Composer Bio

Marianna von Martines

Although the spelling of her name is debated – Marianna/Mariana/Marie Anne, Martines/Martinez – its clear that she was a talented and driven composer. Born in Vienna in 1744 to a wealthy Austrian mother and a Neapolitan father, she grew up with her five surviving siblings in the Michaelerhaus, which sat in the heart of Vienna next to the Michaelerkirche (St. Michael’s Church). Her compositions and her singing quickly became well-known throughout the city; in 1761 one of her masses was performed at the court church of Empress Maria Theresa. Unlike her male contemporaries, Martines was not eligible for any paid musical positions. However, this actually worked in her favor. By her mid-forties, her brother (and by extension the whole family) was raised to nobility status by the Empress for his work as a tutor to the royal children. The now van Martines was not only able to, but expected to, turn her focus towards the arts or entertaining. Of course, Marianna took this to an extreme and worked diligently every day on her compositions and practice. In addition, because the Empress had closed theaters and concert halls, private concerts became popular. Although her music would likely not have been performed publicly, she became a popular composer for these private concerts, even hosting her own concert series which was frequented was the Mozarts.

She quickly gained an international reputation, in part due to an older librettist who also lived in the Michaelerhaus – Metastasio. He had acquired great fame as a librettist and playwright, with composers including Hasse, Pergolesi and Scarlatti setting his words to music. He recognized early on that Marianna had a musical gift and he, along with a teenage Hadyn (who lived in the attic room of the house) and Nicolò Porpora, taught Marianna composition and singing.

Although she received accolades and awards for her compositions (including a mention by the Queen of Naples, and an invitation to the Accademia filarmonica in Bologna, the first woman invited since its founding in 1665), she always erred on the side of caution and conservatism. As an upper-class woman, she thought it would appear improper to travel to Naples or to Bologna, and chose to remain in Vienna, in her world of private concerts. Because of this “propriety”, her invitation was rescinded as the Accademia required the composer to be present for the performance of their work. This conservatism also appears in her works; while they are beautiful and incredibly virtuosic, they rely on older styles and use older instruments (like the harpsichord rather than exploring innovations in piano technology).

During Martines’ lifetime, ideas about women and music were gradually changing – for the worse. By remaining so conservative, she was able to continue to have her music performed, and was respected in the Viennese musical community. Some of her male counterparts like Mozart and Haydn (and later Beethoven) were able to more freely innovate and push musical boundaries. If she had tried to do the same, it is likely that she would have been dismissed and ridiculed. Although she never wrote a symphony or an opera, she still succeeded in her own way by being a brilliant and talented composer, whose works were performed all over Vienna in her lifetime.

Unfortunately, by the 1800s, the musical world was really starting to close its doors to women, as new 19th century stereotypes about gender and music came into play. (See my post on Clara Schumann for more information). Perhaps this is why her music has been slowly forgotten. She died in 1812, only two days after her last sister passed away, with no memorial.

Our livestream featured two works by Marianna – La Tempesta, a cantata set to a Metastasio libretto, and her Sonata in E Major. In La Tempesta, a shepherd boy is desperately in love with Nice, a beautiful shepherdess. He offers to help her protect her sheep from a looming storm, and by the end of the cantata realizes she loves him.

See below for the video of our livestream concert. Enjoy!

The information in this blog comes from Anna Beer’s absolutely wonderful book “Sounds and Sweet Airs”, and the Grove Music Online article about Martines. If you want to perform La Tempesta or the Sonata, Dave has made a lovely edition from the original scores. Just shoot me a message for it!

Composer Bio

Josina van Boetzelaer

Josina Anna Petronella was born in the Hague in 1733 to the van Aerssens, an old aristocratic family originally from Belgium. She soon became a lady-in-waiting to Princess Anna, and eventually to Princess Anna’s daughter, Princess Caroline. Princess Anna, who came from England, was well-educated in music, having studied with Handel before she arrived in the Netherlands. In court, Josina was surrounded by music, and many famous musicians of the day visited, including a young Mozart and later Beethoven. In addition, the Princess and her daughter hosted private chamber performances where its likely Josina participated as a singer (which is probably why her works for soprano are so fiendishly difficult!).

Interestingly, Josina did not marry until she was thirty-five. When she married Carl van Boetzelaer in 1768, a military man from another old aristocratic family, she was able to remain financially independent due to new inheritance laws. The couple had three children together, although only two survived into adulthood. It wasn’t until after she got married that Josina began to study composing. The records aren’t super clear, but it is likely that she started learning with Francesco Pasquale Ricci after the birth of her youngest daughter in 1775. Through him, she was exposed to the music of Maria Teresa Agnesi and Marianna Martines, contemporaries of hers from Milan and Vienna, respectively. Ricci left the Netherlands in 1780, after dedicating a set of six ariettas to Josina. After his departure, Josina began to publish her works. In 1795, there was political upheaval in the Netherlands, and the family fled to IJsselstein. Josina died there at the age of 64 in 1797.

Unlike other Dutch women composers, Josina published her works, which preserved them. She published four opuses, several of which are for orchestra and voice. Unfortunately Op. 3 has been lost, but 1, 2 and 4 can be found in libraries in Bologna, Zurich and Slovenia. She was also one of the few native Dutch composers of her time – in the eighteenth-century, many famous composers were foreigners who came to the court. In addition, many of her arias are set to Metastasio libretti, which sets them apart as opera seria was not widely written in the Netherlands. She composed for relatively large-scale orchestras (for the time, at least), so it seems she was not restricted by later ideals of “women’s’ music” which shackled Clara Schumann and Fanny Mendelssohn to writing smaller scale works. Although it seems that she did not organize performances of her pieces (unlike other aristocratic composers of the time – including Anna Amalia of Prussia), she was acknowledged even by critics of her own time.

The aria that I’ve chosen is called Che non mi disse un di and is from her Op. 4. The libretto is from Metastasio’s L’Olimpiade, and the entire opus is in fact dedicated to him. The aria is not only incredibly beautiful, but extremely virtuosic. The anger with which the singer describes her lover’s betrayal is contrasted with her sadness at losing him again. It was part of the livestream mini-concert on June 20, and you can watch it below. I hope you enjoy the performance, and if you’re interested in learning the piece you can find music at Hildegard Publishing.

It was difficult to find much information about Josina – this article owes a lot of thanks to “Women Composers: Music through the Ages”, and to the Oxford Music Online. Helen Metzlaar has also written a biography about the composer, “An Unknown 18th-Century Dutch Woman Composer: Josina Boetzelaer (1733-1797)”.

Composer Bio

Amy Beach

This week’s composer is Amy Beach, née Cheney. She was a leading American composer in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s and wrote some incredible music.

Amy Cheney was born in New Hampshire in 1867 to an upper-class New England family. From an early age it was clear she was a musical prodigy – she could supposedly sing 40 songs by the age of 1 and was composing her own piano pieces by the age of four. Her mother, an amateur singer, encouraged her in her musical education. When she was 7 years old, she gave her first piano concerts, including her own works. After the family moved to Boston when she was 8, her parents were told she was good enough to study at a European conservatory. Perhaps if she had been born a man, she would have been sent to Europe, as many other American composers of the time were. However, she was a young woman and it was deemed inappropriate for her to travel. Her education was continued, but with private teachers. She continued to excel as a pianist, having her concert hall debut in Boston when she was only 16, and debuting with the Boston Symphony Orchestra two years later. Her career appeared to have taken off, as she had received many positive reviews from many of her performances.

Unfortunately, Amy wasn’t allowed to continue her career as a performer. As a young woman of the upper class, she was expected to marry early, and well. As such, she was married to Henry Harris Aubrey Beach, a doctor 24 years her senior, and well known in the Boston upper class circles. He declared that no wife of his would *gasp* work for money, and so she was limited to performing for charity only once or twice per year. Although she had always considered herself a pianist first and foremost, she changed her focus towards composition. She wasn’t able to study at a traditional conservatory, only having had one year of study with a teacher. After that, as her husband wasn’t comfortable with her studying with a man, she taught herself composition by reading books and studying the works of other composers.

Despite all of the obstacles in her path, Amy went on to become a leading composer of her day – and a prolific one. In 1896, she became the first American woman to have a symphony published (the ‘Gaelic’ Symphony). It received wide-spread praise after its premiere by the Boston Symphony Orchestra.

In 1910, Amy’s husband, and then her mother, died. She decided to finally travel to Europe, where she spent the next years performing her works. She performed in Italy and Germany, where she also attended several performances of her symphony. European critics were impressed with her music, calling her a “leading American composer”. She had to return the United States in 1914 with the outbreak of WWI but was able to continue her performance tour all over the country. She eventually settled at the MacDowell Colony in New Hampshire, a haven for composers and artists. She continued composing, eventually writing nearly 300 works, half of which were art songs.

Why am I talking about Amy Beach so early in my blog? There are many other fantastic women composers to choose from who unlike Beach received little to no recognition in their lifetime. I think she is important because not only did she continue to pursue music in spite of the roadblocks in her path (her lack of musical education and her husband’s restrictions of her musical activities) she eventually became a strong and vocal proponent of women learning composition. Although her husband stopped her from teaching piano, she wrote many articles, including “To the girl who wants to compose”. In addition, she was president and co-founder (along with Ruth Crawford Seeger, and 17 others) of the Society of American Women Composers, as well as president of several other national music education organizations. In addition, she actively worked to have her music performed, sending off new pieces to performers as soon as they were completed.

Aside from the fact that I absolutely love her music (especially her songs – they are not only great to listen to but so much fun to sing!), I believe that her support of other young women composers is incredibly important. Even though she was quite popular in her own time, her popularity diminished as soon as she was no longer promoting herself. I had not heard of her until I started my journey into learning more about women composers. It’s estimated that about 1/3 of her works have not yet been recorded, although recently there have been several groups promoting her music. There are no recent or widely available commercial recording of her featured song today, “Ye banks and braes”.

Beach was very interested in folk music, and many of her songs and larger works are based around that theme. One of my absolute favorites is her reworking of the Scottish folk song “Ye Banks and Braes o’ bonnie doon”, by Robert Burns. Unlike many who set folk tunes (like Britten, etc.), she didn’t just write a new accompaniment to the traditional tune – she wrote an entirely new piece. I hope you all enjoy this recording of it, made live by myself and David Wishart during our first ever Livestream Mini-Concert. (Yes, we’re going a little stir-crazy in Quarantine – who isn’t?).

From the livestreamed Mini-Concert on 14 April 2020

Looking for more information about Amy Beach? Check out the Amy Beach Foundation ( I also found information from the Oxford Music Online, as well as an article from ClassicFM and Wikipedia. Emma Kirby also recorded many of her songs, which are available on Spotify.

Looking to perform some of her music? Many of her works are available on IMSLP. Furore Verlag and Hildegard Publishing also have selected works available for purchase.

Composer Bio

Clara Schumann

Composer, Performer, Mother and Wife

Clara Schumann née Wieck was a complicated woman. She was a composer, a world renowned concert pianist, a mother of 8, and a wife to the troubled composer Robert Schumann. She was born in Leipzig in 1819 to an especially musical family, and was trained in music, languages, composing, and piano from a very early age by her father. Perhaps because of her father’s incredibly strict and even cruel ways, she debuted at the Leipzig Gewandhaus when she was just 11 years old. She continued to practice and perform throughout Germany and abroad (she performed in Paris at the ripe age of 12) under the stern eye of her father. Her father even wrote many of her diary entries! When her younger half-brother died before a performance, her father forced her to travel to Dresden the next day to perform. She became an expert at performing through illness, violence, pain, and despair. There is no question that her father’s intense and authoritarian teaching style paved the way for her to balance motherhood, performing, and taking care of Robert.

In 1828, was she was merely 8 years old, Robert Schumann entered her life as a live-in student of her father’s. By the time she was 13, she was in love with him, and he with her. He simultaneously was a proponent of her composing, and her harshest critic. He never truly believed that she was a “full artistic genius”, but he nonetheless needed her as a musical support. He never believed that she could succeed as an composer on her own, and that she must dedicate herself, both emotionally and musically to him. She followed this idea completely – even going so far as to legally challenge her father for the right to marry Robert in 1840.

After her marriage, it became difficult for her to find the time to compose – even to practice! Robert’s composition was the most important thing to him; Clara was of course responsible for raising their eight children, keeping house and cooking. He was not happy when she went on extended tours to keep the family in the black, but it was unavoidable. He believed that “the creative artist had higher status than the performer” (Sounds and Sweet airs, p 225). Even despite this, she continued to compose, and to perform. She was always a supporter of Robert and his music, even to the detriment of her own piano playing and composing. After his death, she dedicated herself to the interpretation of others’ music and to preserving his legacy, only composing one piece herself.

Clara found it difficult even at the best of times to compose, so perhaps it is no surprise that she did not publish much music. However, as she grew older and the societal view of women’s role in music in Germany became more close-minded, she too came to believe that women should not create music, writing that “a woman must not wish to compose – there never was one able to do it”. In my opinion, this belief that became pervasive in the 19th century was an incredibly destructive one; we have lost so much music because it was never allowed to become an idea, let alone be published. We should celebrate what little music exists today from these women – and I believe Clara Schumann’s music is worth celebrating. I hope you do too! Some of my favorite music of hers is from her 6 Lieder, Op. 13 – here is my recording of Liebeszauber (Love’s Magic), excerpted from our first livestream mini-concert. You can find the whole concert over in the Livestream section of the blog.


Op. 13, Clara Schumann

Lisa Newill-Smith, soprano

David Wishart, pianist

Sources I used for this blog post include Anna Beer’s Sounds and Sweet Airs, and the article on Clara Schumann in Oxford Music Online. Much of her sheet music is available on IMSLP – please go and sing and play as much of it as you can!