's
ace card was Georges Enesco, the Rumanian violinist, composer,
conductor, and pianist. Now, in 1940 Hitler wouldn't let Enesco
out of his own Rumania, and as my manager stood to lose a
tremendous income from Enesco's dates he tried to substitute
other people, me included. He wanted to fit me into a conducting
engagement with a semiprofessional orchestra in Denver in De¬
cember 1940, but the Denver people said, "Antonia Brico instead
of Georges Enesco? How horrible!" And they turned him down
flat.

Because of the interest of the head of the hoard of directors

of the Denver Symphony, whom Brico described as a "deter¬
mined and willful" woman, Brico conducted the orchestra on
December 10, 1940, in a program that included Enesco's Ruma¬
nian Rhapsody, op. 11, no. 1.

The board was so enthusiastic that they engaged me tor two

concerts for the following season, one of which was to be the
Brahms Requiem [op. 45] with the University [of Denver] cho¬
rus. As plans developed, it seemed that I would have to be in
258 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Denver for a period of seven months in order to prepare the

chorus for the Brahms, and I could hardly afford to maintain
an apartment in New York in addition. Also, at that time I was
experiencing frightful sinus problems, and Denver's climate was
good for me. (Now we have smog just like everyone else, but
then, no.) And finally, a number of different people on the board
of the Denver Symphony told me that they were about to make
the orchestra a professional one, and that if I came to Denver
they would see that I got the conductorship. Well, that was just
what I wanted—a professional orchestra.
I pulled up stakes in New York, and everyone in Denver was
so glad to see me for the two guest concerts [during the 1941-
42 season]. But when I said wasn't it wonderful that I am going
to live here now, all their faces froze. It became clear that some
people thought that as a permanent resident I would be a great
threat to the local music teachers.
Of course it was difficult to become established in Denver,
but I had burned all my bridges in New York, and I had no
money. I managed though, and some people gave me students
and lecture dates. Yet when it came to the conductorship of the
Denver Symphony, there was no way the board would accept a
woman conductor. I think that's the first time I realized I was
thoroughly persona non grata as a conductor. That's when I hit
the lowest of lows.
Then the conductor1 the board chose came to Denver, and
he fired three-quarters of the orchestra and brought in his own
friends from New York and Philadelphia. The orchestra members
who were left out went to the Musicians' Union and said, "We
want to form a nonprofessional orchestra with both union and
nonunion members, for if we don't continue to play we won't
be able to keep our hands in for even an occasional orchestral
job." And so this nonprofessional orchestra came to me, and it
is the orchestra [later named the Brico Symphony] that I have
been conducting for twenty-eight years, with some changes in
personnel, of course. . . .

1. Saul Caston, an American-born trumpet player, who played with the Phila¬
delphia Orchestra from 1918 to 1945 and also served as assistant conductor.
1920-1981 259

Brico remained active as head of the Brico Symphony Orchestra

and a guest conductor until her retirement in 1985.

Frederique Petrides: Conductor

Frederique Petrides came to the United States from Belgium

in 1923 on a visit, and she liked it so much that she stayed.
Miss Petrides trained originally as a violinist, and she studied
theory and composition with her mother, who had been active
in the 1890s as a concert pianist, composer, and teacher at the
Royal Conservatory of Antwerp. This young woman of the 1890s
was preparing to compete for the Belgium Prix de Rome in com¬
position until dissuaded by her conventional parents, and after
her marriage in 1901 she abandoned her professional career alto¬
gether. It was the waste of her mother's fine talent, Petrides
beheved, that motivated her to work for the advancement of
women musicians as she did in the 1930s and 1940s.

Did you decide to become a conductor at an early age?

Oh yes, but first I became a violinist. I studied with Matthieu

Crickboom, who was an assistant to Eugene Ysaye and the second
violinist in Ysaye's famous string quartet. I played a good deal
of chamber music and heard many great orchestral concerts, and
as a child of nine or ten I played often in the hospitals in Antwerp
for the wounded of World War I. When I came to New York I
taught the violin. My great desire, however, was to become a
conductor, and what a conductor needs is an orchestra to work
with. This I found at New York University, where for several
summers I took a conducting course with a charming man who
had been a pupil of Felix Weingartner. He taught us many of
the things that the great master had told him.
The musicians that took this course made up the orchestra.
Some of them were extremely good players, men from the New

Frederique Petrides and Carol Neuls-Bates, Interview Sept. 2, 1981. Used by permis
sion of Avra Petrides.
260 WOMEN IN MUSIC

York Philharmonic and other fine groups, who wanted to get

degrees. Julia Smith, who was studying piano and composition
at Juilliard, was in the class. We became friends, and together
we made plans for an orchestra of women—the Orchestrette of
New York—that would demonstrate the fine capabilities of
women musicians. That was in 1932.

How large was the Orchestrette, and from where did you draw
the musicians?

It numbered between thirty and forty players, depending on

the work I wanted to program. When we began we had about
twenty-two players, all from Juilliard, and in fact the violin sec¬
tions were made up entirely of pupils or former pupils of Louis
Persinger. As the orchestra grew we added players from the Curtis
and Eastman schools.
I never was interested in promoting a women's orchestra per

Frederique Petrides and the Orchestrette of New York.

1920-1981 261

se. Rather, I saw the Orchestrette as a stepping stone to the mixed

orchestra. It was important to me to show that women could
do fine orchestral work! I wanted also to show that women could
do more than just teach, because teaching at that time was the
major means of livelihood for women instrumentalists [other than
solo work], and if you didn't like teaching, well, that was just
too bad! There simply wasn't any other choice! The one exception
was the female harpist. She could gain entrance to male orchestras,
and it seemed that as long as a conductor could point to the
presence of a woman harpist among his players, he felt he had
done all he should for women.

You received considerable praise in the press for the Orches-

trette's programs. Would you comment on your intentions?

For one thing, I wanted to promote American music, and you

have to remember that in those days very little new music by
Americans was being performed. The Orchestrette premiered and
played works by David Diamond and Norman Dello foio, Aaron
Copland's Quiet City, Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings, and
works by Julia Smith, Ulric Cole, Gian Carlo Menotti, and others.
We also did the first American performance of a beautiful work
by Ralph Vaughan Williams that I discovered: Flos Campi for
orchestra, solo viola, and chorus.
Then there was Paul Creston. He was a fine artist and very
interested in what we were trying to do. Toscanini believed very
much in Creston and played many of his works with the [New
York] Philharmonic. ... I had a timpanist, Ruth Stuber, who
played her instrument very beautifully. She also played the mar¬
imba, and one day she asked me to come and hear her: Mozart,
Bach, violin concertos by Henri Vieuxtemps—all sorts of things!
She made the marimba a beautiful singing instrument! I felt that
this instrument should be heard and have works written for it.
I asked Paul Creston to go and hear her play. He did and was
as impressed as I was, and as a result I commissioned Paul to
write the Concerto for Marimba and Orchestra (1940), which I
premiered with Ruth and the Orchestrette, and which is dedicated
to me. It has been widely performed over the years. Another
262 WOMEN IN MUSIC

fine work that Paul wrote for the Orchestrette was for our tenth
anniversary, The Chant 1942. When Ormandy went to Russia
for the first time with his Philadelphians he took our Chant
and performed it there.
I also did a lot of research. 1 practically lived at the library,
and I found many things by great composers such as Haydn and
Mozart that were rarely played. So the Orchestrette did these
too.

How did you manage to run an orchestra successfully in the

middle of the Depression?

We had five or six concerts a season, which was quite a lot

for those times. And there weren't any foundations or government
agencies to help. Our tickets, as I recall, sold for $1.25, which
was substantial for the Depression. But ticket receipts hardly de¬
frayed a major part of the orchestra's expenses. Really my husband
and I underwrote the orchestra. My husband Peter was a writer,
and I was teaching. You know, I made a great mistake in not
finding outside backing for the Orchestrette at the very beginning.
Because three or four years later—after the orchestra had a fine
performance record and excellent reviews—I did seek support,
and I met with the response that I had carried on thus far without
assistance, so why not longer?
We filled the hall [Carnegie Recital Hall] for every concert
because we had an audience that was really interested in what
we were doing. We had wonderful soloists, such as Lonny Epstein,
who was Carl Friedberg's assistant at Juilliard. She played Mozart
piano concertos with us that had not been played here. She was
a well-known Mozart player in Europe. William Masselos, the
pianist, and Frances Magnes, the violinist, also performed with
us.

Meanwhile, weren't you studying conducting by observing

Dimitri Mitropoulos?

Yes, I met Maestro soon after he came to the [New York]

Philharmonic, and 1 asked him if I could attend his rehearsals.
1920-1981 263

So for years every week I was there, with my scores. The only
way to learn to conduct, I think, is to observe a great conductor,
and Mitropoulos certainly was that. He had a photographic mem¬
ory that was phenomenal! I profited no end from following his
interpretations and from observing the way in which he related
to the men in his orchestra. His example as an interpreter of
all great works—contemporary and classical—was a great inspira¬
tion to me.

Would, you comment about some of the outstanding players

in the Orchestrette of New York?

Well, Lois Wann, the oboist, should certainly be singled out.

When Mitropoulos heard her play he said, "What a pity you
aren't a man, for I would pick you for my orchestra." Hinda
Barnet was our fine concertmistress, Eleanor Kovar our equally
fine bassoonist, Helen Enser, horn, and Eugenie Limberg-Dengel,
viola—just to mention a few. All the women in the orchestra
were such good players that when the war came many found
first-desk positions with major orchestras, replacing men who had
left because of the draft.

Is this why the Orchestrette disbanded in 1943?

Yes, I didn't want to stand in the way of the girls' advancement,

and it would have been difficult to find replacements for them
right away. Besides, at the time the idea of preserving and fighting
for a women's orchestra seemed so insignificant in the face of a
world war and the daily reports of the many terrible tragedies.

Several questions come to mind about your family. You have

mentioned your husband's interest in the Orchestrette. Would
you comment further? Second, as I recall, your daughter was
born in the late 1930s. How did you combine her advent with
your work?

My husband Peter was wonderful and the right man for me.
He was completely supportive in everything I did or tried to do.
264 WOMEN IN MUSIC

He was a newspaper man with a fine publicity sense, and he

managed all the business details of the Orchestrette. Our daughter
Avra was born in 1938, and it was a great joy for both of us to
have this beautiful baby. It was not easy to combine being a
parent and a conductor, but I was fortunate in having a marvelous
Greek woman to look after Avra when she was little.

Would you comment on your newsletter Women in Music,

which you published between 1935 and 1940? I am impressed
with the extent of your coverage on the activities of women
orchestral musicians, both in the women's orchestras and else¬
where.

The conductors of the women's orchestras of the time were

all in touch with me, and I would include information about
what they were doing and about the general interest in orchestras
made up of both men and women. We sent the newsletter to
many, many conductors, major orchestras, to libraries—both here
and in Europe—so as to keep everyone we could informed about
our activities and the need for the mixed orchestra. I was especially
gratified that the newsletter was so widely quoted during its exis¬
tence.
But another important purpose of the newsletter was to report
on the history of women as musicians, a history that goes back
as far as Ancient Egyptian times. I wanted women to feel a sense
of pride in that they had a special tradition. I also wanted to
tell women to keep on working, to assure them they would move
ahead.

Frederique Petrides was encouraged by some to revive the Or¬

chestrette of New York after the war had ended, but she felt
that the women's groups had proved their point: "women could
work well in orchestras and deserved a place alongside of men. "
Petrides went on to conduct several all-male orchestras and then
mixed groups, notably in summer concert series in New York.
From 1961 to 1977 she was director of the West Side Orchestral
Concerts, Inc.
1920-1981 265

Jeannette Scheerer: Clarinetist

At the age of nine, in Cedar Falls, Iowa, Jeannette Scheerer

began piano study with her uncle. She "hated it," although
she later came to appreciate his thorough approach to scales
and other fundamentals. Instead she was enchanted with the
clarinet, which her neighbor was practicing, and she taught her¬
self to play his instrument before her parents bought her one
of her own. Scheerer's first playing job was in a small orchestra
at the local movie theater, two nights a week. She also played
as soloist with the Cedar Falls concert band but was not allowed
to join the band because of being female. Upon her graduation
from high school her family expected Scheerer to attend Iowa
State Teachers’ College, but she was determined to study music,
and with moneys saved from her third summer playing the Chau¬
tauqua circuit she struck out for Chicago in the fall of 1918.

One of the first things I did in Chicago was to go to hear the

orchestras in all the movie theaters. These theaters were palatial—
some could seat 1000 people—and the orchestras played through
the entire film. So I went to hear them all, and I found a job
with one. Next I registered with Joseph Schreurs, who was first
clarinetist with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and so famous!
I started lessons with him, together with classes at the American
Conservatory.

Was this, then, your first formal training as a clarinetist?

Yes, my first formal training. I had played clarinet like a fish

swims, but the first lesson I ever had was with Schreurs. He
helped me right away, and when he saw my wrong fingerings
for the high notes, he said, "What are you doing there?"

Jeannette Scheerer and Carol Neuls-Bates, Interview July 9-10, 1978. Used by permis¬
sion of Shirley Chalmers.
266 WOMEN IN MUSIC

You had devised the fingerings by yourself'?

Yes, and Schreurs said: "That's funny, that [fingering] actually

comes off. How do you get that?" And so he started me out so
that I could obtain perfection as a clarinetist for the first time,
and here I had already played for years in orchestras!
Then I tried out for the Civic Orchestra,1 which was conducted
by Frederick Stock, also the conductor of the Chicago Symphony
Orchestra. I was in that orchestra from 1920 to 1924, and by
the second season I got the first clarinet chair. Mr. Stock seemed
interested in me; he liked my tone.

Were there many women in the Civic Orchestra?

There were about seven of us in the beginning I think, and

in my fourth year the concertmaster was a concertmistress, Mil¬
dred Brown. . . .

Was the Civic Orchestra a good experience for you in terms

of training?

Oh! There was no training in the world like playing in that

orchestra. In the first place, Frederick Stock—and I've played
with many conductors in my life—there was no one who had
an ear like he did. He would give out a chord—for the string
sections, for example—and he would have them hold it at an
even dynamic level; and he could always hear which players varied
the loudness of the tone. In our choir [the woodwinds] he would
try us out on transpositions. And he always made all of us concen¬
trate on the sound of the whole orchestra because then we would
play with one another in tune. He was the likes of a teacher
I've never met again.

1. The Civic Orchestra of Chicago was founded in 1919 as a graduate-level

training orchestra with the aim of enabling more Americans to secure positions
with major orchestras, which were then dominated by European musicians.
1920-1981 267

What did you do when you finished your studies at the Ameri¬
can Conservatory and left the Civic Orchestra ?

Stock got me a post with a friend of his, Theodore Spiering,

another German conductor, in Spiering's Portland Symphony Or¬
chestra.2 I was to be in Portland in September, and so with a jour¬
nalist and a painter-friend from the University of Chicago I took a
leisurely trip west. We fished, we went to Yellowstone [National]
Park—a wonderful trip. And in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho I had a tele¬
gram from Mr. Stock that Theodore Spiering had died in Berlin
of a heart attack, and that plans for the next Portland season had
stymied. Stock said maybe I should come back to Chicago.
But I didn't want to go back to a movie theater orchestra! That
was [supposed to be] my first post in symphony work, and Mr.
Stock had always said I must play in a symphony—that "Oh! it
was so hard for him to get a place for a girl." That was true: he
had trouble finding positions for all the women in the Civic [to
move on to]. And he often wrote to newspapers saying that all
orchestras should be opened to women. It was such a waste of
fine talent and training, he said.

Eventually Scheerer decided to go to San Francisco.

I had written to my folks to send my trunk, and the day the

trunk came I finally had some decent clothes to wear; so I went
into the city to look for work. We went to this cafeteria that had
an orchestra, and I set my tray down in front of the group. They
were playing a potpourri of light classical things, and [when they
had finished] I clapped and said, "Fine, but you need a clarinetist,
don't you?" This is how I met Mary Passmore,*3 a fine violin¬
ist, who was the orchestra's conductor. So I got a good
2. Spiering was an American-born violinist and conductor. Scheerer's remembrance
of him as being German is telling of the 1920s.
3. Mary Passmore and her sister Dorothy Passmore, a cellist, were among the four
female string players who joined the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra with the
1925-26 season, thus becoming the first women to be hired by a major American or¬
chestra.
268 WOMEN IN MUSIC

job right away at $60 a week and two meals a day. Like everything
else it came from the sky, and I never questioned.
After a year or so Mary and I joined the newly organized orches¬
tra at CBS radio, Station KFRC, where 1 was first clarinet. . . .
By the late 1920s everyone was playing the Bohm clarinet, while
I was a little behind this new mode with the old-fashioned Albert
system. [I decided to make the change] and while I was waiting
for my new instruments to come from Paris—it took about six
months—I made a vacation trip to visit my parents. And of course
I went on to Chicago to see Frederick Stock, and he said: "Jean¬
nette, you still have five months free! Why don't you go to
Europe? I've always said you should hear German orchestras.
You must go to Berlin, and I'll give you letters of recommenda¬
tion."

Scheerer personally picked up her new clarinets in Paris and

then traveled to Berlin.

To whom were Stock's letters of recommendation for you ad¬

dressed?

One was to a conductor and one to just a friend, about me

and how I played wonderful clarinet. The one to the conductor
said that I should get acquainted with people with whom I could
go to all the operas and hear everything I wanted to hear. The
other to the friend asked that person to find me a pension near
the Hochschule [fur Musik] and to "keep Jeannette away from
any place where English was spoken."
I went to the Hochschule, got the two letters out, and made
apologies for my faulty German. They were very nice, and they
liked me at the Hochschule. I sat in on some classes, and I went
to all the operas and the theater—all week, every week I was
busy. I got acquainted with Professor [Alfred] Richter [clarinetist
at the Hochschule], and he said: "You should keep your old
German clarinet." "Well, I know that," I said, "but in America
you are out of date if you don't have a Bohm." Richter asked
me why I didn't stay on at the Hochschule, and I told him that
1920-1981 269

I had to be back in San Francisco at a certain date, and besides

I didn't have a lot of money. "You should take the entrance
examination," Professor Richter said. "The Hochschule costs only
150 marks each semester, and the experience might be very inter¬
esting for you." In the end I stayed, until 1932.

Were you working for a degree?

No, I didn't have to any more [after the American Conserva¬

tory]. I played a lot of chamber music—especially Hindemith; I
played soloist a lot, but being a foreigner I couldn't get into an
orchestra. I did play first clarinet in the Hochschule orchestra,
though.

It was while you were at the Hochschule that you studied

conducting, wasn't it?

Professor [Julius] Priiwer, the head of the Conductor's Studio,

thought that I should pursue conducting, and I was suggested
for a scholarship. But I had been at the Hochschule for such a
long time already, and the conducting course took six years to
complete. So I didn't want that. I studied conducting for fun,
though, on the side, with Robert Robischeck, the founder and
director of the Berlin Bach Choir for many years. I played chamber
music with him, and I studied conducting with him. Studying
conducting was fun!

What happened next? Did the Hitler business send you home?

Yes, things were getting pretty hot in 1932. So I came back

to New York, and what did I see? I didn't know anything about
this [the Depression]. I had never written many letters and kept
in touch with people in the States. The Germans were badly off,
but I had had enough money to get along while I was there, so I
guess I didn't notice more. Now that I was back in New York—
with all my savings used up—I was suddenly in the same boat.
I didn't want to stay in New York, I had every intention of
270 WOMEN IN MUSIC

returning to San Francisco, since that's where I knew everybody.

Well, on the first night I was in New York, a violist friend whom
I had met on board ship said, "Come with me tonight and go
to a very interesting place, the Leventritts' house." Do you know
the Leventritts?

1 know of the Leventritt competition.

Mr. [Edgar] Leventritt was a great lover of music, and he played

very good piano. He always had a houseful of the best players,
such as Ernest Silverstein, Legara, Joseph and Lillian Fuchs, Lily
Kroll, Arthur Balsam, Erica Morini, William Kroll and his quartet,
the Musical Art Quartet, Maria Roemaet-Rosanoff, Sascha Jacob¬
sen. It was a beautiful house!
I stayed in New York because every Sunday I went to the
Leventritts' to play. He gave all sorts of music there. I remember
I played the second Weber [clarinet] concerto [in E-flat major,
op. 74] and also the Weber [clarinet] quintet [in B-flat major,
op. 34], the Brahms clarinet quintet [in B minor, op. 115], and
so much more. The Leventritts insisted, "You can't go to San
Francisco. New York is the market place for music. You must
stay here." So, what could I do? They got me engagements on
the radio. I played solos; I played everything there was to play.
But still I was a woman.

You must he referring to orchestral jobs. Did you try to join

a symphony orchestra in New York?

Oh, I tried. But there really wasn't anything open. . . .

And despite the hard times of the Depression you were able
to put together a salary?

It was so. I have never liked to teach, but I went to the City
and Country School and taught clarinet there a bit. . . . Then
President Roosevelt [i.e., the WPA] started two symphonies here
1920-1981 271

New York: the Civic and the Federal. I played first clarinet in
the Civic.

How often did a WPA orchestra like the Civic play?

We played two concerts every week, and we had conductors

from all over the world. The one I liked most was from Leningrad,
Eugene Plotnikoff. The Civic was a pretty good orchestra.

Meanwhile, didn't you help Antonia Brico to organize the

New York Women's Symphony Orchestra?

Brico came back from Germany in 1932, a little before I did,

I think. Soon after, she conducted a concert or two with the
Musicians Symphony Orchestra at the Metropolitan [Opera
Flouse], in which I played first clarinet. There were maybe five
women in that orchestra—Francis Blaisdell was first flutist, I re¬
call—but the work was not permanent.
Brico told us that if she could get a women's orchestra together
[as she planned], it would be the first time in New York that a
women's group could depend on a stable contract for a season's
work. But oh!, did that ring a bell with every woman musician
in New York. It was easy to get players for the orchestra. . . .
But with such great demands as "Carnegie Flail only," the largest
possible orchestra, extensive publicity and all, the expenses for
the orchestra must have been very high at that time, because
Brico had to tell her board of directors that the girls would be
"content" if only they could earn $10 a concert! Several of us
lost interest and quit after three concerts.

What about your own orchestra, the New York Women's

Chamber Orchestra, which you started and conducted in 1937?

Yes, I think it was 1937. My idea was that we might eat a

little better, and that a small orchestra of twenty-eight players
and myself, with less expenses [than the New York Women's
Symphony Orchestra] would be viable. We just got together,- they
272 WOMEN IN MUSIC

were the best musicians, so we didn't have to rehearse very much.

. . . We made our debut in Town Hall on October 12, 1937,
with success!—and no agents or advertising, so to speak. Thanks
to Mrs. H. A. Guinzberg, the small deficit of $387 was paid,
and the hall was filled. The Leventritts' friends were all there,
and many others, and we all thought that the orchestra would
be offered a radio or recording job very shortly. But the best
thing we got were the two tours of eastern colleges that Arthur
Fiedler couldn't play [with his Boston Pops Orchestra] in the
1939-40 season. When we came back, my wealthy aunt, who
owned one of the largest pharmaceutical firms in Iowa, wanted
to help me, and so we were able to give a concert in Carnegie
Recital Hall [on November 28, 1940].

Tell me about some of the players in the orchestra. As I recall,

many in your group broke into the major orchestras in the late
1930s through World War 11. 1 know some of their names.

I hope you do know their names. Ellen Stone was a great horn
player, and she went to Pittsburgh. The timpanist, Muriel Watson,
went to New Orleans, and the head of the second violins, Gertrude
Buttrey—she played a lot in New York and with the Stuttgart
ballet. They were all fine players: Elfrieda Bos Mesteschkin, our
concertmistress; Francis Blaisdell and Ruth Freeman, flutists,- Jean
Schneider, a cellist.
I thought the orchestra could get more dates than it actually
did. But then, I'm not the best person when it comes to day-to-
day business details. I thought the manager I picked was wonder¬
ful, but that proved not to be the case. . . . My aunt said I
had to get this conducting bug out of my head.

In 1941 Jeannette Scheerer joined the New Orleans Symphony

Orchestra as first clarinetist, the first woman to hold such a
post with a major American symphony orchestra. She also played
with the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra and the Kansas City
Symphony Orchestra before relocating permanently in Germany
in 1953.
An American Pioneer for Minorities

45 MARIAN ANDERSON: CONTRALTO

Reading 21 traces the concert career of the black Ameri¬

can soprano Sissieretta Jones in the late 1880s and 1890s, a
career that was necessarily brief, since the novelty of black per¬
formers among white audiences faded within several years.
When contralto Marian Anderson (born 1908 in Philadelphia)
began to seek recognition, in the 1920s, her situation was some¬
what different: black musicians were associated with jazz and
not thought capable of excelling in art music. Anderson broke
down this prejudice and, by her example, paved the way for
younger generations of black artists, notably as singers. Ander¬
son used income from church jobs to pay for voice lessons, and
her early professional engagements were at black colleges in
the South. She won a vocal competition against 300 contestants
that awarded her a debut with the New York Philharmonic at
Lewissohn Stadium in 1925, but despite the favorable reviews
she received on this and other occasions, it was not until she
returned from successful concert tours in Europe in 1935 that
she was generally acknowledged as a major talent in the United
States.
In 1939 the Daughters of the American Revolution refused
Anderson's request to hire Constitution Hall because of her
color. In protest, a distinguished group of citizens headed by
Eleanor Roosevelt sponsored a concert for Anderson at the Lin¬
coln Memorial, which was attended by 75,000 people. Anderson
describes this momentous event in the following excerpt from
her autobiography. Only in 1955 did she make a Metropolitan
Opera debut, the first ever by a black.

From My Lord, What a Morning, by Marian Anderson (New York: Viking Press, 1956),
pp. 187-91. Copyright © 1956, renewed 1984 by Marian Anderson. Used by permis¬
sion of Viking Penguin Books USA Inc.
274 WOMEN IN MUSIC

The excitement over the denial of Constitution Hall to me

did not die down. It seemed to increase and to follow me wherever
I went. I felt about the affair as about an election campaign,-
whatever the outcome, there is bound to be unpleasantness and
embarrassment. I could not escape it, of course. My friends wanted
to discuss it, and even strangers went out of their way to express
their strong feelings of sympathy and support.
What were my own feelings? I was saddened and ashamed. I
was sorry for the people who had precipitated the affair. I felt
that their behavior stemmed from a lack of understanding. They
were not persecuting me personally or as a representative of my
people so much as they were doing something that was neither
sensible nor good. Could I have erased the bitterness, I would
have done so gladly. I do not mean that I would have been pre¬
pared to say that I was not entitled to appear in Constitution
Hall as might any other performer. But the unpleasantness dis¬
turbed me, and if it had been up to me alone I would have sought
a way to wipe it out. I cannot say that such a way out suggested
itself to me at the time, or that I thought of one after the event.
But I have been in this world long enough to know that there
are all kinds of people, all suited by their own natures for different
tasks. It would be fooling myself to think that I was meant to
be a fearless fighter; I was not, just as I was not meant to be a
soprano instead of a contralto.
Then the time came when it was decided that I would sing
in Washington on Easter Sunday. The invitation to appear in
the open, singing from the Lincoln Memorial before as many
people as would care to come, without charge, was made formally
by Harold L. Ickes, Secretary of the Interior. It was duly reported,
and the weight of the Washington affair bore in on me. . . .
... 1 studied my conscience. In principle the idea was sound,
but it could not be comfortable to me as an individual. As I
thought further, I could see that my significance as an individual
was small in this affair. I had become, whether I liked it or not,
a symbol, representing my people. I had to appear.
I discussed the problem with Mother, of course. Her comment
was characteristic: "It is an important decision to make. You are
1920-1981 275

Marian Anderson
276 WOMEN IN MUSIC

in this work. You intend to stay in it. You know what your
aspirations are. I think you should make your own decision."
Mother knew what the decision would be. In my heart I also
knew. I could not run away from this situation. If I had anything
to offer, I would have to do so now. It would be misleading,
however, to say that once the decision was made I was without
doubts. . . .
We reached Washington early that Easter morning and went
to the home of Gifford Pinchot, who had been Governor of Penn¬
sylvania. The Pinchots had been kind enough to offer their hospi¬
tality, and it was needed because the hotels would not take us.
Then we drove over to the Lincoln Memorial. Kosti was well
enough to play,1 and we tried out the piano and examined the
public-address system, which had six microphones, meant not
only for the people who were present but also for a radio audience.
When we returned that afternoon I had sensations unlike any
I had experienced before. The only comparable emotion I could
recall was the feeling I had had when Maestro Toscanini had
appeared in the artist's room in Salzburg. My heart leaped wildly,
and I could not talk. I even wondered whether I would be able
to sing.
The murmur of the vast assemblage quickened my pulse beat.
There were policemen waiting at the car, and they led us through
a passageway that other officers kept open in the throng. We
entered the monument and were taken to a small room. We were
introduced to Mr. Ickes, whom we had not met before. He out¬
lined the program. Then came the signal to go out before the
public.
If I did not consult contemporary reports I could not recall
who was there. My head and heart were in such turmoil that I
looked and hardly saw, I listened and hardly heard. I was led
to the platform by Representative Caroline O'Day of New York,
who had been born in Georgia, and Oscar Chapman, Assistant
Secretary of the Interior, who was a Virginian. On the platform

1. Kosti Vehanen, a Finnish pianist, was Anderson's accompanist for many

years. Initially her manager, Sol Hurok, had strong reservations about the appro¬
priateness of Anderson's having a white accompanist in the United States.
1920-1981 277

behind me sat Secretary Ickes, Secretary of the Treasury [Henry]

Morgenthau [Jr.], Supreme Court Justice [Hugo] Black, Senators
[Robert] Wagner, [James] Mead, [Alben] Barkley, [D. Worth]
Clark, [Joseph] Guffey, and [Arthur] Capper, and many Repre¬
sentatives, including Representative Arthur W. Mitchell of Illi¬
nois, a Negro. Mother was there, as were people from Howard
University and from churches in Washington and other cities.
So was Walter White, then secretary of the National Association
for the Advancement of Colored People. It was Mr. White who
at one point stepped to the microphone and appealed to the crowd,
probably averting serious accidents when my own people tried
to reach me.
I report these things now because I have looked them up. All
I knew then as I stepped forward was the overwhelming impact
of that vast multitude. There seemed to be people as far as the
eye could see. The crowd stretched in a great semicircle from
the Lincoln Memorial around the reflecting pool on to the shaft
of the Washington Monument. I had a feeling that a great wave
of good will poured out from these people, almost engulfing me.
And when I stood up to sing our National Anthem I felt for a
moment as though I were choking. For a desperate second I
thought that the words, well as I know them, would not come.
I sang, I don't know how. There must have been the help of
professionalism I had accumulated over the years. Without it 1
could not have gone through the program. I sang—and again I
know because I consulted a newspaper clipping—"America," the
aria "O mio Fernando,"2 Schubert's "Ave Maria," and three spiri¬
tuals—"Gospel Train," "Trampin'," and "My Soul Is Anchored
in the Lord."

2. From Donizetti's La favorita.

The "Woman Composer Question"
Revisited

l6 ETHEL SMYTH: "FEMALE PIPINGS

IN EDEN"

On the occasion of Ethel Smyth's seventy-fifth birthday

in 1933, plans for a festival of her works were announced, and
Smyth, quite delighted with this recognition, responded with
the essay Female Pipings in Eden, in which she analyzed the
difficulties confronting the female composer of her time. While
she was, of course, influenced by her friend Virginia Woolf's
A Room of One's Own (1929),* 1 Smyth was no newcomer to
feminism. Throughout her career she championed the needs of
women to aspire and achieve, and from 1911 to 1913 she devoted
her total energies to the suffrage movement. This experience
had a profound influence on her life, as the excerpts from Female
Pipings, below, indicate. Her song "The March of the Women"
was the trademark of the English suffrage movement, which
proved successful in 1918.
Smyth's vantage point in Female Pipings is England early in
the twentieth century, where she felt that the lack of a rich
musical life and the absence of a native tradition of great com¬
posers posed still greater problems for the aspiring composer
than elsewhere in Europe. Her premise that women must have
access to musical institutions and the machinery of the music
world, however, applies to all geographical locales and time
periods.

Ethel Smyth, Female Pipings in Eden (London: Peter Davies, 1933), pp. 3-5,
7-12, 14-16, 19-20, 24-29, 31-32. Reprinted by permission of the publisher,
William Heinemann Ltd.
1. Correspondence between Woolf and Smyth in March through August 1933,
Berg Collection, New York Public Library.
1920-1981 279

FEMALE PIPINGS IN EDEN

Chapter I

(a) Introductory

Lecturing the other day at King's College, London University,

on what will turn out to be the theme of this study, I had the
pleasure of introducing to a young and learned audience a hitherto
unedited legend. I am a little vague as to its exact provenance,
but what matter, when authenticity is so triumphantly established
by internal evidence?
The legend relates that one afternoon while Adam was asleep,
Eve, anticipating the Great God Pan, bored some holes in a hollow
reed and began to do what is called 'pick out a tune.' Thereupon
Adam awoke; 'Stop that horrible noise,' he roared, adding, after
a pause, 'besides which, if any one's going to make it, it's not
you but me.'
Here the cuneiform inscription, or palimpsest, or whatever it
is rather gives out, but among still decipherable words are 'unwom¬
anly' . . . 'sex-appeal' . . . and (this almost illegible) 'L-l-th.'
Whence one gathers that Eve's refusal to stop the noise drove
Adam to set up a second female companion.
If this story shows what kind of encouragement women musi¬
cians met with when the world was in its swaddling clothes,
the following pages will prove that all down the ages every possible
facility for pursuing music as a career has been withheld from
us; not so much by malice prepense (though in latter days there
has been some of that too!) as by the turn our civilisation seemed
bound to take . . . anyhow did take. Yet in spite of this, the
fact that up to now there have been no great women composers
has often been commented on with surprise. Indeed I myself
am perpetually being asked how I account for it.
Now the reply is so closely connected with the nature of the
musical world—a matter about which general ignorance is pecu¬
liarly dense—that I shall presently jump with both feet plumb
280 WOMEN IN MUSIC

into the centre of the subject and endeavour to show what a

complicated art music is, and what difficulties the study of it
involves. I think any one will then be able to make a shrewd
guess as to the fate of such foolish women as dare to set sail on
these troubled waters, more especially as creators, and will also
understand one's despair when for the millionth time the old,
old question is propounded—with an air, too, of being such a
facer that you are evidently expected to retire from the field in
disorder!
Occasionally I have put the true answer in a nutshell by retort¬
ing: 'There are no great women composers for the same reason
that there are no female Nelsons!' whereupon the interlocutor
says no more but looks both puzzled and unconvinced. I hope
to prove this is no mere verbal flourish, but a sober, reasoned
reply to a natural, but, given the circumstances, rather provoking
question.
(b) The Main Thesis
My main argument is, that as things are to-day it is absolutely
impossible in this country for a woman composer to get and to
keep her head above water; to go on from strength to strength,
and develop such powers as she may possess. But first I should
like to define my attitude towards this state of things, and explain
that if I deserve an encomium recently handed me in the Press
of being an ardent but good-natured fighter in the cause of
women, it is not owing to kindliness but to reason. The situation
appears to me quite inevitable, given, firstly, an ingrained racial
conservatism that enabled parliamentarians to persist in the crimi¬
nal injustice of taxing the voteless more than sixty years after
John Stuart Mill had pointed out that thereby one of the most
fundamental principles of our constitution was being violated,-2
given, secondly, the fact that unlike Germany and Italy, England
has had no great line of composers during the last two centuries,
and consequently is bereft of a musical tradition that nothing
but abundance of creative genius in a people can beget,- and,
2. Mill introduced the first petition in favor of women's suffrage to the English
Parliament in 1867.
1 920- 1 9 8 1 281

thirdly, given very elementary facts of human nature which will

be discussed in a later section of this study.
I am convinced too that few men realise how differently from
themselves women are placed in the musical world, which is
not surprising. How many of us are capable of profound X-ray
insight on any question whatsoever, let alone on one that doesn't
interest us? I could name one or two men who know the truth,
but these discreetly keep their knowledge to themselves, for, after
all, can you expect males to fight and suffer all the results of
unpopularity for a cause that does not affect one single man; or
rather, which, if successful, might affect some of them rather
unpleasantly?

Chapter II: Women's Training Hitherto

To begin at the beginning. Nowadays, in all departments of human

effort, the first necessities are, a thorough training, followed by
untrammelled opportunities for exercising the trade you have
learned. In the past, now and again a situation could be rushed
by unskilled individuals of genius, but in the twentieth century
Joan of Arc could hardly have superseded Marshal Foch; nor will
any contend that holiday canoeing on the South Coast, or even
lifelong practice in rowing and punting on the Thames, is suffi¬
cient to turn out a female Drake or Cook.
Now up to quite recent times the excursions of women into
the world of music have not been much more extensive than
the above seafaring operations. To-day there are as many fine
violinists of one sex as of the other,- but in the latter part of
the nineteenth century I can recall only one eminent woman
fiddler, [Wilma] Norman-Neruda,- and I doubt if her brilliant
progress round Europe would have been a certainty if [Joseph]
Joachim had not been big enough and shrewd enough to see the
spectacular advantage of playing Bach's double concerto [in D
minor, BWV 1043] with a violinist of genius who was also a
very graceful woman. As for the professional female orchestral
282 WOMEN IN MUSIC

player, the idea of such a being had hardly risen above the horizon
in the early years of this century; and 1 well remember that no
one looked on Lady Folkestone's String Band of women-amateurs
as an outlet for serious musical energy and passion, but merely
as an aristocratic fad,3 a resource for such bored and elegant ones
as to-day eke out the hours with feeble bridge.
By and by, students at our musical colleges began clamouring
to learn stringed instruments, and presently half the string band
consisted of girls. Later on the mouthpiece of certain wind instru¬
ments was permitted to insert itself between feminine lips, and,
to cut a long story short, to-day there is not an instrument in
the orchestra that is not taught to female musical students. Some
of the best wood-wind players in the country are women, though
horns and the bass-brass are still unpopular, perhaps because these
are rather damp instruments. But the big brass is always placed
well at the back of the orchestra, and as women cough and sneeze
with less abandon than men (which is a mercy, for otherwise
this planet would be uninhabitable), so my sex may find a way
of blowing down tubes more dryly than males seem able to do.
Anyhow, if Dame Clara Butt and other fine broad-chested contral¬
tos one could name had taken to orchestral playing, what wonders
they might have done on the Bass Tuba!
I cannot remember at what exact moment this important new
move in our training was inaugurated, though of course the war
interrupted it. But in order to master music as a trade more than
that is necessary; you have to be right down in the rough and
tumble of music life, and no sooner did a woman leave college
than she became aware of men's firm intention to keep her out
of that arena. It was too late, of course, to prevent her from
training as an orchestral player,- if she wanted to go on with it,
let her supply hotels and restaurants with jazz and sob-stuff, but
sit on equal terms with them in a first-class orchestra? . . . Never!
Unfortunately to play in a first-class band is one of the main
entrances to that delectable land of rough and tumble where alone

3. Since Lady Folkestone's lady orchestra raised money for the establishment
of the Royal College of Music in the 1880s, its performances must have been
creditable at least.
1920-1981 283

salvation is to be found. There's education for you, if you like!

Just think of it! All the best music, ancient and modern, passes
in procession across your desk; here as nowhere else can you
learn instrumentation, phrasing, conducting, rhythm,- here the
beautiful workaday part of your vocation gets into your blood
automatically and gratis. Then, as regards material issues, you
command a good salary, and get innumerable chances of engage¬
ments at Chamber Concerts and private houses, not to speak of
lucrative provincial tours with your band. Finally, as member
of a first-class orchestra you can ask good fees for giving lessons.
Having said which, you will understand why, until a year or
two ago, the men's unions, backed by popularity-hunting and
perhaps honestly prejudiced conductors, contrived to keep women
out of their bands—as some do still.
Needless to say, such training as an incipient woman composer
could squeeze out of teaching school children their notes has
never been begrudged her by men. Nor, since God had made
the initial mistake of creating women as well as men, since great
composers have written for mixed voices, and since men unfortu¬
nately can't sing soprano (except in Italy, where the Pope's band
takes advantage of a peculiar but time-honoured receipt for getting
round this difficulty),4 no one tried to stop women singing in
choruses. Moreover choruses are generally voluntary, and in no
case demand the large fees of orchestral players. But alas! chorus
singing and teaching children their scales is not a very advanced
form of 'education.'
In the days when Henry Wood was a free man and had his
own orchestra, he at once set himself to the task of breaking
down the cruel man-erected barrier between us and orchestral
playing; an act of moral courage for which we can never be grateful
enough.5 I myself have always concentrated on that point, be¬
cause, belonging to the unfortunate class styled by critics 'lady
composers,' I burned with curiosity as to whither woman's wings

4. Smyth seems to refer here to the practice of employing castrati in the papal
choir, which was, in fact, banned by Pius X in 1903.
5. Wood hired women players into his Queen's Hall Orchestra during World
War I and retained them after the war because of their fine performance record.
284 WOMEN IN MUSIC

will carry her once she is free to soar, and had grasped that here
lay the first step towards the liberation of a creative spirit. Few
deny that the Brontes and Jane Austen brought a new note into
our literature. Why then should not our musical contribution
be equally individual and pregnant?—and O I wish I were as
sure of heaven as I am that so it will be! . , .
Little by little the doors of this Hall of Initiation began to
open, and if there was a good deal of creaking, diversified by a
sharp slam now and again worked by those inside, one bore in
mind a dictum of Mrs. Pankhurst's to the effect, that if any Gov¬
ernment were willing to give the vote only to women with red
hair whose name was Eliza, the offer should be jumped at.6 One
was ready to take an instalment; content for the time being if
two or three women were to be descried sitting at the last desks
of the 2nd violins, and of course on the inside row so as not
to obstruct the audience's view of the male who shared her desk
(also perhaps that his shame might be concealed). But as the
season went on (I am speaking of only two or three years ago)
a metamorphosis such as we read of in V. Sackville-West's Or¬
lando took place, only the other way round.7 By degrees these
female back-benchers turned into men; and as in the 'Orlando'
business it seemed impossible to learn how and when and why
the change had come about. This, although no one attempts to
deny that women players are as efficient as men, and often far
keener! Mozart even declared that they have more natural gift
for stringed instruments than males; and one reason he gave was
their greater delicacy of touch, another the readier access of a
conductor to their emotions.
Since the war the female taboo in orchestras has fluctuated
like the money market and exhibits equally baffling features.
For instance the B.B.C. has plenty of women in its fine band—
probably from motives of policy. For in such matters the musical

6. Emmeline Pankhurst was a militant leader in the women's movement in

England.
7. Vita Sackville-West provided the inspiration for Woolf's character Orlando
in her 1928 novel of the same name. Orlando begins life as a male and then
changes to the female sex.
1920-1981 285

colleges have a say, and apart from the Directors of our two leading
educational institutions being conspicuously honourable men, the
fee of a female student is as good money as that of a male. More¬
over a quasi State affair like a Corporation has to avoid 'unpleas¬
antness.'
But here's a strange thing; in that orchestra women 'cellists
are banned! Why, I cannot conceive! If it is a question of physical
strength I can crush adherents of the brute force school by telling
them how Joachim once laughed at me for enquiring if tone de¬
pended on muscle. Of course I knew it didn't, but was setting
a little trap for him into which he obligingly walked,- and when
I went on to ask why, if that was so, women were kept out of
orchestras (this was in the 'nineties) he stared, and then said
slowly: 'Well! I never thought of that point!'
As regards the B.B.C. band, perhaps the attitude of the 'cello
player is considered an unseemly one for women? The B.B.C. is
nothing if not proper, and once men's vicarious sense of modesty
gets to work you never know where it will break out next. In
my youth they strained at that harmless gnat, a girl on a bicycle,-
since then they have had to swallow something far worse than
camels—horses with girls riding them cross-legged! To-day, en¬
gulfed by the rising flood of woman's independence, perhaps they
are clinging to the violoncello as the drowning cling to a spar.
In the other London orchestras, the L.S.O. [London Symphony
Orchestra], the Philharmonic, and also the Halle band, whose
conductor is that admirable musician and professed anti-feminist
Sir Hamilton Harty, not a woman is to be seen, unless occasionally
plucking the strings of the 2nd Harp. The harp being a cumbrous
and rather unlucrative instrument, woman has been permitted
by ancient tradition to play it. Indeed I think her colleagues rather
cherish this solitary white-armed presence in their midst, much
as the men in the Welch regiment cherish the regimental goat.
In the meantime, our sex being admitted only on sufferance
as it were to the outskirts of the musical scene, all the really
interesting and educative jobs in our institutions, such as the
training of choruses, stage management, conducting, the manipu¬
lation of the electric light, etc., etc.—exercising which people
286 WOMEN IN MUSIC

learn the meaning of the word authority and how best to use
it—all these jobs, I say, fall automatically into the hands of youth¬
ful males. Now and then, favoured by the god of chance, some
woman of quite exceptional gifts, an Ellen Terry, or a Lilian Baylis,
achieves a commanding position,-8 but Edith Craig, perhaps our
greatest producer, has still to explain to casual stage hands who
work under her that she really does know something about elec¬
tricity! And it is only in a later section of this study that we
may be able to guess how it comes that London managers have
not been tearing each other to pieces for years in order to secure
the services of this supreme artist, while a Russian producer is
over-lord pro tem. at Stratford-on-Avon!
«•«••• ©

And now, the most elementary part of this paper, the matter
of training, having been dealt with, prepare for a statement which
may cause readers to stretch their eyes but which is none the
less an incontrovertible fact. Face this truth, that because of what
has been our position hitherto in the world of music, there is
not at this present moment (1933) one single middle-aged
woman alive who has had the musical education that has fallen
to men as a matter of course, without any effort on their part,
ever since music was!
Imagine then our feelings when people whip out their binocu¬
lars, sweep the landscape, and announce that so far, strange to
say, no advancing army of eminent women composers is to be
descried on the horizon. As if a pack of girls who had never
handled a golf club nor been permitted to set foot on the links
are likely to turn out even one Joyce Wethered! And golfers
start early, whereas few composers get into their stride much
before thirty!
So much for the training of musical maidens who fondly believe
they have something worth saying to say, and ask but one thing:
a chance of hearing their work in public and finding out whether
or no they are harbouring illusions. For until a work is publicly

8. Terry, the noted actress, was also a manager. Baylis was an administrator
of the Old Vic Company in the 1930s.
1920-1981 287

performed, it is impossible even for the composer to form a true

judgment on its merit.

Chapter III: Literary and Musical Careers Contrasted

I often think the happiest bit of a composer's life is the moment

when, fortified by his instructor's blessing, rich in the faith of
his friends, and buoyed up by a secret belief in his own power,
he is about to set sail for the first time on what will turn out
to be the most treacherous of seas. But before following the for¬
tunes of a musical maiden who has arrived at that moment, I
should like to deal with a misleading analogy which is often
drawn between the musical and the literary careers.
Most of us have heard friendly commentators remark, that
though the liberal education of women is only in its infancy,
we have already made a distinct mark in literature. If, then, noth¬
ing of the sort seems happening in music, surely it must be owing
to some congenital defect in the female brain—some mysterious
recalcitrancy to musical creation?
I would like to invite these logicians to begin at the beginning
and see what a relatively simple matter it is to become a writer.
You can teach yourself to v/rite by reading, by watching life, by
taking flights on your own and inflicting the result on such of
your friends as have patience and discrimination. Even in the
ladylike nineteenth century, nobody could prevent women from
writing novels on the sly, as did Jane Austen, the Brontes, Mrs.
Gaskell,9 and others. And mark that nearly all of these thought
it wisest to adopt either male or non-committal names. Books
on philosophy, astronomy, physics, mathematics, and other so-
called 'serious' subjects they of course could not write, having
had no opportunity of studying such high matters; and as regards
medicine, from the earliest times the Faculty had wisely discour¬
aged competition by causing herb-healing women to be burnt
alive as witches. But in novel writing self-expression was possible,
and to-day, though all-round emancipation of the female spirit

9. Elizabeth Gaskell.
288 WOMEN IN MUSIC

is only in its initial stages, it has been a comparatively easy matter

to consolidate and extend the victories won in the eighteenth
and nineteenth centuries, thanks to the divinely simple nature
of the machinery of the book trade, and the comfortable start,
at least, in the world of literature that almost any book can hope
to compass. For instance: (1) there is only one person between
you and the public, a publisher; (2) book-printing is a relatively
cheap matter, hence book publishers are willing to take a risk;
(3) by issuing your book you are standing in no one else's way,
for in that world there is room for all; (4) if the critics dislike
your book, there is nothing to hinder people from ordering it
and judging for themselves.

And now observe what difficulties confront even a composer

of the favoured sex when it comes to making an effort to get at
his public. I will merely indicate them in shorthand: reams upon
reams of closely scored, very complicated manuscript, the parts
of which have to be drawn out by copyists who, even when not
slightly inebriated, are but human, and whose mistakes it takes
weeks and weeks to correct. Music engraving is a very costly
process, and if your trend happens to be choral writing—an excusa¬
ble trait surely in Handel's England?—a choral work cannot well
be performed at all till it is printed. And unless it achieves what
is called a huge success the publisher has no chance of getting
his money back.
But I anticipate,- before that stage is reached a tyro must cope
with the difficulty of awaking the interest of a conductor, and
the uncertainty (nowadays) of the outcome of that conductor's
interviews on the subject with his Committee—the Committee
being a group of thirty or forty gentlemen, mostly tradesmen,
who consider themselves musical because year after year they
have sung in 'The Messiah' (some not having missed a single
performance in forty years); who know that new music doesn't
pay, and whose private feeling is that all this damned modern
stuff ought to be put down by the police. And seeing that it is
among their duties to provide the cost of orchestral rehearsals,
the fees of soloists, the hire of halls, the advertising, and so on,-
1 920- 1 9 8 1 289

and being well aware the while that as a rule the audience really
wants to hear old favourites only, it is not surprising if their
abiding instinct is to fight shy of the works of unknown compos¬
ers.
Given all the lions in the path, I think even laymen must by
now grasp how hard it is for a tyro to bring his work and the
public together. Nor is there any parallel in any other department
of artistic achievement for the tragic fact, that owing to the cost
and cumbrousness of the musical machine and the smallness of
the English market, it is more than likely that failing the miracle
of an overwhelming triumph (a miracle that not even artificial
boosting can always secure), a work of very great value, that
has cost its creator months and months of labour, may go back,
after one performance, into the composer's cupboard, practically
without a soul outside that concert hall having even heard of
its existence!

Chapter IV: The Difficulties of Women Musicians

At the outset of this chapter let an appeal be made to all the

intelligence, all the large-mindedness of which readers are capable,
coupled with a special request to women to fight down the natural
bitterness which certain reflections can but raise in one's heart.
The only weapons that are of the slightest use in such cases
are the above two, coupled with patience and almost unlimited
courage,- and meanwhile the whirligig of time is on our side.

To me one of the curious facts in life is how slowly things

move. Think how long it took the powers that were, including
even a shrewd woman like Queen Victoria, to understand that
by and by women would have to be reckoned with. In literature,
in state-craft, in travel, and, with John Stuart Mill to jog their
unwilling attention even in politics observers might have seen
what was coming. But they didn't; and when I am inclined to
be impatient or unjust about what women are up against in music,
290 WOMEN IN MUSIC

it calms and steadies me to think about the golf course at Cromer.

Let me explain. The golf course runs along the beautiful cliffs
above the sea, and all that coast is a prey to erosion, so that
ages ago it must have been obvious to the meanest intelligence
that certain holes were, so to speak, getting nearer and nearer
to the cliff edge. But successive Committees clung obstinately
to the attractive ideal that Cromer was, and should ever remain,
a purely seaside links, and refused to consider the taking in of
some flat-lying inland meadows, whereon three or four new and
relatively ignoble holes—'Votes for Women Holes' they might
have christened them—would have to be laid out.
In the end their minds were made up for them by the North
Sea, and this almost in my time. A very old former caddy told
me how an uncle of his had been conveying a cart-load of turf
along a track on the seaward side of the high-lying fourteenth
hole, when cart, horse, and driver suddenly sank out of sight,
and, together with a large portion of the cliff, only came to a
halt half-way down between the cliff top and the sea. 'Were they
all buried?' I asked. 'No,' he said, 'at least not that time; and if
you believe it, my uncle just unharnessed the horse and led him
home, and there wasn't a scratch on either of them! But,' he
added, 'they had to shift the fourteenth hole then!'
Now if this story is as veracious as it is arresting, the incident
must have happened, I calculate, about the year 1840, and all
that time the cliffs had gone on slipping into the sea, but such
was the optimism (shall we call it?) of successive golf committees
that the remoulding of the course only took place, so to speak,
yesterday. And now you will understand how it comes, that when
anger or impatience at the snail-like progress of ideas as regards
matters connected with women threaten to take the upper hand,
even as in the past certain people used to say to themselves that
blessed word 'Mesopotamia,' so do I say to myself, 'The Golf
Course at Cromer.'

To take the bull by the horns; the chief difficulty women musi¬
cians have to face is that in no walk of life do men like to see
us come barging in on their preserves. Every woman who has
1 920- 1 98 1 291

to work for her living in trades that once were male monopolies
knows this, and luckily a good many feel with me that after all
it is only natural; consequently that it is as foolish of us to resent
the inevitable as it is of men to deny the obvious. But whether
we take it philosophically or resentfully, this is the determining
factor in the position of Women in Music.

To resume. Quite apart from men's natural dislike to seeing

women cut a dash on fields hitherto sacred to their own exploits,
innocent clannishness plays a great part in this matter, as it does
in many others. The present Lord Birkenhead tells us that though
his father never made a bad appointment, he was inclined 'to
give an immediate preference to a Wadham man, or to a member
of the Northern Circuit.' You can't get rid of the colleague ele¬
ment, nor deny that men are nearer to other men than they can
ever be to women. I once heard a lady who has the reputation
of having loved pretty liberally in her time make a memorable
remark. 'Surely,' she murmured, smiling the dreamy, disarming
smile of one who has dined extremely well: 'surely it is a Law
of Nature that the nearest should be the dearest?' Quite so! I
quite agree! and an exceptionally honest conductor once told
me that nine out of ten of his tribe would rather give a desk in
their band to a Grade B male than to a Grade A woman . . .
and often did! (One was aware of the fact but liked to hear it
confirmed.) Cross-questioned further, he denied ever having gone
such lengths himself, 'but between a man and woman player of
equal capacity,' he said, 'I should unhesitatingly choose the man!'
And if I had expressed to him my private conviction that the
majority of conductors would rather produce a boring piece of
male music than score a resounding success with a work by a
woman, I believe that truth-loving man would have said 'Yes!
that is so!' This sort of thing does not simplify a woman's journey
towards a musical goal!
When it comes to the Lords of Creation considering the creative
work of women on a field that has not yet become, willy-nilly,
one of their recognised provinces, many other factors besides clan-
292 WOMEN IN MUSIC

nishness come into play; for instance prejudice, including a certain

secret disinclination to take an ultra-favourable view,- and, more
subtle still, until the male eye has been broken in, an honest
incapacity to understand what women are driving at. I fancy that
on the whole this is what the authors of '1066 and All That'
would call a good thing, proving the present writer's eternal con¬
tention that the male and female brains being differently con¬
structed, an important contribution by a woman ought to be on
every field a new contribution, an element necessary to an all¬
round vision of things human. I once heard Lord Robert Cecil,
as he then was, elaborate this idea with relation to legal matters,
and add 'that's why I am so keen on woman suffrage.'
These darkeners of counsel, clannishness, prejudice, subcons¬
cious a priori inclination not to think very highly of a woman's
work, and, lastly, a natural difficulty in focussing it correctly,
play in and out over the whole field of women's fortunes in
music, and can be sorted out and applied as the reader pleases
to incidents that will turn up in the further course of this study.
And once more be it said (since this is the all-important point
and so very few people seem capable of grasping it) that if this
male recalcitrancy takes time to wear down in all departments
of female activity (Mrs. Swynnerton had to wait for her R.A.
till she was over seventy!) it is absolutely devastating on the
field of music: because the machine is cumbrous, costly, and com¬
plicated, because it is entirely in the hands of groups of men,
not of isolated individuals, as in the book publishing business,-
and finally for the reason that if put in motion for a woman, it
is for the time being unavailable for fifteen furious male composers
who are on the waiting list!

Among quotable incidents take the following—a curious one

mentioned in my Autobiography.
Years ago that great Wagner paladin, Hermann Levi, referring
to the work of a girl of his acquaintance remarked: 'It is almost
impossible to believe it is by a woman!' And I, knowing that
the composer had left Munich, and that her score was to be sent
after her that very night, said, 'Yes! and in a week's time you
1920-1981 293

won't believe it!' Levi stared at me . . . saw my point, and said

slowly: 'By heaven! it's quite possible!' Now such a posthumous
doubt could not have risen up out of the floor and automatically
unsettled a judicial mind had the composer been a young man.
If I repeat this story, which I will call for reference 'the Levi
incident,' it is because if a man of notoriously noble character
(see various lives of Wagner) and superb musicianship can be
assailed by 'posthumous' doubts concerning a work which had
bowled him over—doubts born of the hard fact that up to then
no first-rate women composers had darkened the pages of his¬
tory—surely other men need not be affronted if one imputes to
them a like mentality, more especially in these days of industrial¬
ised music?
Levi was a German, a few (that is an idealist), and also a man
of exceptional honesty and brain power, so after that remark of
his we discussed the whole matter; and he agreed with me that
it requires great detachment, great independence of thought, and
a degree of insight that almost amounts to genius for one of the
musical faculty to see a woman's work at all until the psychologi¬
cal moment has arrived; that is, until, as eventually happened
in literature, prejudice has been broken down, twig after twig,
by ever-recurring evidence to the worth of something one thought
negligible simply because, as it says in the Bible, one's eyes were
not opened.

Chapter V: Further Difficulties for Women

My fundamental proposition was that given the lines on which

music is run in this England of ours—a country which in some
ways has more, and in others less, sense of chivalry and fair play
than any other country in Europe—women are practically outside
the pale of musical civilisation. This can easily be proved, but
as some of the proofs are autobiographical and will be dealt with
(sparingly) in another chapter, will the reader assume, just for
the sake of argument, that things are as I say, and quietly consider
the impossibility of getting rid of inherited pariahdom in England
thanks to a matter so irrelevant as your calibre as artist.
294 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Note for instance how differently the Press reacts in the case
of men and of women. Once I had grasped that it would take
all one's courage to keep going at all, I gave up reading Press
notices. 'Why court depression needlessly?' I said to myself (and
say it even to-day both to myself and others 'don't think about
it at all.' Hence for aught I know reviewers are not more unsym¬
pathetic to our work than they are to men's. But the reaction
on the composer's future is different. If you are going with the
stream, as men do, and barge up against an obstacle, very often
the impact will shoot you right out into the current and actually
help you on your way. But if you are swimming against the
stream, which is the privilege of the female, such an impact can
but send you spinning back . . . back . . . yards and yards in
the wrong direction.
One of the greatest spiritual difficulties we have to contend
with, the responsibility for which lies mainly with the elementary
condition of musical culture in England, is the extreme isolation
of the woman composer, an isolation none save those who have
endured it can imagine. Any on-coming young fellow, be his music
ever so hideous, or on the other hand ever so obviously of the
flash-in-the-pan order, can count on a bodyguard of enthusiastic
contemporaries. Of course the less momentum there is in a stream,
the more inevitable are silly little backwaters of clique and sex-
uppishness, and it goes without saying that on a talented girl
composer the backwater frequenters will turn an indifferent, a
patronising, and perhaps an inimical gaze.
• ••••••

My point is this. The hatred and enmity excited by every great

innovating genius is one thing; this damping down on principle
of feminine efforts is another. Great innovating geniuses are few
and far between, but there are plenty of composers who earn a
nice little income and give a good deal of pleasure. It is this
possibility that is denied to women, for among the consequences
of exclusion from the ranks of the performed are: no royalties,
no performing fees; unwillingness of publishers to act for you
(which means you pay for your own MS. if you can afford it,
1 9 2 0- 1 9 8 1 295

and forgo all chance of getting known even at home, let alone
abroad); resultant unwillingness of gramophone companies to
make records of works that are never performed, and so on and
so on.
And there is a worse consequence than all this. To quote my
own remark made elsewhere, you cannot get giants like Mt. Blanc
and Mt. Everest without the mass of moderate-sized mountains
on whose shoulders they stand. It is the upbuilding of this plat¬
form that is impossible so long as full music life is denied to
women, and I suppose it is unnecessary to say that conductors
and Committees are generally of one mind about keeping us out
of Parnassus, Committees being, as I have hinted, the most hide¬
bound bodies on earth. (I am talking of London and the big choral
and orchestral forces at places like Sheffield, Liverpool, etc., and
have not forgotten the splendid pioneer work for women compos¬
ers done by people like Sir Dan Godfrey and other conductors
of small but admirable municipal bands.)
'But/ I hear an objector say, 'those conductors whose field of
action is in London, or in one of those big northern music centres
you speak of ... do you really mean to tell me that men like
A. or B. could not put through anything they choose?'
A few years ago, yes; but things have changed a good deal,
and the day is past when a conductor was able and willing to
override his Committee. The competition is great, his seat in the
saddle less secure, perhaps, than people imagine, and by perform¬
ing a woman's work he cuts no ice. Now if a man is going to
make himself a nuisance to his masters, it will either be for some¬
thing he is passionately interested in, or something to produce
which will bring him Kudos—an end he will therefore pursue
with so much energy that opposition wilts. I have so far not
met a single English conductor who would feel or act thus for
the work of a woman. It is not in the breed. Such a thing could
have happened in the past in Germany where music used to be
religion, but not here where it is more than half business. Indeed
the only case of passion I know of is Sir Thomas Beecham's stand
for Delius, and Sir Thomas being a man of genius, rich, and
with rich backers, he can put things through. And then there
296 WOMEN IN MUSIC

is Donald Tovey; but he has educated his public and his orchestra
up to his own high level, so the question of suffering for his
faith may perhaps not arise.
As for the ordinary conductor, lacking passionate conviction,
can you wonder if in the case of a woman's work he recalls the
proverb about driving a nail where it will go, and gets sick of
vain hammerings that make his wrist ache? Whereupon follows
what I called a Levi incident.' If only to excuse himself for luke¬
warm advocacy, he reverts to what is still a natural male instinct,
slips off the spectacles that made him consider this a fine work
which ought to be produced, shrugs his shoulders and pitches
the opus on to the pile of rejected MSS.; with a sigh perhaps,
but rather a perfunctory one.
Of all this the public knows nothing, and mildly says from
time to time: 'Strange that there are no great women composers!'
47 CARL E. SEASHORE: "WHY NO GREAT
WOMEN COMPOSERS?"

The "woman composer question" cast a long shadow.

While Ethel Smyth, in Female Pipings in Eden of 1933 (Reading
46), decries the "general damping down on principle on feminine
efforts" that she feels prevailed for composers of her generation,
declarations about the innate inferiority of women as composers
persisted, despite the activity of notable women. Psychologist
Carl E. Seashore's essay Why No Great Women Composers? is
included here as an example of a negative assessment of women's
creativity from the mid-century period.* 1 Seashore's approach
is modernized over that of George Upton and others, reflecting
the improved status of women through time. Women are consid¬
ered by Seashore to be equal to men in talent, intelligence, and
education for composition,- they do not create, however, because
they are by nature passive.

How many names of women composers have appeared on pro¬

grams of great and lasting music? Their absence is conspicuous.
David Ewen in his recent volume, Twentieth Century Compos¬
ers, presents biographies of seventeen of the world's outstanding
composers of the last century, and among these there is not one
woman. Claire Reis, in the 1932 edition of Composers in America,
sketches the lives of 200 composers who have written "in the
larger form" and of these only 5.5 per cent are women. The same
author gives a supplementary list of 274 composers, presumably
of the second order,- of these, 11 per cent are women.

Carl E. Seashore, "Why No Great Women Composers?," Music Educators Journal

25/5 (March 1940): 21, 88. Reprinted by permission of the journal.
1. Seashore reprinted the essay in his 1948 collection entitled In Search of
the Beautiful in Music (New York: Ronald Press).
298 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Many explanations of this disparity have been offered and ar¬

gued vigorously. There is no single or simple explanation that
holds universally; history, science, sociology, anthropology, and
the arts are involved. The problem is, however, fundamentally
a psychological one and calls for analysis, although as a psycholo¬
gist I cannot offer a full or authoritative explanation. Let me
list without elaboration some of the issues involved, proceeding
by a process of elimination.

Native Talent

Great composers must be born with musical talent. Nature is

prolific in this respect, but individuals, society, and environment
are wasteful with such resources. It is only rarely that such seed
which nature has implanted comes to full fruition in creative
music. Indeed such fruition is especially rare among women. But
from all evidence now available it appears that boys and girls
inherit musical talent in approximately the same degree, of the
same kind, and equally diversified. Therefore, we cannot attribute
differences in the inheritance of musical talent to the sex differ¬
ence.

Intelligence

Of all musical pursuits, composition demands the highest order

of intelligence—both native capacity and cultivated power. This
intelligence is fundamentally of the same order as scientific, philo¬
sophical, or esthetic intelligence in general, but its content
is dominantly musical. Given artistic talent and a musical consti¬
tution, a good general intelligence may become a great musical
intelligence. Girls tend to average better than boys in public
school subjects. While inheritance may be developed in diversi¬
fied types, present evidence indicates that boys and girls are ap¬
proximately equal in this endowment. Therefore, the explanation
cannot lie in the lack of native resources for musical intelli¬
gence.
1 9 2 0- 1 9 8 1 299

Musical Temperament

Great composers are born with certain mental and nervous,

often psychotic and neurotic, dispositions which, when culti¬
vated, take on marked forms of artistic license, sometimes benefi¬
cent, sometimes noxious. To favor creative work, the composer
must cultivate the beneficent aspect of temperament. It is now
generally recognized that artistic temperaments—the musical in
particular—are inherited approximately in the same way and to
the same extent by boys and girls. Women therefore cannot find
an alibi in the supposed lack of this endowment.

Creative Imagination

Composition is an act of invention or creative imagination on

a large scale and in diverse forms. It is admitted that women
have rich and free imagination, but it is said to be of a less sus¬
tained order, while men's achievement in creative work is often
attributed to greater native capacity for creative power. For this
there is no clear support in genetics. The difference is probably
due to environmental influences and should not be attributed
to heredity. ^

Musical Precocity

The great composers as a rule have been precocious, often musi¬

cal prodigies. Countless potential musical prodigies have been
born, probably boys and girls in equal number, but only the "ships
that come in" count for much in history and tradition. Since
the great musicians as a rule have been men, memories and records
of their childhood tend to live. The girl prodigies are forgotten.

Education

Composition in the larger forms demands a high and intensive

order of education. But most of the great composers have been
300 WOMEN IN MUSIC

self-educated, often, especially at the higher levels, in the face

of most adverse circumstances. The power of genius for outstand¬
ing achievement cannot be taught. Teachers of great composers
take but little credit for their prodigies. Throughout modern his¬
tory music has been considered a feminine accomplishment. Many
more girls than boys study music. As compared with the useful
arts, the fine arts have for the most part been a realm open to
women. Musical environment, criticism, and admirers are among
the most formative musical influences. These have been equally
available for women and for men.

Recent Emancipation of Women

It is often said that until recently women have not had a chance;
that they have not been free; that modern women will come to
the front in this field. Yet, in the Victorian period and later,
women were the influential patronesses and promoters of music.
They were in search of genius wherever it could be found. The
salon was open to men and women on equal terms, and the out¬
cropping of genius is above social considerations. Will the emanci¬
pated woman who smokes, dons mannish attire and manners;
takes marital obligations lightly, is athletic and competes freely
with men in business, politics, and professions, pave the way
for great composers?

Marriage

In the graduate school I have observed that when a woman

of marked achievement and fine personality is invested with the
doctor's hood, there is a young man around the corner: we hear
the wedding march, love's goal is reached, and the promising
Ph.D. settles down and gets fat. We find no fault with that; but
to the career-minded woman, it is often a tragedy. Yet it need
not be and should offer no true alibi. The bearing of one or
more children should add to normal development of a woman,
and marriage under favorable circumstances occasionally brings
to the wife more freedom for self-expression in achievement than
1920-1981 301

the husband—the breadwinner—enjoys. A woman skilled in mu¬

sic is, as a rule, especially admired and sought in marriage,- and
marriage, as a career in itself, then invites music as an avocation
and not as a fierce, all-demanding, time-consuming goal of compo¬
sition. Seldom is either the husband or the woman willing to
make marriage the secondary career. Married women may not
have produced great compositions, but they have produced great
composers. J^ ^ ActK Uuu
fY\ iZXVb'Q '
Endurance

The achievements of great geniuses came from work, work,

work, according to Edison. It often involves excessive, even patho¬
logical strain. When we speak of the male as the stronger sex,
we usually refer to muscular strength. The passionate intellectual
and emotional drain and suffering undergone by the great compos¬
ers is of a different order. Women can bear, suffer, and sacrifice
in such respects fully as much as men.
Summing up the above observations, we may say that the real
explanation for the absence of women from the higher fields of
achievement in creative music does not lie in any form of limita¬
tion by heredity, nor does it lie to any great extent in present
limitations of opportunity, environment, or woman's peculiar ob- v
ligations. Woman is born with many distinctive feminine traits,
but it is doubtful if we shall find any of these of critical signifi¬
cance in the present issue. Environmental factors of all sorts often
determine types of development and achievement, but each of
these may be laid to some other and more fundamental cause.

Theories of Urges

Woman's fundamental urge is to be beautiful, loved, and adored

as a person; man's urge is to provide and achieve in a career.
There are exceptions; but from these two theories arise the count¬
less forms of differential selection in the choice and pursuit of
a goal for life. Education, environment, motivation, obligations,
and utilization of resources, often regarded as determinants in
302 WOMEN IN MUSIC

themselves, are but incidental modes for the outcropping of these

two distinctive male and female urges. They make the eternal
feminine and the persistent masculine type. It is the goal that
accounts for the difference. Men and women both have their
choice and both can take pride in their achievements.
Three Composers

48 RUTH CRAWFORD-SEEGER

When Ruth Crawford-Seeger (1901-53) wrote this letter

to Nicolas Slonimsky early in 1933, shortly after her marriage
to Charles Seeger, she was at the threshold of a major career,
an acknowledged member of the American avant-garde. Craw¬
ford-Seeger was eagerly awaiting the premiere of her String Quar¬
tet (1931), and she anticipated returning to sketches for two
orchestral works she had begun in Paris during her year abroad
on a Guggenheim fellowship—the first ever awarded to a woman
in composition. Despite this highly promising start, Crawford-
Seeger abandoned composition in the same year, with the birth
of the first of her four children. The possible reasons for this
move will be discussed, but first consider Crawford-Seeger's de¬
scription for Slonimsky of her formative years.

294* lA West 13th Street

New York City
January 29, 1933
Dear Nicolas Slonimsky:
How nice you want to write me up in the [Boston Evening]
Transcript.1 I have thus far not been much good when it comes
to giving autobiographical data, even for such an inviting prospect.
I usually get no further than a few bare facts. But I'll see if I
can help you out less barely than usual.
My father was a minister (Methodist) with a fine sense of
humor,- he was of Scotch-Irish-English ancestry, and was born
in a cabin off in the hills of West Virginia, the oldest of six

Letter from Ruth Crawford-Seeger to Nicolas Slonimsky, January 29, 1933, Ruth
Crawford-Seeger Collection, Music Division, Library of Congress. Used by permis¬
sion of Michael Seeger.
1. The editor was unable to determine whether the article was published.
304 WOMEN IN MUSIC

children. My mother, youngest of six, was born in Illinois, of

New England parents of English ancestry who had gone west
from their Vermont homes during the 1840s. (Her father was
also a Methodist minister.) I was brought up till I was twelve
in Ohio, Indiana, Missouri, and Florida parsonages; after my fa¬
ther's death we stayed on in Florida. I had had lessons in piano
since my sixth birthday, but until I was sixteen or seventeen
[ . . . ] (I at this time worked with a very fine and beloved,
but much feared, Leipzig-trained Norwegian teacher, [Madame]
Valborg Collett.) From seventeen till twenty I taught piano at
the School of Musical Art in Jacksonville, Florida (my home since
twelve); then at twenty it was made possible for me to achieve
Chicago with enough money for one year's study in my pocket.
Till then I had never, with the exception of a concert by a travel¬
ling chamber music group, heard any ensemble music—not even
string quartets, to say nothing of symphony orchestras. I knew,
and had heard of, piano music only—and songs. My concert expe¬
rience consisted of one concert each of [Percy] Grainger, Paderew¬
ski, and [Josef] Hofmann. I had written a few little bits of piano
music, and had four dry lessons from [George W.] Chadwick's
harmony book.
Sprinkling sevenths and ninths plentifully and insistently, and
observing or breaking the solemn rules of harmony with equal
regularity, I was guided with great understanding during the next
years by Adolf Weidig of the American Conservatory in Chicago,
who seems to me to have had an unusual balance between neces¬
sary discipline and necessary allowance for individuality. The
two years following my first financially free year, I made my
way by ushering and checking coats in the "Loop" theaters of
Chicago; after that, by teaching. Contact in 1925 with Djane
Lavoie-Herz, with whom I studied piano, and with Dane Rudhyar,
and later with Henry Cowell, established a definite turning point
in my work, and enabled me to see far along the way toward
which, in my student compositions, I had been groping. I discov¬
ered Scriabin at this time; the music of Schonberg and Hindemith
I did not hear until later,- Stravinsky's Sacre and L’oiseau de feu
came to me too about this time. During practically all my
1 920- 198 1 305

years in Chicago, my weekly and often bi-weekly climbs to the

top gallery of Orchestra Hall (my plan in the hearing of the same
program on consecutive days called for score reading at one perfor¬
mance and absence of score at the other) continued; and for fur¬
ther saturation in the orchestral manner I adorned also the percus¬
sion section of the Civic Orchestra for part of a season, counting,
not too successfully, measures by the hundred behind a triangle.
During these years I was, of course, teaching piano and harmony,
and doing most of my composing at nights and on Sundays.
In 1929 came an invitation from Mrs. [Blanche] Walton for
a year in New York; I accepted with alacrity. The summer was
spent at the MacDowell Colony in Peterboro [New Hampshire],
then to New York. Then too to the second and still more vital
turning point—a year's study with Charles Seeger in New York,
who shared with me his conception of the innumerable aspects
and yet untried possibilities, both in form and content, of a new
music, and his views as to various means of bringing some organic
coordination out of the too often chaotic superabundance of mate¬
rials in use at present. As a result of this study, my work began
at last to take a "handleable" shape, to present itself in some
sort of intelligible continuity. The Guggenheim Fellowship came
to me in the spring of this year (1930), and I sailed for Berlin
in August.
In Europe I studied with no one, composed assiduously with
interspersed periods of idleness, during which I investigated a
few museums and many winding streets (of which America has
all too few) and a considerable number of concert halls (though
I gave these up almost entirely after a few months' experiment,
becoming discouraged by the programs usually given). I am sure
that the work I did during this time was by far the best I had
done—a fact which I attribute not so much to Europe itself
(though the experience abroad was invaluable to me in a general
sort of way) as to the financial freedom to work, and to the
natural course of my growth. I spent seven months in Berlin,- a
too-short while in Vienna, where I had the pleasure of long talks
with Berg, [Egon] Wellesz, and [Josef] Hauer; and then to Buda¬
pest to gain some idea through talks with the young group of
 WOMEN IN MUSIC
306

Ruth Crawford-Seeger
1920-1981 307

the trends in new music there; then to Munich for a week's festi¬
val of new music; and the rest of the time in Paris. My Chants for
Women's Chorus2 were the first work[s] completed in Berlin; a
quartet (to be played on March 6th at the Pan Americans) was
written partly in Berlin and partly in Paris; "In Tall Grass" was
written in Berlin, and "Prayers of Steel" later in New York. Other
smaller works were written in Berlin also.
From the new music which I heard in Europe I brought back
two lasting impressions: the greater, Wozzeck of Berg, which I
felt to be the most towering of a very few master works in Europe
today (or are there any others at all?); the lesser, that of a choral
work with orchestra by Werner Egk of Munich, which contained
for me great virility and sensitiveness.
The rest of my history you know. Since returning to New York
I have busied myself with the orchestral ostinati superimpositions
to the two songs you know, and the composition of the third
one you don't know; to the unspeakable and exacting copying
of these for photographic publication, and the copying of numer¬
ous other things, the quartet included. (What is the ratio of a
composer's hours of copying to his minutes of composing?) As
soon as I finish some songs for soprano which have recently been
asked for, I hope to get at the sketches for two orchestral pieces
begun in Paris—they have waited long enough through this siege
of copying.
And of course—my marriage (October 1932). That is more im¬
portant than all these two pages put together.
. . . Thanks for the suggestion about a new work for percussion
and string quartet! I'd have done it if I hadn't this one, which
I am extremely anxious to hear.
Ruth Crawford

Raising four children, who were born between 1933 and 1944,
certainly must have made great demands on Ruth Crawford-
Seeger's energy and precluded the possibility of large blocks of
time for composition. Nevertheless, there were other factors that
2. Crawford-Seeger wrote three chants. The two utilizing women's chorus have
not yet been published.
308 WOMEN IN MUSIC

seem to have influenced her cessation as a composer. The eco¬

nomic realities of the Depression were especially hard on the
avant-garde, and then in 1935 Crawford-Seeger left the new-mu¬
sic circles of New York, relocating with her family in the Wash¬
ington, D.C., area. Once in Washington she combined her need
to contribute to the family income and her developing interest
in folk music by transcribing field recordings of American folk
songs from archives at the Library of Congress and publishing
many of the songs. With the general interest in American folk¬
lore during the Depression, her work thus allowed her to make
a connection between music and the current economic-political
life.
The 1948 letter from Crawford-Seeger to Varese that follows
includes one of the numerous mentions she made about return¬
ing to classical composition and provides insight into her hetic
schedule as well as to the value she accorded her transcription
work. She did resume composition with her Suite for Wind Quin¬
tet, which in 1952 won first prize in a competition sponsored
by the Washington, D.C., chapter of the National Association
for American Composers and Conductors. Shortly thereafter she
was stricken with cancer and died untimely in 1953, at the
age of fifty-two.

May 29, 1948

7 West Kirke Street
Chevy Chase 15
Maryland
Dear Edgard Varese:
Your first letter saying you wanted to include me in your course
at Columbia was dated January 8. I ought to wait ten more days
to make it exactly five months. I hope my lateness has not incon¬
venienced you too greatly. It seems that everything has combined
to make this spring full. Teaching at two schools, plus a full
private-teaching schedule (including an 8 till 6 Saturday), plus

Letter from Ruth Crawford-Seeger to Edgard Var&se, May 29, 1948, Ruth Crawford-
Seeger Collection, Music Division, Library of Congress. Used by permission of
Michael Seeger.
1920-1981 309

work on a book which is coming out this fall, plus proof on

the Lomax book which came out this spring, plus four healthy
children-and-a-house, have combined to emphasize my natural
indolence as to letter writing.
One reason I have been late in answering is, that you asked
for a kind of "credo." I found that a little hard, for I am still
not sure whether the road I have been following the last dozen
years is a main road or a detour. I have begun to feel, the past
year or two, that it is the latter—a detour, but a very important
one to me, during which I have descended from stratosphere onto
a solid well-traveled highway, folded my wings and breathed good
friendly dust as I travelled along in and out of the thousands
of fine traditional folktunes which I have been hearing and singing
and transcribing from field-recordings, for books and for pleasure.
Until a year or so ago I had felt so at home among this (to me)
new found music that I thought maybe this was what I wanted
most. I listened to nothing else, and felt somewhat like a ghost
when my compositions were spoken of. I answered no letters
pertaining to them,- requests for scores and biographical data were
struck in drawers. There were, of course, occasional periods during
which I returned to composition, as for instance when CBS wanted
works for orchestra utilizing folk material for performance on
the "School of the Air." Charlie and I were among those commis¬
sioned, and his John Henry and my Rissolty Rossoltry were
performed there in 1941. But for years the only instrument in
the house was a guitar, a modern dulcimer, and a special slow-
speed phonograph for transcription of folk recordings.
Whether I ever unfold the wings and make a start toward the
stratosphere and how much of the dust of the road will still
cling to me, is an interesting question, at least to me. If I do, I
will probably pull the road up with me.
As for a "credo" typifying my music of the type of [the] String
Quartet (1931) and Three Songs for Contralto and Orchestra,
which ISCM3 chose for [the] Amsterdam festival back in 1933,
I could mention a few points about which I felt strongly. And

3. International Society for Contemporary Music.

310 WOMEN IN MUSIC

I still feel strongly about them. I believe when I write more music
these elements will be there, or at least striven for:

Clarity of melodic line

Avoidance of rhythmic stickiness
Rhythmic independence between parts
Feeling of tonal and rhythmic center
Experiment with various means of obtaining, at the same time,
organic unity and various sorts of dissonance.

As to works which I consider most representative, I am inclined

to choose the String Quartet (1931). It is the slow movement
of this quartet which was recorded on New Music Recordings,
a copy of which Mrs. Varese says you have. I am sending the
score of this quartet, with the third and fourth movements ana¬
lyzed as to tone, rhythm, form, and dynamics. I would like to
mention that the recording was made at rather short notice, and
that therefore the counterpoint of the crescendos, mentioned in
the analysis, is not well heard on the recording.
A few of the things Charlie and I have been doing since 1935
may be of interest as a backdrop. We have four children, said
by our friends to have both charm and good looks, born in 1933,
'35, '37, and '44: Michael, Peggy, Barbara, and Penelope. When
Barbara went to co-operative nursery school in 1941 I went with
her, and a book, American Folk Songs for Children, grew out
of the experience (to come out this fall, Doubleday). Previous
to this I worked as music editor on the Lomax Our Singing Coun¬
try, which involved transcription to musical notation of several
hundred traditional songs, and the listening to many hundred
more in [the] process of choosing these for publication. In connec¬
tion with this I worked on a sixty-page treatise on the music of
these songs, [which was] never quite finished nor published.
This work really grew out of Charlie's activities as technical advi¬
sor in the Special Skills Division of the Resettlement Administra¬
tion, and our close acquaintance with the music we heard every¬
where during our travels among and to and from the resettlement
colonies.
We have acted as consultants for several publishing houses,
1920-1981 311

in American folk music for children. I also planned and chose

the music for the State Department for a series of radio broadcasts,
"Music in American Life." Last summer Charlie and I, with Dr.
Emrich of the Archive of American Folklore, Library of Congress,
completed a book of 900 American traditional songs, to be pub¬
lished by Dial Press; half of them we transcribed from field record¬
ings. And this spring another Lomax book, Folksong: USA, was
published by Duell Sloan Pearce, with 111 accompaniments by
us.
Charlie joins me in warm good wishes from us both. Perhaps
next time I come to New York I can know far enough in advance
to be less spontaneous in getting in touch with you.
Cordially,
Ruth Crawford-Seeger
49 ELISABETH LUTYENS

The English composer Elisabeth Lutyens (1906-83) was

radical and prohfic, cultivating all genres and many different
media. In the 1930s she developed her own dodecaphonic proce¬
dures based on her study of Purcell’s fantasias, before she had any
contact with the works of Schonberg and Webern. Serial writing
was looked upon with disfavor in England through the 1950s,
however, and as a result Lutyens’ music was neglected for many
years. In order to survive financially and provide for her four chil¬
dren in this period, Lutyens wrote a good deal for film and radio.
The last twenty years of her career brought recognition, including
many commissions.
In the first of the four selections from her autobiography pre¬
sented in this reading, Lutyens recalls her growing commitment
to music at about age fifteen. Her father was the celebrated En¬
glish architect Sir Edwin Lutyens, and her mother, Lady Edith Lyt-
ton, was active in the Theosophical Society. Her sisters and
brother, who also figure in the excerpts, are Barbara, Ursula,
Mary, and Robert.

My absorption in music was growing, involving a struggle to

gain the family's and especially Mother's recognition of its impor¬
tance to me as compared to other, earlier, passing phases of the
engine-driver genre. It was not so much a struggle against opposi¬
tion as against apathy, not being taken seriously, and ridicule,
so painful to the young. It was my effort to prove that music
for me was not just a phase but my profession, that gives signifi¬
cance to these years.

Elisabeth Lutyens, A Goldfish Bowl (London: Cassell, 1972), pp. 16-19, 59-62, 225,
267-68. Reprinted by permission of David Hingham Associates.
1920-1981 313

I do not know who had first introduced Marie Motto, the violin¬
ist, to my mother. She had apparently been teaching Robert the
violin for some years but only now in 1921 were his interest in
and gift for music, of which I had hardly been aware, used to
demonstrate to me my lack of talent and the foolishness of my
ambition. Undeterred, I now studied the piano, wrote secret com¬
positions and took violin lessons with Miss Motto.
Marie Motto was of Italian parentage, a fine violinist and pupil
of [Enrique] Arbos. She also had her own string quartet, in which
Frank Bridge was at one time the viola player, and it was from
her quartet concerts, given mostly at friends' houses, that I first
heard, learnt and loved the string quartet repertoire.
She was living in Scarsdale Villas, where I went for my lessons.
I think she must have been terribly poor, but in her case poverty
took the form of great austerity. The contents of her room, of
which she was obviously proud, consisted, at least in my memory,
only of a grand piano, a beautifully polished table on which was
a bowl of fruit, and a wooden violin stand. Conscious good taste,
achieved by the minimum of everything, but that minimum ex¬
quisite in its simplicity. It produced the restful effect of a monk's
cell. She was an ardent Roman Catholic but used no proselytism
on me. She designed her own rather eccentric clothes of the black
cape variety, which became her. She had a mostly beautiful face
and a short plump body.
Learning the violin was a slow, salutary process for which I
remain unforgettably grateful. There was none of the hurried,
superficial get-on-quick careerism of the jungle musical world
of today. Every lesson was as quiet and difficult as a prayer.
However quiet and austere the room and lessons, and however
embryonic I remained as a student, the impact of the music I
was now hearing for the first time was violent and exciting, as
this extract from a letter to my mother shows:

On Friday night Nannie and I went to the last of Miss Motto's concerts.
This is about the third time I have gone in Robert's place and I always
feel that Miss Motto resents my going when she loves Robert so. However,
it was so wonderful that I care not—not exactly true—what she
314 WOMEN IN MUSIC

thought. I nearly burst I adored it so, especially the Schubert quintet

which so thrilled me with joy-madness that I nearly burst my stays.

What student of fifteen would now go to a concert in a private

house protected by a Nannie and stays? But, as Harry Graham
says, 'It's better to have stayed too long than never to have worn
stays at all.'
Marie Motto introduced me to the friend she had made whilst
a student at the Royal College of Music, a pianist, Polyxena
Fletcher, with whom she advised me to study the piano.
Polyxena Fletcher was the daughter of a German mother, a
professional pianist and pupil of Clara Schumann, and a father
who had been a violinist. She herself had been a pupil of [Theo¬
dor] Leschetizky. She was a very strange character and my first
impression was of a weird, grey, spinsterish figure, grey hair, grey
dress, in a grey room. Her face was of a peculiar yellowish hue
from which a prominent aquiline nose loomed as a sort of antenna.
She had an amused and rather malicious twinkle in her black
eyes, and in many ways resembled a witch. She also, in spite of
a pathological fussiness about tidiness in her room and person,
exuded a peculiar and very strong musty smell, as of something
kept too long in a box. She had a tremendous and easily provoked
sense of humour in strong contrast to Marie Motto's prim and
self-conscious 'artistic' behaviour. She was intensely volatile in
mood which was expressed in her mobile face. One moment she
would be leeringly giggling at something and the next, at a turn
of the conversation to music, or the beauty of some work or
performance, tears would stream unheeded down her yellow face.
Her playing was a revelation to me and I don't know why
she had retired from the concert world. I have no idea of her
age at this time, but to my extreme youth she seemed an old
woman like Mother. But, oh the difference! She was passionately
interested in all the things to which Mother and the family seemed
totally indifferent, though it was to Mother, as usual, that I wrote
this adolescent effusion:

Oh, Mummy darling I'm so happy in my music. I love it oh, oh, so

much. It is both thrilling and interesting, so much so that I sometimes
1920-1981 315

feel as if I'll burst or something and I feel that at last I've found happiness
in myself, that whether I live here or there with this person or that I
shall be happy.

Polyxena Fletcher had genius, compared to Marie Motto's tal¬

ent, and became the greatest single influence in my life. Music,
life and people were inseparable to her, and our lessons, which
lasted hours and seemed timeless, were occupied as much with
talk and discussion as piano playing. When the talk was of music
it was from the widest and most all-embracing point of view and
she became to me the yardstick by which to measure all my
new intellectual and musical experiences and values of life.
At this time, though I composed in secret I wanted most to
be a pianist and would practise for hours a day, to the exasperation
of the family and disapproval of Nannie, who thought it 'unlady¬
like' to work so hard. Alas, it was to no avail, for no amount of
work has enabled me to play the piano better than a typist using
one finger.
It was to Miss Fletcher that I showed my two books of early
compositions and when she discovered my interest in composing
she started to teach me harmony. I have only a vague remembrance
of how she went about it, except for a correction of some exercise
where she wrote, 'trap fallen into.'
I now started attending the Proms1 and Queen's Hall concerts
whenever I could. I was always accompanied by Annie, who had
been our nursery maid and stayed with us until Ursula's marriage
to Matt Ridley (Viscount Ridley), when she followed her as a
lady's maid. She was very musical, a fluent pianist who accompa¬
nied my violin playing and played for our children's parties and
later thes-dansants. She had inherited her talent, which she had
not had the opportunity to develop, from her father, who had
been a clarinettist in the Guards' Band.
Standing with Annie on many nights at the Proms, I had my
first experience of orchestral music, the classical repertoire and
the exciting flavour of the new music from France—Debussy and

1. The famous Promenade Concerts, which Henry Wood gave with his Queen's
Hall Orchestra.
316 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Ravel—that was just beginning to filter through the fog of English

programmes. More and more the desire possessed me to go to
Paris to study music professionally, and from then on I started
badgering Mother for the necessary permission. She was, under¬
standably, reluctant to let me give up general education and
wanted me to wait until I was eighteen and then go to be 'finished/
I was adamant. I wanted to go then, at sixteen, and to study
seriously. I even went the length of practising the violin in the
early morning, well in earshot of her bedroom. I had my way
at last.
The only condition was that I stay with Marcelle de Manziarly,
a daughter of a Theosophical friend of Mother's. Our families
had already spent some holidays together and I had conceived
a great admiration for Mar, who was an excellent pianist and
talented composer. I therefore jumped at the idea and in the
New Year after my sixteenth birthday, I went to Paris to share
Mar's flat and study at the Ecole Normale. This was the beginning
of my own life in my own world.

Although Lutyens withdrew all of her music written before

1937 because of its Romantic leanings, her account of her first
major performance in 1932 remains worthy of consideration be¬
cause it attests so well to the importance of such an event for
the aspiring composer. The work performed was her ballet The
Birthday of the Infanta, based on Oscar Wilde’s story of the same
name. The program included two other contemporary works:
Constant Lambert’s Adam and Eve and a ballet based on a score
by Frank Bridge.

In 1932 I had the most important opportunity and experience

of my budding professional career. The score of my ballet, The
Birthday of the Infanta, was suggested by Penelope Spencer, who
had choreographed it for her ballet class at [the Royal Musical]
College, when offered a production by the Camargo Society, pre¬
cursor of the Royal Ballet. I was introduced, for the first time,
to the goldfish bowl of the ballet world; 'Darling, aren't you a
tiny bit too old for Giselle?'
1920-1981 317

Now my first and only conflict with Father arose. After the
choice of my ballet had been made, Maynard Keynes (husband
of Lydia Lopokova, star of the Diaghilev Ballets Russes and an
influential member of the Camargo Society) approached Father,
at the club, and asked him to contribute £100 towards mounting
my work. I was quite adamant in refusing to allow him to do
this, knowing that my name would be mud amongst my musical
colleagues. It was going to be quite difficult enough to make
good as a composer, being a woman and daughter of a famous
man and titled mother. Lopokova was furious with me, telling
me that she had accepted help from her brother. This argument
didn't move me. It was harder to stick to my guns when I found
to my surprise that Father, who I had thought would be pleased
at not having to cough up £100, was cross with me too. Maynard
Keynes was a very influential man, especially in Cambridge where
Father had many commissions. After all his kindness and generos¬
ity I hated crossing Father but it appeared to me then as if my
whole professional life was at stake. I offered to help raise funds
for the Camargo Society in any other way but this. I did help
by introducing them to Rex Whistler, a friend of Barbie's and
now mine, who offered to do the decor and costumes for my
ballet—his first stage work—for free.
Then came a rather difficult lunch to be lived through with
Lopokova still pressurizing me and Constant Lambert, the musical
director, who had to pass as well as conduct the score. I had
only met Constant once before—beautiful and disdainful—com¬
ing from the library at College, where he had been searching
for the original—not the Rimsky-Korsakov—edition of Boris Go¬
dunov. I disliked him as heartily at this lunch as I was beginning
to dislike the once so adored Lopokova. He was extremely arrogant
and patronizing for someone only a year older than myself, pro¬
claiming, didactically, that the only ballet requiring a chorus
was the Rio Grande.2 (Never having expected my ballet to be
performed, still less staged, I had used chorus, large orchestra—
the lot!) First impressions can be misleading; Constant became

2. Lambert's ballet of 1927.

318 WOMEN IN MUSIC

one of the very best friends I ever had and the musical world
shrank for me at his death.
Rex came up with splendid ideas and beautiful sketches for
the ballet, but he had at that time no experience of materials,
so that the dresses of the Infanta and her ladies, which should
have been on hoops or, at least in buckram, hung flat in limp
sateen. Of course, there was a shortage of money. My friends
and I were helping Rex with the painting of the scenery up till
the last moment. One of Rex's designs [Tamara] Karsavina refused
to accept. For the dance of the Funambulist (a tightrope-dancer)
he had drawn a nun holding an umbrella, precariously poised.
This shocked her. In the event, the dance was disastrously re¬
conceived to suit Eve, a contortionist from a Cochran revue, who
was available and might be a draw. Wendy Toye, aged fifteen,
was the Infanta and Hedley Briggs, the Dwarf. Being young and
a tyro in the theatre, I listened to all opinions,- changing the
score, inserting new dances, or whatever was required of me. But
they were all wrong. I should have stuck to my original dramatic
conception. It was a poor score, now scrapped and forgotten, but
not forgotten is the experience gained. I am grateful to Lopokova
for her decision—without consulting me, of course—that I was
to be 'Elisabeth.' To the family I was always Betty (a name I
detest). I had tried, for a spell, 'A.E.' at concerts to avoid the
sex war; to my old school friends I had been B'lutty,- to friends,
in other future worlds, I would be Liz, or Lizzie, and to Mother
alone Tinka (short for Betinka). Now Madame L. decided I was
to be Elisabeth to the public and so it has remained.
A letter from my aunt, Betty Balfour, as usual written in transit,
not only shows the family support I had for, at least, this one
early event of my musical life (if seldom afterwards) but admirably
introduces that overwhelming character, Dame Ethel Smyth:

In the train going home

Betty darling,
Ethel Smyth came with me to the Savoy—sandwiched between a hunt
after a good wireless set at Kilburn, and a treatment by her osteopath.
We had excellent places in the front row of the upper circle. She
joined me in time for the Casse Noisette Ballet, which bored her stiff—
1920-1981 319

'How I hate ballets—How I hate amusements—What are they doing?—

Why are they doing it?' . . . Half-way thro' she went out to read the
'Argument' . . . Here a strange female querulously accosted her . . .
How was she to get in? 'Go down and buy a ticket' sd. E. '1 can't, the
house is sold out!' (How splendid, B.B.) . . .
. . . During the Romance of the Rose, Ethel was entirely happy. . . .
At last the exciting moment for the beginning of The Infanta's Birthday
came. Over the introduction Ethel murmured 'Good'—'I like that'—
Then the curtain rose on the enchanting Infanta. The scene did look
like a Velazquez picture. All the incidents of the Ballet Ethel praised—
'What good gesture music it is'—specially liked the Moorish Prisoners
Si their music. Then entry of the Dwarf and his dance—supremely good.
The interval between the end of his capers and the exit of the Infanta
Ethel thought too long—this is her only criticism. But from the moment
the Dwarf reappears to the end, she was enthusiastic—8k thought the
Dwarf played his part supremely well.
When all was over my Dame shouted herself hoarse 'Bravo—Bravo.—
Author—Author' and because the rest of the audience did not follow
her lead, she became equally violent. 'What an audience! What are they
made of—Don't they realize this is an achievement—This counts. This
is something vital—alive—They are dead. They are fools—oh these En¬
glish!'
With that she flung out of the theatre—I breathlessly following. In
again she went by the STAGE DOOR. . . . Here we began to jostle
against half-dressed men 8k ballet dancers to their obvious annoyance
and inconvenience. ... So I dragged Ethel away—8k outside we fell
upon Mary—whom I called 'Barbie' St we poured into her ear all we
felt about the young composer—Si then went to drown our feelings in
tea in a Lyons shop.

Finally, here are two descriptions by the composer about how

she worked in the past, the first dating from the death of her friend
Dylan Thomas in 1953.

Dylan's death had occurred on the heels of my finishing the

Motet [op. 27]3 and I now attempted to take it easy for a few

3. Excerpta tractatus—Logico philosophici, op. 27.

320 WOMEN IN MUSIC

days, shattered as I was by the terrible news. But, for me at least,

a finished work produces a stimulation and desire for further
work immediately. It is interrupted work which induces musical
constipation.
I have often been accused, in a derogatory way, of working
quickly. This may be true if only the time of actual notation is
considered, but ideas simmer for weeks, months and even years.
On the writing down of the first sound I become totally obsessed
until the work is finished,- compressing in a short time the number
of hours some composers spread over months. Afterwards I have
little interest in the work beyond assessing from the first perfor¬
mance to what extent I have succeeded in achieving what I in¬
tended. (Luckily, I love my children—after birth!)
In my attempt at 'taking it easy' I was snoozing one afternoon
when I was kicked violently awake by a musical idea. With Dy¬
lan's death so much in mind the character of the musical idea
became identified with a lament. I originally heard a wordless
voice but singers without words generally produce a monotonous
'Ah!,' so I looked at Shelley's translation of 'Fragment of the
elegy on the death of Adonis' from the Greek of Bion. The idea
was appropriate but the words themselves in no way matched
the sound of that first vocal entry.
Before I had written down a note I received a phone call from
Georgina Dobree, the clarinettist and daughter of my good friends
and Blackheath neighbours, Bonamy Dobree and his wonderfully
gifted wife Valentine, asking me to write her a piece for clarinet
and piano. So I transposed my new idea, still, luckily, in embry¬
onic form, to the desired combination, thereby solving the prob¬
lem of the unwanted words and wrote my Valediction [op. 28]
(Dylan Thomas 1953).

In this last selection, Lutyens reflects on the year 1960.

I remember nothing of 1960 but the works I wrote, the condi¬

tions under which I wrote them and what initiated the writing
of them.
The first was the Wind Quintet [op. 45] that William Glock
1 9 2 0- 1 9 8 1 321

asked me to write for an Invitation Concert (works were not

commissioned for these concerts then) for the newly formed
B.B.C. Chamber Music Ensemble, now the Leonardo Ensemble.
I know that a wind quintet was the last thing I was wishing
to write at the time, being immersed in a piece of different charac¬
ter—Catena [op. 47] for Soprano, Tenor and Instruments. How¬
ever, I had to put this to one side and it took me three days to
transform my aural reluctance into the one and only thing I
wanted to do—a metamorphosis that must take place. I even
looked up the movement of Beethoven's String Quartet [no. 16
in F major, op. 135] with its prefaced motto theme: 'Muss es
sein?—Es muss sein! Es muss sein!' which so expressed my mood
that at one stage I contemplated taking these notes as my donne
for the quintet. I discarded this tentative idea as other ideas,
shapes and sounds began to emerge and my initial indecision
became transformed into an opening, a kernel of deliberate and
definite decisiveness.
Shape and form remain my major preoccupation, before I even
begin the writing of a piece, to ensure that the initial basic cell,
however small, contains the possibilities within it for change and
development in various proportions, tensions, relaxations, speeds,
etc., in relation to each other.
Once I have got my cell—probably but a few notes scribbled—
the aural and formal possibilities grow in my mind: the why,
wherefore, character and gesture of the whole work. Eventually
I begin the writing down of the piece (alongside it any serial
arrangement to be called upon). Or so it was with the quintet.
Each work I write—and this, no doubt, applies to most compos¬
ers—has a different starting point, more often than not outside
music: some thing, some object, some word, some line of thought,
something visual. For instance, sitting at my desk one summer's
day overlooking the garden I became absorbed in watching a poplar
tree. Though with roots fixed in one place, wind, air currents
and light all coming from the same direction, every one of the
myriad leaves was moving and turning at different speeds, which
produced shifting shadows, light and colour. This was the stimu¬
lus of one work. I think most works are written on the razor-
322 WOMEN IN MUSIC

edge between the arbitrary/intuitive and prineiple/constructive—

both elements welded in a piece. Use of principles automatically
involves the arbitrary; the arbitrary leads to the discovery of princi¬
ples. At least, this is my experience.
50 NANCY VAN DE VATE

As an undergraduate in pursuit of both conservatory and

liberal arts training, Nancy Van de Vate studied at the Eastman
School of Music, majoring in piano, and Wellesley College,
where she majored in music theory. She decided to become a
composer only at age twenty-four, but she does not regret the
latish start because of her strong background as an instrumental¬
ist. She holds master's and doctoral degrees in composition from
the University of Mississippi and Florida State University, and
she has taught on college and university faculties in various
parts of the United States. In 1975 she founded the International
League of Women Composers, which she chairs.

In your opinion what have been the chief problems confront¬

ing women composers in achieving recognition in recent years?

I think the stereotype of woman as amateur is still highly detri¬

mental to us as professionals and aspiring professionals. Women
amateur composers, of course, have been and still are very plenti¬
ful. Each little town has its local piano teacher who writes teaching
pieces or church anthems. To move up a notch, there are amateur
women composers whose chamber and vocal works are performed
by local music clubs. In general, amateur music is conservative;
it's based on one's performing experience, largely of the standard
repertory. But amateur women can also reach a very high level
of competence, and their work is accepted. Society seems to think
it is all right for them to be creative because they are using their
education, for which a financial investment has been made. We've

Nancy Van de Vate and Carol Neuls-Bates, Interview Oct. 7, 1981. Used by permis¬
sion of the interviewee.
324 WOMEN IN MUSIC

all heard the comment, "Oh, isn't it nice you are using your
music." Now by contrast, music composition has not been a hobby
among men. I don't know of any dentists who come home and
write chamber music. Men may have hobbies, but not music com¬
position.
It seems to me that the notion of woman,as amateur has had
two profound effects on the role of the professional woman com¬
poser in American society today. First, we all tend to be tarred
with the same brush, and people—especially those outside the
music field—make no distinction between the "housewife ama¬
teur" and the serious woman professional. They have no idea
that professional women are holding their own. Also many men
in the music field itself regard all women composers as amateurs
or possibly upgraded amateurs, with a few startling exceptions
such as Barbara Kolb, the first woman to win the Rome Prize.
What I am talking about has regional implications too. Around
New York and on the East Coast in general, women can claim
to be professional composers with much more credibility than
elsewhere in the country, except possibly on the West Coast.
Secondly, the stereotype of woman as amateur affects those
women who want to make the step up from amateur to profes¬
sional. Consider, for instance, a woman who has raised children
and during those years couldn't claim to be a full-time profes¬
sional, or a woman who is middle-aged and wants to go back to
graduate school in composition, or say a woman who had full
professional training but for years accepted amateur status: even
if these women are poised for a change they do not yet have
complete credentials to be professional, and frequently they are
pushed back into the category of amateur. This wouldn't happen
to a man because no such category exists. Fie can't be pushed
back into the circuit of women's clubs. Fle's either a student, a
developing composer, or a professional. And if he's a student
university faculties are interested in him rather than in the older
woman, who is sometimes regarded as a bit of a nuisance.
A few words more about the female amateur and women's music
clubs, if I may. The amateur base is important, and probably if
it didn't exist—or hadn't existed in the past—we wouldn't have
1920-1981 325

as many professional women today as we do. Also, the music

clubs support a lot of good music making at the local level, and
they've done a great deal to foster American music and American
professional composers—both women and men.

What about the impact of the new wave of the women's move¬
ment in the last ten years for professional women composers?
Surely the movement has helped!

Yes, absolutely, the climate is changing! Women composers

are becoming more assertive about themselves all the time, and
are receiving more performances of their works. We still, however,
lag very much behind men in the important areas of orchestral
performances, commissions and grants, competitions, and record¬
ings. We still need to fully integrate ourselves into the musical
mainstream.

Male composers today in the United States typically hold

academic positions, while women do not: am 1 correct?

Most women composers certainly do not hold academic posi¬

tions! In 1975 the College Music Society conference on the status
of women reported only sixty-seven women teaching composition
in the entire United States,1 and my impression is that the situa¬
tion isn't any better now. But the astonishing thing is that the
number of women as composition students—both undergraduate
and graduate—has increased immensely. I don't have definite fig¬
ures, but I can say that through its Search for New Music by
women student composers in the age category of eighteen through
twenty-eight, the League [of Women Composers] is receiving a
great number of superior entries, and not just superior on musical
grounds: the level of calligraphy and presentation, the sophistica¬
tion of tape techniques, are all light-years ahead of ten or even
five years ago. These women have had their expectations raised.

1. Adrienne Fried Block, "Women in Composition," in The Status of Women

in College Music: Preliminary Studies, ed. Carol Neuls-Bates (Binghamton, N.Y.:
College Music Society, 1976), pp. 27-28.
326 WOMEN IN MUSIC

They expect to function as professionals, but it's my feeling that

faculties in academe are no more willing to absorb them than
they were ten or fifteen years ago. I suspect the situation is even
more difficult for women outside the United States.

How do women composers exist outside of academe? Are there

any advantages in not having to teach on a college faculty?

Other than having more time for one's own composing, there
are no advantages. Most important, the college or university posi¬
tion validates your credentials as a professional composer and
gives you all kinds of professional contacts. And in college teach¬
ing you often have a whole range of facilities at your disposal:
recording studios, recital halls, electronic studios, and much more.
Some of your expenses are absorbed.
For you see, composition is such an expensive and complicated
business. You have to have your scores bound, and perhaps a
copyist to do parts. You need to have tapes reproduced, and if
you start producing recordings—as a total you can spend between
$5,000 and $15,000 a year promoting your music. To go back
and answer your first question of these two, a great majority of
women composers earn the major share of their income by giving
private piano lessons, which can be a reasonably lucrative pursuit.

Are there problems in being classified as a "woman composer"?

What about the women who don't want this classification?

I personally don't think there are problems. If we all banded

together and were classified as women composers, we would have
a much stronger case than we now have. But yes, women who
don't want to be associated with an organization for women have
posed a problem for the League. Usually they raise the charge
of separatism: "If you are really good you don't need to be identi¬
fied as a woman composer."
When I applied to college, I could not have attended Harvard,
Princeton, or Yale because of being female, and so I went to one
of the Seven Sister Colleges, Wellesley. No one then suggested
1920-1981 327

there was anything ignoble about separatism, or anything ignoble

about women doing things for themselves, or anything inferior
about the caliber of education we were receiving at a women's
school. These questions were never raised, and it bothers me very
much that now people think there is something wrong with
women composers acting as advocates in their own behalf—which
is what the League is doing. As women we simply have not had
access to the same opportunities as men. And advocacy is a fine
old American tradition.
Last August I attended a conference on string quartets by
women composers in San Francisco that was exceedingly well
done and cheered me more than any other event has in years.
The music was picked by an outside committee that included
Lou Harrison, the composer, and Daniel Kobialka, the principal
second violinist with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, and
other unbiased persons. Two superb string quartets performed
at the conference: the Aurora and the Ridge. The opening concert
was on Friday evening, and the next morning during the panel
discussions there was not a single mention of the fact that this
was a women's conference, as far as I can recall. The discussion
focused on programming contemporary music and contemporary
composers in general. Why was this the case? Because, I think,
if the quality of the music is high and the performances are good,
people forget, and they stop treating women as curiosities.

What were the events that triggered your founding the League
of Women Composers in 1975?

International Women's Year in 1975 triggered the founding

of the League, but there were other contributing factors. For some
time I had been involved in the Southeastern Composers' League:
as executive secretary—writing the newsletter and running the
organization for six years—and as president for two years. It was
a lot of hard work for an organization that gave me no real return
for my own compositions. Then I was also active in founding
the Knoxville, Tennessee, chapter of the National Organization
for Women. It was my husband who suggested that I should
328 WOMEN IN MUSIC

found a new organization just for women composers and devote

my time to it instead of to the SCL.
Another factor was that through my newsletter work for the
SCL I became known as a composer who could write articles,
and in the mid-seventies I was commissioned to write about
women for Symphony News, Musical America, and Interna¬
tional Musician. When the Musical America query came
through I realized what a marvelous opportunity for publicity
it offered. So I wrote the article in which I announced the League's
formation, and then I went out and organized the League in Janu¬
ary 1975, well before the article was published.
Our goals then are what they are now: to open up those areas
that have been insufficiently accessible to women, namely orches¬
tral performances, grants and competitions, and recordings. We
have the most stringent eligibility requirements of any composers'
organization in the country. This is not an attempt on my part
to be elitist but reflects the realization that if we are to have
real clout we need maximum credibility. The League has tried
to emphasize activities that are not duplicated by other groups,
because there is no need for just another group of composers.
And all of our members are eligible to belong to the American
Society of University Composers, the National Association of
Composers, U.S.A., the American Music Center, etc.
In the League we have produced a radio series of sixteen pro¬
grams that have been heard all over the country, we've published
a directory about the members and sponsored chamber music
programs of their works, and we've passed around a lot of informa¬
tion about career opportunities and where to find music by
women. I think we have helped women create visibility for them¬
selves, and the sense of collegiality we've generated has enabled
some women to apply for grants, competitions, etc. for which
they might not otherwise have put themselves forward.
The organization is growing by leaps and bounds with members
in fifteen countries and more and more projects. This isn't good
for me personally, and I am always trying to pass the job along.
But no one else has been willing to do the work that I do on a,
frankly, unpaid basis. Also, one problem I wasn't aware of when
1920-1981 329

I began the League was that since most women do not hold aca¬
demic positions, they are not typically involved in professional
societies and must therefore learn how to work together in these
particular circumstances.

Would, you comment on other organizations of women com¬

posers in the United States and elsewhere?

There is only one other group here, the American Women

Composers, Inc. They have a rather different thrust than the
League. They are exclusively American, and they admit anyone
in sympathy with their aims. In Japan a federation of women
composers has been formed, and they regularly translate our
League's newsletter. There are a number of exceedingly well-quali¬
fied, ambitious, and stylistically progressive women composers
in Japan today. They are not quite the Polish avant-garde, but
almost! A Canadian federation has been organized, and in Ger¬
many Frau und Musik admits both performers and composers.
There is no federation in Italy yet, although Italy has produced
two superb festivals of women's music. A number of composers
have approached our League about forming chapters in their own
countries, but with our volunteer staff we couldn't handle this.
We would like to see an international confederation of organiza¬
tions of women composers, though, and I think all of us are
moving in that direction.

In recent years the "blind audition" behind a screen has ena¬

bled increasing numbers of women instrumentalists to gain posi¬
tions with orchestras. What about the case for "blind competi¬
tions" in composition?

Anonymity in competitions is of crucial importance and some¬

thing women should insist upon. I think it is a disgrace that
the National Endowment for the Arts does not have anonymous
submission of scores for its Composer/Librettist fellowships. I
now personally limit my entrance to competitions to anonymous
ones, and that means I don't enter many competitions. But in
330 WOMEN IN MUSIC

those I do enter, I've had remarkable success. This means that

the judges are reacting to the music and not the name on the
score. I might mention that when I started composing, before
the new women's movement, I sent off my compositions under
my first initial and last name. I remember the very first was an
orchestral work that a major symposium accepted, and were they
amazed when I showed up for the performance! I followed the
same procedure several times, always with an orchestral work,
but Van de Vate is a distinctive name, and after I became known
a little I couldn't do this any more.
That recollection brings up another idea I have been tossing
around lately. There comes an awkward stage in a composer's
career regarding critical response. This is true for both men and
women, I think, although women maybe more responsive to it
than men because their position in the field is less secure. When
you are young and unknown you don't get knocked down by
the press, and of course you have all sorts of hopes. On the other
end of the spectrum, if you are well established, the critics are
very chary. But in between there is a middle ground of which I
am especially conscious, perhaps because I seem to have reached
this point. You may have a lot of works circulating, and you
are getting a good number of performances and reviews. But you
don't have a big enough name yet that critics feel they have to
treat you with any particular respect. So the increased attention
not only is sometimes uncomfortable, it can even be devastating.
You may decide it was better being anonymous. And I really
do think there is still some residual tendency among critics to
judge women's music more harshly than men's.

You have lived and worked in a number of different areas of

the country. Would you care to comment on "regionalism "?

Yes, I resent the seeming domination of the field by composers

in the New York-Boston area, and I think the Northeastern stylis¬
tic bias should be protested by regional composers! I don't even
like the word "regional": it suggests we are rural, whereas most
1 920- 1 98 1 331

of us live in cities. The Eastman alumni magazine recently did

an article about Dominick Argento and asked him how he, a
Pulitzer Prize winner, survived in Minneapolis, and he answered
to the effect: "Exceedingly well, thank you."
I noticed when I was living in the South that composers would
send a work north to a conference and perhaps be thoroughly
snubbed by the New York establishment, only to nurse their
bruised feelings for the next twenty years. If they start feeling
provincial and cut off, pretty soon they aren't heard from any
more. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Do you think the climate is more open to different musical

styles at the present time? What about your own work and
stylistic changes over the years?

In the last three to five years things have definitely opened

up, and the so-called New York School of serial composition is
no longer the only acceptable route. Ever since George Rochberg,
among others, abandoned writing dodecaphonic music to be eclec¬
tic, it's been all right to be eclectic. And a composer, like myself,
who has a strong lyric bent is now allowed to be fashionable.
Regarding my own music, I completed an orchestral work—Dark
Nebulae—in March of this year, and I've just now finished the
revisions for it. And I've begun another orchestral piece, as yet
untitled, which I have wanted to do for a long time. It's in the
Lutoslawski-Ligeti-Takemitsu tradition. Not so far out as Pender¬
ecki. I think it has some of the tone color and sound of Varese.
My whole style changed when I discovered Varese, and that
was late, in 1972. I also found out about electronic music only
in 1972 when I had a fellowship from the National Endowment
for the Humanities to attend an eight-week summer symposium
at Dartmouth and the University of New Hampshire. That sum¬
mer certainly opened my eyes to timbral and temporal composi¬
tion. I had been trained in the old pandiatonic contrapuntal East¬
man style, and I never was very comfortable with it. The only
compromise I could make with it was a type of Bartokian chro-
332 WOMEN IN MUSIC

matic contrapuntalism. I find myself so much more at ease in

the new, freer climate, and I love to write for orchestra. The
big palette fascinates me.

How do you compose? On a schedule?

I certainly would like to write on a schedule, every day. But

I find—and I feel sure this is true for most composers—that 90
percent of one's time is devoted to circulating one's works. You
have to duplicate tapes, send out scores with cover letters, etc.
Also I revise a lot based on performance, and if you change one
chord cluster in an orchestral piece, possibly as many as twenty-
four to twenty-six parts will have to be changed. Or suppose
you take out a beat: that's even more time-consuming, since all
the parts must then be changed. The proportion of time composers
spend on actual creative work is surprisingly small. But you must
keep your works circulating! There comes a point when you can
no longer stockpile.
Typically I work in desparation. Some days I just make up
my mind I am going to write and I do. Yesterday, for instance,
I did and composed five measures. That is actually a lot for an
orchestral work, if you think about it. My last piece was eleven,
twelve minutes, or 150 measures. If you average four measures
a day in full score, that makes twenty-eight measures a week,
and thus only about five weeks to turn out a full score.

Are you sanguine about the future for women composers?

I would have to say that the future of women in composition

depends very much upon the future of the overall women's move¬
ment. But beyond that, I think the future of women in composi¬
tion is as promising as women themselves choose to make it.
1982-1995
'
51 THE WOMEN'S PHILHARMONIC

Readings #42-44 traced the work of American women as

orchestral musicians from the 1920s to the 1940s—chiefly in
women’s orchestras—and their demand for the mixed orchestra
that prevailed with World War II. Women players made consider¬
able progress in mixed groups during the 1950s and 1960s, and
with the 1970s they began to achieve more than token accep¬
tance in major orchestras. As noted in the earlier readings, most
of the women’s orchestras did not survive the war years,1 while
initial opportunities for women conductors shrank once mixed
groups became the norm.
A striking revival of the women’s orchestra tradition occurred
in 1981 with the establishment of the Women’s Philharmonic in
San Francisco as an all-professional group, sixty to seventy-five
players strong. Unlike the earher women’s orchestras—which,
while they programmed works by contemporary women compos¬
ers, were primarily vehicles for the advancement of players and
conductors—the Women’s Philharmonic is devoted to performing
music written by women of the present and the past, as well as
to promoting women players and conductors. To be sure, the
Women’s Philharmonic has a comparatively wide repertory at its
disposal, due both to the greater number of women writing for
orchestra in the course of the twentieth century and to the discov¬
ery, beginning in the 1970s, of orchestral works by earher women.
At the same time, however, the orchestra itself has been a catalyst
as a potential showcase, through commissions and recordings,
and through financing the reconstmction of selected historical
masterworks.

1. The Cleveland Women's Orchestra, a semiprofessional orchestra founded in

1935, is a major exception and remains active in 1995.
336 WOMEN IN MUSIC

JoAnn Falletta, Music Director of The Women's Philharmonic.

1982-1995 337

The players in The Women's Philharmonic. Courtesy of Kit Morris.

338 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Now in its fourteenth season, the Women’s Philharmonic has

performed works by 137 women composers, including 125 pre¬
mieres and 34 commissioned works. foAnn Falletta has been
Music Director since 1987. A 1989 D.M.A. graduate of the fuilh-
ard School of Music, Falletta is one of numerous young women
conductors presently coming up through the ranks in symphony
and opera orchestras, and she also directs the Virginia and Long
Beach symphony orchestras. Falletta and her players’ joint goal is
to expand the Women’s Philharmonic from its regional California
base to national and international levels. The two reviews from
1992 chosen for this reading document the orchestra’s commit¬
ment to music by women and its critical achievement.

THE WOMEN'S PHILHARMONIC AGAIN

PROVES ITS IMPORTANCE

When Miriam Abrams, Executive Director of the Women's

Philharmonic, told the capacity audience Saturday evening that
none of the composers with works featured on the program would
be present for a bow, she was scarcely indulging in flippancy.
Abrams was, in fact, reminding the community of the substan¬
tial quantity of contemporary music (it just happened to be com¬
posed by women) introduced by the orchestra to the Bay Area
during the past eleven years. For all its various awards and com¬
mendations and sundry acts of self-aggrandizement, Herbert
Blomstedt's San Francisco Symphony should do as well. The
Women's Philharmonic, which only last year changed its name
from the Bay Area Women's Philharmonic, has demonstrated its
importance to the music scene, far beyond any simmering politi¬
cal agendas.
But for this season's closer at First Congregational Church,
Music Director JoAnn Falletta turned to the past and compiled an
admirable program of works by four of the more celebrated

Allan Ulrich, 'The Women's Philharmonic Again Proves Its Importance," San Fran
cisco Examiner, May 11, 1992. Reprinted with the permission of the Examiner.
1982-1995 339

women composers of the nineteenth and early twentieth centu¬

ries. The evening began with Fanny Mendelssohn's Ouverture
and continued with Clara Wieck Schumann's Piano Concerto in
A minor, op. 7. Canadian pianist Angela Cheng was soloist.
The second half of the concert brought some cooler sonorities
to the airless church that, in Saturday's heat, began to feel like
steerage on the Mayflower. The all-French sequence comprised
Germaine Tailleferre's Concertino for Harp and Orchestra (with
Gillian Benet) and two works by the short-lived Lili Boulanger,
D’un soil triste and D’un matin de printemps.
Parties turned away from the sold-out concert can take heart.
This week, Koch International records the entire program at Sky-
walker Ranch for domestic release in early 1993.
Saturday was not an evening for discovering lost or overlooked
masterpieces. But all five works on the program deserve wider
exposure on the schedules of major symphonic organizations.
And one hopes that Falletta will introduce one or more of the
pieces in the other cities where she conducts.
The unpublished Mendelssohn overture, given its U.S. pre¬
miere on this concert, involved considerable detective work. The
piece was composed about 1830, probably for performance in the
Mendelssohn home in Berlin. Women's Philharmonic Board
member Judith Rosen negotiated for the release of the manuscript
from the Mendelssohn Archive in Berlin. The document required
a major editing job.
The results, however, justified all the trouble and expense. The
overture, a concert work without an opera attached, seems to owe
as much to Carl Maria von Weber as to Fanny's brother Felix both
in its structure (lyrical beginning, snappy wind-up) and tempera¬
ment. The orchestration—for double flutes, oboes, clarinets, bas¬
soons, four horns, two trumpets, timpani and strings—shows
considerable deftness; and the composer's skill at fashioning ap¬
pealing melodic statements asserts itself in the opening bars.
Falletta led her forces conscientiously. But the performance
needed a bit more crispness (the finale feels like dancing music)
and less edgy registration from the brass.
340 WOMEN IN MUSIC

The 21-minute Schumann concerto isn't exactly unknown. Yet

it took a powerhouse reading like Cheng's to capitalize on its pos¬
sibilities. The writing is dazzlingly pianistic, abounding in bra¬
vura flourishes and florid octave runs. There's no place for
timidity here.
Cheng introduced a massive technique and stylistic authority.
A bit of overpedalling and a handful of smudged notes barely miti¬
gated the favorable impression.
We must remember that Clara Schumann was only sixteen
when she completed the three-movement concerto in 1836 (her
future husband, Robert, orchestrated the third movement). Yet
the bold pianistic personality of the opening Allegro maestoso,
the soaring of the cantilena of the Romanze and the catchy Polo¬
naise of the finale bespeak a notable talent.
While the centennial celebrations rage for Darius Milhaud, let
it not be forgotten that Tailleferre, one of his colleagues in Les
Six, would also have celebrated her one hundredth birthday in
1992. The Concertino, to which Benet made a gracious contribu¬
tion, offers pleasant, if not distinctive postimpressionist sounds.
Boulanger, the younger sister of pedagogue Nadia, might have
developed into a major force if she had survived beyond twenty-
five. Falletta led the two fascinatingly scored orchestral minia¬
tures with sufficient feeling for their surge and texture to earn the
Philharmonic a standing ovation.

WOMEN'S PHILHARMONIC LAUNCHES TWELLTH SEASON

Falletta continues to find, showcase remarkable scores

A couple of the more illustrious American composers of the day

and a special guest soloist merrily propelled the Women's Phil¬
harmonic into its 1992-93 season—the orchestra's twelfth—
Saturday evening at First Congregational Church. A full house is
standard for the organization, but seeing the ovations justified by
the fare proved a rare surprise.

Allan Ulrich, 'Women's Philharmonic Launches Twelfth Season,” San Francisco Ex¬
aminer, Oct. 5, 1992. Reprinted with the permission of the Examiner.
1982-1995 341

Launching her seventh year with the orchestra, Music Director

JoAnn Falletta continues to find and promote remarkable scores
from past and present by female composers. Saturday's concert,
the first of five for the season, was memorable for the premieres
of Michelle Ekizian's Saber Dances and Libby Larsen's The Atmo¬
sphere As a Fluid System for flute, percussion and strings.
Cecile Chaminade's Concertino for Flute and Orchestra, op.
107 (1905) closed the first half. Ellen Taaffe Zwilich's Prologue
and Variations (1983) came after intermission. And the tradi¬
tional "standard classic," Zoltan Kodaly's Peacock Variations,
finished the evening. Flutist Eugenia Zukerman (of CBS Sunday
Morning fame) lent her golden tone to the Larsen and Chami-
nade. And the program began with the splendid fanfare from Paul
Dukas' La Peri.
This wasn't just a case of the Women's Philharmonic blowing
its own horn. The orchestra is holding auditions for its brass sec¬
tion this season,- and is there any better way than through live
combat conditions?
Yet, beyond any particular work on the program, it was the Phil¬
harmonic itself that impressed deeply Saturday. The playing
grows in strength and sweetness every year (listen to the orches¬
tra's latest recording of Koch International Classics, if you doubt
that assertion). And Falletta's questing sensibility and passion for
excellence have made all the difference. How long, one wonders,
will it be before she has a major-league orchestra to call her own?
Still, old habits and old prejudices die hard. The Women's Phil¬
harmonic introduces more contemporary orchestral scores to the
Bay Area than any other band. Yet, it's dispiriting to see the weary
minions of the local new music crowd consistently skip the orga¬
nization's concerts. Perhaps, by skewed countercultural logic, Fal¬
letta has been too successful to be taken seriously by avant-
gardists.
Saturday they missed The Atmosphere As a Fluid System (too
forbidding a title for such a nonchalant work), which may end up
in the standard repertoire one of these days—as long as there's a
flutist of Zukerman's gifts to do it justice. Larsen offers a tuneful,
12-minute fantasia of enormous appeal.
342 WOMEN IN MUSIC

The soloist plays a virtuosic role here, with trills and flutter-
tonguing techniques, while competing for attention with percus¬
sion-flecked commentaries. Competition is not the idea here.
The flutist remains at the center of the sonic landscape. The
mood is both playful and rhapsodic and the spiralling melodies
at the end sustain the dominance of the soloist. Zukerman will
doubtless possess a showpiece to call her own.
The Chaminade, however, should be consigned to the history
books. A numbingly mindless salon bonbon (remember that both
Mahler and Debussy were at their apogee in 1905), it would be
ignored by all but flutists—if its composer hadn't been a woman.
Zukerman offered a sympathetic, stylish performance. And she
regaled the capacity crowd with an encore, Larsen's solo Aubade.
Falletta made an excellent case for the Zwilich Prologue and
Variations, a far less pretentious and far more coherent work than
many we've heard from this Pulitzer laureate during the last dec¬
ade. The composer warns of the looseness with which she treats
the variations form,- she develops fragments of the prologue mate¬
rial for strings in often arresting fashion.
Chamber orchestras could add the piece to their repertoires
with pride. The string writing is deft, individualized and finely
organized; and Falletta led her reduced forces so that inner voices
seemed definitively illuminated.
New York-based Ekizian introduced a phenomenal orchestral
technique and a sense of fun (she quotes the Khachaturian Saber
Dance in the second dance). Yet, formal cogency too often yielded
to splashy effect.
To close, Falletta exposed the asymmetrical rhythms of the
FFungarian folk song that inspired the 1939 Peacock Variations.
Yet, Saturday's performance missed a bit of sheer pungency, espe¬
cially in the wind contributions.
52 JOAN TOWER: COMPOSER

At the close of her October 1981 interview in Reading #50,

Nancy Van de Vate forecast that the future of women in composi¬
tion depended in part on the future of the women's movement,
and then on the individual courses women composers might
chart for themselves. Certainly, the attention growing out of the
women's movement as a whole has assisted a number of Ameri¬
can women composers in their rise to the forefront today. Among
them, foan Tower and the course she has charted are especially
notable.
By all the standard measurements—awards, commissions, per¬
formances by major organizations—Tower achieved major status
in the course of the 1980s, and since she received the especially
prestigious Charles B. Grawemeyer Award in 1990, her reputa¬
tion has grown internationally as well. She began as a pianist and
founded the Da Capo Chamber Players in 1969, writing solo in¬
strumental and chamber music. Since the early 1980s, she has
concentrated increasingly on orchestral music. Tower's present,
postmodernist style is predominantly consonant, bold, and highly
colorful; and she makes striking use of visual imagery and fluid
formal stmctures.
Joan Tower attended Bennington College, earned her M.A. and
D.M.A. degrees at Columbia University, and in 1972 joined the
faculty of Bard College in Annandale-on-Hudson, New York,
where she has been the Asher Edelman Professor since 1988. She
talks here about the beginnings and some of the most important
steps in her career, her composing, and women as composers.

Joan Tower and Carol Neuls-Bates, Interview February 17, 1995. Used by permission
of the interviewee.
Joan Tower's works are available from Associated Music Publishers. The footnotes list
recordings for selected works as cited in the interview.
344 WOMEN IN MUSIC

I am always interested in beginnings. Would you tell me about

your early years in South America and how they influenced you
and your music1 Was your family musical!

I was growing up in this comfortable little environment outside

of New York City, in Larchmont, and when I was age nine my
father took a big mining job in Bolivia. Very shortly I was thrown
into an entirely new culture with a new language, new schools,
new everything. It was all quite traumatic for me! On the other
hand, the experience was wonderful because it opened up my eyes
and ears to a lot of different things about the world. A nine-year-
old is very receptive.
We lived first in La Paz. At that time my father knew I was
talented, and he always made sure I had a piano teacher. I had
had a very good teacher in Larchmont, and I sometimes think
that if I had stayed with her, I probably would have become a
pianist. But because I moved in South America several times—
from La Paz to Santiago, and later Lima—I kept changing teachers
and my technique kept changing. Perhaps these changes were a
blessing in disguise.
In all we lived in South America for nine years, from 1947 to
1955, and yes, that experience has had a lot to do with my music.
Dancing is so important in South American culture, and when
we lived in La Paz, my nursemaid—who was an Inca woman—
loved to go to festivals, and used to take me with her. I was fasci¬
nated with the colorful skirts and headdresses. I would be given
some percussion instmment to play, like the maracas or the
claves, and I would dance too. So that's when I developed a love
for rhythm, which later became the basis of my music, and per¬
cussion and dance. Actually, I now call myself a choreographer of
sound.
My father was musical and came from a very musical family.
His mother was a pianist, and while he became a geologist and
a mining engineer, he loved music and played the violin, banjo/
mandolin, and he sang—sort of. We often did music after dinner
in our house. At first I was the percussionist, because my mother
played the piano. But later, as I got better, I took over the piano
1982-1995 345

part, and my father and I would play. My mother sang. Those

musicales were wonderful family things!

When did you decide to pursue composition ?

When I was growing up I didn't know there were [living] com¬

posers; it never occurred to me to compose. Actually I was playing
all dead, white, European male composers until I was eighteen!
And then I went to Bennington—which was such a wonderful
choice for me—where for the first time I was asked to write a
piece. I wrote that piece, and the experience of hearing it come
back to me through the notation and the players was overwhelm¬
ing. Exciting, yes, but also very scary. You are putting your naked
musical soul—your passions—down on paper as a finite, architec¬
tural-like blueprint and sending them off to those big ears in
space, i.e., your players, your audience. It's an idea I still find
somewhat terrifying.
For a long time—through Bennington and Columbia in the
1960s, even into the early Da Capo years—I didn't think of my¬
self primarily as a composer, because being a composer seemed
too hard. I was writing all the time, if slowly, but it was easier
to play the piano and get involved in Beethoven. After all, this
wonderful music was there, and you just had to have the tech¬
nique and be able to engage in it. Also, the goals of composition
seemed so elusive. What does it mean to write a good piece? No¬
body can answer that easily, but to play a Beethoven sonata—
well, there are lots of answers. For years I kept saying, "I am really
a pianist who composes."

How did you finally decide to take the leap ?

I don't think I took the leap at all; rather, the world took it for
me. My pieces kept getting picked up and played more and more,
and it occurred to me that the world was saying, "Look, players
and audiences seem to like your pieces. You really should think
more about this composing business." It was almost as if I was
being invited to compose. And as that happened, I gained more
346 WOMEN IN MUSIC

confidence, and I realized that maybe the goals I thought were

elusive weren't so elusive after all. But even today, when my
music is being played more than ever before—and by major orga¬
nizations—I still need the encouragement, the feedback, the shar¬
ing venue. I don't know how composers can continue without
such encouragement, and I suspect that for some women and
men, it's very hard.
To be sure, major performances and awards are wonderful.
They change everything for about a week or two. Everyone is win¬
ing and dining you, and saying great things about your music. But
then you come back to your studio and things haven't changed,
because you are very much alone in carving out a complex set of
perceptions and trying to make the strongest possible piece. And
all you have is your own perceptions!
Let me tell you a story. Just last year I wrote a string quartet,
after many years of avoiding the medium because I hadn't been
comfortable with it. But I said yes to the Muir Quartet's request,
since I thought it was time to try. I sometimes keep a diary during
the composition of a piece. Well, the one for the quartet proceeds
from "This is complete torture" to "This piece is going to be total
disaster" to, finally, "This piece A a disaster." But when the quar¬
tet was premiered at the Hancher Auditorium in Iowa—where
usually only dead composers are performed—there was a standing
ovation.1 I was shocked! Later, I realized that sometimes my own
perceptions are askew, especially when the piece is new and my
objectivity level can be fairly low.

What about your early years in New York City, graduate school
at Columbia, and writing serial music l How did you come to
change your path in the mid-1970s I

Well, first of all, I should note that I took an incredible amount

of time to earn a doctorate, basically because I wasn't that inter¬
ested. I have really always been a working musician, not a scholar

1. Tower's quartet Night Fields (1994) was premiered at the University of Iowa and
is recorded on New World Records CD 80470-2.
1982-1995 347

or an intellect. But I hung in there and laboriously got the D.M.A.

because I wanted to teach. About the sixties, I hooked up with
the uptown group—the Babbitt group, the serialists—and I was
very involved for about ten years from 1962 to 1972.2 But in¬
volved though I was, this was rather a detour for me, as I didn't
really understand the music. I certainly played it—like an Olym¬
pic acrobat, counting, counting, all that work—but I didn't under¬
stand the music! And so it took me a while, but I finally rebelled.
I am always amazed how you can fall into things, and that's
what you think the world is. And I was very inside this serial
world, very impressed with people like Milton Babbitt, Charles
Wuorinen, and Ben Boretz. Brains, brains, I thought. And Wuori-
nen was just my age and winning all these prizes! So I made the
most of this world, and then it became clear after ten years that I
was ready to move on. I heard pieces like Messiaen's Quartet from
the End of Time and simple pieces of George Crumb—simple on
the surface, I mean. You have to remember the complexity of the
music at that time—so dense, six parts running around all at dif¬
ferent speeds! So, coming to know the Messiaen was mind-bog¬
gling. I was very impressed and felt this composer had said
something truly courageous.
I started to write music that was more and more my own,
which involved shedding the serial voice and trying to find some¬
thing else—just what, I wasn't so sure, but I became more confi¬
dent as I went on. Breakfast Rhythms I [1974] is still in the serial
mode, but II [1975] is starting to step out.3 Black Topaz [1976]
was the real breakthrough.4 It was as if I had said, "I am going to
do this, and I don't care who thinks what." Black Topaz was
played at one of those uptown concerts; Charles Wuorinen con¬
ducted, Robert Miller played the piano part, and I just knew that
all those uptown composers were sitting there saying, "Joan has

2. Beginning in the 1950s, avant-garde music in New York had two camps. The
uptown group, as Tower notes, were the serialists and also electronic composers. The
downtown group—John Cage and his circle—were writing chiefly aleatory music, some¬
times employing mixed media and also electronics.
3. CRI S-354; CRI CD 582.
4. New World Records CD 80470-2.
348 WOMEN IN MUSIC

flipped out!" In retrospect I can see that I felt strong enough to

break away and go on alone. At the time, however, I remember
being very nervous, even a little afraid. I still like that piece; it's
raw and honest.

What about the Da Capo years in retrospect?

Running any chamber group has its ups and downs, and it cer¬
tainly takes a long time to get a group working well together.
Then too, fundraising for the first seven years was tough sledding
in New York, given the competition. But we did it, and I loved
having this group of players that was like my family. Being able
to call the cellist, Andre Emelianoff, and ask, "What is your sense
of a phrase of eight notes with one bow at quarter note = 80?" is
an incredible advantage. But it also was creative for the players to
understand some of the problems composers face, that notation
on paper is not always definite. So it was a two-way street, and
I certainly learned some important lessons in how to deal with
performers through this period.
I brought the Da Capo players to Bard College, and in all I
stayed with the group for fifteen years, until 1984. At that point I
said to myself, "What would it be like not to play with Da Capo?"
and I decided upon a short leave of absence. Within three months
I knew the change would be a good one, as composition had be¬
come my priority, although I certainly have continued to play and
conduct.

Would you comment on Sequoia [1981] as a major turning

point in your careerl

The project began as another disaster, I thought. It was my first

real orchestra piece, and I would write down a chord—say for
three horns, two flutes, and strings—turn the volume up, and
nothing would happen! I couldn't hear the timbre!! Writing for
Da Capo was such a tactile experience, but writing for orchestra I
found like being in another building. It was so much guesswork!
Actually, when Francis Thorne first approached me about writing
1982-1995 349

for the American Composers' Orchestra, I said, "I don't think I

am ready for this." But he disagreed, and Sequoia turned out to
be a great success. Zubin Mehta programmed it with the New
York Philharmonic and even took it to the United Nations Day
in 1982, which was televised. And then Leonard Slatkin asked
to open the 1994-95 St. Louis Symphony Orchestra season with
Sequoia and to bring me to St. Louis as a composer-in-residence.
So suddenly, Sequoia launched many incredible things for me.5
I wrote Leonard: "Do you know that I am very inexperienced
in writing for orchestra, and that other than Sequoia, I have only
an orchestrated chamber work.6 Do you know this?" He replied:
"You've written one good orchestral piece, and you are going to
write more. We are going to help you." I will never forget that
reply! If I could name any one person who changed my musical
life, it would be Leonard Slatkin.

You actually had written other orchestral works by the time you
went to St. Louis in 1985, but I take it your three-year residency
there was critical to your development as a composer.

Yes, I had written more for orchestra,7 but I still was used to
working primarily with the Da Capo players, and so facing an
orchestra of over one hundred musicians and a large staff was
somewhat intimidating. But what a phenomenal opportunity! I
was given the chance to virtually live with orchestral sound and
develop—at some leisure—my own ability to deal with the medi¬
um's timbral complexities and wonderful palettes of color. Be¬
cause of this experience, writing for orchestra could, and did,
become a tactile experience for me, just as writing for Da Capo
had been. I took scores of masterworks to rehearsals and con¬
sulted afterwards with individual players about specific questions

5. Nonesuch Digital 979118-1F; Nonesuch CD 979245-2.

6. In 1979 Tower scored her chamber piece Amazon I (1977) for orchestra as Ama¬
zon II.
7. Namely, Music for Cello and Orchestra (1984) on Nonesuch CD 79245-2; Island
Rhythms (1985) on First Edition Recordings LCD006; and the Piano Concerto (Hom¬
age to Beethoven, 1985), which is presently being recorded by the Louisville Orchestra
together with Tower's concerti for flute, clarinet, and violin.
350 WOMEN IN MUSIC

I had, and it was also extremely helpful to observe and learn from
other contemporary composers as they brought their pieces to the
orchestra. Writing for orchestra can be very intimidating in still
another way, as you are putting your piece in the same forum
with what is mostly canonized repertory. A contemporary com¬
poser needs all the help she or he can get!
I think it took me about a year to figure out how to deal with
the orchestra, how to be a colleague, how to function as a com¬
poser-in-residence. Here's a telling story. Fairly early in my resi¬
dency I went to the bassoonist and asked if I could have a session
with him. "You want a lesson?" he said. "No, I'm a composer. I
write music, and I'm still learning about certain instmments, like
the bassoon." "Well, I'll have to think about it," he replied. A
little later one of the orchestra's staff called me into his office and
asked, "What is it you want from the bassoonist?" "I just want to
talk to him about the bassoon," I said, "I'm a composer, I write
music," etc. "You probably should pay him for that," he said, and
he went on to advise me to be careful because some players
wouldn't understand such a request. What an eye opener! Here
were players who hadn't played much contemporary music of any
kind, who didn't realize composers could benefit from their per¬
forming expertise!
Fortunately, I later found out that there were plenty of players
in the orchestra who loved to show off their instruments and
teach me. But still! I started a project of pairing composers with
players of instruments that have a smaller repertory, such as the
bass, contrabassoon, marimba, and trombone, and I helped ar¬
range a series of commissions. I also started working with the
players as a pianist and conductor, with the result that they came
to see me as a musician, doing the things they did. Eventually, I
was able to convince some people that having a piece written for
their instmment would be an exciting adventure! I certainly had
a few knock-down-drag-out fights about contemporary music
with the St. Louis players during my time with them.
Of course, I don't write music just for certain instruments, but
rather for the people playing those instruments, and in all I wrote
1982-1995 351

Silver Ladders [1988]8, Island Prelude [1989]9, and my Concerto

for Orchestra [1991] for the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and
specific soloists therein—although Island Prelude and the Con¬
certo were written after my three years in St. Louis, and the Con¬
certo was commissioned jointly by St. Louis with the Chicago
Symphony and the New York Philharmonic. The St. Louis Or¬
chestra also played Island Rhythms10 during my residency, and in
general, Leonard has conducted my music with many different
orchestras over the years,- and he has made recordings.* 11
Certainly the most rewarding musical experiences from the res¬
idency for me personally—and it's a good example of what can
happen for a composer with an orchestra—were the performances
of Silver Ladders. Leonard first played it in St. Louis, and then he
took it on both an East Coast tour and a West Coast tour. In all
there were eight performances, which is rather unusual mileage
for a [contemporary] piece by the same orchestra. At the last con¬
cert in San Francisco—which was also the last concert of my resi¬
dency—the orchestra played Silver Ladders so beautifully! All the
dynamics were adjusted, and Leonard had the pacing down per¬
fectly. I was in tears. It was like they were playing Brahms!

And it was Silver Ladders, of course, that won you the Grawe-
meyer Award. Would you comment on how the award has im¬
pacted your career l Certainly the $150,000 purse is
extraordinary.

Receiving the award was a very big moment and a total shock.
My publisher had entered it, when I thought doing so was just a
waste of time. Do you know, I received many dozens of letters
about the award, seventy-five percent of them from women—so
excited that one of us had done this. I was overwhelmed, but at

8. Nonesuch CD 979245-2.
9. Ibid.
10. First Edition Recordings LCD006.
11. All in all, Leonard Slatkin and the St. Louis Symphony have recorded Tower's
Silver Ladders, Island Prelude, Music for Cello and Orchestra, and Sequoia on None¬
such CD 79245-2, and also Fanfare for the Uncommon Woman (1986) on RCA 60778-
22-RC.
352 WOMEN IN MUSIC

the same time I didn't hear from some of the men that I thought
would have contacted me.

How interesting, because Barbara Kolb has observed that

‘when you are up and coming nobody cares much whether you
are a woman. But when you are older and the money gets bigger,
it’s a little different. To be a peer is not necessarily what a lot of
men composers want you to be. ”12

I think there is tmth in what she says, and it certainly came

as a surprise for me, from some of my male colleagues after the
Grawemeyer. But no, I don't think a major prize changes your
life, it doesn't really increase the number of performances. I have
always maintained it's the music that fuels the career. I certainly
know some male composers who are very pushy, but once they
stop, they don't get that many performances, because the music
isn't backing them up. I feel very strongly that the music is your
agent, and if you write a very good piece for clarinet and one clari¬
netist plays it at [a] recital, the next year another five clarinetists
will be playing it at their recitals, and so forth. That's exactly what
happened to Wings [1981] over there on the music stand.

So, you have never had to push for recognition!

The only instances when I have applied for something—and

sent out scores unsolicited—concerned grants, like NEA fellow¬
ships. But as for sending things out to performers, conductors,
etc., I did it only once as an exception. I came to know Itzhak
Perlman's secretary, and I sent him my violin piece because I was
curious to know what he would do with it.13 I never heard from
him. Apparently he put it in his "Maybe" pile, but then, as far as
I know, he plays only two [contemporary] composers: Earl Kim
and Robert Starer.
Really, it's the idea of being rejected that I can't stand, and by

12. Diane Peabock Jezic, Women Composers: The Lost Tradition Found (New York:
Feminist Press at the City University of New York, 1988), p. 197.
13. Platinum Spirals (1976).
1982-1995 353

sending your music out you are opening yourself up to the possi¬
bility of continuous rejection. I am too vulnerable for that, and I
don't know how other people do it.

Why do you write musicl

Writing music is my emotional survival, I think. I recently

went on a trip to London, Florence, and Venice. In London an
orchestral piece of mine [Sequoia] was performed, I had a wonder¬
ful time, and I met some dynamite people, including Natalie
Wheen from the B.B.C., who is very important in terms of music
by women. I had planned to vacation in Italy and visit museums,
but once I got there I became sick, because—I think—I wasn't
doing any music.
Not that it's easy. I still compose very slowly. I'm terribly vul¬
nerable about the communicative aspects, and I'm a wreck wait¬
ing for the players to decide their relationship to my piece. For
instance, in January the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra pre¬
miered my Duets [1995]. I was with the conductor and the or¬
chestra for an entire week, working out the details and
determining the larger question for me of whether the piece
worked. The players always want to know if this is a dot or a
dash, and you are sitting there thinking, "My God, this passage
is way too long or way too fast." So, you have to pay attention to
their details, get through the mire, solve certain questions of
tempo, etc., to the best of your ability, and also compromise by
deciding something is all right for now and you'll change it later.
It's like a dance with the players feeling their way, and you yours.
And I find it can be painful, particularly at a first rehearsal.
In the end Duets worked very well. That orchestra is incredible
and gave me one of the best performances I have ever received.
Aiterwards a number of the players came up to me and asked if I
had written pieces for their instruments—which is the ultimate
compliment.

You strike me as being unusual among contemporary compos¬

ers regarding the many references in your music to the music of
354 WOMEN IN MUSIC

composers from the past, and your emphasis on their importance

to you.

I think it's more a question of specific pieces rather than the

whole body of their work, perhaps with the exception of Beetho¬
ven. Because as I went along as a player, a listener, and a teacher,
I got involved with certain pieces at certain times, and I can trace
a lot of my style accordingly. Take Bartok's Contrasts [1938]: The
opening motive of the last movement is a fragment that for some
reason or other I haven't been able to get rid of. I don't think of
Schonberg as an influence, and I am not always an admirer of his
music, but there is a passage in his Chamber Symphony [in E
major, op. 9]—which Da Capo played for seven years—that starts
with these fourths. It's a beautiful passage contextually because
so much around it is so busy, so dense, and all of a sudden there
are these clean ascending fourths! The passage always had a great
impact on me when we played it, and so those ascending fourths
are all over my music.
Stravinsky is also there—the rhythmic, visceral aspects, the re¬
peated chords in particular. Beethoven is certainly the more im¬
portant composer for me because of his incredibly strong sense of
architecture; every phrase—within a larger phrase, within a sec¬
tion, within a movement—is tightly balanced and motivated. But
I think all composers take music they have been involved with
and put it into their own contexts. After all, we don't come from
Mars.

How do you approach a new piecel

From the inside. A piece is a completely organic process, based

on itself; in other words, the starting ideas provide the fuel for the
form of the piece. And for me, the whole process is one of listen¬
ing very patiently to what that piece is trying to do, rather than
telling the piece what to do.
As for the germ at the onset, I suppose it's an extraneous idea.
For instance, perhaps the performer I'm writing for has a lovely
lyrical mode of playing, and so I will begin with a lyrical phrase.
1982-1995 355

Or maybe I'll decide to write a long piece, and therefore I'll start
with something slow moving. But I learned long ago that the be¬
ginning idea is very minimal, and it's what you do with the idea
that makes the piece. After all, the opening motive of Beethoven's
Fifth is quite trivial, but look at what Beethoven does with it! The
context is everything for me,- it shapes the idea and is the strength
of the piece.

Have you decided upon any particular challenges for yourself

in the future, things you would like to do that you haven't done
before1

Presently I am in the enviable position of being able to choose

between projects, and it just so happens that no one has asked
me to undertake a specific project in which I have no interest. The
International Organ Society recently asked me to write a piece for
their meeting next year, and when I indicated that I didn't feel I
knew enough about how the organ works, they offered to take me
to visit some of the big churches and organs in New York. That's
a prospect I find exciting, and I am going to write a relatively
short piece just because the instrument is new to me. I have also
embarked on a series of piano pieces, the next one of which is for
Emanuel Ax. And percussion, I love percussion; I'm about to
write for Nexus. Essentially, I would like to keep moving around
between different venues.

Can we turn to women in music l

If I may just launch into the subject, it was a musicologist—

Nancy Reich—who changed my life about women in music!
Nancy came to Bard in 1991-92 as a visiting professor and taught
a course on historical women composers. I sat in because I
thought I could learn from it, and I certainly did. Just as impor¬
tant, when she brought in music by women composers for flute
and asked if we had any flute players, I realized that most of the
performers in our department never played music by women. I
am not apologizing, but the fact of the matter is that when I was
356 WOMEN IN MUSIC

coming up in the 1960s and 1970s I simply wasn't aware that

there were very few women composers on the scene and the whys
behind that. It never occurred to me that the piano music I was
performing was by men only. And at Columbia I was reading all
the standard history books by Gustave Reese, Bukofzer, Grout,
and others that didn't have any women in them. I thought this
was the way the world was.
So I met Nancy Reich, and I also started to attend festivals of
women's music, both contemporary and from the past. All of a
sudden I was talking to women at the conferences about goals,
about different women's work. And all of a sudden it was very
important to me to know how Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel, or La
Guerre, or Hildegard existed in their societies. Certainly knowl¬
edge about them affects the way I think I exist in this society. I
have never been interested in history in quite this way before.
With Nancy's help, I planned a full day "Celebration of 900 Years
of Women in Music" at Bard College in the spring of 1992.

What about your own particular experiences as a female com¬

poser i Your success has been extraordinary, but have there been
problems connected with gender with which you have had to con¬
tend{

I think that in the past I have tended to perceive the woman

composer who says her work is not being performed because she
is a woman as a whiner. Certainly men do the same thing in other
ways: "Well, I am a West Coast composer, and since all the power
is on the East Coast, that's the reason I am not performed." The
question of how to interpret all this, I think, is tricky. For my
part, I am now trying to work at having a new level of awareness.
I'm concerned particularly with helping younger and older
women composers in whatever ways that I can, be it networking,
advice, recommendations, or possibly just inspiration.
Actually I am often asked about the problems I've faced, and I
think that I really haven't had them, except for writing the
music—and that can be a big problem! However, it's very inter¬
esting how your perception changes once you become aware of
1982-1995 357

certain social dynamics and realities. I was coming up at the same

time with William Bolcom, John Corigliano, Philip Glass, John
Harbison, Steve Reich, Fred Rzewski, Charles Wuorinen, Ellen
Zwilich, and others. There was a whole bunch of us, all born in
the late 1930s. Some of the men went zoom to the top fairly early
on, while Ellen and I were back here somewhere. Gradually Ellen
started to move up, and then I followed.14
But without a doubt, it was a considerably slower start for us.
At the time I didn't think of it that way. I didn't think there was
a problem. And I certainly never imagined I would get to where I
am now! It never occurred to me to aspire so high.

You are, however, enjoying success, yes { How do you view the
status of contemporary women composers today in generalI

Absolutely, I am enjoying success! It keeps my confidence

going. And I love my students and teaching. Right now I am pre¬
paring to teach a course on performing works of historical and
contemporary women composers, as the music performances in
our department—and I'm willing to bet this is the case across the
country—still consist all too predominantly of music written by
men. Going beyond college campuses to the larger scene, I am
very concerned that contemporary women are only being per¬
formed in small numbers—particularly on orchestral programs.
True, contemporary music is perceived by so many as too risky
for the box office. However, as some of the major soloists are now
commissioning and performing more contemporary pieces, I am
hopeful the situation will improve for women. Still, I would note
that when I travel to universities around the country, I rarely
meet another woman composer on the faculty,- the ratio of male
to female composition students—I can attest—is still very wide,
and I find that orchestral audiences are usually unaware that they
hear music by woman composers only infrequently. On balance,
I would have to say it is only as performers that women enjoy

14. Ellen Taaffe Zwillich was the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize in 1983 for
her Symphony no. 1.
358 WOMEN IN MUSIC

parity today, with perhaps the exception of the brass world, where
there seemingly were enough problems to occasion a conference
in St. Louis in 1993 under the leadership of Susan Slaughter,
principal trumpet of the St. Louis Orchestra.
Nevertheless, I remain optimistic for women in composition
because of the incredible change in climate that I have seen occur
in the span of my own career, and even since 1980. If you had
asked me fifteen years ago what I would be doing in 1995, I never
would have guessed that my music would be taking me to meet
so many excellent players in so many different places. I am deeply
honored and rewarded when particularly talented musicians such
as Slatkin, Elmar Oliveira, Carol Wincenc, David Shiffrin, Ursula
Oppens, and Sharon Isbin respond to my pieces with the hard
work and excitement that they do.
53 MARCIA J. CITRON: MUSICOLOGIST

This final reading introduces a new topic to the anthology,

namely, scholarship about women in music and, more particu¬
larly, the new feminist scholarship with its feminist perspectives
and methodologies. Musicologist Marcia J. Citron has been con¬
ducting research about historical women in music since the mid-
1970s. In the late 1980s, she played a key role in moving the
inquiry from compensatory history to the new gender-based anal¬
ysis, which views gender (i.e., the social construction of sexual
difference) as influencing all aspects of musical culture.* 1 Today,
gender-sensitive music criticism is widely practiced in many dif¬
ferent areas of musicology and music theory—by men as well as
women.
A professor of musicology at Rice University in Houston, Mar¬
cia Citron is the author of many articles and books—on Fanny
Mendelssohn Hensel, Cecile Chaminade, among others—and her
Gender and the Musical Canon (1993) is a monument in the new
scholarship. She holds a Ph.D. from the University of North Caro-
hna. Citron's commitment to women's history and finding new
ways of looking at historical women permeates her teaching, her
presentations at scholarly meetings, her pubhcations, and this in¬
terview.

How did you begin your work on women in musicl How did
research fit into the early years of your postdoctoral career l

Marcia J. Citron and Carol Neuls-Bates, Interview February 10, 1995. Used by permis¬
sion of the interviewee.
1. Susan C. Cook and fudy S. Tsou, "Introduction: 'Bright Cecilia/ " in Cecilia Re¬
visited: Feminist Perspectives on Gender and Music, ed. Cook and Tsou (Urbana: Uni¬
versity of Illinois Press, 1993), pp. 1-3.
360 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Mine was a career that took a while to get going, at least in

terms of research. Teaching was the obvious choice, but I really
hadn't thought about how one structures a career in research pro¬
fessionally. Actually, it took me some time to get my bearings in
the job market of the 1970s, and in the early years I had several
teaching jobs in different parts of the country. It was in 1974,
when I was on the faculty of Brooklyn College, that Judith Tick
approached me concerning a project she was undertaking with
Jane Bowers. They were planning a publication about the history
of women in music, they knew I specialized in music of the nine¬
teenth century, and because of that connection, they asked me to
research and come up with an essay on women composers of he-
der from roughly 1775 to 1850.2I knew nothing about the topic,-
I had never even heard of specific names of women except for one
or two. And so I began by gathering information at the Lincoln
Center library. Jane Bowers lent me photocopies of music she had
collected in Europe. The first offshoot was my paper and subse¬
quent article on Corona Schroter.3
Meanwhile, I had left Brooklyn College in 1976 because of the
budget crisis, and I was really wondering if I wanted to be an aca¬
demic in the face of all the moving around. But when the offer
came from Rice University, I took it; and Rice turned out to be
very good for me. I was hired to teach mainly ear training, but
eventually I made the switch to music history, and that suited me
just fine. I also began to structure a research program so as to
remain at Rice. My plans were enabled along the way by meeting
someone in the philosophy department at Rice—someone I even¬
tually married—who was doing some of the same sorts of aca¬
demic things. Perhaps for the first time, 1 became comfortable
with the research side of my life and my personal side. In
1979-80 I went into heavy-duty research in Berlin and England

2. Women Making Music: The Western Art Tradition, 1150-1950. (Urbana: Univer¬
sity of Illinois Press, 1986). Publication was originally planned for 1982. Citron's con¬
tribution was "Women and the Lied, 1775-1850," pp. 224-48.
3. "Corona Schroter: Singer, Composer, Actress," Music and Letters 61/1 (January
1980): 15-27.
1982-1995 361

on Fanny Hensel, for what eventually became an edition of her

letters as well as articles.4

What happened nextl How do you chart your progress from

compensatory history to the new scholarshipl

For me a real turning point was the 1988 convention of the

American Musicological Society, when I gave a paper I entitled
"Gender, Professionalism, and the Musical Canon." I had begun
attending an interdisciplinary feminist reading group at Rice
which was run by Jane Gallop—who specializes in French femi¬
nist theory, particularly Lacanian psychoanalytic theory—and I
had inklings that feminist theory could be helpful. This reading
group tackled very challenging material, and at first I was intimi¬
dated by the theoretical bent. But I was determined to stick with
it because I thought it might be helpful to my work and enable
me to take on some different kinds of questions.
To many of us in musicology who were working on historical
women figures in the mid-1980s, there was a sense that although
we were working in a new area—women—it was nonetheless true
that our methodology was the same as for anybody. We were com¬
ing up with interesting materials, but perhaps they were not able
to reveal fully enough the kinds of things we hoped we might find.
And therefore I decided that maybe some of the new ideas coming
from other fields, which were being used by feminists in interdis¬
ciplinary ways, could be useful. That reading group at Rice was
truly a mind-blowing experience for me.
After I wrote the "Gender, Professionalism, and the Musical
Canon" article in 1990, I thought about expanding the project
into something much bigger.5 Actually UMI Press solicited a
book-length proposal on the subject, but eventually I decided to
go with Cambridge University Press. As you know, what resulted
was the Gender and the Musical Canon book of 1993.6

4. Letters of Fanny Hensel to Felix Mendelssohn (New York: Pendragon Press, 1987);
"The Lieder of Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel," Musical Quarterly 69/4 (fall 1983):
570-94.
5. Journal of Musicology 8/1 (winter 1990): 102-17.
6. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993.
362 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Yes, the Canon book is probably the project I am proudest of in

my entire career, although I am proud of the Fanny Hensel book
too. The latter was a big stretch for me in many ways, not the
least of which was learning how to read the German handwriting
and being able to interpret the various meanings of the "in"
phrases she used. In retrospect, I think it has been an important
project for Fanny Hensel scholarship and her emergence into mu¬
sical circles and even beyond into general culture. I might add
that it's a shame there still is no good biography of Hensel in
English. There is, however, a very good French biography by Fran¬
cois Tillard that may be translated into English.
But the Canon book has to be the high point of my career so
far, and it may end up being the highest point. This was a huge
stretch for me. As I was working, I felt I was sticking my neck out
in so many areas, and yet by the time the book was published,
many of these areas were relatively uncontroversial because so
much other feminist work in musicology had been done. The
book was also a tremendous challenge because the territory was
so vast; I seemed to be getting into everything that could be
thought about in terms of historiography. While that may not be
exactly tme, there were times when I thought I had made a big
mistake in taking on the project. Now I am very happy about it
and the fact that so many people are Ending it useful.

What critical theory and other scholarship has been most im¬
portant to the new feminist scholarship in musicology I

First of all, just to recognize that there is a lot to learn from

other disciplines is a big breakthrough, rather than maintaining
that music is a lone art form unto itself, and that there is no need
to take heed of what is going on outside our own little circles.
Some of the theories and scholarship I think most important
are reader-response theory and reception theory from literary crit¬
icism, although they take in aesthetics, philosophy, and compara¬
tive literature as well. Response theory pays attention to the
individual respondent and the process of perceiving a work. By
emphasizing process, it is well suited to a performative art like
1982-1995 363

music, and has the advantage of getting us away from overreli¬

ance on relatively static concepts like the composer and the work.
Reception theory operates more on a community level as to how
something is received and critiqued.
The French theorists of the 1960s and 1970s have been impor¬
tant, for instance Michel Foucault, who has explored power and
sexuality, and Roland Barthes. One influential focus Foucault,
Barthes, and others have had concerns the role of the body in
discourse, communication, and power. And their theories provide
a vehicle for uniting music with the body, instead of keeping the
two separate from one another. Aiter all, since music is a per¬
formative art, the body is centrally concerned.
French psychoanalytic theory is also key. Both Jacques Lacan
and Julia Kristeva in their retakes on Freud have reconceptualized
the oedipal split; the entry into language, into the symbolic order;
and, consequently, before that the many presymbolic associations
with the uncontrolled, the subjective, and perhaps the irrational.
One could argue that in many ways, prelanguage—as it deals with
images and feelings—describes what music is. Several musicolo¬
gists have been building on these ideas.
Another interesting theory is standpoint theory. In general
terms the idea is that one is grounded in a particular nexus of
cultural conditions or environments. Inevitably, then, one is
viewing a situation from a particular standpoint. I also might
mention—among many other useful approaches—deconstmction
in a very general sense. A deconstructionist approach can move us
from the idea of binary opposition that is so prevalent in Western
thought to dualism, so that we can reconceptualize philosophical
traditions such as mind/body, nature/culture, and public/private.

Could we go back to the path you charted to new scholarship 1

Wasn’t your analysis of the first movement of Chaminade’s piano
sonata a very major step11 take it your interest in the piece dates
from your work in the mid-1980s and your Chaminade book.7

7. Cecile Chaminade: A Bio-Bibliography (Bio-Bibliographies in Music, no. 15;

Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1988).
364 WOMEN IN MUSIC

Yes, on both counts; the analysis was definitely a major step.

What I wanted to do was to take a piece by a woman—specifically
an instmmental piece—and find ways of applying ideas of gender
through analysis. It certainly would have been easier to choose a
texted work, which at least to that point most feminist readings
on music had done. In retrospect I would say I was both bold and
foolhardy to give my reading at so many places, and there was
quite a reaction.
In brief, my thesis is that the first movement may be challeng¬
ing the gendered codes of nineteenth-century sonata form by re¬
fusing to establish a feminine second theme that conventionally
behaves as an "other" to the masculine tonic element. In addi¬
tion, Chaminade's subject position and socialization as a woman
may have a bearing on the use of this compositional strategy, al¬
though any composer—male or female—can mount such a chal¬
lenge. The resultant controversy about my thesis centered upon
the following:
First, historical issues: Here is a piece from the late 1800s, and
there already had been such conscious experiments with sonata
form throughout the nineteenth century. Why should Chami¬
nade's experiment be seen as anything different?
Second, gender issues: Was Chaminade intentionally inserting
gender into the composition? Was she thinking about sonata
form and gendered codes? How do we know? If we read gender
into this inquiry and she was not thinking about gender, aren't
we doing a real disservice?
Third, still another cluster of questions arose about the validity
of a subjective interpretation, which is controversial in both criti¬
cal theory and musicology. I could and did say, "This is my take,"
but the question then becomes, why is my interpretation any
more valid than anyone else's?
For all these reasons, and possibly others I am not recalling at
this time, the analysis raised controversy. I think that ultimately,
even in its final form in the Canon—and the initial analysis bene¬
fited from the many reactions—my suggestion that there are ways
to insert gender into a formal analysis is exciting to some people
1982-1995 365

and remains forced for others.8 As for me, I regard my reading of

Chaminade's first movement as experimental. Like any analysis,
it doesn't provide all the answers, and it doesn't replace tradi¬
tional analysis. It does, however, provide some new ways to con¬
ceptualize the piece.

What areas in the new feminist scholarship would you cite as

being key l

There are three areas, I think, that are presently "hot" and val¬
ued over others. Representation—how women are "represented"
in musical works, e.g., in texted works like opera, or in narrative
structures in instmmental music, such as sonata form—covers a
lot of territory. Sexuality has become a major focus. Sexuality cov¬
ers desire, especially as it relates to our expectations for certain
things to happen in a piece of music. Another aspect is gay issues,
as seen in the recent collection edited by Philip Brett, Elizabeth
Wood, and Gary Thomas.9 Sexuality is not only studied in rela¬
tion to biography but also so as to know how music works. One
result of all this, of course, is the bringing in of the personal and
of previously hidden areas of life into the realm of musicology.
For many in the field, this is very threatening. The third area—or
actually, change—is the breaking down of barriers between art
music and popular music.
I will say that in all the excitement about the new areas, the
role of history in relation to these other emphases has not always
been clear. But maybe the point should be that people doing such
new work—myself included—can't cover everything. After all, the
goal of feminist musicology is to reconceptualize issues, so that
new insights into historical, sociological, musical, and aesthetic
questions are achieved—particularly regarding women. There is
so much diverse work going on, and it's a continuing process,
with many feminisms. But having said that, I also think that with
the recent "maturing" of feminist musicology there has been a

8. Gender and the Musical Canon, pp. 145-59.

9. Queering the Pitch. The New Gay and Lesbian Musicology (New York: Rutledge,
1994).
366 WOMEN IN MUSIC

reintegration of history, as opposed to the case with some of the

earlier breakthrough work.

Which colleagues' work have you found especially exciting 1

Unfortunately, there is only room to cite a very few.

The scholar whose work I respect most is Suzanne Cusick. She

is my ideal. She is imaginative in the way she frames problems,
but she is also a paradigm example of someone who uses history
as a solid base. She is one of the so-called old timers like myself
in terms of training, she has done lots of archival work, she's very
strong on language and historical connotations, and she's a whiz
at interpreting documents. To all of this she brings a mind that
starts asking fabulous new questions. Her articles on Francesca
Caccini are superb, and her work on gender connotations in the
Monteverdi-Artusi controversy was an absolute breakthrough.10
Susan McClary I admire a great deal. She has been extremely
important in lighting the fire under feminist musicology. She has
been a trailblazer too, opening so many new conceptual areas to
the rest of us. Her recent article on Brahms I find especially excit¬
ing because, for me, she is bringing back historical evidence much
more strongly than in her earlier work.11
Another wonderful scholar is Judith Tick, who writes ex¬
tremely well. She has been working mainly in the area of biogra¬
phy, which is more traditional, but she is very imaginative in
framing issues that perhaps in the old days might have been
treated simply as biographical facts. Joke Dame is a Dutch scholar
whom I met in Utrecht at a conference a few years ago. Her work
is definitely new style. She brings in psychoanalytic questions,

10. " 'Thinking from Women's Lives': Francesca Caccini after 1627," in Redis¬
covering the Muses, ed. Kimberly Marshall (Boston: Northeastern University Press,
1993), pp. 206-25; "Of Women, Music, and Power: A Model from Seicento Florence,"
in Musicology and Difference, ed. Ruth A. Solie (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1993), pp. 281-305; "Gendering Modern Music: Thoughts on the Monteverdi-
Artusi Controversy," Journal of the American Musicological Society 46/1 (spring 1993):
1-25.
11. "Narrative Agendas in 'Absolute' Music: Identity and Difference in Brahms's
Third Symphony," in Musicology and Difference, pp. 326-44.
1982-1995 367

she's done work on sexuality and the erotics of the voice. I find
her treatment of the issues very provocative, and she applies the
theories of Roland Barthes and Julia Kristeva in compelling ways.
The German scholar, Eva Rieger, I admire tremendously. She
has been a real groundbreaker too, and prolific. Her Frau und
Musik from 1980 is a wonderful combination of an archival, fac¬
tual, historical base with sociological overlays about the place of
women at different times in the past.12 Rieger is important too
because she was one of the first to concentrate not just on women
as composers but on women in all aspects of music making. I also
want to mention Nancy Reich's book on Clara Schumann13 as
one I admire very much and Carolyn Abbate's inclusion of femi¬
nist approaches in her cultural critiques, particularly of opera.14
There is such a great deal of fine work that has been done and is
being done.

Let’s turn to Gender and the Musical Canon. How did you
choose this focus t

The Canon provides a wonderful vehicle for pulling together

many important historiographic questions about women compos¬
ers, their repertoires, and their reputations. Actually "canon" was
just starting to be a topic in musicology in the late 1980s, and I
saw myself embarking on something quite new. Now I realize
that I was pulling together issues about women composers as a
continuation and summation of concerns I had been pursuing
all along. Also, historiography and the "why do we know certain
things"/"why do we not know certain things" questions fascinate
me. Certainly these questions are very important to the music of
women.
My thesis is that repertories and reputations—indeed our en¬
tire knowledge of music in the past—does not come down to us
as God-given. The process is certainly not neutral, rather it is the

12. Frankfurt: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 1980.

13. Clara Schumann: The Artist and the Woman (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University
Press, 1985).
14. "Opera or the Envoicing of Women," in Musicology and Difference, pp. 225-58.
368 WOMEN IN MUSIC

result of many interweaving processes, assumptions, attitudes,

and ideologies, etc., which are ongoing and affect each other in
numerous, causative ways. Once we are aware of them, we can
have a fuller picture of the circumstances surrounding women's
limited presence in the canon and realize that just because we
haven't heard about this figure or that piece does not necessarily
mean that the figure or piece can't be any good. Just to take one
issue from the book, professionalism has been considered a neces¬
sary condition for success, and yet the meanings of professional¬
ism and of womanhood have often been in conflict. This could
mean that many women composers avoided professional status
and thus were not published, reviewed, written about, and so on.
And then we wouldn't know about them.

What about valuation t

Well, I don't have answers that will solve the entire question,
but certainly we are always making distinctions between various
phenomena: Some things seem better, some things seem worse.
In music we are making distinctions on the music that we know
already, for which a great number of assumptions and biases have
come down to us. I don't think these assumptions and biases are
universal; rather, they are almost entirely culturally conditioned.
As an example of valuation, consider the fact that many
women prior to the twentieth century wrote pieces in the so-
called smaller genres for performance in small, domestic spaces,
as opposed to large-scale genres like symphonies and operas that
are performed in large, public places. Most women did not have
access to the public world. To be sure, some women may not have
wished to have access, but the fact remains that there were many
societal prescriptions against it. And yet there has been a great
deal of bias in favor of larger genres, while the smaller genres per¬
formed in the home have been debased.
To take valuation a step further, I certainly have preferences
among compositions that I like. But I'm not sure how much these
preferences are personal, how much they reflect preferences
within Western culture, and how much they have been inculcated
1982-1995 369

in me in terms of what I know has been valued. I have internal¬

ized these values, and therefore I have come to like certain pieces
more than others, at least partly because I know they have been
judged as being better and more important.
There is a real tension in setting some absolute value within a
given context on better or worse. It's not one or the other. Rather,
musical compositions exist in a rather fluid relationship with
each other. In teaching and performing, music is important and
exciting to us for all kinds of reasons. But valuation leads to put¬
ting things in boxes that are exclusionary and perpetuates old
ways of thinking that close doors.

Is there a “women’s style” in composition I

Along with valuation, this is an extremely difficult question. I

certainly found them both very difficult for the Canon book, and
I still do today in my teaching. Actually, I am not coming down
on either side regarding whether there is a women's style or aes¬
thetic. I don't think that usually one can tell whether a musical
composition has been written by a man or a woman, and of
course when I say that, I am referring to instmmental composi¬
tions. If a piece has a text, I think there are ways one can tell
regarding the text setting or the sympathy with particular points
of view—although many male composers have been sympathetic
to women characters and many women composers have been
sympathetic to male characters. But in terms of instmmental
music, I think it may be futile to determine the composer's
gender.
Nevertheless, there are a few additional considerations here.
Perhaps if one looked at and listened to many, many composi¬
tions by women, one could determine that there are certain com¬
mon stmctures or patterns, certain procedures. Maybe we simply
don't know enough music by women to have a sufficient sample,
and if a big enough database were to be constructed, it might be
revealing about women's style or styles. But then, of course, the
problem becomes one of essentialism: Do all women do XYZ? To
be womanly, shouldn't all women do XYZ? The answer is no.
370 WOMEN IN MUSIC

I like Eva Rieger's idea of tendencies and Renee Cox Lorraine's

ideas on women's style—that perhaps there is an emphasis in
music by women on fluidity and openness. But I also think there
are huge problems with trying to relate aesthetic production with
biology or sexuality. Nonetheless, this is an important question,
because most people raise it when they come to consider music
written by women.

The canon is, of course, concerned mainly with composition.

But shouldn’t a broader focus on women in a variety of roles in
music still be keyl You applauded Eva Rieger’s broader focus ear¬
lier.

Definitely, yes. A broader focus is absolutely necessary. For if

we just concentrate on composers, then we are in one sense per¬
petuating musicology's traditional emphasis on the centrality of
the composer, thereby belittling the many other, very important
contributions women have made. Women as patrons, performers,
the impact of women's particular representation in music: These
are all important topics that should be pursued in relation to
gender.

Will you tell me about your own work at present and what you
are planning for the future? I know you are interested in film
opera.

After I finished Gender and the Musical Canon, I was asked to

give a paper at a Modern Language Association convention about
what happens when opera becomes film. In other words, what are
the issues involved in adaptation and the change in medium?
Over the years at Rice University I have taught a number of grad¬
uate seminars on opera from a dramatic point of view, and I've
used videos. Verdi's Otello is an opera I love very much. I had
seen Franco Zeffirelli's film version and been stmek by it, al¬
though mostly negatively because of the fragmentation of the
score and the insertion of strong Catholic images. And I thought
it would be an interesting film to choose because he is such a
1982-1995 371

famous director and also because the film received mass distribu¬
tion.
In my study I draw analogies between Zeffirelli's musical frag¬
mentation and the techniques for composing a film score for Hol¬
lywood. I also foreground the impact of Zeffirelli's lush visual
style, including the idea that more can be less, especially regard¬
ing Desdemona. While there is exciting potential in opera as film,
for instance, Francesco Rosi's Carmen, Verdi's Otello may not be
the best candidate for adaptation.15
So, at present I can say I am thinking seriously about a larger
study of film opera. I find it a fascinating area, and it is attracting
the interest of other musicologists regarding issues of spectator-
ship, which focuses on the makeup and desires of the audience in
areas such as representation and interpretation. It is also possible
that I may return to historiographic and reception questions
about women composers in the past and biographical work on
specific figures.

Leaving aside your own work, what would you like to see hap¬
pen next in feminist scholarship on women in music l What, in
your opinion, might be the new directionsl

Actually, I don't think there is going to be anything brand-new

falling down from the sky. There are so many rich lines of inquiry
already laid out, and so my feeling is, the question will be one of
emphasis. First, I have mentioned before the importance of an
historical basis for all feminist scholarship, and I am hoping the
present reintegration will continue. Second, I would point to
music theory as a very promising area. My analysis of Chami-
nade's sonata falls to some extent under music theory, and I per¬
sonally would like to see more such imaginative analyses that try
to find additional ways of seeing and understanding pieces of
music. Fred Maus and Marion Guck are trying to break through
the neuter formalism of music theory, to get behind that to the

15. "A Night at the Cinema: Zeffirelli's Otello and the Genre of Film Opera/' Musi¬
cal Quarterly 78/4 (winter 1994): 700-41.
372 WOMEN IN MUSIC

larger processes and societal ideas about gender, for instance, hi¬
erarchy in terms of the way Western music is constmcted. Maus
and Guck are also concerned with the relationship between the
theorist and the work under analysis, as in the past there has in
some sense been a masculinist desire to gain control over the
work being analyzed.
1 believe work in the general areas of representation and sexual¬
ity will continue to be very important. Personally, I would like to
see more work continued on the performative aspect of
music—on process, on doing, on assuming roles, on fluidity.
Music as a performative art is just ripe for these sorts of ap¬
proaches. About biography: If we want to have a continued inter¬
est in historical women, then biography will always be important.
Ruth Solie speaks to this in a very fine article of a few years ago
about writing a woman's life.16 In terms of new ways of thinking
about women composers' lives, I very much look forward to the
publication of Judith Tick's biography of Ruth Crawford Seeger,
Adrienne Fried Block's on Amy Beach, and Elizabeth Wood's on
Ethel Smyth.17
Reception history is still another area I would like to see pur¬
sued. Again, this area involves some of my favorite questions:
Why/how do we know about certain figures; why/how do we not
know? What has been the reception of various works in various
historical periods, and what have been the factors that have in¬
fluenced the nature of that reception? Much more work needs to
be done here.
I would like to close by saying how exciting it is to be working
in this area, and how there is a lot of exciting work to come. I can
recall having taught my first women in music course in 1984, and
having to search high and low for materials. What a difference a
decade makes! In 1995 there is a gold mine of resources, and the
question is now one of elimination among luscious choices. We
certainly have come a long way.

16. "Changing the Subject," Current Musicology 53 (1993): 55-65.

17. See the Bibliography.
Select Bibliography

As noted in the introduction, this bibliography is more than twice the

size of the bibliography for the 1982 anthology, and as such it reflects
the extraordinary amount of work that has been undertaken on women
in music over the last thirteen years. Not surprisingly, some of the 1982
entries have been superseded and therefore deleted. It should be stressed
that the bibliography is selective, and that there is an emphasis on the
individual women and subjects represented in the anthology. As in the
1982 edition, the bibliography does not—apart from a few exceptions for
major items—relist the sources of the individual readings in the anthol¬
ogy or any publications in the footnotes.
Much of the latest scholarship on women has appeared in essay an¬
thologies, the contents of which are not listed as individual entries here
for reasons of space. The reader is therefore encouraged to review the
volumes cited edited by Philip Brett, Elizabeth Wood, and Gary C.
Thomas,- Susan C. Cook and Judy S. Tsou; Ellen Koskoff; Kimberly Mar¬
shall; Karen Pendle; and Ruth A. Solie. Earlier collected volumes that
should be similarly reviewed are Women Making Music: The Western Art
Tradition, 1150-1950, the 1986 anthology edited by Jane Bowers and
Judith Tick; and The Musical Woman: An International Perspective. All
are listed below in the second category, under "General Studies, General
Histories," etc.
Readers also should consult articles about individuals in The New
Grove Dictionary of Women Composers, edited by Julie Anne Sadie and
Rhian Samuel (London: Macmillan, 1994), The New Grove Dictionary
of American Music, edited by H. Wiley Hitchcock and Stanley Sadie
(New York: Macmillan, 1986), and The New Grove Dictionary of Music
and Musicians, edited by Stanley Sadie (London: Macmillan, 1980). For
major American figures see Notable American Women, 1607-1950: A
Biographical Dictionary, edited by Edward T. James, Janet Wilson James,
and Paul S. Boyer (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1971).
A supplement volume, entitled The Modern Period, is edited by Barbara
Sicherman and Carol Hurd Green (1980).

Bibhographies and Other Reference Works

Bailey, Walter B., and Nancy Gisbrecht Bailey. Radie Briton: A Bio-Bibli¬
ography. Bio-Bibliographies in Music, no. 25. Westport, Conn.:
Greenwood Press, 1990.
374 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Block, Adrienne Fried, and Carol Neuls-Bates, comps. Women in Ameri¬

can Music: A Bibliography of Music and Literature. Westport,
Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1979.
Citron, Marcia J. Cecile Chaminade: A Bio-Bibliography. Bio-Bibliogra-
phies in Music, no. 15. Westport, Conn: Greenwood Press, 1988.
Cohen, Aaron I. The International Encyclopedia of Women Composers.
New York: R. R. Bowker, 1981.
-. The International Encyclopedia of Women Composers. 2nd ed.
New York: Books and Music, 1987.
Cook, Susan C., and Thomasin K. LaMay. Virtuose in Italy 1600-1640:
A Reference Guide. New York: Garland, 1984.
Ericson, Margaret, ed. Women and Music: A Selective Bibliography on
the Cohective Subject of Women in Music. New York: Simon &
Schuster, 1995.
Green, Miriam. Women Composers: A Checklist of Works for the Solo
Voice. Boston: G. K. Hall, 1980.
Hayes, Deborah. Peggy Glanvihe-Hicks: A Bio-Bibliography. Bio-Bibliog¬
raphies in Music, no. 27. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press,
1990.
Heinrich, Adel. Organ and Harpsichord Music by Women Composers:
An Annotated Catalogue. Music Reference Collection, no. 30.
Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1991.
Hixon, Donald L. Thea Musgrave: A Bio-Bibliography. Bio-Bibliographies
in Music, no. 1. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1984.
-, and Don Hennessee, comps. Women in Music: A Bio-Bibliogra¬
phy. Metuchen, N.J.: Scarecrow Press, 1975.
Johnson, Rose-Marie. Violin Music by Women Composers: A Bio-Biblio¬
graphical Guide. Music Reference Collection, no. 22. Westport,
Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1989.
Meggett, Joan M. Keyboard Music by Women Composers: A Catalogue
and Bibliography. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1980.
Reich, Nancy B., ed. An Annotated Bibliography of Recent Writings on
Women in Music. In Women’s Studies/Women’s Status. College
Music Society Report no. 5. Boulder, Colo.: College Music Soci¬
ety, 1988, pp. 1-77.
Sims, Janet L., comp. Marian Anderson: An Annotated Bibhography and
Discography. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1981.
Skowronski, JoAnn. Women in American Music: A Bibhography. Met¬
uchen, N.J.: Scarecrow Press, 1978.
Smith, Julia, comp. Directory of American Women Composers. Chicago:
National Federation of Music Clubs, 1980.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 375

Stern, Susan. Women Composers: A Handbook. Metuchen, N.J.: Scare¬

crow Press, 1978.
Williams, Ora. American Black Women in the Arts and Social Sciences:
A Bibliographic Survey. Rev. ed. Metuchen, N.J.: Scarecrow Press,
1978.
Women and Folk Music: A Select Bibliography. Washington, D.C.: Ar¬
chive of Folk Song, Library of Congress, 1978.
Zaimont, Judith Lang, and Karen Famera, comps. Contemporary Con¬
cert Music by Women: A Directory of the Composers and Their
Works. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1981.

General Studies, General Histones, Periodicals, and Series

Ammer, Christine. Unsung: A History of Women in American Music.
Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1981.
Arnold, Dennis. "Instruments and Instmmental Teaching in the Early
Italian Conservatories." Galpin Society fournal 18 (1965): 72-81.
-. "Orphans and Ladies: The Venetian Conservatories (1680—
1790)." Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association 89 (1962-
63): 31-48.
Austern, Linda Phyllis. " 'Alluring the Auditorie to Effeminacie': Music
and the Idea of the Feminine in Early Modern England." Music
and Letters 74/3 (August 1993): 343-54.
AWC News. Washington, D.C.: American Women Composers, Inc.,
1979-82. (Continued by AWC News/Fomm.)
AWC News/Fomm. McLean, Va.: American Women Composers, Inc.
1983-94. (Continued by IAWM scholarly journal.)
Bagnall, Anne D. "Musical Practices in Medieval English Nunneries."
Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 1975.
Baldauf-Berdes, Jane L. The Women Musicians of Venice: Musical Foun¬
dations, 1525-1855. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993.
Block, Adrienne Fried. The Status of Women in College Music, 1986-87.
In Women’s Studies/Women’s Status. College Music Society Re¬
port no. 5. Boulder, Colo: College Music Society, 1988, pp. 79-
158.
Borroff, Edith. "Women Composers: Reminiscence and History," Col¬
lege Music Symposium 15 (spring 1975): 26-33.
Bowers, Jane. "Feminist Musicology and the Field of Musicology." Col¬
lege Music Symposium 29 (1989): 81-92.
376 BIBLIOGRAPHY

-. "Review of Friea Hoffman's Instrument und Korper: Die musi-

zierende Frau in der burgerlichen Kultur.” 19th-Century Music
17/3 (spring 1994): 285-93.
-, and Judith Tick, eds. Women Making Music: The Western Art
Tradition, 1150-1950. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1986.
Brett, Philip, Elizabeth Wood, and Gary C. Thomas, Queering the Pitch.
The New Gay and Lesbian Musicology. New York: Rutledge,
1994.
Briscoe, James R., ed. Historical Anthology of Music by Women. Bloom¬
ington: Indiana University Press, 1987.
Citron, Marcia J. Gender and the Musical Canon. Cambridge: Cam¬
bridge University Press, 1993.
-. "Gender, Professionalism, and the Musical Canon." Journal of
Musicology 8/1 (winter 1990): 102-17.
ClarNan Editions. 24 vols. to date. Fayetteville, Ark.: ClarNan, 1984- .
Performing editions and parts of works by women composers of
the past.
Clement, Catherine. Opera, or the Undoing of Women, trans. Betsy
Wing. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1988.
Constable, M. V. "The Venetian Tiglie del Coro': The Environment and
Achievement." Music and Letters 63 (1982): 181-212.
Cook, Susan C. "Women, Women's Studies, Music, and Musicology."
College Music Symposium 29 (1989): 93-100.
-, and Judy S. Tsou, eds. Cecilia Reclaimed: Feminist Perspectives
on Gender and Music. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1994.
Daughtry, Willa E. "A Study of the Negro's Contribution to Nineteenth
Century American Concert and Theatrical Life." Ph.D. diss., Syr¬
acuse University, 1968.
Drinker, Sophie Lewis. Music and Women. The Story of Women and
Their Relation to Music. Washington, D.C.: Zenger Publishing,
1975. A reprint of the 1948 edition.
Dunn, Leslie, and Nancy A. Jones. Embodied Voices: Vocality in Western
Culture. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995.
Elkins-Marlow, Laurine. "Have Women in This Country Written for Full
Orchestra?" Symphony News Till (April 1976): 15-19.
Elson, Arthur. Woman’s Work in Music. Portland, Me.: Longwood Press,
1976. A reprint of the 1903 edition.
Elson, Louis Charles. Woman in Music. New York: Gordon Press, 1976.
A reprint of the 1918 edition.
Green, Mildred Denby. Black Women Composers: A Genesis. Boston:
Twayne, 1983.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 377

Handy, Antoinette. Black Women in American Bands and Orchestras.

Metuchen, N.J.: Scarecrow Press, 1981.
Herndon, Marcia, and Suzanne Ziegler, eds. Music, Gender, and Cul¬
ture. ICTM [International Council for Traditional Music] Study
Group on Music and Gender. Intercultural Music Studies, no. 1.
Wilhelmshaven, Germany: Florian Noetzel, 1990.
-. Women in Music and Music Research. Special issue of The World
of Music: Journal of the International Institute for Traditional
Music 33/2 (1991).
Higgins, Paula. "Women in Music, Feminist Criticism, and Guerrilla
Musicology: Reflections on Recent Polemics.'" 19th-Century
Music 17/2 (fall 1993): 174-92.
IAWM Journal. Washington, D.C.: International Alliance for Women in
Music, 1995- .
IAWM scholarly journal. Washington, D.C.: International Alliance for
Women in Music, forthcoming. (Title to be determined.)
International Congress on Women in Music Newsletter. Los Angeles:
ICWM, 1983-89. (Discontinued. See also Working Papers on
Women in Music.)
ILWC Journal. Framingham, Mass.: International League of Women
Composers, 1989-95. (Continued by IAWM Journal.)
International League of Women Composers Newsletter. Arlington, Va.:
ILWC, 1981-89. (Continued by ILWC Journal.)
"In Retrospect: Black Prima Donnas of the Nineteenth Century." The
Black Perspective on Music 7/1 (spring 1979): 95-106.
Jepson, Barbara. "American Women in Conducting." Feminist Art Jour¬
nal 4/4 (winter 1976-77): 13-18, 45.
-. "A Woman's Place Is on the Podium." The Wall Street Journal,
18 December 1989, p. A4.
-. "Women Seek New Visibility in the Pit—on the Podium." The
New York Times, 8 August 1993, p. 27.
Jezic, Diane Peabock. Women Composers: The Lost Tradition Found.
New York: Feminist Press at the City University of New York,
1988.
Kallberg, Jeffrey. "The Harmony of the Tea Table: Gender and Ideology
in the Piano Nocturne." Representations 39 (summer 1992):
102-33.
Koskoff, Ellen, ed. Women and Music in Cross-Cultural Perspective. Ur-
bana: University of Illinois Press, 1989.
Koza, Julia Eklund. "Music and the Feminine Sphere: Images of Women
378 BIBLIOGRAPHY

as Musicians in Godey’s Lady’s Book.” Musical Quarterly 75/3

(summer 1991): 103-29.
Le Page, Jane Weiner. Women Composers, Conductors, and Musicians of
the Twentieth Century. Metuchen, N.J.: Scarecrow Press, 1980.
Locke, Ralph P., and Cyrilla Barr, eds. Cultivating the Muse: Women
Music Patrons and Activists in the United States. Berkeley: Uni¬
versity of California Press, forthcoming.
Marshall, Kimberly, ed. Rediscovering the Muses: Women’s Musical Tra¬
ditions. Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1993.
McClary, Susan. Feminine Endings: Music, Gender, and Sexuality. Min¬
neapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1991.
-. "Reshaping a Discipline." Feminist Studies 19/2 (summer 1993):
399-423.
The Musical Woman: An International Perspective. Judith Lang Zai-
mont, editor-in-chief. 3 vols. to date. Westport, Conn.: Green¬
wood Press, 1983- .
Neuls-Bates, Carol. "Sources and Resources for Women's Studies in
American Music." Notes: The Quarterly Journal of the Music Li¬
brary Association 35/2 (December 1978): 269-83.
-. The Status of Women in College Music: Preliminary Studies. Col¬
lege Music Society Report no. 1. Binghamton, New York: College
Music Society, 1976.
Nochlin, Linda. "Why Are There No Great Women Artists?" In Women
in Sexist Society, ed. Vivian Gornick and Barbara K. Moran. New
York: Basic Books, 1971, pp. 480-510.
Pendle, Karen, ed. Women and Music: A History. Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 1991.
Placksin, Sally. American Women in Jazz, 1900 to the Present: Their
Words, Lives, and Music. New York: Wideviews, 1982.
Quasten, Johannes. "The Liturgical Singing of Women in Christian An¬
tiquity." Cathohc Historical Review 27/2 (July 1941): 149-65.
Renton, Barbara, and Adrienne Fried Block. The Status of Women in Col¬
lege Music, 1976-77. College Music Society Report no. 2. Boul¬
der, Colo: College Music Society, 1980.
Rieger, Eva. " 'Dolce Semplice'? On the Changing Role of Women in
Music." In Feminist Aesthetics, ed. Gisela Ecker and trans. Har¬
riet Anderson from Frau, Musik, und Mannerherrschaft. Boston:
Beacon Press, 1986, pp. 135-49.
-. Frau, Musik, und Mannerherrschaft: Zum Ausschluss der Frau
aus der deutschen Musikpadagogik, Musikwissenschaft, und
Musikausiibung. Frankfurt: Ullstein, 1981.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 3 79

-. Frau und Musik. Frankfurt: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 1980.

Riley, Joanne M. “The Influence of Women on Secular Vocal Music in
Sixteenth Century Italy." Master's thesis, Wesleyan University,
1980.
Rosen, Judith, and Grace Rubin-Rabson. "Why Haven't Women Become
Great Composers?" High Fidelity/Musical America 23/2 (Febru¬
ary 1973): 46-52.
Shapiro, Marianne. "The Provencal Trobaritz and the Limits of Courtly
Love." Signs 3/3 (spring 1978): 560-71.
Solie, Ruth A., ed. Musicology and Difference: Gender and Sexuality in
Music Scholarship. Berkeley: University of California Press,
1993.
-. "Sophie Drinker's History." In Disciplining Music: Musicology
and Its Canons, ed. Katherine Bergerson and Philip V. Bohlman.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992, pp. 23-43.
-. "What Do Feminists Want? A Reply to Pieter van den Toorn."
Journal of Musicology 9/4 (fall 1991): 399-410.
-. "Whose Life? The Gendered Text in Schumann's Frauenliebe
Songs." In Music and Text: Critical Inquiries, ed. Steven Paul
Scher. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991. pp.
219-40.
Tick, Judith. American Women Composers Before 1870. Ann Arbor,
Mich.: UMI Research Press, 1983.
-. "Women in Music." The New Grove Dictionary of American
Music, ed. H. Wiley Hitchcock and Stanley Sadie. New York:
Macmillan, 1986.
-. "Why Have There Been No Great Women Composers?" Interna¬
tional Musician 79/1 (July 1975): 6, 22.
Van de Vate, Nancy. "The American Woman Composer: Some Sour
Notes." High Fidehty/Musical America 25/6 (June 1975): 18-20.
Women Composers Series. 25 vols. New York: Da Capo Press, 1979- .
Performing editions and study scores of works by women com¬
posers of the past.
WOMEN IN MUSIC. Heresies 3/2 (summer 1980).
Women of Note Quarterly. A Magazine of Historical and Contemporary
Women Composers. I (1993- ). Pullman, Wash.: Vivace Press.
Wood, Elizabeth. "Review Essay: Women in Music." Signs 6/2 (winter
1980): 283-97.
Working Papers on Women in Music: The Journal of the International
Congress on Women in Music. La Crescenta, Calif.: ICWM,
1985- .
380 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Yardley, Anne Bagnall. 'The Marriage of Heaven and Earth: A Late

Medieval Source of the Consecratio Virginum." Current Musicol¬
ogy 45-47 (1990): 305-24.

Works About Individual Women

Banfield, Stephen. "Mrs. Coolidge and Her British Connections." Ameri-

can Music 4/1 (spring 1986): 59-88.
Barr, Cyrilla. "The Musicological Legacy of Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge."
Journal of Musicology 11/2 (spring 1993): 250-68.
Barth, Prudentia, et al. Hildegard von Bingen: Lieder. Salzburg: Otto
Mueller, 1959.
Bates, Carol Henry. "The Instrumental Music of Elisabeth-Claude Jac-
quet de la Guerre." Ph.D. diss., University of Indiana, 1975.
Block, Adrienne Fried. Amy Beach (1867-1944), American Composer
and Pianist. Oxford: Oxford University Press, forthcoming.
-. "Amy Beach's Music on Native American Themes." American
Music 5/2 (summer 1990): 141-66.
-. "Why Amy Beach Succeeded as a Composer: The Early Years."
Current Musicology 36 (spring 1983): 41-59.
Bomberger, E. Douglas. "Motivic Development in Amy Beach's Varia¬
tions on Balkan Themes, op. 60." American Music 10/3 (fall
1992) : 326-47.
Bowers, Jane. " 'I Can Stand More Trouble than Any Little Women My
Size': Observations on the Meaning of the Blues in Estelle
'Mama' Yancey." American Music 11/1 (spring 1993): 28-53.
Bonime, Stephen. "Anne de Bretagne (1477-1514) and Music." Ph.D.
diss., Bryn Mawr College, 1975.
Bradshaw, Susan. "The Music of Elisabeth Lutyens." Musical Times 112
(July 1971): 653-56.
Brooke, Jeanice. "Nadia Boulanger and the Salon of the Princesse de Poli-
gnac." Journal of the American Musicological Society 46/3 (fall
1993) : 415-68.
Brown, Rae Linda. "Selected Orchestral Music of Florence B. Price
(1888-1953) in the Context of Her Life and Work." Ph.D. diss.,
Yale University, 1987.
-. "The Woman's Symphony Orchestra of Chicago and Florence
B. Price's Concerto in One Movement." American Music 11/2
(summer 1993): 195-205.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 381

Burton, Anna. "Robert Schumann and Clara Wieck: A Creative Partner¬

ship." Music and Letters 69/2 (April 1988): 211-28.
Carter, Stewart Arlen. "The Music of Isabella Leonarda (ca. 1620-ca.
1704)." Ph.D. diss., Stanford University, 1981.
Citron, Marcia J. Letters of Fanny Hensel to Felix Mendelssohn. New
York: Pendragon Press, 1987.
-. "The Lieder of Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel." Musical Quarterly
69/4 (fall 1983): 570-94.
Dale, Kathleen. "Ethel Smyth's Prentice Works." Music and Letters 30/
4 (October 1949): 329-36.
Daughtry, Willa E. "Sissieretta fones: Profile of a Black Artist." Musical
Analysis 1/1 (winter 1972): 12-18.
Dopp, Bonnie Jo. "Numerology and Cryptography in the Music of Lili
Boulanger." Musical Quarterly 78/3 (fall 1994): 556-83.
Dronke, Peter. Women Writers of the Middle Ages. Cambridge: Cam¬
bridge University Press, 1984.
Du Moulin-Eckart, Richard M. F. Cosima Wagner, trans. Catherine Ali¬
son Phillips. Intro, by Ernest Newman. New York: Alfred A.
Knopf, 1930.
Eastman, Shelia, and Timothy J. McGee. Barbara Pentland. Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 1983.
Elkins-Marlow, Laurine. "Gena Branscombe, American Composer."
Ph.D. diss., University of Texas at Austin, 1981.
Friedland, Bea. Louise Ferranc, 1804-75: Composer, Performer, Scholar.
Ann Arbor, Mich.: UMI Research Press, 1981.
-. "Louise Ferranc (1804-75): Composer, Performer, Scholar." Mu¬
sical Quarterly 60/2 (April 1974): 257-74.
Gaume, Matilda. "Ruth Crawford. A Promising Young Composer in
New York, 1929-30." American Music 5/1 (spring 1987): 74-84.
-. Ruth Crawford Seeger: Memoirs, Memories, Music. Metuchen,
N.J.: Scarecrow Press, 1986.
Glackens, Ira. Yankee Diva: Lillian Nordica and the Golden Days of
Opera. New York: Coleridge Press, 1963.
Green, Jeffrey. "Conversation with Josephine Harreld Love: Reminis¬
cences of Times Past." The Black Perspective in Music 18/1,2
(1990): 179-213.
Hallman, Diana Ruth. "The Pianist Fannie Bloomfield Zeisler in Ameri¬
can Music and Society." Master's thesis, University of Maryland,
1983.
Hallmark, Rufus. "The Ruckert Lieder of Robert and Clara Schumann."
19th-Century Music 14/1 (summer 1990): 3-30.
382 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Handy/ D. Antoinette. "Conversation with Mary Lou Williams." The

Black Perspective in Music 8/2 (fall 1980): 194-214.
Harris, Carl, Jr. "Conversation with Undine Smith Moore: Composer
and Music Teacher." The Black Perspective in Music 13/1 (spring
1985): 78-90.
Henderson, Robert. "Elisabeth Lutyens." Musical Times 104 (August
1963): 51-55.
Holsinger, Bmce Wood. "The Flesh of the Voice: Embodiment and the
Homoerotics of Devotion in the Music of Hildegard of Bingen
[1098-1179]." Signs 19/1 (fall 1993): 92-125.
Jackson, Barbara Garvey. "Florence Price, Composer." The Black Per¬
spective in Music 5/1 (spring 1977): 30-43.
Jepson, Barbara. "For an Uncommon Woman, Fanfare Comes Full Circle
[Joan Tower]." The New York Times, 2 January 1994, pp. 29, 36.
-. "Looking Backward: An Interview with Doriot Anthony Dwyer."
Feminist Art Journal 5/3 (fall 1976): 21-24.
-. "Ruth Crawford Seeger: A Study in Mixed Accents." Heresies
3/2 (summer 1980): 38, 40-43.
Kerr, Jessica M. "Mary Harvey—The Lady Dering." Music and Letters
25/1 (January 1944): 23-33.
Kravitt, Edward. "The Lieder of Alma Schindler-Mahler." Music Review
49 (1988): 190-204.
Kupferberg, Herbert. The Mendelssohns: Three Generations of Genius.
New York: Scribner's, 1972.
Lerner, Ellen. "Music of Selected Contemporary American Women
Composers: A Stylistic Analysis." Master's thesis, University of
Massachusetts at Amherst, 1976.
Lundy, Anne. "Conversation with Ernestine Jesse Covington Dent: Pio¬
neer Concert Pianist." The Black Perspective in Music 12/2 (fall
1984): 244-65.
Mahler, Alma. And the Bridge Is Love. New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jova-
novich, 1958.
Merrill, Lindsey. "Mrs. H. H. A. Beach: Her Life and Works." Ph.D.
diss., University of Rochester, 1963.
Miles, Marmaduke Sidney. "The Solo Piano Works of Mrs. H. H. A.
Beach." D.M.A. diss., Peabody Conservatory, 1985.
Milinowski, Marta. Teresa Carreno: “By the Grace of God.” New York:
Da Capo Press, 1979. A reprint of the 1940 edition.
Myers, Roland. "Augusta Holmes: A Meteoric Career." Musical Quar¬
terly 53/3 (July 1967): 365-76.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 383

Prizer, William F. "Isabella d'Este and Lucrezia Borgia as Patrons of

Music: The Frotolla at Mantua and Ferrara." Journal of the
American Musicological Society 38/1 (spring 1985): 1-33.
Raney, Carolyn. "Francesca Caccini, Musician to the Medici, and her
Primo libro.” Ph.D. diss., New York University, 1971.
-. "Francesca Caccini's Primo libro." Music and Letters 48/4 (Octo¬
ber 1967): 350-57.
-. "Vocal Style in the Works of Francesca Caccmi." Bulletin of the
National Association of Teachers of Singing 23/3 (February 1966):
26-29.
Reich, Nancy B. Clara Schumann: The Artist and the Woman. Ithaca,
N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1985.
-. "Clara Schumann: Old Sources, New Readings," with Anna Bur¬
ton, M.D. Musical Quarterly 70/3 (summer 1984): 332-54.
-. "The Lieder of Clara Schumann." Brahms Society Newsletter
12/2 (fall 1994): 1-4.
-. "Louise Reichardt." In Ars Musica, Ars Scientia: Festschrift
Heinrich Hiischen. Koln: Gitarre & Laute Verlag, 1980, pp.
369-77.
-. "The Power of Class: Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel." In Mendels¬
sohn and His World, ed. R. Larry Todd. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton
University Press, 1991, pp. 86-99.
-. "Rebecca Clarke: An Uncommon Woman." Sounds Australian;
Journal of Australian Music 40 (summer 1993-94): 14-16.
-. "Rare Finds: A Clara Schumann Re-Discovery." Keyboard Clas¬
sics, September-October 1989, pp. 18-22.
Rosand, Ellen. "Barbara Strozzi, virtuosissima cantatrice: The Compos¬
er's Voice." Journal of the American Musicological Society 31/2
(summer 1978): 241-81.
Rosen, Judith. Grazyna Bacewicz. Her Life and Work. Los Angeles:
Friends of Polish Music, University of Southern California, 1984.
Rosenstiel, Leonie. The Life and Works of Lili Boulanger. Rutherford,
N.J.: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 1978.
-. Nadia Boulanger: A Life in Music. New York: W. W. Norton,
1982.
Roxseth, Yvonne. "Antonia Bembo, Composer to Louis XIV." Musical
Quarterly 23/2 (April 1937): 147-69.
Rubin, Emanuel. "Jeannette Meyers Thurber and the National Conser¬
vatory of Music." American Music 8/1 (fall 1990): 294-319.
Scott, Marian. "Maddalena Lombardini, Madame Syrman." Music and
Letters 14/2 (April 1933): 149-63.
384 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Shaffer, Karen A., and Neva Garner Greenwood. Maud Powell: Pioneer
American Violinist. Ames: Iowa State University Press, 1988.
Silbert, Dorris. "Francesca Caccini, called 'La cecchina'."Musical Quar¬
terly 32/1 (January 1946): 50-62.
Sirota, Victoria Ressmayer. "The Life and Works of Fanny Mendelssohn
Hensel." D.M.A. diss., Boston University School for the Arts,
1981.
Smith, Catherine Parsons, and Cynthia S. Richardson. Mary Carr Moore,
American Composer. Women and Culture Series. Ann Arbor:
University of Michigan Press, 1987.
Smith, Richard Langham. "Sister of Perpetual Indulgences: Cecile
Chaminade's 50th Anniversary of Her Death." Musical Times
135 (December 1994): 740-44.
Smyth, Ethel. A Final Burning of Boats. London: Longmans, Green,
1928.
-.As Time Went On. London: Longmans, Green, 1936.
-. Streaks of Life. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1922.
-. What Happened Next. London: Longmans, Green, 1940.
Sollins, Susan. "Interview with Betsy Jolas." Feminist Art fournal 2/3 (fall
1973): 16-17, 22.
St. John, Christopher. Ethel Smyth: A Biography. With additional chap¬
ters by V. Sackville-West and Kathleen Dale. London: Longmans,
Green, 1959.
Stookes, Sacha. "Some Eighteenth-Century Women Violinists." Monthly
Musical Record 84/1 (January 1954): 14-17.
Talalay, Kathryn. "Philippa Duke Schuyler, Pianist/Composer/Writer."
The Black Perspective in Music 10/1 (summer 1982): 43-68.
Tick, Judith. Ruth Crawford Seeger. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
forthcoming.
-. "Ruth Crawford's Spiritual Concept: The Sound-Ideals of an
Early American Modernist." fournal of the American Musicologi-
cal Society 44/2 (summer 1991): 221-61.
Turner, Patricia. "In Retrospect: Florence Cole Talbert." The Black Per¬
spective in Music 12/1 (spring 1984): 57-79.
Tuthill, Burnette. "Mrs. H. H. A. Beach." Musical Quarterly 26/3 (July
1940): 297-306.
Ullrich, Hermann. "Maria Theresia Paradis (1759-1824) als Musikpada-
gogin." Musikerziehung 14/1 (September 1960): 9-15.
——. "Maria Theresia Paradis and Mozart." Music and Letters 27/4
(October 1946): 224-33.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 385

Ware, W. Porter, and Thaddeus C. Lockard, Jr. P.T. Barnum Presents

Jenny Lind: The American Tour of the Swedish Nightingale.
Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1980.
Von Gunden, Heidi. The Music of Pauhne Oliveros. Metuchen, N.J.:
Scarecrow Press, 1983.
Wilding-White, Ray. "Remembering Ruth Crawford Seeger: An Inter¬
view with Charles and Peggy Seeger." American Music 6/4 (win¬
ter 1988): 442-54.
Wood, Elizabeth. Ethel Smyth. London: Bloomsbury Publishing, forth¬
coming.
Index

Numbers in italics denote illustrations.

Abbate, Carolyn, 367 Auric, Georges, 243

Abbey, Henry Eugene, 136, 139 Aurora String Quartet, 327
Abrams, Miriam, 338 Austen, Jane, 73, 74, 284, 287
Academic careers, 325-26, 343, 359-62 Ax, Emanuel, 355
Accademia Filharmonica, Verona, 44n,
45 Babbitt, Milton, 347
Accomplishment, social, music as, Bach, Johann Sebastian, 150, 209, 281
73-79, 179-83, 300 Balfour, Betty, 318
Alfonso II d'Este, Duke of Ferrara, 50-51 Ballard, Christophe, 64
Allen, Lew, 136 Balsam, Arthur, 270
Amateur musicians, 179-83, 282; Barber, Samuel, 261
composers, 206, 323-24; female Bargiel, Woldemar, 100
stereotype, 282, 323-24; medieval, Barnet, Hinda, 263
28-29; Renaissance, 37, 40-42 Baroque, xii, xiii, 55-69; Venetian
American Academy in Rome, 235 conservatories, 65-69; women
American Composers' Orchestra, 349 composers, 55-56, 60-64
American Conservatory, Chicago, 265, Barrere, Georges, 235
269, 304 Barry, Betty, 257
American Conservatory, Fontainebleau, Barthes, Roland, 363, 367
239, 240 Bartok, Bela, 240, 331, 354
American Folk Songs for Children Bartolozzi, Francesco, 75
(Crawford-Seeger), 310 Bassoon, 66, 250, 263
American Music Center, 328 Bauer, Harold, 235
American Musicological Society, 361 Baur, Clara, 184
American Society of University Bayadere, La (Candeille), 88
Composers, 328 Baylis, Lilian, 286
American Symphony Orchestra, 254 Bayreuth, Germany, 124, 176
American Women Composers, Inc., 329 B.B.C. band, 284, 285
Anderson, Eva, 248 B.B.C. Chamber Music Ensemble, 321
Anderson, Marian, 273-74, 275, 276-77 Beach, Amy Marcy, 223-25, 247
Ara, Ugo, 234, 235 Beecham, Sir Thomas, 295
Arbos, Enrique, 313 Beethoven, Ludwig van, 91, 208, 209,
Archive of American Folklore, 308, 311 218, 354, 355
Argento, Dominick, 331 Beethoven Conservatory, St. Louis, 248
Artusi, Giovanni Maria, 43 Belari, Emilio, 125, 126
Association for the Advancement of Benet, Gillian, 339, 340
Women, 188 Berg, Alban, 305, 307
Atmosphere As a Fluid System, The Bergen, Flora Batson, 136
(Larsen), 341-42 Berger, Arthur, 246
388 INDEX

Berkshire Festival, 234-35, 236 Bridge, Frank, 236, 313, 316

Berkshire Quartet, 232-34 Briggs, Hedley, 318
Berlin, Germany, 170-71, 268; Bronte sisters, 284, 287
Hochschule ftir Musik, 254, 268-69; Brower, Edith, 211, 212
Sing-Akademie, 115-16 Brown, Lew, 136
Berlin Conservatory, 109, 111, 112-13 Brown, Mildred, 266
Berlioz, Hector, 208 Bruch, Max, 106
Bernacchi, Antonio, 81, 8In Biilow, Hans von, 175-76
Bestandig, Otto, 171 Bunbury, H., 75'
Bethune, Thomas Greene, 135 Burney, Charles, 66, 68, 80
Bigot, Marie, 144 Butt, Dame Clara, 282
Birthday of the Infanta, The (Lutyens), Buttrey, Gertmde, 272
316-19
“Black Patti's Troubadours," 141-42 Caccini, Francesca, xiv, 55-56, 60-61,
Black Topaz (Tower), 347 366
Black women concert artists, 135, 273 Caccini, Giulio, 55
Blackwood, Easley, 246 Cage, John, 347n
Blaisdell, Frantis, 271, 272 Camargo Society, 316-17
Blake-Alverson, Margaret, 131-34 Candeille, Julie, 88
"Blind" competitions, 329-30 Canon, 367-68, 370
Blitzstein, Marc, 246 Cantatas, 62, 64, 80, 85, 214
Bloch, Ernest, 235 Carnegie Hall, New York, 254, 271
Block, Adrienne Fried, 372 Carnegie Recital Hall, 262, 272
Boccaccio, 31, 199 Carreno, Teresa, 226-27
Bolcom, William, 357 Carter, Elliott, 246
Book of the Courtier, The (Castiglione), Casella, Alfredo, 235
37 Casino Filharmonico, Venice, 67
Boretz, Ben, 347 Castelloza, 22, 23, 26-27
Bosse, Abraham, 58 Castiglione, Baldesar, 37
Boston, 194; Handel and Haydn Society, Caston, Saul, 258n
131, 224 Castrati, xii, 283n
Boston Fadette Lady Orchestra, 194-97 Casulana, Maddalena, xiv
Boston Symphony Orchestra, 223 Catena, op. 47 (Lutyens), 321
Bottrigari, Hercole, 43-49, 50 Catherine, ou La belle fermiere
Boulanger, Lili, 242, 242n, 339, 340 (Candeille), 88
Boulanger, Nadia, 239-40, 241, 242-46 Catherine de Medici, 199, 199n
Boulez, Pierre, 246 CBS radio, 268, 309
Bousquet, Georges, 149, 149n Cecil, Lord Robert, 292
Bowers, Jane, 360 Cecile Chaminade: A Bio-Bibhography
Brahms, Johannes, 91, 100, 101, 105-6, (Citron), 363, 363n
157, 163, 164, 257; correspondence Cello, 66, 267n, 272, 285
with Clara Schumann, 104-7 Cephale ed Procris (La Guerre), 64
Brass instmments, 192, 282; women Chadwick, George W., 219, 304
excluded from, xiii, 192, 193, 203, 358 Chamber ensembles, 253; all-female,
Breakfast Rhythms I and II (Tower), 347 xiii-xiv, 271-72; Berkshire Quartet,
Breitkopf and Hartel, 165, 165n 232-34; exclusion of women from, xiii.
Brett, Philip, 365 See also Instmmental ensembles
Brico, Antonia, 252, 253-59, 271 Chamber music, 231-37; female
Brico Symphony Orchestra, 254, 258-59 composers of, 62, 85, 327, 328
INDEX 389

Chaminade, Cecile, 226, 341, 342, 359, Composers, 167, 208-9, 215, 218, 288,
363-65 350, 370
Chant 1942, The (Creston), 262 Composers, female, xiv-xv, 11, 206, 247,
Chants for Women’s Choms (Crawford- 335, 338; amateur, 206, 323-24;
Seeger), 307 Beach, 223-25, 247; Boulanger (Lili),
Chapman, Oscar, 276 242, 339, 340; Boulanger (Nadia), 239,
Chappell, S. Arthur, 103, 159 240, 242, 242n; Caccini, 55-56,
Chatterton, Charles F., 139 60-61; Candeille, 88; Chaminade,
Cheng, Angela, 339, 340 226, 341, 342, 359, 363n-65;
Chembini, Maria Luigi, 209 Crawford-Seeger, 303-11; Daniels,
Chiabrera, Gabriello, 61 219; Ekizian, 341, 342; Hensel (Fanny
Chicago, 198, 226, 232, 248, 251; Mendelssohn), 143, 147-51, 165, 339;
American Conservatory, 265-69, 304; Hildegard of Bingen, 14, 16-20; La
Civic Orchestra, 266, 266n, 305; Guerre, 62-64; Larson, 341, 342; Le
Women's Symphony Orchestra, 249 Beau, 167-74, 206; Lutyens, 312-322;
Chicago Symphony Orchestra, 232, 233, Martinez, 80-84; obstacles, xiv, 87-88,
265, 266 144, 146-47, 167-68, 170, 206,
Chickering, George FI., 194 211-18, 278, 286-88, 291-96,
Chopm, Frederic, 91 323-30; obstacles in getting performed,
Choral singing, xii-xiii, 3-10, 283 355-58; obstacles in getting published,
Chretien de Troyes, 28-29 143, 148-49, 165-66, 167-68,
Christian antiquity, 3-10 294-95; Paradis, 85; Renaissance, 43;
Church: choirs, xiii, 3-5; exclusion of Schroter, 87; Schumann (Clara), 92,
women from music, xii-xiii, 3, 6 96, 153-55, 165, 339, 340; Smith
Citron, Marcia J., 359-72 (Alice Mary), 214; Smith (Julia), 261;
Civic Orchestra of Chicago, 266, 266n, Smyth (Ethel), 156, 162-66, 206,
305 225-26, 278; supposed innate
Civic Orchestra of New York, 271 inferiority of women, xiv, 153, 206-18,
Clarinet, 253-54, 265-72, 320 223-26, 242, 291-92, 297-302;
Clarke, Helen J., 211-13 Tailleferre, 339, 340; Tower, 343-58;
Classic period, 73-88; composers, 80-81, Van de Vate, 323-32; women's style in
83-88; "feminine" instmments of, xiii, composition, 369-70; Zwilich, 341,
192; instmmentalists, 80-81, 83-86, 342, 357, 357n. See also "Women
88; singers, 80-86, 88 composer question"
Clef d'amors, La (ed. Doutrepont), 28 Composers in America (Reis), 297
Cleveland Gazette, 141 Concert artists, 85, 179, 192; acceptance
Cleveland Women's Orchestra, 335n of women as, xii, xiii, 192, 205, blacks
Club movement, xv, 188-91, 324-25 as, 135, 273; management of, 188. See
Cole, Ulric, 261 also Instmmentalists; Pianists; Singers;
College Music Society, 325 Violinists
Collett, Mme. Valborg, 304 Concerto for Flute and Orchestra
Collins, Judy, 254 (Chaminade), 341, 342
Colored American, The, 141 Concertino for Harp and Orchestra
Committee for the Recognition of (Tailleferre), 339, 340
Women in the Musical Profession, 252 Concertmistress, mixed orchestra, 266
Competitions, 325, 328; blind, 329-30, Concerto delle donne, 50-52
351-53 Concerto for Orchestra (Tower), 351
Composer-performer, roles linked, xiv Concerts, early, 43-49, 63, 65-68
390 INDEX

Conductors, female, xiv, xv, 46, 194, 247, Dark Nebulae (Van de Vate), 331
248, 249, 253, 335; Brico, 252, Davidson, Harry, 161
253-59; Falletta, 338-42; Petrides, De Ahna, Heinrich, 114
253, 260-64; Scheerer, 271-72 De Brasses, Charles, 65-66
Conservatories, xi, xiv-xv, 184; sex Debussy, Claude, 240, 256, 315
discrimination in, xiv-xv, 211, 220; Deconstmction, 363
Venetian, xiii, 65-69, 192, 199n De Falla, Manuel, 235, 236
Convents, xi, xii, xiii, xiv; early Christian, Dello Joio, Norman, 261
6-10; medieval, xiv, 11, 12, 13, 14-20; Delsarte, Francois, 123, 125, 126
Renaissance, xiii, xiv, 43-49, 192 De Manziarly, Marcelle, 246
Coolidge, Elizabeth Sprague, 231-37, 238 Denver Symphony, 257-58
Copland, Aaron, 239-40, 242-46, 261 DeWolf Sisters, 136
Coppet, Edward de, 232 Dia, Countess of, 21-22, 23
Corigliano, }ohn, 357 Diamond, David, 246, 261
Cornet, 43, 48, 203, 204 Dieppe, Ludwig, 109
Cosa, Francesco del, 40 Dietrich, Albert and Clara, 106
Counterpoint, 223, 331-32; study of, Dobree, Georgina, 320
207, 211, 220-21 Douglass, Fred, 139
Counter Reformation, xii, 43-44 Downes, Mrs. Olin, 255
Court musicians, female: bar against, xiii; Drouais, Francois Hubert, 82
Baroque, 55-56, 60-64; Classic period, Drums, 29, 250
87; medieval, 22, 28, 33; Renaissance, Duets (Tower), 353
37-39 Dugasseau, Charles, 149, 149n
Cowell, FFenry, 304 Dukas, Paul, 341
Craig, Edith, 286, 286n Dulcimer, 33
Cramer, Carl Friedrich, 87 Dunger, Charles, 138
Cramer, J. B., 113, 146 D’un soir triste (Boulanger), 339, 340
Crane, Julia Ettie, 184 D’un matin de printemps (Boulanger),
Crawford-Seeger, Ruth, 303-5, 306, 339, 340
307-11; her "credo," 309-10
Creativity, musical, sex-prejudiced view Eastman School of Music, 248, 260, 323,
of, xiv, 153, 206-10, 211-13, 242, 331
291-92, 297-302 Egeria, Abbess, 4
Creston, Paul, 261-62 Egk, Werner, 307
Crickboom, Matthieu, 259 Ehlert, Louis, 111, 112, 113
Critical theory, 362-63 Ekizian, Michelle, 341, 342
Cmmb, George, 347 Eliot, George, 159
Cubli, Antonia, 68 Elizabeth I, Queen, 199, 199n
Curtis School of Music, 260 Emelianoff, Andre, 348
Cusick, Suzanne, 366 Emma (Austen), 74, 77-79
Enesco, Georges, 235, 257
Da Capo Chamber Players, 343, 345, Engel, Carl, 237
348, 349, 354 Enser, Helen, 263
D'Agoult, Countess Marie, 175 Epstein, Lonny, 262
Dame, Joke, 366 Epstein, Richard, 234
Damen Orchester, 192-93, 253 Etude magazine, 179, 184
Damrosch, Walter, 240, 244-45 Ewen, David, 297
Daniels, Mabel, 219-22 Ewing, Alexander, 156, 157
D'Arco, Livia, 50, 52 Excelsior Quartette, 136
INDEX 391

Fadette Lady Orchestra, 194-97 "Gender, Professionalism, and the

Falletta, JoAnn, 336, 338-42 Musical Canon" (Citron), 361
Fanfare for the Uncommon Woman Georgia Minstrels, 136
(Tower), 35In Gernsheim, Friedrich, 170
Favart, Marie Justine Benoit, 82 Gilmore, Patrick, 122, 127
Fay, Amy, 109-10, 184; Etude article of, Giralda, Signora, 56, 60
184, 184n, 185-87; letters of, 110-21; Glass, Philip, 357
Music article of, 217, 217n, 218 Gliewmeden vs. ghgmann, 28
Female Pipings in Eden (Smyth), 278-96, Glock, William, 320
297 Godfrey, Sir Dan, 295
"Feminine" forms of music, 223 Godmillow, Jill, 254
"Feminine" instmments, xiii, 192 Gordon Quartet, 235
Feminist musicology, 361-70, 371-72 Gorger, Theodor, 173
Feminist theory, 361 Gounod, Charles, 149, 149n
Ferrara, 40, 43, 47; concerto delle donne, Graham, Martha, 243
50-52 Grainger, Percy, 233, 304
Grants, competition for, 325, 328,
Fiddle, 28-29
352-53
Fiedler, Arthur, 272
Grau, Maurice, 136
Fine, Irving, 246
Grove, George, 103
Fiorino, Hippolito, 47, 49
Guardi, Francesco, 67
Fischhof, Josef, 95, 95n
Guarini, Anna (La Guarina), 50, 52
Fletcher, Polyxena, 314-15
Guck, Marion, 371-72
Flonzaley Quartet, 232, 235
Guglielmi, Maria, 69, 69n
Flute, 41, 66, 192, 271, 272
Guinzberg, Mrs. FT A., 272
Folk music, American, 308, 309, 310-11
Guitar, 73; judged a "feminine"
Folksong: USA (Lomax), 311
instrument, xiii, 192
Folkstone, Lady, 282, 282n
Foucault, Michel, 363
Hadumoth (Le Beau), 167-74
Fran^aix, Jean, 246
Hale, Philip, 223-24
Frank, Nahan, 203
Halle Band, London, 285
Frari, Giacoma, 68
Hamley, Barbara (Lady Ernie), 160
Frau und Musik (Rieger), 367
Handbells, 29-30
Freeman, Ruth, 272
Handel, George Frederick, 208
French horn, 68
Handel and Haydn Society, Boston, 131,
Frieberg, Carl, 262
224
Friedlander, Thekla, 157, 159, 161, 162,
Hanson, Howard, 235, 248
163 Harbison, John, 357
Fuchs, Joseph and Lillian, 270 Harmat, Artur, 234
Harmony, 223; study of, 207, 211, 220;
Gabrilowitsch, Ossip, 235 teaching of, 239, 240
Gadski, Johanna, 203 Harp, 28, 31, 73, 76, 88; double, 43; a
Gaelic Symphony, in E minor, op. 32 "feminine" instmment, xiii, 192, 202;
(Beach), 223-25 ten-string, 19-20
Gallop, Jane, 361 Harpists in orchestras, traditionally
Gaskell, Elizabeth, 287 female, 192, 201, 202, 261, 285
Gay issues, 365 Harpsichord, xiii, 43, 62, 64, 68, 81
Gender and the Musical Canon (Citron), Harris, Roy, 246
359, 361-62, 364, 367-68 Harrison, Lou, 327
392 INDEX

Harty, Sir Hamilton, 285 282-85, 291, 325, 328; Renaissance,

Hasse, Johann, 65 40-42, 43; 20th century, 247-50, 257,
Hauer, Josef, 305 261, 265-72. See also Pianists,-
Haydn, Franz Joseph, 80, 218, 262 Violinists; and see other specific
Hein, Paul, 172 instruments
Heinemann, Ada, 204 Instrumental music: first female
Henderson, William J., 249 composer of, 62-64; medieval convent,
Henschel, George, 157, 162-63, 164-65 17. See also Chamber music; Concerts
Hensel, Fanny Mendelssohn, 143-44, Instruments: composing for, 350; in
145, 146-52, 156, 339, 356; Citron's liturgical music, 18, 19-20; sexual
research on, 359, 361, 361n, 362; as stereotyping of, xiii, 37, 39, 192, 200,
composer, 143, 143n, 147-51; 202-3, 204
discouraged by family from publication, "In Tall Grass" (Crawford-Seeger), 307
143, 148-49; as pianist, 143, 148, 149, International League of Women
150-51; publication of compositions, Composers, 323, 325, 326-29
148, 151, 165 International Musician, 328
Hensel, Wilhelm, 147-52 passim International Organ Society, 355
Herzogenberg, Heinrich von, 162 International Society for Contemporary
Hess, Dame Myra, 235 Music (ISCM), 309
Hildegardvon Bingen, 11, 13, 14, 15, Interpretative ability, xiii, 206, 210, 212,
16-20, 356 240; sexual aesthetics in criticism,
Hiller, Johann Adam, 87 226-27
Hindemith, Paul, 269, 304 Isbin, Sharon, 358
Hitz, Luise, 168 Island Prelude (Tower), 351, 35In
Floch Conservatory, Frankfurt, 107 Island Rhythms (Tower), 349n, 351, 351n
Hofmann, Josef, 304
Holler, Wenceslaus, 57 Jacobsen, Sascha, 270
Holmes, Augusta, 224, 226 Japan, women composers in, 329
Honegger, Arthur, 243 Jerusalem, around a.d. 400, 4-5
Horn, 68, 263, 272, 282 Jeux a l’honneur de la victoire, Les (La
Hummel, Johann Nepomuk, 151 Guerre), 62
Huneker, James, 179, 182 Joachim, Amalie, 103n, 105
Hurok, Sol, 276n Joachim, Joseph, 100, 101, 102, 103, 105,
Hymns, 3, 4-5, 9-10 114, 115, 159, 281, 285
Jones, Dick, 136
Ickes, Harold L., 274, 276-77 Jones, Sissieretta (Mathilde S. Joyner, the
Instmmental ensembles: San Vito "Black Patti"), 135-36, 137, 138-42;
Convent, Ferrara, 43; Venetian as concert artist, 135-41; in vaudeville
conservatories, 65-66, 67, 68, 192. See and opera, 135, 141-42; at White
also Chamber ensembles; Orchestras House, 138
Instrumentalists, xiii-xiv, xv, 192, fongleresse, 28, 30
281-82; Baroque, 62-64, 66; blind Jongleur (joglar), 26n, 28
auditions, 329; classical period, 80-81, Journal de Paris, 88
83-86, 88; composers and, 350,- Joyner, Mathilde S. See Jones, Sissieretta
demands of opera vs. concert orchestra Juilliard School of Music, 250, 260, 262
on, 203-5; medieval, 28, 29-33; 19th
into 20th century, 192-205; obstacles Kahscher, Alfred, 171
for women, xiii, 192, 198-205, 247, Kansas City Symphony Orchestra, 272
251-52, 261, 263, 265, 267, 270, Karsavina, Tamara, 318
INDEX 393

Kelly-Gadol, Joan, 37 Levi, Hermann, 292-93

Kerker, Gustav, 202-3 Levy's American Band, 138, 139
Keyboard players, female, xiii, xiv Lewes, George Henry, 159
Keynes, Maynard, 317 Liberazione di Ruggerio dall’isola
Kim, Earl, 352 d’Alcina, La (Caccini), 55
King, W. Owens, 136 Lieder, 87, 360, 360n. See also Songs
Klingemann, Carl, 147 Liederbuch (Lang), 165n
Kobialka, Daniel, 327 Lieder und Balladen, op. 3 (Smyth), 163n
Kodaly, Zoltan, 341 Life of Saint Macrina, The (St. Gregory of
Kolb, Barbara, 324, 352 Nyssa), 6
Kolisch Quartet, 35 Limberg-Dengel, Eugenie, 263
Kortschak, Hugo, 232-33, 234 List, Emilie, 97
Kovar, Eleanor, 263 Liszt, Franz, 91, 109, 116-21, 175
Kozeiuch, Leopold, 85, 86 Litchfield County Festivals, 233
Kreisler, Fritz, 234 Littlehales, Lillian, 235
Kristeva, Julie, 363, 367 Liturgical music, Hildegard von Bingen
Kroll, Lily, 270 on, 17-20
Kullak, Theodore, 109 Liturgical singing, 11,14
Liturgical songs: Caccini, 55; Hildegard
Lacan, Jacques, 361, 363 von Bingen, 14, 16-17
Lady at the Positive Organ, The (Unicorn Loeffler, Charles Martin, 235
Tapestries), 32 Lombardim-Sirmen, Maddalena, 65, 69,
Lady Folkstone's String Band, 282 69n, 199, 199n
Lady orchestras, 192-97, 253, 282n London, 214; Promenade Concerts, 315
Lady Playing the Virginals (Holler), 57 London Philharmonic, 285
Lady with a Harp (Sully), 76 London String Quartet, 235
La Guerre, Elisabeth-Claude Jacquet de, London Symphony Orchestra, 285
xiv, 62-64, 356 Long Beach Woman's Orchestra, 248
La Guerre, Marin de, 64 Longy, Georges, 234
Lambert, Constant, 316, 317-18 Lopokova, Lydia, 317, 318
Lamond, Felix, 235 Lorraine, Renee Cox, 370
La Motte, Antoine Houdar de, 64 Louis XIV, King of France, 62-63
Lang, Josephine, 165, 165n Lucuvich, Antonia, 68
Larsen, Libby, 341, 342 Ludwig II, King of Bavaria, 175, 177n
Latilla, Gaetan, 66 Lute, xiii, 40-41, 43, 58-59, 199n
Laurent, Georges, 235 Lutyens, Sir Edwin, 312, 317
Lavoie-Herz, Djane, 304 Lutyens, Elisabeth, 312-22; on mode of
League of Women Composers, 323, 325, composing, 321-22
326-29 Luzzaschi, Luzzasco, 47, 49, 50, 52
Le Beau, Luise Adolpha, 167-74, 206 Lyra-viol, 43
Leginska, Ethel, 249 Lyre, 28-29
Leipzig Conservatory, 156, 162 Lytton, Lady Edith, 312
Leipzig Gewandhaus, 91
Leitert, Johann Georg, 116, 117 Magazin der Musik (periodical), 87
Lenox Quartet, 235 Magnes, Frances, 262
Leonardo Ensemble, 321 Mahpiero, Francesco, 235
Leschetizky, Theodor, 314 Manziarly, Marcelle de, 316
Letz Quartet, 235 "March of the Women, The" (Smyth),
Leventritt, Edgar, 270, 272 278
394 INDEX

Margherita Gonzaga, Duchess of Ferrara, Morini, Erica, 270

45, 50 Motet, op. 27 (Lutyens), 319
Marguerite de Navarre, 199, 199n Motto, Marie, 313-14, 315
Maria Theresia, Empress, 85 Movie orchestras, 251, 265
Marimba, 261 Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 199, 218,
Markevitch, Igor, 246 262, 284
Martinez, Marianne von, 80-84 Muller, Wilhelm, 114
Martinii, Bohuslav, 235 Munich Conservatory, 219-22
Masselos, William, 262 Musical America,' 255, 328
Matthews, C. H., 136 Musical Art Quartet, 270
Maus, Fred, 371-72 Musical Association of London, 214
McClary, Susan, 366 Music clubs, xv, 188-91, 324-25
Meadows-White, Frederick, 214-16 Music criticism, 167, 330; sexual
Medici, Francesco de', 52 aesthetics in, 223-27
Medici, Giuliano de', 37 Music education of women, 282,
Medici court, Florence, 50, 55 299-300, 325, 326-27; inequalities in,
Mehrkens, Adolf, 171 xiv-xv, 211-13, 215, 220-22, 282-86;
Mehta, Zubin, 349 ratio of male to female composition
Mendelssohn, Abraham, 143-44 students, 357
Mendelssohn, Fanny. See Hensel, Fanny Music for Cello and Orchestra (Tower),
Mendelssohn, Felix, 143, 143n, 144, 147, 349n, 351n
148, 156, 163, 177; death, 151; on Musicians Emergency Fund, 255
publication of compositions by his Musicians Symphony Orchestra, 256,
sister, 148-49 271
Mendelssohn, Rebecca, 143, 147, 150 Musicians' Union, New York, 202, 204,
Menestrelles vs. menstreus, 28 252, 258
Menotti, Gian Carlo, 261 Musicology: Citron, 359-72
Menzel, Adolph Friedrich, 102 Music patrons, xv, 188, 189, 231-37
Mercure galant (monthly), 62 Music schools, 80, 85, 87, 184, 186, 252.
Messiaen, Olivier, 347 See also Conservatories
Mesteschkin, Elfrieda Bos, 257, 272 Music Study in Germany (Fay), 109
Metastasio, Pietro, 80-81 Music theory, 371-72
Metropolitan Opera, New York, 123, 136,
203, 225, 255, 271, 273 Napier, Mrs. William, 161
Meyerwisch, Johanna, 172, 173 National Association for American
Michelangelo Buonarroti the Younger, 55, Composers and Conductors, 308
60 National Association of Composers,
Middle Ages, women in music, 3-33; in U.S.A., 328
convents, xiv, 11-20; minstrels, xiii, National Endowment for the Arts, 329
28, 29-30; troubadours, 21-27 National Endowment for the
Milde, Hans Feodor and Rose Agthe von, Humanities, 331
162, 162n, 163 National Organization for Women, 327
Milhaud, Darius, 235, 242-43, 340 Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik, 95n, 98n,
Mill, John Stuart, 280, 280n, 289 171n
Miller, Robert, 347 New England Conservatory, 109, 122,
Minstrels, xiii, 28, 29-30 135, 219
Mitropoulos, Dimitri, 262-63 New Jersey Symphony Orchestra, 272
Molza, Tarquinia, 50 New Orleans Symphony Orchestra, 272
Moore, Charles, 236 New York Age, 135, 136
INDEX 395

New York City, 194, 251, 264, 270-72; concert vs. opera, 205; exclusion of
"Black Patti" in, 138-39; Civic women from, xiii, 192, 202-4, 205,
Orchestra, 271; Musicians Symphony 247, 251-52, 261, 263, 267, 270,
Orchestra, 256, 271; Musicians Union 282-85, 291, 325, 328; mixed, xv,
of, 202, 204, 252, 258; Vienna Damen 200-201, 203-5, 247-48, 249-50,
Orchester in, 192-93; women music 251-52, 254, 257, 261, 264, 266, 272;
teachers in, 185-87. See also Carnegie opera, 203-5, 251. See also Symphony
Hall; Metropolitan Opera orchestras
New York Herald, 138 Orchestrette of New York, 260-64;
New York Philharmonic, 259-60, 261, Petrides with, 260
262, 273, 349 Or do virtutum (Hildegard von Bingen),
New York Sun, 249 14
New York Times, The, 140, 193, 251 Organ, 64, 66; women players, 32-33
New York University, 259 Orlando (Woolf), 284, 284n
New York Women's Chamber Orchestra, Ormandy, Eugene, 262
271 Our Singing Country (Lomax), 310
New York Women's Symphony Ouverture (Hensel), 339
Orchestra, 252, 253, 254, 256-57, 271
Nichols, Caroline B., 194, 195-97, 253 Pactrez, Iris, 255
Night Fields (Tower), 346, 346n Paderewski, Ignace Jan, 304
Nordica, Lillian (L. Norton), 122-30; as Paine, John Knowles, 109
Elsa in Lohengrin, 124; opera debut of, Pankhurst, Emmeline, 284, 284n
128-29 Paradis, Maria Theresia von, 85-86
Norman-Neruda, Wilma, 281 Paris, 239, 307, 316; Concert Spirituel
Norris, Wesley, 136 series, 85; Trocadero, 127
North, Gladys, 235 Paris Conservatory, 198, 199, 204, 239
Norton, Amanda Allen, 122; letters of, Paris Opera, 66, 129, 202, 204
123, 125-30 Parnasse frangais (Tillet), 63
Nunnery Officials and Procession, 12 Passmore, Dorothy, 267n
Passmore, Mary, 267, 267n, 268
Oboe, 66, 68, 257, 263 Patrons, xv, 188, 189, 231-37
Ochs, Siegfried, 170 Patti, Adelina, 135, 139
O'Day, Caroline, 276 Percussion instmments, exclusion of
Ode to the Passions (Smith), 214 women from, xiii
Oliveira, Elmar, 358 Performance, 372
O'Neill, John, 122, 129 Performance of compositions, obstacles
Opera, xii, 50, 55; female composers of, to, 355-58
55, 62-63, 64, 167-74, 225; as him, Pergolesi, Giovanni, 65
370-71; viewed as "masculine" music, Peri, Jacopo, 55
223 Perlman, Itzhak, 352
Opera orchestras, 203-5, 251 Persinger, Louis, 260
Opera singers, xii, 55, 122; Anderson, Petrides, Frederique, 253, 259-64; with
273; castrati, xii; Jones, the "Black Orchestrette, 260; Women in Music
Patti," 141-142; Nordica, 122-30 newsletter, 247-48, 264
Oppens, Ursala, 358 Peverara, Laura (La Turcha), 50, 52
Orchestras: all-female, xm-xiv, 66, 67, Philadelphia Orchestra, 258n, 262
68, 192-97, 247-49, 251, 253, 254, Philo, Judaeus, 3
256-57, 260-64, 271-72; blind Philomena (Chretien de Troyes), 29
auditions, 329; chamber, 253, 271-72; Pia, Lodovico, 37
396 INDEX

Pianists, xv, 85, 88, 167; Carreno, Providence Academy of Music, 135
226-27; Epstein, 262; Fay, 109; Priiwer, Julius, 269
Paradis, 85-86; Schumann, 91, 96, Psalms, 4, 4n, 9-10, 14
98-103, 106-7, 114-15; Tower, Psaltery, 19, 28-29
344-45, 347 Publication of compositions, obstacles to,
Piano: a "feminine" instmment, xiii, 167-68, 169-70, 288-89, 326; for
192; playing for social women composers, 87-88, 143,
accomplishment, 73, 179-83 148-49, 165-66, 167-68, 294-95
Piano Concerto (Hommage to Beethoven) Pugno, Raoul, 242, 242n
(Tower), 349n Putnam, Herbert, 236
Piano concerto in A minor, op. 7 (Clara
Schumann), 92, 96, 153, 339, 340 Queen's Hall Orchestra, 283, 315, 315n
Piano concertos, Martinez, 80
Piano teachers, women as, 107, 110, 184. Radio, 237, 328; orchestras, 249, 251,
See also Teachers, women as 254, 268, 284
Piano trio in D minor, op. 11 (Hensel), Randegger, Alberto, Sr., 125
151 Ravel, Maurice, 240, 242, 316
Piano trio in G minor, op. 17 (Clara Reader-response theory, 362-63
Schumann), 154-55 Rebec, 29
Pieces for the Harpsichord (La Guerre), 64 Reception theory, 362-63
Pierce, Melusina Fay, 109 Recorder, 40, 43
Pierce, Will H., 136 Recordings, 251, 325, 326, 328, 351
Pistocchi, Francesco, 8In Redeker, Louise, 157, 159, 164
Piston, Walter, 246 Reich, Nancy, 355, 356, 367
Pittsburgh Gazette Times, 194 Reich, Steve, 357
Pittsfield, Mass., 232-35, 236, 237 Reinthaler, Karl, 105, 106
Pius X, Pope, 283n Reis, Claire, 297
Pizzetti, Ildebrando, 233, 235 Renaissance, women in music, xiii,
Platinum Spirals (Tower), 352, 352n 37-52; in convents, xiii, xiv, 43-49,
Plotnikoff, Eugene, 271 192; at court, 37-39
Pohl, Richard, 172-173 Rene II, Duke of Lorraine, court, 33
Polyphonic music, 43, 44n. See also Representation, 365, 372
Counterpoint Respighi, Ottorino, 235
Pond, Major James B., 135, 140 Rheinberger, Joseph, 219, 220
Popular music, women composers, 206 Richter, Alfred, 268
Porcairages, Azlais de, 22, 24-26 Ridge String Quartet, 327
Porpora, Nicola, 80 Rieger, Eva, 367, 370
Porta, Costanzo, 47 Rieter-Biedermann, J. Melchior, 106
Poulenc, Francis, 243 Risegari, Laura, 68
"Prayers of Steel" (Crawford-Seeger), 307 Rissolty-Rossoltry (Crawford-Seeger), 309
Pride and Prejudice (Austen), 73-74 Ritter, Fanny Raymond, 188-90
Primo libro (Caccini), 55 Robischeck, Robert, 269
Prince, Mrs. Sidney, 255-56 Rochberg, George, 331
Prix de Rome, 239, 242, 324 Roemaet-Rosanoff, Maria, 270
Processions, women musicians in, 12, 29 Romantic period, xiii, 192
Professionalism, 368 Rome, 50, 234-35; American Academy,
Prologue and Variations (Zwilich), 341, 235-36
342 Roosevelt, Eleanor, 273
Prova, 128, 128n Rosen, Judith, 339
INDEX 397

Rossi, Francesca, 68 98-101, 102, 103, 106-7, 114-15;

Roth Quartet, 235 correspondence with Brahms, 104-5,
Roussel, Albert, 235, 242 106-7; diary, 101, 103, 105-6,
Royal College of Music, 282n, 314, 316 154-55; letters to Robert, 92-93,
PvOyal Conservatory of Munich, 219-22 94-97, 101, 153-54; Reich's
Rubinstein, Anton, 91, 163-64 biography, 367; as teacher, 107;
Riibner, Cornelius, 171 mentioned, 109, 314
Rudhyar, Dane, 304 Schumann, Robert, 91, 97-107 passim,
Ruskin, John, 217 153, 154, 155, 163, 208, 224; diary,
Rzewski, Fred, 357 98-99, 154; illness and death, 99, 100;
letter to Clara, 93-94
Saber Dances (Ekizian), 341, 342 Schwabe, Mary, 156, 160-61
Sackville-West, Vita, 284, 284n Scriabin, Alexander, 304
St. Basil, 6, 7 Seashore, Carl E., 297-302
St. Cecilia, 199 Sebastiani, Fanny, 144
St. Gregory ofNyssa, 6-10 Seeger, Charles, 303, 305, 309-11
St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, 349-51, Selika, Maria, 141, 141 n
351n, 358 Sense of Hearing, The (Bosse), 58
St. Macrma, 6-7; funeral of, 8-10 Sequoia (Tower), 348-49, 35In, 353
Saint-Saens, Camille, 224 Seriahsm, 331, 347
St. Ursula, 14 Sermissy, Claudin de, 41
Salieri, Antonio, 85 Sex discrimination, 278-96; in music
Sand, George, 194n education, xiv-xv, 211-13, 215,
San Francisco Examiner, 338-42 220-22, 282-86; in musicians'
San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, employment, 251-52, 258, 261, 265,
267n, 327 267, 282-86; in teaching jobs, 186,
Sangiovanni, Antonio, 123, 126, 127, 221, 325-26; unequal pay, 184, 202
128, 129 Sexual aesthetics in criticism, 223-27
Santley, Charles, 164 Sexuality in music, 365, 372
San Vito, Convent of, Ferrara, 43-44; Sexual prejudice, xii-xv, 37, 157, 159-61,
concert described, 44-49 186, 191, 217, 278-302; creative
Sappho with a Harp, Boccaccio powers doubted, xiv, 153, 206-13, 242,
manuscript, 31 291-92, 297-302; against female
Sargent, John Singer, 158 composers, 87-88, 144, 146-47,
Scheerer, Jeannette, 253, 265-72 167-68, 170, 206-18, 223-26, 242,
Scheffel, Victor von, 168 278, 286-88, 291-96, 323-30,
Schindler, Kurt, 235 355-58, 367-69; against female
Schneider, Jean, 252, 272 conductors, 253, 254, 256, 258; as
Schoeffel, John B., 136 source of doubt and timidity in women,
Schonberg, Arnold, 235, 304, 312, 354 xiv, 87, 153, 163, 166, 187, 213; in
"Schon Rohtraut" (Smyth), 163, 163n teacher acceptance, 186-87; against
School of Musical Art, Jacksonville, women in mixed orchestras, xni, 192,
Florida, 304 200-201, 202-4, 205, 247, 251-52,
Schreurs, Joseph, 265-66 261, 263, 265, 267, 270, 282-85
Schroter, Corona, 87, 88, 360, 360n Sexual stereotyping: of instmments, xiii,
Schubert, Franz, 159, 208 37, 39, 192, 200, 202-3, 204; of music
Schumann, Clara, 91-108, 153-55, forms, 223; of women as amateurs,
156-57, 339, 340; as composer, 92, 96, 206, 323-24
153-55, 165; as concert pianist, 91, 96, Seyffardt, E. H., 171
398 INDEX

Shapero, Harold, 246 Stein, Gertrude, 243

Shawm, 33 Steinbach, Friz, 171
Shiffrin, David, 358 Stimmer, Tobias, 41
Signorini, Giovannibattista, 60 Stock, Frederick, 233-34, 266, 267, 268
Silver Ladders (Tower), 351, 351n Stockhausen, Julius, 106, 172
Silverstein, Ernest, 270 Stoeber, Emmeran, 234
Simon, Paul, 171 Stoeckel, Carl and Ellen, 233-34
Simrock (music publisher), 164 Stojowski, Sigismund, 254, 256
Singers: Anderson, 273-77; Candeille, Stone, Ellen, 272
88; castrati, xii, 283n; concert, 123, Stravinsky, Igor, 235, 242, 246, 304, 354
125, 135-41, 273; debuts, 128; Favart, Striggio, Alessandro, 52
82; Jones ("Black Patti"), 135-42, 173; Strinasacchi, Regina, 65, 199, 199n
Martinez, 80-84; Nordica, 122, 130; String Quartet (1931, Crawford-Seeger),
Schroter, 87; professional, emergence 303, 307, 309, 310
of, 50-52; secular, xii, xiv, xv, 50, Strings, 192, 199, 282, 284; large, women
women barred in church, xii-xiii, 3, 6; excluded from, xiii, 192, 193
women in church choirs and choruses, Strozzi, Barbara, xiv
xii-xiii, 3-5. See also Opera Singers Stuber, Ruth, 261
Slatkin, Leonard, 349, 351, 351 n, 358 Suffrage movement, 278
Slaughter, Susan, 358 Suite for Wind Quintet (Crawford-
Slonimsky, Nicolas, 303 Seeger), 308
Smith, Alice-Mary, 214, 215 Sully, Thomas, 76
Smith, Fanny Morris, 188, 190-91 Sundstrom, Ebba, 248-49
Smith, James R., 136 Swynnerton, Annie Louisa, 292
Smith, Julia, 260, 261 Symphonies: composed by women, 80,
Smyth, Dame Ethel, 156-57, 158, 223; viewed as "masculine" music, 223
159-66, 318-19; as composer, 156, Symphony for Organ and Orchestra
162-65, 206, 225-26; Female Pipings (Copland), 244-45
in Eden, 278-96, 297; Ueder und Symphony News, 328
Balladen, 163n; Der Wald, 225-26 Symphony orchestras, 247-50, 252; all¬
Society of American Women Composers, female, 247-49, 251, 253, 254,
247 256-57, 260-64, 271, 335-42; female
Solie, Ruth, 372 conductors, 253-64; mixed, 247-50,
Sonata form, 364 251, 254, 257, 261, 264, 266, 272;
Sonatas (La Guerre), 64 obstacles for women instrumentalists,
Song, The (Bartolozzi), 75 251-52, 261, 263, 267, 270, 358;
Songs, composed by women, 21-22, 54, Residencies, 349-51
85, 87; Hensel, 143, 143n, 148, 151;
Hildegardvon Bingen, 14, 16-17; Taffanel, Paul, 204
Lang, 165, 165n; Schumann (Clara), Tailleferre, Germaine, 339, 340
153, 165; Smyth, 163, 163n, 165 Tartini, Giuseppi, 199
Southeastern Composers' League, Tausig, Carl, 109, 111, 112, 114, 120,
327-28 121
Sowerby, Leo, 235 Teachers, women as, xv, 85, 167,
Spencer, Penelope, 316 184-87, 261; Boulanger, 239-46;
Spiering, Theodore, 267, 267n census statistics, 184; college level,
Standpoint theory, 363 325-26; Citron, 360, 369, 370;
Starer, Robert, 352 Crawford-Seeger, 304, 308; Etude
Stavenhagen, Bernhard, 220-22 article, 184, 184n, 185-87; Fay, 110,
INDEX 399

184-87; job discrimination; 186, 221, Van de Vate, Nancy, 323-32, 343
325-26; Martinez, 80; Paradis, 85; pay Varese, Edgard, 308, 331
discrimination, 184, 186; Schumann, Vaudeville, 135, 141-42, 194
107; Tower, 357; Van de Vate, 323 Vaughan Williams, Ralph, 261
Te Deum (La Guerre), 64 Vehanen, Kosti, 276, 276n
Tennessee Concert Company, 136 Venetian conservatories, xiii, 65-69, 192,
Terry, Ellen, 286, 286n 199n
Tertis, Lionel, 235 Verdi, Giuseppe, 370-71
Thalberg, Sigismond, 91, 182 Vermeer, Johannes, 59
Therapeutae, 3-4 Vienna, 80, 85, 91, 104, 305
Thomas, Dylan, 319, 320 Vienna Damen Orchester, 192-93
Thomas, Emma A., 184 Vierling, Georg, 170
Thomas, Gary, 365 Viol, xiii, 42, 43, 199
Thomas, John Charles, 256 Viola, 263; da gamba, 58
Thomas, Theodore, 232 Viole bastarde, 43
Thompson, Randall, 235 Violin, 43, 192; women excluded from,
Thomson, Virgil, 246 xiii, 192, 198-200, 204
Thorne, Francis, 348 Violinists, xiii, xiv, xv, 65, 68, 192, 198,
Three Songs for Contralto and Orchestra 257, 259, 262, 272, 281;
(Crawford-Seeger), 309 concertmistresses, 263, 266, 272;
Thuile, Ludwig, 219 Urso, 198; Urso quoted on, 198-201
Thygeson, Charlotte, 151 Virginal, 57, 199n
Tick, Judith, 360, 366, 372 Vivaldi, Antonio, 65
Tillard, Francois, 362 Vocal music: earliest Christianity, 3-5,
Tillet, Titon du, 63 9-10; medieval convent, 11, 14, 17;
Timpani, 250, 257, 261, 272 Renaissance convent, 43; rise of
Torn), Francesca, 68 professional singers, 50-52. See also
Toscanini, Arturo, 261, 276 Singers
Tovey, Donald, 296 Vogler, Abbe, 85
Tower, Joan, 343-58; approaching a new Voice teachers, women as, 80, 131, 184
piece, 354-55; on composing, 345;
Grawemeyer Award, 343, 351-52 Wagner, Cosima, 124, 175-178
Toye, Wendy, 318 Wagner, Richard, 101, 10In, 123,
Trobaritz vs. trobador, 21, 28 175-76, 177n, 178, 208, 218, 219
Trombone, 43, 48, 203, 257 Wald, Der (Smyth), 225-26
Troubadours, women as, 21-27 Walter-Chionanus, Iduna, 173
Tuba, 250 Walton, Blanche, 305
Twelve-tone system (dodecaphony), 246, Wann, Lois, 257, 263
312, 331 Washington, D.C., 237; Anderson
Twentieth Century Composers (Ewen),
concert, 273-74, 275-76; Grand Opera
297
House, 142
Washington Post, 138
Upton, George, 206-10
Watson, Muriel, 257
Urbani, Orazio, 51
Urso, Camilla, 198 Webern, Anton, 246, 312
Urspruch, Anton, 116-17 Weidig, Adolf, 304
U.S. Library of Congress, 236-37, 311 Weingartner, Felix, 259
Wellesz, Egon, 305
Valediction, op. 28 (Lutyens), 320 Weston, Horace, 136
Valuation, 368-69 West Side Orchestral Concerts, 264
400 INDEX

Wheen, Natalie, 353 Woman with the Unicorn, The

Whistler, Rex, 317, 318 (tapestries), 32
White, Walter, 277 Women in Music (newsletter), 247, 247n,
"Why No Great Women Composers?" 248-50, 264
(Seashore), 297-302 Women's movement, 278, 325, 327, 343
Wieck, Friedrich, 91, 97 Women's Philharmonic, 335-42; players
Wielich, Ludwig, 255 in, 337
Wilson, Billy, 136 Women's Symphony Orchestra of
Wilson, Ruth, 252 Chicago, 249
Wincenc, Carol, 358 Women's Symphony Orchestra of New
Wind instruments, 43, 47-48, 192, 282; York, 252, 253, 254, 256-57, 271
women excluded from, xiii, 192, 203, Wood, Elizabeth, 365, 372
204 Wood, Henry, 283, 283n, 315n
Wind Quintet, op. 45 (Lutyens), 320-21 Woolf, Virginia, 278, 284n
Wings (Tower), 352 World War II, 251, 252, 254, 263
"Woman composer question," xv, 206, WPA (Works Progress Administration),
214, 223, 278, 297; defense of women, 256, 270-71
211-22; literary career analogy Wuorinen, Charles, 347, 357
discounted, 287-89; Seashore on,
297-302; Smyth on, 279-96; Upton Ysaye, Eugene, 259
on, 206-10
Woman in Music (Upton), 206-10 Zeffirelli, Franco, 370-71
Woman Playing a Viol (Stimmer), 42 Zelter, Carl Friedrich, 151
Woman's Musical Congress (Chicago, Zerr, Ferdinand, 173
1893), 198 Zimbalist, Efrem, 235
"Woman Teacher in a Large City" (Fay, in Zukerman, Eugenia, 341-42
Etude), 185-87 Zwilich, Ellen Taaffe, 341, 342, 357,
Woman with a Lute (Vermeer), 59 357n
Music/Women’s Studies

jit
“Women in Music has been a core resource for scholarship and
teaching since it first appeared in 1982. Out of print for too
long, Women in Music can now take its rightful place again in
Ml
the center of a growing held of gender and music research,
allowing women to speak for themselves.”
Susan C. Cook, University of Wisconsin School of Music
v.^ i CzAd* s%- 7't.

“Women have been active as composers, singers, and instru¬

mentalists from the early Middle Ages to the present day.
Neuls-Bates’s anthology ... sheds welcome light on certain
important figures and aspects of women’s musical history”
-Mg iSnS&'i '? . .
Pamela Bristah,. Votes (Music
V
Library
, f
Association)>

tL 1 his pioneering collection allows us to hear women’s voices

across the centuries. Women in Music is an invaluable tool fo
teaching courses in western music history and not just
women’s studies.”
Judith kick, Northeastern University School of Music

Carol Neuls-Batcs is a musicologist who has done extensive

work in women’s studies. She lives in New York City

ISBN 1 55553 240-3

- -

90000>

i/000 20
NEW BOOK -- ksS:-,

9 781555 532406 or
a dJ

Cover design by Peter M. Blaiwas

Northeastern University Press ■ i/V.i

Boston, Massachusetts 02115