The Hildegards of Los Angeles

Like so many good things in LA, it started with tacos. My friend Kristi and I meet for lunch at Grand Central Market several times a year. Some folks socialize over drinks and canapés. I connect over tacos. We usually meet at The Colburn School and walk down Bunker Hill to eat some of LA’s best. Lunch for under $5 with one of my favorite women in music, in one of LA’s most iconic spots. This is my LA. 

We caught up, as we always do. I listened to her latest adventures teaching music history and giving pre-concert talks for various A-list music venues in the region, and I updated her on my more mundane situation. Jobless but not gig-less. Looking to shift the focus of my marketing and communication skills to the arts. 

“I need to introduce you to The Hildegards,” she said. 

I’m someone who has a foot in two worlds – the business world and the music world. I’m what you call a “Baroque Soprano,” which is a fancy way of saying I sing early music. Hildegard is a hero of mine. I’ve sung her works for decades. So when Kristi said her name in the plural, I lit up and was like, “The what, now?”

Kristi described a group of women leaders in the arts, who formed a collective that brought together women in the world of classical music. Led by Stacey Brightman, who is the VP of LA Opera Connects, The Hildegards launched their first symposium last Sunday, February 9th, in downtown LA at The Colburn School. 

I have been to NAWBO luncheons, and corporate women’s groups over the years. I’ve been to awards shows that singled out women’s accomplishments in business, but I was unprepared for the energy and authenticity that The Hildegards Symposium brought for an affordable $20. Representing musicians, administrators, entrepreneurs and more, their Facebook page says they are “passionate about promoting and supporting women’s talent, stories and careers.” They go on to say that they will host “relaxed events that allow you to connect to others in your field, and help each other inspire and mentor the next generation.” 

The Hildegards were good for their word. For starters, they offered free tickets for LA Opera’s Eurydice the Saturday night before the symposium if you registered by a certain date. A pre-party, if you will. I qualified for two tickets and brought a colleague, Monika, who sings, teaches voice and (in the tradition of Hildegard herself) is a homeopath. We sat in the Orchestra in Row E, five rows away from the stage. Peter Sellars was a few seats down from us in the same row. After the opera, which told the tale of Eurydice - making her, not Orpheus, the main character - The Hildegards hosted a post-concert talk with Danielle de Niese and Raehann Bruce-Davis, who were the lead and supporting sopranos from the evening’s performance, and Beth Morrison, of The Beth Morrison Projects, a producer of new opera who collaborates with LA Opera. Moderated by Kristi Brown-Montesano, the 30-minute discussion was: women in the classical arts. The consensus was: men still dominate the leading creative roles in A-list arts and it’s affecting how art is interpreted. 

Already this was the best $20 I’d spent in years. 

As if that wasn’t enough to chew on for the weekend, the next day I was back downtown, just down the block from the Music Center, at The Colburn School for The Hildegards Symposium. I had no idea what to expect. Frankly, I’m an introvert until I find my footing. I skulked about, eyeing the snacks table. Finally, I forced myself to introduce myself to several women, most of whom were much younger than me. I could count the number of women my age at the event on one hand. There was a slightly larger group of women older than me, but the event consisted mainly of women in their 20s and 30s. I was starting to feel like I came to the wrong event. I remembered The Hildegards’ mission to inspire the next generation, and had a grim moment where I realized I’m no longer considered “the next generation.” However, once I started talking to women, my doubts faded with the fantastic conversations. 

I met composers, drummers, singers, executive directors, entrepreneurs, instrumentalists, conductors, and educators. Everyone was trying to figure out where they fit in the field of classical music, and how to break through to the next level of whatever it was they were doing. These were my people. 

The event kicked off with a panel that included three women in opera: Beth Morrison from the previous night’s panel, librettist Roxie Perkins and composer Carla Lucero. One of the first things they talked about was how they found their voice in a field where the artistic decision making was traditionally done by men. Beth broke it down that if you don’t have role models, you have to give yourself permission to dream, followed by hard work. 

Roxie spoke about being authentic. Meaning, not apologizing for being a woman in a room full of men. She reflected how hard it was to get her work through the door, and that once she was there, the men in the room projected ideas onto her because her presence didn’t fit their model. They couldn’t figure her out.

Carla had several eye-opening stories, including how she produced one of her operas with a completely female team. Female conductor, female set designer, female costume designer, etc. She spoke about how high the degree of communication was among her and her team. “Unbelievable,” she said. “I’ve never had that before. All the artistic decisions were made by women.”  

All three agreed on the importance of giving yourself, and those you collaborate with, the freedom to fail. Failing creates freedom, and freedom is an integral part of being creative and making art. As someone on the panel put it, “giving myself the freedom to make bad art” is what gets them to the good stuff. 

None of this fell on deaf ears. The audience murmured in recognition throughout the panel. 

After the panel, the symposium then led into breakout sessions. You had a choice of four sessions, with the time to do two. I chose the speed mentoring session and the Entrepreneurs session, because I need advice about my job search, and I have a nagging feeling I might be a reluctant entrepreneur. 

The mentor session was designed to work a little like speed dating. You were supposed to have 5 minutes with each mentor. But since only four of us showed up and there were three mentors, we decided to do a roundtable and engage in peer to peer learning. A little like a master class, except you show up with the song you don’t yet know how to perform. 

I clumsily gave my pitch, which is something I don’t get to do very often. I also recorded it, so I could hear how articulate I am when I’m on the spot. (Full disclosure: there is work to be done in that area.) I met four new women, and sat and spoke frankly with the group about our careers for 45 minutes. The mentors (my friend Kristi Brown-Montesano from Colburn, my singing colleague Lauri Goldenhersh from Lauri’s List, and Karen Louis from Neighborhood Music School) reminded me that what I was doing right then and there, was what I need to be doing as often as possible – connecting with other women in the arts and leveraging my relationships with them as best I can. It was the shot in the arm I needed to keep going. Sometimes you just need to hear a peer, or three, say the obvious before you can absorb it. 

It’s worth mentioning that the culture of the event, which was so evident in the mentor session, was one of genuine respect, acceptance and support. There’s something about speaking to a group of professional women in your field and being treated like you are one of them. If there was a lightning bolt moment, this was the one that shot through me. For once, I wasn’t begging to be heard, or positioning myself for respect, or talking down my accomplishments. I was heard and respected and, most radical of all, welcomed. 

The second session was for entrepreneurs in the arts, led by Suzanne Vinnik, opera singer and a natural born DIY diva. She deftly broke down what it means to be an entrepreneur into 10 steps, starting with “be a problem solver and a self-starter” and ending with “not everyone has to like it.” She stressed the importance of cultivating a community of mentors and sponsors. She illuminated her steps with first-hand experiences. She too extolled the virtues of not being afraid of failure. 

The event left me with a stack of business cards which are the beginnings of a personal rolodex of women in the arts. In fact, before I sat down to write this blog essay, I reached out to everyone I met at the symposium to connect with my new community. If all goes well, there may be yet more taco lunches in my future. 

The event also left me with questions about how art and music would be interpreted, performed and produced if women dominated the field as men do. How exciting would it be to see LA’s classical music scene transform into a more inclusive experience? These thoughts, which the symposium brought front and center this weekend, fortified my resolve to work in the arts, promote more female composers in my performances, and gave me courage to keep going. 

Mission accomplished, Hildegards. Thank you.