On Rhetoric and Misogynistic Musicology

The Canon of Classical Music 

In the “recognized canon” of (Western) “Classical Music,” there seems to be a stunning absence of women. Although scholarship regarding gender-marginalized composers throughout history has increased in the last handful of years, resources are still sparse and at times inaccessible — and many music history curricula have not yet gotten the memo.

“It never even occurred to some of us [students] to wonder why there were no women in the histories of music we studied; if we asked, we were told that there had not been any - at least none worth remembering… for the addition of women (or any other formerly marginalized group) to a canon immediately calls attention to the fact of the canon’s constructedness, its dependence on changing social values” (McClary 1994, 365-6).

With the increase in demand for knowledge, scholarship, and general presence of women’s musical voices comes the increase in blatant and downright appalling misogyny. Of course, these voices are not new, but simply less subtle than the generations-worth of oppressive rhetoric that have directly harmed women’s chances of being heard.

Past & Present 

One example of a modern tyrant simply echoing the harm that prevailed before him is Damian Thompson, seemingly proud author of 2015 article “There’s a Good Reason Why There Are No Great Female Composers.” The article was supposedly inspired by his indignation towards a young student advocating for the inclusion of more gender-marginalized composers within her own music curriculum. Instead of providing any productive information about the barriers and obstacles women have faced for many generations, he simply presents an obtusely elongated opinion piece on why no female composer will ever achieve the greatness of their male counterparts.

This rhetoric is evocative of past discussions and dismissals of works by gender-marginalized  composers, and its relevance and repetition is highly concerning in the overall effort towards more knowledge and accessibility of these composers of their works. By understanding and dismantling this harmful rhetoric, we, as a society, can become more open-minded and understanding towards the barriers women musicians have faced for centuries. 

Where are the Women? 

One of the most common misconceptions regarding the general absence of works by women  composers was simply that there just weren’t as many women writing music, so naturally they will be underrepresented by comparison. Thompson even mentions this towards the end of his article, noting that “if there are no great female composers, that’s because creative geniuses are rare, and in the past, so few women wrote music” (Thompson 2015). 

The collection of over 1,600 gender-marginalized composers in the Boulanger Initiative Database would like to disagree. 

Of the plethora of composers available, Thompson only chooses to mention seven women throughout the entire article: Clara Schumann, Fanny Mendelssohn, Amy Beach, Ethel Smyth, Elizabeth Maconchy, Thea Musgrave, and Judith Weir. The latter three get a sentence-long verdict, Beach and Smyth at least get a small paragraph, and only Clara Schumann and Fanny Mendelssohn, arguably two of the most recognized women composers, with thanks to their proximity to men, have more specific and developed features. It is not lost on me that more men are named throughout the article than women, at ten. 

Clara and her Husband 

Clara Weick (Schumann), 1838, by Cäcilie Brandt

Clara Weick (Schumann), 1838, by Cäcilie Brandt

Let’s dissect how he highlights (or, rather, deconstructs) the works of Clara Schumann in comparison to works by her husband, Robert. Thompson notes that he was listening to Robert’s piano concerto while writing, and he “marvels yet again at Robert’s genius. The leaping melody of the finale turns into a fugue and then a waltz, enticed by the piano into modulations that never lose their power to surprise and delight” (Thompson 2015). This commentary essentially allows the construction of the concerto to speak for itself. With dazzling and enticing language, it sparkles and leaves an excited anticipation for the readers to want to experience the work for themselves.

Conversely, he does the exact opposite for Clara’s concerto, immediately inserting a harsh label before we, as readers, know anything else. By immediately inserting such a definitive judgment, noting that “within ten seconds (we) know it’s a dud” (Thompson 2015), we now carry an unpleasant connotation with the work, regardless of our familiarity with it.

Stolen Success? 

Thompson goes on to flatly and objectively say that nothing Clara Schumann produced  was particularly good and, even worse, errs on the side of boring. He concedes regarding some of her more “mature” writing, but compares it so closely to Robert’s that he almost accuses her of plagiarizing. This echoes a popular rhetoric and misconception regarding women’s ability to create music. Many critics would try to argue that women lack the ability to imagine or create, and must instead resort to imitating the greats in an attempt to compose (Fleck 1911, 212). The ironic layer, of course, is that now women face rhetoric that often labels them as “too emotional,” whereas men are expected to not express their emotions (Citron, 53).  

Amy Beach by Chelsey Hill

Amy Beach by Chelsey Hill

This creates a sort of paradox: women who had access to music education, especially in composition, very likely studied with men throughout their careers (due to the lack of women permitted to hold roles in music academia). Regardless of teachers and places of study, many composers were hugely influenced by other composers (regardless of gender) throughout their careers. Therefore, when women were particularly successful, they were accused of at best, imitating men, and, at worst, literally stealing the work from them. 

One such example of many is the reception of the works of Amy Beach (1867-1944), an American symphonist and large presence in composer forums and concert halls. While she was presented with numerous opportunities to have her works performed, including at the concert of the dedication of the Women’s Building at the Chicago World Fair in 1892 (McKinney 2025, 60), she still faced misogynistic rhetoric as a response. Some argued that her work was simply “too masculine”, but “detractors called her work derivative, being poorer imitations of Brahms, Wagner, and other Romantic composers…” (McKinney 2025, 62). Beach, of course, was simply writing in the popular symphonic style of the time. Some took great offense in her musical language and style, and could not simply wrap their head around her talent and ability without justifying it as a rip-off of their “greats.” 

Fact vs. Opinion

Portrait of Fanny Hensel, 1842, by Moritz Daniel Oppenheim

Portrait of Fanny Hensel, 1842, by Moritz Daniel Oppenheim

Thompson gives Fanny Mendelssohn-Hensel, Felix’s sister, even less consideration or respect, simply regarding that her piano sonata is “bloody awful” and likely “would not have been recorded if it had been written by a man” (Thompson 2015), as if the standards are higher for men than they are women. 

This line comes immediately after he expresses his frustration towards Clara and her own opinions towards some canonical “masterworks.” 

“[Clara’s] G minor Piano Sonata, on the other hand, isn’t a success. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it ‘repugnant’ (Clara’s verdict on Tristan) or ‘horrible’ (her description of Bruckner’s Seventh), but it’s embarrassingly banal” (Thompson 2015). 

There is an incredibly fine line between these situations, and I want to point out that, in this scenario, Thompson is no better than Clara. Of course, we, as musicians, music lovers, and/or humans in general, are allowed to have opinions on art: that’s kind of the whole point. That being said, the way we talk about those opinions and different artworks matter. The rhetoric is powerful, and, in this case, unbalanced. 

Not only is the rhetoric concerning, but the quality of Thompson’s writing continues to decrease throughout the article, considering that he does not provide any sources or context for the words of hers that he is quoting. Secondly, this presents a false equivalency; Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde and Bruckner’s Seventh both sit comfortably within the classical music canon. There is nothing that Clara could say that could change that. However, there were many barriers that were unique for all marginalized composers. For these composers, access to education, financial support, performance opportunities, and programming considerations were simply much more difficult to come by. For a piece written by someone who was not a man, and was not granted immediate access and support, an unsupported snap-judgement such as “[a] dud” or “bloody awful” (Thompson’s words) can be incredibly harmful and uninspiring. This kind of rhetoric is why so many legacies have been lost; they were thrown out before they even had a chance. 

Marianna Martines by Chelsey Hill

Marianna Martines by Chelsey Hill

Consider, too, that posthumous reception is especially fragile, as the composers are not around to defend their works or legacies. Living women composers are currently being programmed at much higher rates than those of the past, because they are able to advocate and advertise their works; women composers of the past do not have that luxury. Marianna Martines (1744-1812), for example, was an amateur composer of great success during her time, having studied with Haydn and likely inspiring Mozart’s Requiem. Her output was extensive, and her compositions exhibit her comfortability with the classical musical style, as she wrote in almost every genre, not the short and “easy” compositions to which women were typically expected to limit themselves. Her works saw performances in massive venues on programs alongside both Haydn and Mozart, and were received with high-praise.

After her death in 1812, Martines’s music was quickly forgotten and diminished. It was easy for critics to claim that women “hadn’t contributed to music in any meaningful way” (McKinney 2025, 16) when her works were not known or respected. As her legacy was lost, so was much of the possible scholarship surrounding her life. While there has been a resurgence in interest in her life and works, only 70 of her manuscripts still exist (McKinney 2025, 16). 



Disguising Oppression

Historically, however, the rhetoric was a bit more discreet. Of the documented evidence, many critiques and reviews seem slightly less direct and target, and more patronizing and condescending. There are plenty of examples from composers’ forums in the mid-twentieth century, where works by men would be discussed with integrity, but women would have to endure comments on their appearances and/or personalities, and were not always guaranteed any serious considerations of their works. 

These composers’ forums were instrumental for composers to make connections and have their works heard. Although many women were present at these meetings, participating on both sides (as contributors and as listeners), their works were less than encouraged. 

“Men’s works were often taken more seriously, and had focused discussion. Male composers may have also received comments on appearances or charm, but those were truly complimentary. For women, those comments took the forefront, were off-topic, and insulting to the work itself. When the works themselves were discussed, they were often considered ‘charming’” (De Graaf 2008, 285-6).

Oppressive voices had practice in subtly repressing composers’ potential by sneakily discouraging them from advancement. Women and their works were off-handedly called “charming,” despite the fact that the same word applied to a man and his work would have been offensive, as it would have compared him and his work to that of a woman. 

Thompson himself admits that ‘well-crafted’, in the context of a work written by a woman, is code for ‘boring,’ further perpetuating the way rhetoric has been used to overtly silence and dismiss gender-marginalized composers and their compositional efforts. 

In fact, the rhetoric is so normalized that Thompson breaks out of the pleasantries and directly attacks Ethel Smyth’s opera The Wreckers, noting that it is “very badly crafted music” (Thompson 2015).  The story of Ethel Smyth’s career, specifically around the composition and reception of this opera, is very long, complex, and thrilling. The first performance of The Wreckers was not received well; audiences were generally unimpressed. However, Smyth was able to convince a young up-and-coming conductor, Thomas Beechman, to produce and conduct the opera in England. The substantially higher quality of this opera was received with high praise. Beecham himself noted The Wreckers as  “one of the three or four English operas of real musical merit and vitality” (Broad 2023, 129).

Because of Beecham, his open mind, and his willingness to further promote the work, “the press recognized the Wreckers premiere as ‘one of the most important musical events of the year … and [Smyth] was given an entry in the latest edition of Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians” (Broad 2023, 131).

Why This Matters 

Until recently, many resources regarding women in music (including, but not limited to: recordings, scores, letters, writings, etc.) were widely unavailable, almost seemingly nonexistent. Now that researchers and musicians are more interested in this knowledge and these resources, the supply is continuing to increase. This rise justifies this work. 

“The goal of feminist musicology is ‘not to instill guilt, but rather to make this extraordinary music available” (McClary 1994, 366).

Rhetoric similar to that of Thompson’s actively works against this goal. By attempting to continuously discredit unknown works, they are prevented from being heard and known. Their inclusion does not involve the removal of the “greats” from the canon, but simply widening our worldview, knowledge, and understanding as a whole. 


Works Cited 

Broad, Leah. 2023. Quartet: How Four Women Challenged the Musical World. First, Faber.

Citron, Marcia J. Gender and the Musical Canon. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993. 

De Graaf, Melissa J. “‘Never Call Us Lady Composers’: Gendered Receptions in the New York Composers’ Forum, 1935-1940.” American Music 26, no. 3 (2008): 277–308. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40071709

Fleck, Henry T. “Music Lovers’ Supplement: WOMAN AS A COMPOSER.” Arts & Decoration (1910-1918) 1, no. 5 (1911): 212–212. http://www.jstor.org/stable/43805739

McClary, Susan. “Of Patriarchs... and Matriarchs, Too. Susan McClary Assesses the Challenges and Contributions of Feminist Musicology.” The Musical Times 135, no. 1816 (1994): 364–69. https://doi.org/10.2307/1003224

McKinney, Caiti Beth. 2025. “Women Composers Throughout History: Orchestra Edition.” First, Boulanger Initiative. 

Thompson, Damian. “There’s a Good Reason Why There Are No Great Female Composers,” The Spectator, September 16, 2015. https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/there-s-a-good-reason-why-there-are-no-great-female-composers/#comments-container

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“By a Linden Tree”: Discovering the Lieder of Composer Ethel Smyth (Part 2)