Ravinia 2022, Issue 3

Lawn Clippings By John Schauer Phil Spitalny (standing), Evelyn Kaye (seated front row center), and The Hour of Charm Orchestra in 1938 Where X≠Y FOR CENTURIES, the English language had specific feminine forms of words denoting professions: actor/actress, comedian/comedienne, aviator/aviatrix, even Smurf/Smurfette. But no one ever bothered to devise a feminine form of “conductor,” which tells you something about the obstacles any aspiring woman conductor had to overcome. The mass of bias women had to confront remained off my personal radar for many years, and not only because I’m a male. I began piano lessons with a neighbor when I was 8, and later enrolled in the piano preparatory department of a local college, where I first studied with a graduate student, then with two of the faculty members. At Northwestern I studied with the head of the piano profi- ciency department before switching instruments and studying harpsichord with the university’s harpsichord professor. And all of them were women. So for me, it always felt natural to look to a woman for musical guidance. Apparently it was different for orchestral musicians, who expected to see a man on the podium. But if women faced an uphill battle to lead a symphony orchestra, it’s surpris- ing how long they had to battle simply to join one. For example, it wasn’t until 1997, 155 years after its founding, that the Vienna Philharmonic allowed a woman to join their musical boys’ club, and even then it was a harpist. For Pete’s sake, even Ricky Riccardo’s all-male band on the 1950s sitcom I Love Lucy had a female harpist. Not exactly groundbreaking. To its credit, the CSO beat Vienna by over a half a century, when Frederick Stock appointed Helen Kotas to the position of principal horn in 1941, making her the first woman to be hired as principal of any section—other than harp—in a major US orchestra. Why the harp is so closely associated with female players defies logic. It is a huge, heavy device, not something a woman could easily slip into her purse. For that matter, the long association of virtually all orchestral instruments with male musicians never made sense, either. For centuries, any female who aspired to being considered a “cultured young lady” was expected to be able to play a keyboard instrument. Even Queen Elizabeth I was an accomplished player on the virginals, no pun intended. Women, of course, achieved stardom as solo performers in opera and ballet, and the lion’s share of publicity has usually been lavished on sopranos and balle- rinas. In fact, especially during the early Romantic period in the first half of the 19th century, the ideal of feminine grace was so appealing that male roles were often sung or danced by women. But the orchestras that accompanied them were still all male. In rare instances where women were allowed to participate in an orchestra, it was usually gender-segregated. The same way that Hollywood long discriminated against Black actors but would occasionally produce a film with an all-Black cast, there was the phenomenon of the “all-girl” orchestra. As far back as the first half of the 18th century, Antonio Vivaldi actually composed many of his instrumental concertos for an all-female orchestra comprising the wards of the Ospedale della Pietá, a home for foundling children. Surprisingly enough, the idea of an “all-girl orchestra” wouldn’t take root in the United States until the years between the World Wars, when Phil Spitalny or- ganized what was cutely named The Hour of Charm Orchestra. Its membership was exclusively female, mostly conservatory-trained, and their concertmistress (they still used feminine noun endings in those days) was Evelyn Kaye, who was billed as “Evelyn and Her Magic Violin.” Even in the realm of pop and rock music, where women were routinely featured as soloists—from big-band vocalists like Peggy Lee, Doris Day, and Ella Fitzgerald to rock icons Grace Slick, Janis Joplin, and Linda Ronstadt—they rarely became one of the boys in the band. It wasn’t until 1969, the year that the fictional Josie and the Pussycats formed an all-female rock band in the pages of Archie comics, that a real-life ensemble called Fanny became the first all-female rock group to release an album on a major record label. And the following year, Hollywood got on board with the abysmal film Beyond the Valley of the Dolls , which depicted the sordid personal lives of an all-woman rock band called The Carrie Nations. I suppose that’s progress. But progress, however slow, has been made. And the next time a woman raises a baton in front of an orchestra, many of the musicians following her downbeat will also have two X chromosomes. John Schauer is a professional writer and amateur keyboardist who is grateful to all the women who taught him how to use his hands. RAVINIA MAGAZINE • JULY 18 – JULY 31, 2022 24