“There is a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women.” Madeleine K. Albright
March is Women’s History Month, and I’ll be blogging about women conductors for a few weeks. But today I’ll begin with a Sarcasm Rant.
Women’s History Month is a month when we in the arts feature women composers on concerts, ballet companies feature women choreographers (a ballet company out there thought male choreographers creating dances honoring women—danced by male dancers—would be an okay observance—NOT!) and women visual artists and women conductors are highlighted. We do this so we are able to not program women composers regularly or have a woman conductor for our ensemble for the other eleven months, right? Because women artists and musicians are still not part of the standard canon and we have to do something to show we know about them, right? It is so great. It is all so wonderful. It is all so very nice, dear, that you nice men have decided to feature women this month. Sarcasm Rant OVER!
Yeah, but watch out! From now on, one month a year to pay some sort of lip service to women and their contributions to the arts (and every field) may not be enough. The younger women coming up will no longer tolerate it and I say brava, my dears!
Things are a bit better than when I was a music student and certainly better than when my late mother was a music student. Mom was a coloratura soprano—easier than being a woman conductor, she told me—but once she had more than one child, it was difficult to be respected, no matter how lovely her voice was. We haven’t made much progress, really, when you realize we STILL do not have the choices our male counterparts have always had.
Did you ever think about what women have to go through to be able create their art? Think about support from family, friends and colleagues of the women who came before us. Or, more likely, who DIDN’T have that support. The hopes of a family of your own dashed because there was NO WAY to be a wife and mother if you composed music and if you did anyway, your music career never took off. You can’t be a serious musician if you are married, you can’t be a serious musician if you have children, and you can’t be serious musician if you have the audacity to attempt to budge into an all-male profession. Think about the numbers of composers and conductors told to do something else because girls don’t compose or conduct and STILL DID IT ANYWAY. Training aside; it’s tough being a woman in classical music.
When I was in school, if there was a rehearsal or performance or something a teacher thought I should attend, I broke my neck to get there. I conducted with a pen or a pencil while commuting back and forth on a CTA bus or an El train so my beat patterns were effortless (I’m sure people thought I was crazy!). I did research about composers I was conducting before my first conducting teacher asked me to. I thrived in Form and Analysis because it made so much sense to know the form of a piece to rehearse it more effectively. If one of the conductors I sang or studied with needed help collating music or setting up chairs or taking attendance or anything menial, I did it so I could understand all aspects of the job. My teachers respected and even considered me a good conductor, but I was still just a girl.
I always feel I have to explain myself, be better than my male counterparts and not just musically. If there is a deadline for something, I am early. I follow through, am prepared and often do much more than expected. I am clear, bordering on neurotic, with instructions so my choirs always understand what is going on with the mechanics of concerts and rehearsal schedules. I think, in some ways, I am afraid if I am not efficient or prepared or on time or don’t follow through, it will be blamed on my gender. I probably overcompensate because of that fear, but it’s gotten me the reputation of being a good music director.
I am told when I am wearing my civilian clothes, I don’t look like a conductor. I look like many middle-aged women and when I have a chance to NOT wear black, I don’t. And even when I am wearing my concert black, some person will tell me I don’t look like a conductor. Lately, I’ve gotten into the habit of asking what a conductor should look like. Most people are taken aback when I say that! And when they don’t have an answer for me, I respond, “I can tell you what a conductor should look like. She looks like me!”
Carolyn Eynon says
For 45 years I have defended my role as a female conductor. Even in 1980 I was the first and only woman at DMA program at Un. of Michigan, where not one teacher was a woman, EXCEPT for fabulous Elizabeth Green, whose book we all should read. I was able to complete all my classes along with 9 men under Gustave Meier, Tom Hilbish, Maynard Klein, Elizabeth Green, but at the conclusion of my class conclusion, my “sponsor” commented PRIVATELY in his office, Why don’t you stay home and start a family ( I was 30!). Today, that would not fly. I have directed adults, children, church, school, and mass choirs, in Michigan and Az and never finished the DMA, but could easily write a thesis on how to survive the non profit performing arts business…. GRIT.