As I write this, hundreds of thousands of people are filling the streets of major US cities for the Women’s March on Washington, to protest the Great Farce which began yesterday. It was only a century ago that women in the US were fighting for the right to vote; just like today, protest songs were written and sung.

Ethel Smyth was a Nasty Woman. She was a lesbian who not only wanted to be a composer, but also to vote. Born in England in 1858, her envisioned life was not one to be easily won. She had to keep her homosexuality hidden, and her career in music was suppressed by sexism; her father strongly discouraged her from pursuing music, and Smyth had to forge her own way. She became very involved in the Women’s Suffrage movement, and ultimately did see English women win the right to vote when she turned 70.

Progress is slow, but it can happen, thanks to Nasty Women like Smyth. Here is her “March of the Women“, written in 1910.

While this piece is fitting for this post, I’d recommend digging a little deeper and listening to some of Smyth’s other compositions, which better show her compositional personality. You can start here.

March 8 is International Women’s Day, a day to celebrate the achievements of women throughout history.

Gender inequality certainly exists in music. And while the field of performance (solo and ensemble performers) has become considerably more gender balanced than it was in the past, composition still remains a male-dominated career.

Today I want to celebrate Amy Beach, who was the first American woman to have a successful career as a concert pianist and composer of Art Music.

Despite being a female composer at a time when composers simply weren’t supposed to be female, Beach was revered as a member of the Second New England School – the elite, first group of highly educated American composers. Their music is fabulous, but they get overshadowed by their European contemporaries, and nowadays, their music is considered to be not truly “American”. (whatever!)

Anyway, Beach is one seriously strong person. After she married in 1885, her husband asked (ie, demanded) that she limit her concert performances, an donate all her earnings to charity. Nevertheless, she persisted. Her 1896 “Gaelic Symphony” was a monumental success. Critics tried to find weaknesses in the composition and attach them to her sex, but to no avail. Audiences and her colleagues lifted her up as one of America’s finest.

The whole symphony is fabulous. If you have the time, I’d highly recommend listening to the rest of it – check the sidebar on Youtube, and follow the roman numerals. And if you don’t have the time … come back when you do 🙂