An Open Letter to Froydis Ree Wekre Followers and the Brass Community at Large

Dialogue on gender discrimination in classical music competitions and auditions...

From the Editor’s Desk

Dear Readers, When most people hear the words “DEI training” or “discrimination awareness,” they imagine a workplace seminar—a slide deck, a sign-in sheet, maybe a coffee break. But the heart of advocacy work—the kind that fosters equity and shifts culture—rarely happens in boardrooms or training rooms alone. It happens in messy, uncomfortable, often thankless spaces: in public discourse, on social media, and in direct conversation. It requires entering arenas where discomfort simmers and pressing forward anyway. Nowhere is this more true than in classical music.

As someone who is DEI-certified with a background in both HR and union work in the arts, I know that awareness doesn’t develop passively—it must be actively cultivated. Our industry, for all its brilliance, is shaped by a culture of silence, power imbalance, and deeply rooted gender and racial inequities. That culture won’t undo itself. The work that many advocates do casts a mirror on both conscious and unconscious biases—especially the latter—and it can trigger defensiveness no matter how respectfully the message is delivered. But if we avoid discomfort, we avoid growth.

This past week, I’ve been in the trenches of social media along with other advocates, engaging directly with influential figures in our field—on Facebook timelines and comment threads—where critical issues of discrimination, competition bias, and gender equity are often dismissed or distorted. These dialogues which I share in full below are part of the wider advocacy this journal was created to amplify: the work of documenting injustice, calling in power, and naming what too often remains unspoken in orchestral culture.

Speaking out about discrimination is not a distraction from the music—it is part of defending the music, and it's important ground work for change. Art created under coercion, silence, or structural exclusion is not truly free. If we cannot confront the inequities embedded within competitions, juries, and institutions, we are not upholding meritocracy—we are preserving its illusion.

The letter I wrote to Frøydis Ree Wekre’s followers about gender blindness (posted both in her comment section and on my page), and the dialogue with Austin Larson on blind auditions, and my exchange with James Sommerville about gender data, along with replying to other musicians in the comment sections all offer a glimpse into how these conversations unfold in real time. I’m not sharing these exchanges to draw attention to myself, but to expose how normalized misogyny still is — and to show the kind of emotional labor, clarity, and collective strength that advocates bring to these conversations, even in the face of condescension, deflection, and indifference.

To educators, performers, students, and every reader who cares about the future of classical music: I hope what follows helps you reflect more deeply, speak more clearly, and stand more boldly when it comes to addressing inequities in this industry.

Thank you for reading and for remaining in this work with me.

With conviction, Katie A. Berglof Chief Editor, Harpsichords & Hot Sauce

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Short Bio on Frøydis Ree Wekre

Frøydis Ree Wekre is a legendary Norwegian horn player whose influence spans generations. A former co-principal of the Oslo Philharmonic, she later became a renowned professor at the Norwegian Academy of Music. Her students now perform in major orchestras around the world. Known for her distinctive tone, wit, and fearless artistry, Frøydis has premiered numerous works written for her and published influential writings, including On Playing the Horn Well. She has received top honors, including the Lindeman Prize, Punto Award, and IHS Honorary Membership.

Frøydis Post on Gender Bias & Discrimination in Competitions:

Link: May 28th, 2025

"I am thinking about international competitions in music. Katherine Needleman, principal oboe in Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, USA, has bravely taken it upon herself to stand up for the rights of women musicians in the world of classical music. She has presented this statement: "I think that all competitions are rigged." Her concern is what she sees as a lack of women wind players in the final rounds, as prize winners. Therefore she suggests to have more women in the juries.

I like to share some information:

1) There have been women prize winners in international competitions, even with an all-male-jury, also on wind instruments. From the top of my head, I can mention ARD and Markneukirchen in Germany, Jeju in South Korea, Prague in Czechia, Porcia in Italy and Lieksa in Finland. The complete list is probably longer.

2) In one jury with 5 men and 2 women, the decisive, low vote - which unabled a woman competitor to reach the final round - came from a female juror.

How do I know this? Starting in 1971, I have been a member of approximately 50 juries in international competitions for horn, in average one a year. In the beginning I used to be the only woman. In later years we have been 2 or 3, in juries of 7 members.

When being the chair, I got to see all the votes. Also, in certain competitions today all the votes are being shown to the whole jury. I have never seen that my male colleagues systematically voted female players down. What I have seen, however, is strategic votings, which I have addressed in an earlier post here on FB. (Such as voting good players down to increase the chances of progress for your own, former students, or voting competitors from your own nation up, or voting students from a rival teacher down.)

The major international competitions which I am familiar with, have been working constantly on their jury rules and voting systems, in order to reduce the possibilities of such strategic votings.

In most sports, men and women compete in separate classes. In music we compete in the same class, because musicianship and psychology weigh more than physical power. I find this to be very good. But as a consequence, both genders may not necessarily be represented among the prize winners, at all times. This will be changing from year to year." Frøydis adds: "Here some good news for Katherine Needleman. She wrote that there has not been one woman first prize winner on oboe in European competitions. I trusted her statement on this, but today found out the following: Diana Doherty did get a 1st prize at the Prague Spring (ahead of Francois Leleux). 2 out of 3 prize winners that year were female. Furthermore, in 2002, 2 out of 3 ARD 3rd prize winners were women (no 1st or 2nd prizes awarded)." My Reply: "While it’s good to see historical recognition of Diana Doherty’s and others’ achievements, I want to gently but firmly point out that this kind of rebuttal actually proves Katherine’s point—not disproves it.

When someone has to dig back decades to find one example—or cite a year when two women received third prizes—that doesn’t challenge the pattern. It confirms it. These are exceptions, not the norm. Tokenizing wins across 30+ years of competitions don’t undo the clear trend: men overwhelmingly dominate top placements in European oboe competitions year after year.

Also worth noting: citing an instance where no 1st or 2nd prizes were awarded doesn’t exactly prove progress. If anything, it raises more questions about how value is assigned and how standards shift when women are in contention.

What’s more concerning, though, is the public posture of this reply. You haven’t publicly engaged with Katherine’s page, her work, or her advocacy in any meaningful way before this—yet you’ve now publicly “corrected” her, as though to subtly undermine her credibility. That’s not constructive dialogue. That’s strategic distancing.

And let’s be honest—Katherine is not unfamiliar with competition archives.

Her claim was likely grounded in the broader pattern of exclusion, not the total erasure of women’s names. To “fact-check” her like this without acknowledging the statistical weight of her argument feels like deflection, not support.

This isn’t about whether a few women ever placed. It’s about why they so rarely do, especially in a field where the talent pool is balanced—but the outcomes are not.

We need to stop using exceptions to silence truth-tellers.

We need to stop valuing politeness over progress.

And we need to stop defending systems just because we personally made it through them.

Recognition matters. Representation matters more. And pattern recognition is how progress begins." Kristina Mascher-Turner: Thanks so much for this, dear Frøydis! Szabolcs makes an interesting point. I have also noticed while sitting on the jury for international competitions that he number of female applicants is consistently lower than males (and even less from non-binary and trans candidates). This may reflect the competition culture on a more basic level. Perhaps those of us who teach can place more emphasis on the benefits of entering these competitions. Ultimately, we chose the instrument because we have something deep and lyrical to express through the medium of the horn, and a competition is a wonderful way to hone skills and learn to tell these stories in a compelling way. To students reading this, I’d say that you should not avoid competing just because you are afraid you’re not going to be better than everyone else (or even worse, that you won’t play “perfectly”). You’ll improve in the process, learn a lot about yourself, make friends, and when approached in the right spirit, learn to take the feedback constructively while holding on to your confidence and vision." Joseph Goldstein: "This resonates with my own experiences; I have never won a competition, and I never will win a competition (as I age out this year for just about all of them). That's ok, because I've learned a lot more rep than I ever could have (and done detail prep that I never would have) by making the attempt. Beyond that, there can only be a few (or one) winner[s] to any competition; framing the whole thing as a learning opportunity and a celebration of many player's efforts is much healthier and more inclusive for everyone involved." Darryl Hartshorne: "There’s lots to learn from the competition process. But no one joins a competition just for the learning experience. How must it feel to know you’re disadvantaged from the start by bias against your gender." Lara St John: "Hm. Or possibly, women are just practical, and decide not to participate in competitions which hire all-male juries, or which historically have excluded women. Take the Van Cliburn, for example, happening now. In all its years, 7 of 49 medalists have been women (under 15%) and right now, their semi-finalists are 2 of 12 (under 17%). Were I a young pianist, wind player, or brass player, I would certainly avoid places that make a habit of hiring only men juries, or very rarely awarding prizes to women. Traditions, biases and such old habits die hard in this profession." Frøydis Reply to Lara: "Frøydis Ree Wekre

Lara St John I do understand that many musicians dislike competitions. Personally, as a teacher, I do think that they can be great learning places for the young and upcoming generation. Please see the contribution by Kristina Mascher Turner above, and also Austin Larson's comment. If you are really interested, you may also want to check out an interview with me (from 2024) on the website of World Federation of International Music Competitions, wfimc." Amy Adams: "Frøydis Ree Wekre I think you're missing the point of what Lara St John is saying. It's not necessarily that many musicians "dislike competitions" but rather that some musicians recognize the bias (both implicit and explicit) within competitions, and conclude reasonably that they're not worth it. When you or Kristina Mascher Turner or any other commenter says "oh but competitions are great places to learn"...Yes. That is true....but perhaps they're learning some other things as well, such as how institutional bias works (i.e. "strategic voting.")" Katherine Needleman: "Frøydis Ree Wekre Your edits here reveal that now you are accusing me of lying. Yet, you have still not managed to quote me appropriately. Your second edit to your main post is far closer to reality. But if you are going to accuse me of lying, you should not misquote, edit, and still get it wrong. What’s your real goal here, other than to misconstrue the context of what I wrote and call me a liar?" Rebekah Daley: "This seems to take what Katherine has said quite out of context. More inclusion on juries is an important step to create more equal opportunities for students. Is that something you disagree with? It is at best exhausting, and worst dangerous, being the only, or one of only a few women in the room. It allows us to be ignored or bullied without having any recourse. Our schools where we get into massive debt don't protect us, our jobs after school won't protect us. Yes, there has been huge progress made by you and women like you for which I have great respect. We also need more." Frøydis Reply to Rebekah: "Rebekah Daley my experiences are from European competitions, in the categories of Horn and Chamber Music. It seems to me that the climate in the US is different. Fortunately, I have never been ignored or bullied, being in minority. When I started in the Oslo Phil. we were only two women in the orchestra. And, sorry to say, there is no guarantee that female jurors will vote in favour of women participants. I have a lot of sympathy for brave colleagues who stand up and speak out against unjustice. In this case the specific issue is international competitions in music. The majority of those happen in Europe, where I do have a lot of experience. When prominent, established women musicians advice women students against participating, well, then there will be fewer prizes to women." Rebekah's Reply to Frøydis: "That is very fortunate for you. I started in youth orchestra with an almost entirely female horn section and tons of brass female peers. Since I was 16, I have seen my female peers along the way be harassed, coerced, raped, fired, bullied, excluded, and still be straddled with the same student debt as their male counterparts. It's disappointing to see you taking some sort of a stand against someone fighting to fix those systems."

Kate Caliendo Reply to Frøydis post: "Yikes. This perspective is unhelpful to people like me, who have faced discrimination in classical music. Your experience being different does NOT invalidate mine.

When I entered the IHCA contest I was told in the comments by a male judge “fix your hair before playing. It is making me nervous.” (He also blamed his poor English, which did nothing to take away from the sexism of his comment.) Do you think he was ever going to vote for me?

After my semi-final round (yes, I was the only woman who advanced to semi-finals) the organizer of the festival complimented MY HUSBAND, a medical physician who has never touched the horn a day in his life except to carry mine, on his wonderful performance. My husband said he didn’t play and the coordinator said “oh it must be the beard, that our you’re just a handsome guy.”

And my favorite: two women judges praised my performance of España and SCHerZOid, complimenting how many different characters I captured and the storytelling of my performance. A man judge told me that my performance wasn’t theatrical enough. That I needed to make more musical decisions and take more risks. But then he also critiqued certain passages I played because I “didn’t play them like Froydis.” So which is it? Am I allowed to have a voice and make decisions? Will they even be acknowledged? Or do I have to play everything like you did?

Two things can be true: Yes, there have been women who have won international competitions. AND there is still a patriarchal system in classical music that highly rewards male hood." Jeroen Billiet: "Just to note: Goldin (2000) has proved how ‘unblind’ and biased auditions actually are, and there is a lot of follow-up on that study that shows things barely improved since. On the topic of competitions (of which I am personally not a fan) I think there is a major grey zone between ‘rigged’ and ‘unevitably biased’ (or, as said nowadays in educational contexts: ‘intersubjective’ 🙂), yet the problem is much more complex than this.

I happen to have a lot of experience on education at all possible levels, from starters to fully functional professionals.

My findings for my own instrument, the horn, that ‘social bias’ is much more important than jury decisions: where and in which social class you were raised, and -more importantly- how girls often still are ‘silently’ directed towards different outcomes than boys.

Starters in our music schools are nowadays mainly female, and at our 2019 IHS sumposium the majority of pre-professional participants were female (55%). Yet, female first round participation at symposium competitions (always with female representation in the juries, often 50/50) was considerably lower than that, which also reflects in the outcome. Further, out ‘in the wild’, the guys still get an overwhelming majority of jobs. Having experienced a lot of male-only juries (hearing comments on female students ranging from light objectification to straight downwards mysogeny). I do think jury composition can make a difference, however, we should also consider that it is a broader contextual problem, closely related to expectations and self fulfilling prophecies than we dare to admit. A last point: competitions prove to be nowadays very BFM-canon, and mainstream interpretation- confirming. Thinking about investing in a more diverse repertoire might be a first step towards a more equal music scene."

An Open Letter to Frøydis Ree Wekre Followers and the Brass Community at Large from Katie A. Berglof (Published on Facebook):

May 29th, 2025 Dear colleagues, students, and friends of Frøydis,

Frøydis Ree Wekre is a towering figure in our world. Her legacy as a musician and educator is undeniable. She has earned admiration across continents, and for many of us—especially women—her presence in juries and orchestras gave us hope that we, too, could belong.

That’s exactly why her recent post about music competitions, and her response to Katherine Needleman’s advocacy, demands a deeper conversation.

Because when someone with Frøydis’s influence publicly frames a colleague’s critique as an overstatement—reducing it to “all competitions are rigged”—it doesn’t just dismiss an argument. It minimizes a movement.

Let’s not pretend this is a neutral take. It may sound calm and reasoned, but it effectively casts Katherine—who is raising serious concerns about systemic bias in competitions—as someone out to demonize the entire process. It uses the language of experience to sidestep the discomfort of accountability.

So, let’s set the record straight. What is Katherine actually saying?

Katherine isn’t saying competitions should be abolished.

She’s saying look at the outcomes. Look at how often women—especially in wind and brass—don’t appear in final rounds or win top prizes. Look at how opaque the voting systems are. Look at how juries are composed. Look at the patterns. If you consistently see imbalance, it’s not an accident. It’s a system doing exactly what it was built to do.

What Frøydis’s Post Actually Does

Her post may appear generous, but its impact is sharp. It does four things—whether intended or not:

First of all, it uses personal anecdotes to disprove systemic realities. Just because some women have won competitions doesn’t mean the field is fair. Tokenizing wins do not cancel out widespread inequity.

Secondly, it cites a female juror voting against a woman as “proof” that sexism doesn’t exist. That’s not how bias works. Patriarchy is internalized by everyone—including women. This is a classic misread of how structural inequality operates.

Thirdly, it frames Europe as more progressive than the U.S.; Geographic exceptionalism is a distraction. Discrimination is global. So is silence.

Fourth, it subtly warns that speaking out discourages women from participating.

No. What discourages women is being ignored when they do participate. What discourages them is watching the system reward loyalty over talent, connections over integrity, and silence over truth.

And, let’s talk about the commenters on Frøydis’s post….

Frøydis’s post about competitions and Katherine Needleman sparked a wave of comments—and if you read between the lines, you’ll see something deeper than polite disagreement. You’ll see how bias gets protected, how systemic critique gets deflected, and how women are still told to sit down and be grateful.

Ilze Brink said: “I never felt I was discriminated against.”

That’s great for Ilze. But that’s not proof that the system is fair. That’s personal exception fallacy 101—and it invalidates the women who have faced bias. Saying “I didn’t experience it” is not the mic drop people think it is.

Joshua Johnson said: “Your insight only helps the polarizing gender divide!”

This is classic tone-policing. Calling out inequity doesn’t create division—it reveals it. If someone speaking the truth feels “divisive,” that says more about the system than the speaker.

Kristina Mascher-Turner said: “Fewer women apply for competitions. Maybe we should encourage them more.”

This shifts the blame from institutions to individuals. It’s not about women lacking confidence—it’s about a system that doesn’t reward them fairly. That’s victim-blaming dressed up as mentorship.

Yinuo Mu said: “A male won when most of the jury was female. I don’t think gender matters.”

One example doesn’t erase a pattern. Bias isn’t about one event—it’s about trends over time. Women don’t want favoritism—they want fairness.

Rhett Barnwell said: “In harp competitions, women usually win. Are men being discriminated against?”

That’s a false equivalency. The harp world has its own gendered history and set of biases—it’s not parallel to brass or winds. This is textbook whataboutism.

Eyvind said: “Being a woman in brass can be an advantage—you get more likes on social media.”

Visibility isn’t equity. Social media likes don’t lead to tenure, prizes, or safety from gatekeeping. That comment is deeply out of touch with the real-world power dynamics women in brass face every day.

Even Julia Mcdonald, whose comment was more thoughtful, still softened the critique: “We all carry bias, even women.”

True. But that can’t be the end of the conversation. Awareness of bias isn’t the goal—dismantling it is.

These comments, however well-intentioned, show how deep the resistance runs when women challenge systems of power.

Katherine Needleman is raising a serious, documented issue. She’s not attacking competitions—she’s asking why, year after year, women disappear from final rounds. And instead of engaging with that, the conversation has become about tone, individual exceptions, and distractions.

Frøydis, you were one of the few women at the table. You did the work. You broke barriers. But surviving a system doesn’t mean that system was just. It means you were exceptional despite the odds.

Now another woman—Katherine—is asking the field to look at those odds and change them. Please don’t use your privilege and power to downplay inequality.

We can’t celebrate one woman’s survival story while silencing another woman’s call for reform.

Progress means looking at hard truths. It means listening when someone says the playing field still isn’t level. It means choosing not to defend the system just because we made it through.

________________________ Frøydis response to my letter in the comments: "WOW! As a foreigner to the English language I do have problems understanding many of these words, even if I use a dictionary. Thanks, anyway, Katie, for giving me credit as a sort of pioneer. Yes, I was probably very lucky. The vast majority of men I have met and worked with along the way have been polite and supportive. I also put in the necessary work in order to reach a high performing level, in my time. Katherine Needleman is brave and direct, following her calling to help changing what she sees as a bad system. To me, her aggressive and sometimes uncivilised style of arguing unfortunately gets in the way for a deeper admiration from me and many with me. For example, when she states that she never wrote the words: "I think most competitions are rigged", that is simply lying, as was proven shortly afterwards. Also stating, untruly so, that no woman oboe player ever won a 1st prize in an important European competition; that uncorrect statement for me simply works against the cause, which is to make things better. For me, the style of constant accusations gets in the way of the important message, sorry about that. I am not trying to belittle Needleman, just trying to share information about some of my experiences. Many other women horn players (and other female instrumentalists) who are holding good positions have chosen to not get involved in this style of ridiculing and harassing opponents, the way Needleman has been doing, often towards decent male colleagues. If somebody tries to come up with an example of, say, women prize winners, in spite of an all male jury, this information is tossed away as something unimportant, just being exeptions to the rule about men being bad and deep down sexists. Many have been hurt, and therefore stopped commenting on Needleman's accusations. And yes, I was warned against stepping forward into this mine field of dark feelings and arguing techniques." My reply: "Dear Frøydis Ree Wekre, thank you for taking the time to respond. It’s clear from your words that you care deeply about music, about the students you’ve taught, and about the world you helped shape. And you’re right—you likely were lucky to have had positive experiences with men who treated you with respect. That’s a gift. But as you said yourself: you were lucky. And not everyone has been.

That’s the core of this conversation.

We’re not debating whether you worked hard. Of course you did. We’re not debating whether some women have succeeded. They have.

What Katherine Needleman and many others are naming is that despite all of that effort, women in brass and winds are still systematically underrepresented, undervalued, and often quietly pushed aside—especially in competitions, orchestras, and adjudicated spaces where power is concentrated and accountability is minimal.

So when someone says “I was lucky” or “I didn’t experience discrimination,” that can be true. But it can also become a way of unintentionally invalidating those who weren’t lucky, who weren’t believed, or who were told they were imagining things when they asked why the odds were stacked against them.

Now, to your comment about Katherine’s tone:

“Her aggressive and sometimes uncivilized style of arguing gets in the way for a deeper admiration.”

This is where we have to pause for a second and reflect.

Calling a woman’s advocacy “aggressive” or “uncivilized” is not neutral language. These words have a long and painful history—particularly when used to silence women who speak out forcefully or without apology. These are the same words often used to discredit women as too emotional, too angry, too difficult. It’s a centuries-old tactic to protect the comfort of the status quo.

Katherine is not being uncivilized—she’s being direct. She’s speaking in a field that has taught women to be careful, grateful, and quiet.

When someone breaks that pattern, yes—it can feel uncomfortable. But discomfort isn’t disrespect. And naming injustice clearly is not aggression—it’s honesty.

If we only admire women when they’re palatable, polite, and perfectly diplomatic, then our admiration was never unconditional to begin with.

And for many of us, what gets in the way of deeper admiration isn’t Katherine’s tone—it’s the silence of those in power who sidestep the substance of her critique and focus on how she delivers it.

We can’t build a fairer future if we continue to center tone over truth.

We can’t keep measuring a woman’s worth by how softly she speaks.

We can’t ask for change and then recoil when someone shows us the cost of injustice, clearly and unfiltered.

Thank you again for your music, your example, and your decades of work. That history deserves respect. But so does the next generation of women who are picking up the baton—and refusing to stay silent when they see the system hasn’t changed enough."

Rebekah Daley: "Frøydis Ree Wekre It seems you are choosing to focus on the hurt feelings of the men rather than the calls for inclusivity and justice. Meaningful change involves hurt feelings. Believing women when they speak about harm often means being open to hear that other people have been capable of harm that you would not have guessed. It is an uncomfortable truth. You are one of the most highly respected horn players alive, and you should assume you are being treated very differently than someone without your stature. People should not have to be extraordinary players to be treated with humanity." Paul Pitzek: "Maybe I haven't looked closely enough in the past but I've always felt absolutely equal to women in the horn business. From studying in a class with basically 50% girls to seeing girls doing great in both auditions and competitions - winning them because they were just better - all the way to my orchestra that consists of far more than 50% of women (even the woodwind section), a gender issue never happened to cross my career. And that although I professionally worked in 4 European countries. Maybe there is a major difference to US orchestras, many things there seem quiet odd to us Europeans. However, in my eyes female horn players have exactly the same abilities to do fantastic in this business and you, Frøydis, are probably the best example for it. With being a female role model for your playing and teaching and for having encouraged many generations of musicians, what you've done for this art is beyond comprehension. That is something that some critics should keep in mind when they're arguing with you although you've layed the big base layer for them to work on in the first place." My reply to Paul: "Paul Pitzek I hear what you're saying, and I’m glad that your experiences in the horn world have felt fair and equitable. But I think it’s important to remember that personal experience—especially when it hasn’t included systemic barriers—can’t always be used as a baseline for everyone else’s reality, especially if you are not a woman speaking experience as a woman in the field who has faced prejudice and discrimination.

The fact that you’ve seen women succeeding in your circle is very encouraging and I'm glad to hear it, but it doesn’t erase the broader trends of underrepresentation, particularly in top-tier competition wins, principal roles, and leadership positions in orchestras.

The lived experiences of many women—especially those who’ve spoken publicly about being misjudged or overlooked—deserve just as much weight as your own.

You also mention Frøydis as a role model, and I wholeheartedly agree. Her legacy is enormous. But even as we celebrate her achievements, we also have to be careful not to use individual success stories as proof that systemic barriers no longer exist. That’s a common mistake in equity conversations: pointing to one person’s triumph and assuming it means the playing field is level for all.

Finally, as to your comment that some critics “should keep in mind what she’s done before arguing”—I’d say this: respecting someone’s legacy and holding them accountable aren’t mutually exclusive. It’s possible to admire someone deeply and still question how their public words affect those coming up behind them. That’s part of growing, evolving, and building a stronger community together." Tianxiang Gu: "In this world shackled by political correctness, [Froydis] you're a brave soul who dares to speak the truth, while she [Katherine Needleman] is nothing more than a clown craving attention — a troublemaker stirring the pot." My reply to Tianxiang: "Tianxiang Gu this is the exact toxic masculine behavior towards women so many advocates have been highlighting." Ann Winkless: "Tianxiang Gu many people have taken part in these discussions. Most people have genuinely wanted to help the classical music world to make progress. I find it disappointing that your comment does not do this. I have been reading Katherine Needleman's posts for just over a year now. I am indebted to her for her time and effort to improve things for many people. I have read many of her posts. Sometimes I find them difficult, as they also challenge me. But at no time have I thought that she is "a clown craving attention", or "a troublemaker stirring the pot". I do not think this is fair. I also think it is rude." Ann Winkless Replies to Amy Krueger: "Her [Froydis] original post stated that Katherine Needleman said "all"competitions are rigged (and also did not take into account the context of that statement). It is really, really important, if quoting someone in a situation like this, to get these 2 things right. I find it difficult to accept this, especially as Katherine is under constant attack from a particular section of the musical world. And then unfortunately, this enables these people to attack even more. And (though this matters little in the great scheme of things), because she then edited her own post to say "most", not all, without acknowledging it, a person reading my previous post (in reponse) could then think that I am one of those people who just blindly support Katherine. So this then also impacts on my creditability. This suggests to me a kind of carelessness. And, from other comments, I can see that she has (justifiably) huge influence in the musical world. With this influence should come great care with words. It's fine to make a mistake, but it's important to acknowledge it. If I were in Katherine's situation, it would really be frustrating that someone like this is careless about something that matters to me so much, and for which I have been prepared to sacrifice a lot. It is bad enough when people of little worth attack her constantly, but for someone of huge worth in this field to be careless, about something of such huge importance to me and then not acknowledge the carelessness, I think this would be adding insult to injury." Rebekah Daley reply to Amy Kreuger: "[Your comments are] a good example of how conversations about systemic harm get derailed. Focusing on the messenger instead of the substance is a common way to avoid engaging with the real issue.

It seems clear to me that the purpose of Frøydis’s post was to undermine Katherine’s credibility. That’s not just sharing her experience. It’s an attempt to discredit someone raising legitimate concerns.

I’ve heard from many students who were warned by teachers not to engage with anything Katherine posts. That creates the illusion that fewer people support this work than actually do.

Dismissing her methods instead of addressing the issues she raises helps maintain the very systems we say we want to change. Katherine is holding herself accountable constantly with her open and public work.

Protest isn’t always pretty". Amy Kreuger: "Rebekah Daley I understand that’s how you see it, yet it seems clear to me that the purpose was to correct an inaccurate statement Katherine made, and share her experience from her perspective as a European. She has been engaging about the real issue this entire time in her post. I’m personally in support of not engaging with Katherine’s posts but that’s a different topic too. And people have raised legitimate concerns about Katherine’s activism and its impact on interpersonal relationships offline, yet we are all told we can’t judge how someone chooses to be an activist. But when we do our own activism, if it is slightly different from hers, we are torn down. Like this." Rebekah Daley: "Amy Krueger Amy, I noticed the comments were deleted, so I want to clarify in case there's confusion. You were right. You used the word "hurt," not "harm." That's on me, and I'm correcting that now. Let me be more clear:

What you're calling hurt looks a lot more like discomfort with accountability. I am far more concerned with people's actual safety and inclusion than with the temporary discomfort that comes from being held accountable.

If you'd like to revisit the context, I'm happy to provide screenshots of the original exchange. .....I engage in these conversations in an effort to help give language for others who might be finding themselves stuck in the same conversation. You deleting them makes this a waste of my time which I find pretty disrespectful. I will not engage further." Eyvind Sommerfelt: "Being a woman playing a male dominated instrument can be a huge advantage too! I have been writing news for the International Trombone Association, and posts featuring women typically get A LOT more likes and attention than ones about men! As for competitions... they are problematic, but I like that recordings are often public. If you promote your own student over superior talent, everyone will know about it..." "Yes, it is good attention, from both men and women. Sexism and bad behavior happens, but I do not think that should be the main storyline of women about my field. Bad things certainly happen to men too." My Reply to Eyvind: "Hi Eyvind Sommerfelt, I appreciate your engagement here, but I think it’s important to address a few assumptions in your comment.

You wrote that sexism “should not be the main storyline of women” in your field — but with respect, that’s not something for others to dictate. If a persistent pattern of discrimination, exclusion, or devaluation has shaped many women’s lived experiences in this profession, then yes — that is a central part of their story.

And it deserves space, even when it’s uncomfortable. Pointing out that “bad things happen to men too” isn’t a rebuttal — it’s a deflection. No one is claiming that men never suffer. What’s being discussed here is a systemic pattern of inequality that disproportionately affects women and marginalized genders — especially in classical music fields like brass, where representation, advancement, and recognition are still deeply uneven.

This isn’t about “bad behavior” in isolation — it’s about structural conditions that make it harder for women to succeed, speak up, or even be taken seriously without facing backlash.

If more women are choosing to share this side of their experience, it’s not because they’re seeking negative attention — it’s because they’re long overdue to be heard. And frankly, it’s not women’s job to make sure every conversation about inequality is palatable to those who’ve never had to navigate it.

No one is asking for sexism to be the only storyline. But denying that it’s a major one — and trying to reroute the narrative to make it more “balanced” — only reinforces the very silence and dismissal that brought us here." Eyvind Sommerfelt: "Katie A. Berglof The OP of this post, as I read it, is that men in juries typically do NOT discriminate against women. In my experience, discrimination and sexism is very rare, so no, from my European point of view, sexism is neither "the only" nor "a major" storyline." My Response to Eyvind: "Eyvind Sommerfelt your experience particularly as a man (you are not a woman) is not the measure of whether sexism exists in music competitions or not.

That’s equivalent to a white man telling a person of color that racism doesn’t exist.

You said that from your “European point of view,” sexism is rare. That doesn’t erase the extensive and repeated testimony of countless women musicians, many of whom have worked and competed in the same European systems you refer to. When women say they’ve experienced discrimination, bias, and exclusion — consistently, across countries and decades — that is data. And it should be taken seriously, not dismissed because it doesn’t align with your personal observations.

The original post you’re referring to (from Frøydis Ree Wekre) stated that in her experience, she didn’t encounter discrimination — and that’s valid for her. But she used that experience to downplay the reality that many others, including current professional musicians, have repeatedly called attention to. And she allowed the conversation under her post to become a place where concerns about gender bias were minimized, mocked, or waved off as overreaction.

The point of this conversation is not to pit individual experiences against each other — it’s to ask what patterns exist, what voices are consistently excluded or disbelieved, and what we can do to create a fairer system. Your “European point of view” isn’t under attack — but it’s also not the whole picture. And insisting that sexism is rare because you haven’t seen it is exactly the kind of perspective that allows it to persist unnoticed and unchallenged.

If we want a truly equitable field, we have to be willing to listen to those who’ve been most affected by its inequities — even when what they say is hard to hear." Eyvind Sommerfelt: "Katie A. Berglof The whole purpose of the OP as I understood it is that your point of view is not the only valid one either, and if you intend to "read countless stories from women", that will make you biased. I have worked as a professional musicians in MANY ensembles for many years, and studied at several schools as well. I don't think it is fair of you to dismiss me because my experiences and observations do not fit your narrative. Europe is also different, as many battles about sexism have been fought and won already, most notably by Abbie Conant in Germany." My final response to Eyvind: "Eyvind Sommerfelt let’s cut to the truth here — because what you’ve written doesn’t just reflect disagreement, it reflects a misunderstanding of how power and bias operate.

When you say that reading “countless stories from women” would make someone biased, you’ve exposed the very problem this entire conversation is about. Listening to women isn’t bias — it’s what equity looks like. Dismissing their experiences as “just narratives” while holding up your own as objective truth is a textbook example of privilege mistaking itself for neutrality.

You say discrimination is “rare” — but rare to whom? You? That’s not evidence; that’s a vantage point. And the fact that you’ve worked in several ensembles or studied at multiple schools doesn’t immunize you from bias — in fact, the more insulated a person is within a system, the more likely they are to miss the patterns right in front of them.

You mention Abbie Conant like her case was a period at the end of a sentence. But the reality is that her fight exposed how rigged the system was — and how many gatekeepers resisted even basic fairness. That was in Germany, in Europe, where you say these battles have already been “won.” Really? Plus, Abbie constantly shares stories of discrimination against women, including Katherine Needleman’s posts on this very topic.

Again, being a man trying to tell a woman that sexism doesn’t exist to you is like a white person telling a person of color that racism does not exist.

I’ll leave you with this: the greatest act of strength in a conversation like this isn’t defending your past. It’s asking whether you’ve spent enough time listening to people whose future is being shaped by the very systems you say are already fair.

Women in music don’t need your permission to speak. But they sure as hell deserve more than being told their truth is bias." Rhett Barnell:"I am saddened that Froydis has, in my opinion, been unfairly attacked for simply speaking to the reality of the situation. She was accused of anecdotal statements and yet no one has yet presented a chart with all of the competitions and genders of the winners, in the past 5 years, for example to prove their point. Yes, sexism does exist, and it was certainly much worse in the past. But I’ll throw in my own anecdotes - I’ve auditioned for jobs on horn, cello and organ over the last 40 years and I have frequently been beaten by women. Katie A. Berglof summarily and naively dismissed my very valid point about the harp as a false equivalency. It actually disproves her claim of systematic discrimination, at least in our current period, and the past as well. Playing the harp used to be a largely male dominated profession, but now it is disproportionately female, and females win most of the competitions. We really need to look at this issue, as Froydis Frøydis Ree Wekre tried, with fairness and objective reality, instead of having what is obviously a prejudiced agenda by the others I see posting. Of course I will be dismissed because I am a man. I salute Froydis for her bravery to speak words of wisdom to this issue and she does not deserve to be insulted." My reply to Rhett: "I never once attacked you or Froydis. I'm sorry if that is what it felt like. I'm here to inform, not to attack. I hope you will re-read my words with an open mind and let down your guard.

I want to state some statistics here that might help, and also give context to the information that Froydis was pointing to when it comes to Katherine Needleman. Here is a comment I wrote to another horn player asking for data:

"You're right that patterns and trends are a form of data—and I fully agree that documentation, when available, strengthens the case for systemic critique. The issue is that in classical music, especially in competitions, meaningful transparency is rare.

Institutions rarely release jury demographics, voting records, or applicant data, which means much of the evidence we have is pattern-based, reported by individuals, and drawn from consistent outcomes over years.

That said, there is still plenty of verifiable public data that reflects the disparities:

World Federation of International Music Competitions (WFIMC) reports that only 3 of 20 major piano competitions were won by women—and 8 of those competitions had all-male finalist lists.

At the Leeds International Piano Competition, men won 82% of the most recent 40 competitions, and more than a third had all-male finals.

The Donne Foundation (2024) found that only 7.5% of programmed works globally were composed by women—while 78.4% were by white men.

On the oboe-specific data:

No woman has ever won first prize in oboe at either Geneva or ARD—arguably the most prestigious European competitions for the instrument.

Yes, Diana Doherty won Prague in 1990, but she’s a once-in-a-generation talent—and even then, her career was eclipsed by male soloists. That fact alone illustrates how systemic preference, not talent alone, shapes outcomes.

And just to clarify an important point:

When Froydis paraphrased Katherine as saying “all competitions are rigged,” she misrepresented the original statement. And yes, she corrected it later, which is good, but she still did not give enough information on what Kathrine said.

On May 11th, Katherine Needleman made a public post about the Prague Spring International Music Competition, pointing out that:

"6 of the 12 semi-finalists were women,

only 2 of 7 jurors were women,

and 0 of the 12 required pieces were by women composers—even in 2025."

When someone in the comments named Guido Ghetti sarcastically asked if she was saying the competition was rigged, Katherine replied:

“I think most contests are rigged.”

This was a candid answer to a pointed question—not a blanket claim that every competition is corrupt. She went on to explain that the gender imbalance in winners at Geneva and ARD, combined with structural imbalances in repertoire and jury representation, reflects a long-standing bias—not a conspiracy, but a skewed system.

That distinction matters. And reducing that nuanced concern to “Kathrine says all competitions are rigged” undercuts a much deeper, necessary conversation.

Many people think I'm simply defending Katherine. But I'm here to highlight the inequities that deserve to be seen in conversations that frost over them - unintentionally or not." Ronald Leonard: "I have always been thankful that so many orchestral auditions are behind screens. In the case of section string players, sex is no problem, nor generally one’s own students can usually be a problem. But when the people are advanced to the point where they have to play in the orchestra as part of the audition, then is where the problems can occur, and so far as I know, nobody has ever been able to come up with a way of dealing with human nature. That said, in my experience most of us are just looking for the best person possible for any situation." My reply to Ronald: "Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I agree that the use of screens in orchestral auditions has been a crucial reform. The research backs this up: blind auditions have significantly increased the likelihood that women advance. They help level the playing field by focusing evaluation on musicianship alone, especially in the preliminary stages where bias is most likely to go unchecked.

But, I want to address the idea that “nobody has ever been able to come up with a way of dealing with human nature.”

Human nature is complex, yes — but institutional bias is not just human nature; it’s also a structural and cultural issue. And there are ways we can mitigate it, particularly in the final audition rounds and international competitions where anonymity often disappears and power dynamics return in full force.

Structural and policy reforms are essential if we want to meaningfully reduce bias, discrimination, and safety risks in auditions and international competitions.

......Ideally a fully blind audition would be the most impactful. But adoption of a hybrid blind audition format can be helpful too. Screens should be used throughout the early rounds — and even semifinals — to eliminate bias based on gender, age, race, or familiarity.

In final rounds, if screens are removed, scores should be independently submitted before deliberation. This allows for musical judgment to remain the primary focus without visual identity clouding the outcome.

......A strong conflict-of-interest policy should also be in place. All jurors must disclose any prior teacher-student relationships, shared academic affiliations, or recent professional collaborations — typically within the past five years.

If a conflict is identified, the juror should recuse themselves from evaluating that candidate. Juror panels should also rotate regularly to avoid entrenched gatekeeping or insular professional networks controlling outcomes year after year.

.....Equally important is a jury misconduct policy. Individuals with unresolved sexual misconduct allegations, or those with substantiated findings against them, should not be allowed to serve as jurors.

This protects candidates and upholds the integrity of the adjudication process. A thorough background check or vetting process should be conducted before jury appointments, but this is not a standard practice and I am unsure why (since our industry is plagued with sexual misconduct).

......Institutions should also provide an independent, confidential channel to report jury misconduct and guarantee protections for those who come forward — especially students or early-career professionals who need to file a grievance.

.....Jury panels themselves must reflect gender and demographic diversity, particularly in areas like brass, percussion, where imbalance has long persisted. This goes beyond gender parity — it also means including jurors from different regions, schools of thought, and cultural backgrounds to avoid reinforcing narrow definitions of artistic excellence.

.......To ensure fairness during deliberation, jurors should be required to submit their evaluations anonymously and in writing before any discussion begins, like I mentioned.

This minimizes the influence of dominant personalities and helps prevent “groupthink.” Digital scoring platforms would be great and they could be used to increase transparency and identify patterns of potential bias. But I am unsure if institutions or competitions have tried this or not.

It's also important to address the subtle but powerful role of nonverbal communication among jurors during live listening. In many audition settings — especially finals or orchestra trial rounds — jurors are seated together, with clear lines of sight to one another.

In these situations, principal players or influential figures have been known to use subtle body language to indicate preferences to their colleagues in real time their preference for a particular candidate. A nod of approval or a raised eyebrow can quietly sway others before they've had a chance to form their own unbiased opinion.

It would be great if there was a way to work around this, but if jurors are required to do mandatory anti-bias and misconduct training, and if there is a jury misconduct policy or reporting process in place, this may help reduce such incidents from happening.

......After a competition, organizers should be committed to post-competition transparency. This includes publishing the final rankings, jury composition, and — when possible — a redacted summary of how decisions were reached. This transparency builds public trust and allows institutions to reflect on whether their procedures are truly equitable.

.....Additionally, like I stated briefly before, juror training should be mandatory. Just as teachers and HR professionals undergo anti-bias and misconduct training, jurors should receive annual education on harassment prevention, conflict of interest, and equity in adjudication. These trainings should be seen not as punitive but as professional standards for anyone trusted with this responsibility.

......Lastly, competitions must adopt clear safe environment policies. Jurors or faculty who host students, attend post-competition events, or engage informally with participants must adhere to clear conduct codes. Competitions and festivals should designate third-party safety ombudspersons who can receive grievances or concerns confidentially when safety issues arise.

These steps are not radical. They’re overdue. If we want to move beyond intention and truly cultivate fairness in music competitions and auditions, these are examples of the systems we must build.

You mentioned that “most of us are just looking for the best person possible.” I truly believe that many jurors do have that intention. But intentions alone aren’t enough.

Bias — whether it’s gender-based, racial, pedagogical, or reputational — is rarely deliberate. It’s structural. And if we don't acknowledge it, it silently shapes the outcomes we think are “objective.”

Thanks for being part of the conversation again....these exchanges are how progress continues.

June 2nd, 2025, Froydis posts: "Dear all, here comes my attempt to wrap up the discussion during the last week. I am very grateful for the support from people who understood my points about international competitions. Following all the negative responses, I now feel a need to explain, in more detail, my experiences and viewpoints.

First to the unfortunate misquote from my side. Katherine Needleman's one short sentence, published on her Facebook page, puzzled me: "I think most competitions are rigged." That statement kept bugging me for some days. When I decided to write a response, I could not find her comment again, so I wrote it down from memory. It turned out my memory was not 100 %; this was my version of her statement: "I believe all competitions are rigged."

For this I have apologized already, but obviously Katherine Needleman is stilll upset. So, let me apologize again.

Also, my use of the word "lying" was maybe too strong, one more apology. "Misinformation" would have been a better word.

Katherine Needleman shares some personal, negative experiences. She also calls my life "perfect". I think nobody's life is being felt as perfect, nor does my life. I also have, at times, had to work hard to ignore stupid comments or actions, mostly from just a few men.

And yes, some men are - and have been - behaving in terrible ways, treating women as second (or third) class human beings. Many women have suffered a lot and been horribly hurt. I have the deepest empathy for all such victims.

Now I prefer limiting this discussion to the important, mostly European competitions in music, and whether women competitors will have a fair chance to advance, even without at least 51 % women in all juries.

In most sports it is easy to establish the winners. Those who jump higher or run faster etc. are winners, in separate classes, men and women. When it comes to judging art, such as performances in classical music, a system with a somewhat large jury is being used. Taste and preferances do vary, sometimes from continent to continent, and sometimes between musicians from the same village, so to speak. Therefore, as of today, the international soloist competitions use a jury system, most of them with 7 jurors. In my first jury days we were 8 or 9, but economic aspects forced that number down. In this dicussion, my shared experiences from multiple jury assignments was actually labeled by one person as anecdotical. A surprising attempt of belittling. The label "witness statement" would be more correct.

Now some inside details about how most international competitions function:

1) In the juries there are normally maximum 3 high level musicians/teachers from the country arranging the competition, plus 4 similarly high level musicians/teachers from 4 different countries. In the most recent juries I have attended we were 3 women. Once an invitation to serve on a jury has been accepted, one has no influence upon who the other jurors will be.

2) Today the serious competitions have rigid rules, both for the voting itself, and also for the behavior of the jurors, inside and outside of the jury room. In the jury room, discussions may only happen after the result of the last round. Each juror gives their own opinion about the ranking of the candidates, by written numbers. The best such voting system today, in my view, stems from years of research at ARD in Munich. Each vote counts, no taking away of high and low votes. Each juror gets to choose between 9 points: 9-8-7, = yes, please forward this candidate. 6-5-4, = maybe this candidate could be advanced, if there is space. 3-2-1, = please let me not hear this candidate again. Furthermore, in their free time, the jurors are not allowed to talk about, or discuss the performances between themselves, or the competitors, or anything related to the competition. Also, a teacher cannot vote for his/her own, current student. This can only happen after a period of 18 months since the last lesson. And no juror may have contact with the competitors as long as they are still competing.

To the young and aspiring students/professionals, I usually recommend participation, for the same reasons mentioned earlier in this discussion by Kristina Mascher Turner and Austin Larson. For those interested, here is the link to an interview with the World Fedration of International Competitions in Music,located in Geneva: https:/wfimc.org/news-media/grand-dame-horn

3) As pointed out early in this discussion by professor Szabolcs Zempleni in Berlin, the number of men and women who actually do show up and compete, will naturally be an important factor when later counting how many prizes were won by women. On harp, the prize winners are mostly women, on tuba mostly men. Historically, there have always been a lot more men than women playing the tuba, and vice versa, a lot more women than men have chosen the harp as their instrument. However, in our time these numbers are changing, little by little.

4) Then some thoughts about feedback given to those who do not progress to the next rounds: As shown in an earlier post by Katherine Needleman, unfortunately high level musicians are not automatically the best teachers. I have been told, or heard about, some rather negative comments given to both male and female competitors. Giving realistic, but constructive feedback is an art. Not being elected to move on to the next round is of course in itself a sort of feedback.

Such an outcome can make one feel hurt and angry, and f.ex. blame the result on systemic discrimination of women. On the other hand, it may also give an opportunity for learning: How can I improve my performance?

In my second book, Collected Writings, I have tried to discuss the art of giving constructive feedback in more depths.

5) Screens: In orchestra auditions I am all in favour of using screens. For soloist competitions, the visual athmosphere on stage is also a part to take into consideration. Is there a connection to the audience? Or is the performance a private event, going on between the soloist and the pianist?

All the competition rules listed here have been developed over more than 50 years at the ARD competition in Munich. They are based upon what the administration has seen as necessary, in order to secure the best and most fair conditions for all the competitors, men and women in the same class. My Reply to Froydis: "Frøydis Ree Wekre, thank you for your recent reflections and for your willingness to engage in this important conversation. Your acknowledgment of the misquote regarding Katherine Needleman's statement and your subsequent apology demonstrate a commendable commitment to accuracy and respect.

I also appreciate your recognition that "high-level musicians are not automatically the best teachers." This insight is crucial, as it underscores the importance of effective communication and mentorship in nurturing the next generation of musicians.

However, I would like to address some aspects of your message that warrant further discussion.

On the Characterization of Feedback and Emotional Responses....

You mention that receiving negative feedback or not advancing in competitions can lead individuals to feel "hurt and angry," potentially attributing their disappointment to systemic discrimination. While it's true that rejection can be emotionally challenging, it's important to recognize that concerns about systemic bias are not merely emotional reactions but are often grounded in lived experiences and observable patterns.

For instance, a study by the World Federation of International Music Competitions found that out of 20 major piano competitions, only 3 were won by women, and 8 had all-male finalist lists. Such statistics suggest that systemic factors influence outcomes, beyond individual performance or emotional responses.

On the Use of Screens in Competitions (please see my comment to Austin Larson on your original thread).....

While you express support for screens in orchestral auditions, you raise concerns about their use in soloist competitions, suggesting that visual elements contribute to the performance's atmosphere. However, it's worth noting that blind auditions have been shown to significantly reduce gender bias. Research indicates that blind auditions increased the likelihood of female musicians advancing by 11 percentage points in preliminary rounds and by 30% in final rounds.

While visual presentation is indeed a component of performance, ensuring fairness and minimizing bias should be paramount. Perhaps a hybrid approach could be considered, where initial rounds are conducted blindly to assess musicality objectively, followed by later rounds that incorporate visual elements.

On the Evolution of Competition Rules....

You note that the rules governing competitions have been developed over more than 50 years at the ARD competition in Munich. While tradition provides a foundation, it's essential to continuously evaluate and adapt practices to align with contemporary understandings of equity and inclusion. Long-standing procedures should not be immune to scrutiny, especially if they inadvertently perpetuate disparities.

By critically examining our practices and remaining receptive to diverse perspectives, we can work together to foster a more inclusive and equitable environment in the world of classical music.

Musicians must be taught to think critically, not just technically. Unlike other fields where students are expected to publish, debate, and critique the systems they operate within, classical music too often discourages questioning.

The culture of “listen to your teacher, don’t question authority” has stifled necessary growth. Yet, the classical industry is not immune to bias, exclusion, or outdated traditions—and international competitions are no exception.

Critical thinking is not "negative thinking", and experiencing bias and discrimination is not "negative feelings", and ; it’s a vital skill for any profession that seeks progress, fairness, and longevity.

By minimizing and labeling important discussions as "negative" only perpetuates the notion that speaking up about this critical issues like gender discrimination and bias is not wanted on your posts by you.

Notice how the commenter before me reinstated your label of "negative emotions". This I feel reflects the power you have as an influential leader to minimize important dialogue and deflect from other voices who have taken a great deal of time to share their experiences of gender discrimination with you.

Thank you for understanding, and I hope that you remain open to reflecting on the words given." 🙏 Froydis replies: "Thanks yourself, for sharing some of the research going on, and for your polite discussion tone! However, I feel I have to get back to a couple of statements from your first post. This time I will be very careful and not pretend any quote being 100 % correct. So if you can bear with me: 1) You hinted that if a woman wins a prize it is because the men (some men) feel that a token woman prize winner is necessary. Something like that. This kind of thinking is to me a seriously belittling those women who actually get out there and manage to get prizes, competing with men. Also, with the kind of rules used today, how could such a thing as a "token" prize winner happen, technically speaking? 2) I just heard on the jungle telegraph that an international bassoon jury was critizised for consisting of men only (Prague). The result of that particular competition was that two women were 1st and 2nd prize winner. then there was not much said. 3) THINGS TAKE TIME. Today more women than ever play in professional orchestras around the world, many as section leaders. A completely different situation compared to 64 years ago, when I started in the profession. Wind players are, so far, somewhat behind the strings, but getting there, year by year. 4) Europe versus USA, being more or less progressive? We have and have had in European countries more female presidents, prime ministers and other ministers than the US. That would be one way of measuring "progressiveness". About my own instrument: There are a lot more professional female principal horn players (plus diverse tutti players) in Europe than in the US. ( Well, there are also many more fully professional orchestras in Europe, but that is another kind of debate.) Women horn players with prizes in international competitions, from the top of my head: Marie-Luise Neunecker, Sibylle Mahni, Renate Hupka, Vladimira Klanska, Katarina Jarkova, Hildegun Flatabø. (I probably forgot some)... and the ratio between male and female participants in those days was anything but 50/50.I I do share this information, because I think it is not so well known among the readers of these FB posts. And then there are top people like Julie Landsman, Gail Williams and Jennifer Montone, principals now or earlier, in prominent US orchestras. Just to mention the pioneers. I know there are many more these days. Great progress since I first came around." Kate Caliendo replies to Froydis: "So we should all stay silent about inequalities because there has been “progress?” Yes, there have been women prize-winners in major competitions. AND there is still a highly patriarchal system in classical music that rewards male-hood. Maybe your experience has been slightly different. But that doesn’t negate the experiences of people, like myself, who have been victims of bias and discrimination." My reply to Froydis: "I’m assuming you’re writing to me? But if not, please inform me. I appreciate your engagement and the historical insights you’ve shared — your perspective and lived experience in the brass world over many decades is important context.

That said, I want to gently push back on a few points you raised, not to discredit individual accomplishments (which are real and hard-won), but to redirect the focus toward systems and power structures that persist even when progress is visible.

1) On tokenism — To clarify, I never stated that a woman who has won is a token.

What I was pointing out is that when you list a handful of women as “proof” that the system is fair, that’s actually an example of tokenism in action.

Highlighting the only female oboist who has won Prague doesn’t disprove the existence of broader, systemic inequality.

It often has the opposite effect: it gives institutions cover to avoid addressing deeper patterns of exclusion, bias, or gatekeeping.

Tokenism isn’t about the women themselves — it’s about how their success is used to deflect criticism or scrutiny of the system they succeeded in despite its barriers.

2) Regarding the Prague competition — it’s great that two women won top prizes. But a male-only jury is still a valid concern, and wins by women do not negate the importance of gender diversity among decision-makers. Representation on juries matters because it affects how musicians are evaluated and who is seen as “artistic,” “authoritative,” or “worthy” in subtle but very real ways.

3) On “things take time” — respectfully, this framing can unintentionally downplay the very real urgency many of us feel.

Yes, there’s been progress. But the rate of change isn’t just “natural” or organic — it’s been forced forward by activism, litigation, and often by women and marginalized musicians risking careers to demand better.

We’re not asking for miracles. We’re asking for honesty about what still needs to change — and accountability from those in power to help change it faster.

4) Europe vs. the US — I agree that “progressiveness” isn’t simple to measure. While Europe has elected more female heads of state, it’s also true that in certain cultural and musical institutions (including some competitions), old boys’ networks remain strong.

Similarly, the U.S. has its own deeply embedded gatekeeping. This isn’t about which continent wins — it’s about recognizing global patterns of exclusion, and refusing to let pockets of progress distract from the work that’s still ahead.

Discriminating doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and it’s not isolated to just the U.S.

And finally — I want to make it clear that I deeply respect the pioneers you’ve named.

Many of them faced impossible odds, and their contributions helped pave the way for many of us, including myself.

But honoring them also means continuing the work they started — not assuming the job is done.

Thanks again for the conversation — I value the chance to continue this dialogue with honesty and care." Froydis replies to me: "Katie A. Berglof when I mentioned the only woman 1st prize winner on oboe, it was meant to inform Katherine Needleman (and her readers) that she had misinformed us. She wrote that there is no woman 1st prize winner on oboe." My reply to Froydis: "Frøydis Ree Wekre, thank you for your replies to my comments in this thread, and the one posted a few days ago.

However, I think it’s time to acknowledge the larger concern that has been consistently raised — not just by me, but by many others who have taken the time to speak thoughtfully here.

This conversation was never about denying individual accomplishments. It was never about minimizing progress or misquoting history.

It was about asking someone in your position — someone with enormous influence — to engage honestly with the systemic barriers that still exist in our field.

Instead, what we’ve been met with is deflection: pointing to isolated examples as proof that there’s no problem, or reframing legitimate concerns about exclusion and gender bias as emotional overreactions.

That kind of response reinforces the very power dynamics many of us are trying to challenge.

To reduce a broader conversation about systemic bias to a technical correction over a single competition result is to entirely miss — or ignore — the point.

My professional background is in Human Resources, union representation, and DEI. I’ve been trained and certified in identifying and addressing institutional inequities, and I’ve worked directly on misconduct investigations, grievance procedures, and structural accountability. I understand how systems operate — and how power is often protected at the expense of truth and fairness.

At this stage, it’s clear that you’re not interested in engaging with the deeper structural issues being raised. You’ve consistently chosen to deny, deflect, and distance yourself from any accountability.

That’s disappointing — but not unfamiliar. Too often, those in power retreat behind their legacy rather than lean into the discomfort of growth.

As a horn player, I once admired you deeply — not just for your artistry, but because my own heritage traces back to Norway. That connection made your work feel even more meaningful to me.

But admiration does not mean silence. And shared lineage does not excuse dismissal.

My time, like that of so many others who’ve contributed here in good faith, is valuable. We speak up not because it’s easy, but because it’s necessary. We deserve better than to be patronized, mischaracterized, or ignored.

I won’t be engaging further. But I sincerely hope you reflect on why so many women — including seasoned professionals, competition winners, educators, and advocates — are raising these concerns.

We’re not imagining the barriers. We’re living them." Kate Caliendo: "Frøydis Ree Wekre so we should all stay silent about inequalities because there has been “progress?” Yes, there have been women prize-winners in major competitions. AND there is still a highly patriarchal system in classical music that rewards male-hood. Maybe your experience has been slightly different. But that doesn’t negate the experiences of people, like myself, who have been victims of bias and discrimination." ".....I would like to know how you would have advised handling this instance from the IHCA in 2024: A male judge told me after the semi-finals that I needed to make more artistic decisions. Then he criticized the way I played certain passages because I “didn’t play them like Froydis.” Meanwhile, two women judges praised my playing in the same round for its many varied characters. Would you have anything to say to that male judge?" Froydis reply: "Kate Caliendo I think this male judge could have found better words in giving advice for how to interpret Espana. I am not the composer of this piece, but I did study it with him. There is no rule or law about interpretations, only maybe RESPECT FOR THE TEXT. Even so, there is still space for personal choices. And some times one has to make compromices due to personal, technical limitations. Also, some times the composers are wrong, or not notating the more subtle details. How to handle this kind of feedback? Personally, I would just walk away."

Emily Harris: I reference one short sentence, author unknown, and which I may be misremembering, but I think I have got the context right: “never teach a pig to sing - it’s a waste of your time, and it irritates the pig." People will see and interpret things as they wish, and I am sorry, dear Frøydis, that people reacted with negativity to your carefully worded insights garnered from your long and impressive service to the world of brass playing, international competitions and musical excellence in general.

I imagine that the negative people quickly skim your carefully chosen words, and then shoot from the hip. Then they feel happy at having blasted someone with their ego-centric comments from their own experience. Truly sorry if they have experienced negative competition results at the hands of a malicious jury panel (be they male or female, by which I mean both the competitors and the jury members). Other people may be struggling in life or with their playing and it may be easier to blame others than to dig deep into the reasons for their own “failure to thrive”.

But there is no excuse for gratuitous online negativity. The sad fact is that those who write nasty comments then go about their day happy about their flaming retort, and able to think of other things, while being on the receiving end of a flame can really ruin your day.

But I digress, I didn’t want to to go off on a psychoanalytical tangent about internet flaming; it was just my intention to show my support for your words of wisdom. I know for a fact that anything you write and choose to share in a public forum has been VERY carefully thought out, and that you subsequently think long and hard before actually clicking on post or send.

Tak Frøydis! My reply to Emily: "Hi Emily Harris, I appreciate your compassion toward someone you clearly admire, and I agree that online dialogue can be harsh and sometimes unproductive. But I do want to gently push back on a few assumptions here, because they reinforce exactly the kind of dismissiveness many of us are trying to address.

When women raise concerns about systemic inequity in competitions, it’s not “shooting from the hip,” nor is it an expression of bitterness or failure. Many of us are successful professionals. We're not blaming others for our careers—we’re shining a light on patterns that are verifiable, persistent, and globally observed, not just personal grievances.

It’s precisely because we respect Froydis’s influence that we ask her to consider how her words land publicly. This isn’t “flaming.” This is civic engagement—criticism of ideas, not character. In other professions, challenging legacies and analyzing power structures is expected, even encouraged.

Music should be no exception.

Also, quoting “never teach a pig to sing” is deeply dehumanizing and doesn’t foster the kind of dialogue I think any of us want. We all deserve better than to be dismissed as unteachable for having the courage to speak up.

Respecting someone’s legacy and challenging their perspective are not mutually exclusive. They’re how progress is made." Alexis Kasperavičius (from the group "Horn People"): A quick note as this conversation unfolds: correlation is not causation. Not every pattern reveals a systemic truth, and chasing meaning without clear evidence can lead us astray. Let’s stay thoughtful and avoid turning complex realities into overly simple narratives. My reply to Alexis: "Alexis Kasperavičius, you're right that correlation isn’t always causation—in science. But in social systems, when patterns repeat over decades, across geographies, and are described by people with vastly different experiences, we’re not just “chasing meaning.” We’re identifying structural trends that demand examination.

Systemic bias isn’t always measurable by clean data alone. It’s often recognized through repeated outcomes: who advances, who gets programmed, who wins, who gets recommended—and who doesn’t. These patterns don’t exist in a vacuum. They reflect values, norms, and networks that shape decision-making behind the scenes.

So yes, we should stay thoughtful. But staying thoughtful also means not dismissing lived experience, consistent disparities, or calls for accountability as “oversimplification.” Sometimes, the story being told is exactly as clear as it looks—if we’re willing to listen. I'll share what I wrote with James Sommerville..." Szabolcs Zee (from the group "Horn People"): "It is my goal as an advocate to inform others, not attack." - That is the point. Please don't attack each others, Froydis is a legend, do not attack her as well. I was one of the commentators, also highlighting the fact that there are far fewer women than men entering the competitions. And at the end I said that I hope we will soon have a female winner again! ...The biggest problem with online conversion is that we just pick out sentences, like I did with the first sentence. Let's hope the music wins out over the words!" My Reply to Szabolcs: "I completely agree with your opening sentiment — that advocacy should inform, not attack. And I want to be very clear: my intention has never been to attack Froydis or anyone else personally.

I know she’s a legend in our field, and I respect what she’s contributed deeply. But I also believe that being a respected figure comes with influence—and with that influence comes a responsibility to consider how our words affect those still facing barriers in the field.

I appreciate that you brought up the imbalance in who enters competitions—because that’s an important part of the picture too. But when those patterns consistently reflect underrepresentation and unequal outcomes, it’s not divisive to name that; it’s honest. And honesty is how we move forward as a community. You’re right that online conversations can make it too easy to miss nuance or intent. That’s why I try to speak with as much clarity and care as I can.

Disagreement doesn’t have to be disrespect—and I truly believe we can hold “both” admiration for someone’s legacy and critical dialogue about the systems we’re still navigating."

---

Rusty Holmes (from the group "Horn People") to me: "I copied and pasted [your writing] into chatgpt to turn it into "I" statements, and it's so much easier to digest for me! Just posting in case it's helpful to others. Your original text makes it seem like your opinion of this situation is fact, and using "I" statements will help get your points across." Luis Jimenez: "Rusty Holmes thank you! Also made it an easier read for me considering this person is stating their opinion and not facts the same way Froydis was stating their observations and opinions." My reply to Luis: "Luis Jimenez, thanks for taking the time to read and share your thoughts. I want to clarify something you were inaccurate about.

My letter wasn’t about sharing personal experience or subjective opinion — it was about pointing to ongoing patterns of gender discrimination in classical music competitions, and calling attention to how Froydis’s public post — intentionally or not — downplayed those systemic issues.

I cited verifiable disparities, like the lack of women winning first prize in top-tier competitions (e.g. Geneva and ARD for oboe), jury gender imbalance, and programming that excludes women composers entirely. That’s not just opinion — that’s documented inequity.

Froydis absolutely has the right to share her perspective. But because she’s a legendary and influential figure in the brass world, her words hold real weight — especially to younger musicians still navigating exclusion and bias.

That’s why her post deserved thoughtful critique, not because she’s wrong to speak, but because her words carry consequence in a field that already struggles with inequality.

And while I appreciate Rusty’s efforts to reframe the letter for readability, repackaging something into “I” statements doesn’t erase the actual arguments or data being presented. Systemic issues don’t become personal just because they make people (including you) uncomfortable." Rebekah Daley replies to Rusty: "Rusty Holmes It is completely possible that this comment was intended to be helpful, to share what helped you understand Katie's words. I'd like to point to something though. An unintentional consequence of this comment is that it undermines Katie A.Berglof's authority. It is very clear to me that Katie has more experience with social justice work in our field than most. I think that is clear from the depth and quality of her comments vs. the arguments that are made against her. Perhaps by we, does she mean those of us that are actively seeking to dismantle the toxic systems in classical music that have long allowed predators to thrive and shunned victims? What is the criteria for speaking with authority? Another member of this group later used what you said here to throw an insult at Katie that I believe has been deleted. Something to the effect of, "use I statements, we already told you."

Again, very likely you found something helpful for your own understanding and wanted to share it so it could be helpful for others. However, I think the way that it was later used as an insult makes it worth taking a second look." Rusty Holmes writes to Rebekah and me: "Rebekah, I think I actually intended to dilute Katie’s authority with my comment. But I really would love to have a rational, non-confrontational convo about it. I didn’t realize Katie was an expert in social work, but I do acknowledge that she writes as though she is. And for the rest of this convo I’ll refer to her as one.

When I read her comments, I understand them to be from her perspective and opinion (even as an expert), not fact. To me, it feels like she speaks with such authority as to say “you should believe this way” rather than “I’m an expert on this and this is my expert view of this situation”. I think in other discussions, professionals and experts have no problem claiming their expert opinion as their own. (Here I’m thinking the perspective of a professional horn player on playing technique or the perspective a doctor might take on a certain diagnosis. I guess the consideration you might suggest here is that this social issue is more black and white?)

It feels like when Katie uses “we” while addressing the whole horn community, it is her way of making her stance the definitive one that everyone needs to abide by, rather than an important expert perspective to consider to make positive change.

And I guess what makes me question her authority and what makes me feel like I need to rewrite what she said into “I” statements, is that if she is an expert, why not just claim the view/perspective as her own rather than making it a broad view that the entire horn community needs to subscribe to. In my opinion, it’s way more effective when an expert owns their perspective as their own and shares it with authority, rather than writing in a way that includes everyone into the perspective. (Does that make sense? That was hard for me to word…)

And the second thing is that there are so many women who do not agree with her view.

I also acknowledge not all women are experts in social work (in fact, compared to the total number of women, not many are). And I have also learned that women operate under that same veil of patriarchy that men do. It makes me think “So women who aren’t experts in social work should also not have an opinion about how to advocate for women?”

Would love feedback and thoughts and Katie A. Berglof please chime in if ya feel like it.

(I’m feeling insecure from when asking questions was making others do my own labor. Makes me think “maybe this is something I should go read a book about rather than discussing on the internet with women who may not want to take the time to explain yet another thing to a man”)." Katie A. Berglof I would also love to hear about your level of expertise. Are you self-taught in social work? Have you taken courses? Do you have a degree?

I ask not to undermine anything about you; I am just wanting to learn more context about your ability to speak with authority on social matters." Mica Redden replies: "Rusty Holmes this is so profoundly arrogant that it actually makes me feel embarrassed for you." My Reply to Rusty Holmes: "Rusty Holmes, I appreciate your willingness to reflect, but I want to directly address several points in your comment, because they raise broader issues that extend beyond me personally.

First, I want to clarify something fundamental: when I use “we” in my writing, I am not positioning myself as the singular voice for all women or all musicians.

I use “we” to speak alongside others who are already doing the hard work of confronting injustice in the classical music world — people who have been harmed by systemic inequalities, those who are actively working to dismantle toxic cultures, and those who have been historically marginalized or silenced in our field. It is not an imposition; it is an act of solidarity. Not to mention the fact that gender discrimination has already been highly researched. I shouldn't have to draw out graphs and statistics to prove to men that it exists.

The suggestion that I should only speak in “I” statements as a way to appear more palatable or less authoritative is not neutral feedback — it is a rhetorical strategy often used to minimize or fragment systemic critique.

In activist and survivor communities, this is known as tone-policing — shifting focus from what is being said to how it’s being said, and it frequently derails critical discourse.

You mentioned that you “intended to dilute [my] authority.” I want to be clear: that is not a neutral intention. It is a deliberate act of undermining, regardless of how rational or well-meaning the follow-up conversation appears. In movements for justice, it’s important to interrogate why someone’s authority — particularly a woman’s, and especially one speaking on gendered harm — is viewed as threatening or excessive when spoken with clarity and confidence.

Professionally, I’ve worked in human resources with formal HR credentials, including experience handling harassment, retaliation, and misconduct claims. I’ve served as a union representative, advocating for worker protections and collective bargaining rights. I am also DEI certified — trained in structural bias, institutional accountability, and inclusive workplace reform. Furthermore, I worked at one of the very few major U.S. orchestras who have had a Chief Diversity Officer as well.

These are not hobbyist credentials; they are applied, labor-intensive disciplines that require both technical and ethical mastery. In addition, I work directly with musicians who have experienced discrimination and abuse — not just as a consultant, but as a founder of the "Courage Over Silence Defense Fund", a resource that supports those being silenced, sued, or professionally exiled for telling the truth.

You mentioned that if I am an expert, I should “just claim the view/perspective as [my] own.” But let’s name what that really means.

It implies that unless I preface every statement with a credential or a disclaimer, my voice is automatically up for questioning. That suggestion — however well-meaning — reveals a deeper bias: one where people like me are expected to earn the right to speak, while others are assumed to have it by default.

Why do women — especially those advocating for justice — have to constantly prove they have the right to speak with authority, while men are rarely asked to clarify their credentials before offering opinions on matters they’re not trained in?

I speak with confidence because I’ve done the work — not just in policy rooms, but in the trenches of institutional harm and recovery. I don’t need to remind people of my qualifications every time I advocate for accountability. That expectation isn’t applied equally, and it shouldn’t be. Men will find any reason to render my statements invalid, no matter what my background may be.

And for the record: there are many forms of expertise — academic, experiential, cultural, and communal. Social change movements have always been driven by people with a variety of lived and learned knowledge.

The civil rights movement wasn’t led by academics. Neither was #MeToo. You don’t need a social work degree to know what harm looks like, to advocate for those harmed, or to speak from a place of hard-won understanding.

I am Latino, a woman, a Salvadoran-born adopted and full-fledged American Citizen who has degrees in music performance on horn, music education, and arts leadership/nonprofit governance. I have HR credentials, training, experience, and I'm DEI Certified, and I'm currently a union rep.

But more importantly, I am a human being who knows my values and stands up for those who are marginalized.

So I’ll say this as plainly as I can: I don’t need to shrink my language, dilute my voice, or self-disqualify just to make it easier for others to tolerate what I’m saying. I’ve earned my place in this work — and I will continue to speak not only as myself, but alongside every musician, advocate, and survivor who refuses to be silenced.

You mentioned that “so many women do not agree” with my view. That’s simply not true. In fact, I’ve heard from countless women, nonbinary musicians, and survivors who strongly resonate with what I’ve said — many of whom stay silent publicly because they fear retaliation or career damage.

Disagreement from a few in this group (i.e., two of them) does not invalidate my systemic critique. That’s a common tactic used to undermine calls for accountability. Patriarchy is not a system upheld only by men; it is a system that teaches all of us — including women — to police each other, to distrust survivors, to conflate compassion with compliance, and to mistake discomfort for danger.

I hope this helps clarify where I am coming from and what I stand for. I’m not here to win everyone’s approval. I’m here to help build something better than what we’ve inherited.

Here is my letter to Froydis (Read the comments in both sections if you want to see woman standing in solidarity):

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/12LAm6brsmK/

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=1522091585435092&id=100029027947384

Here is my website:

https://www.harpsichord-hotsauce.com/

Here is my guide to Musician Rights:

https://www.harpsichord-hotsauce.com/.../classical...

Here is my bio:

https://www.focalembouchuredystonia.com/about

Here is my defense fund for musicians facing harassment and discrimination:

https://www.gofundme.com/.../courage-over-silence-legal... "

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Bob Ashworth (from the group "Horn People"): "Katie A. Berglof Hello, just chipping in here. I agree with the above post about screens which hopefully would take away the bias you are talking about. But then you come to other sets of bias - tempo of a certain piece (is it to the judges’ taste?). Likewise re sound - full, lean, clean, fuzzy - what are the judges’ preferences or bias? Of course, we don’t know what data would show if everything was behind a screen. But surely, another thing comes into the equation too - that of performance in front of people - whether it inspires you or intimidates you - it’s all part of the mix. In the end, I suppose one has to accept that there is no perfect way to accomplish ‘fairness’ - we can only do our best by being honest and human and respectful. Best wishes." My reply: "Bob, I appreciate you stepping into this conversation — and I want to respond directly, from both lived experience and professional expertise (since apparently I have to provide my credentials now in order to have the right to speak about gender discrimination --- see Rusty Holmes comments).

I speak from a background not only in music, but in HR, union representation, and DEI certification. I have training and experience in how institutional discrimination and bias functions — not just in policy, but in practice. And one of the most reliable ways it avoids accountability is through language like this:

“I suppose one has to accept that there is no perfect way to accomplish fairness — we can only do our best by being honest and human and respectful.”

That framing may sound reasonable, even kind — but it’s a rhetorical sleight of hand. It shifts the focus from structural reform to personal virtue. It implies that fairness is a philosophical ideal, not a practical responsibility.

And it subtly minimizes the urgency of what’s being raised: not the elimination of all subjectivity, but the unexamined bias embedded in our most “traditional” musical values.

Let’s be clear: women are not asking for perfection. We’re asking for integrity.

Yes, evaluating tone, phrasing, and interpretation is part of the artistic process — but pretending that those preferences are somehow neutral erases the history that shaped them.

In classical music, aesthetic standards have been largely defined by white, male, Western traditions — and passed down through tight-knit networks of legacy and power. Those standards are not universal. They are curated. And they continue to reward players who reflect that legacy.

When a woman’s assertive playing is called “abrasive” while a man’s is called “bold”…

When male students are praised for risk-taking while women are warned to “play it safe”…

When repertoire is 95% male and panels overwhelmingly favor those within their personal or professional circles…

That’s not just bias. That’s discrimination reinforced through tradition, repackaged as "taste."

The suggestion that fairness comes from being “honest and respectful” implies that if marginalized musicians simply show up with good intentions, equity will follow.

But we have shown up — with grace, with over-preparation, with double the burden of proving we belong.

And still, we’ve watched former students of jury members win blind auditions. We’ve seen substitutes quietly grandfathered in and handed jobs without fair opportunity given to others. We’ve seen all-male sections built under the radar of supposedly objective systems.

Respectability is not a solution. And humility doesn’t dismantle structural inequity — policy does.

So no, I don’t accept that fairness is unreachable. Fairness is not a fixed endpoint — it’s a standard we must relentlessly pursue.

That means increasing transparency in adjudication. Diversifying panels. Creating accountability around who selects repertoire and defines “excellence.” And being honest about which voices have long been excluded from shaping those definitions.

Do not mistake this as attacking the art form — it’s about evolving it. Because if we truly care about artistic excellence, then we must care just as much about who has access to it, and under what conditions.

Otherwise, the outcome isn't merit — it’s inheritance dressed up as objectivity."

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Short Bio on Austin Larson

Austin Larson is Principal Horn of the Singapore Symphony Orchestra and a frequent guest with major ensembles including the Philadelphia Orchestra, Pittsburgh Symphony, and Royal Philharmonic. Prior to his move to Singapore, he held full-time positions with the Cincinnati, Baltimore, and Colorado Symphonies, and has served as Guest Principal with orchestras across Asia, Europe, and the Americas. A Curtis Institute of Music and University of Cincinnati graduate, Austin has studied with many of the horn world’s most respected pedagogues. An award-winning soloist, Austin has earned top prizes in numerous international competitions, including the International Horn Competition of America and contests in Poland, South Korea, and Italy. He has appeared as a featured soloist across the U.S., Europe, and Asia, and is also a dedicated advocate for music education and community outreach—having taught in the Baltimore Symphony’s OrchKids program and supported scholarship and relief efforts for young musicians.

Austin Larson's Commentary on Froydis Post:

"I’m hesitant to chime in seeing how charged this has become but I think using screens in competitions is an overdue consideration. We all have biases, some more explicit than others. I’ve done enough competitions and auditions to see many tainted by it. Whether it’s sexism, racism, nationalism, favouritism, etc. screening could help minimise the negative impact of biases just like it has in auditions, make strategic voting more unlikely, and make competitions more fair. For example having only the jury behind a screen would allow contestants to still play for an audience and even if the last round with orchestra is without a screen if the competition result is decided by cumulative scores from all rounds that would go a long way towards eliminating a lot of the problems many of us have raised here."

Below is what I wrote to Austin Larson on the topic of blind competitions and auditions. It’s often brought up when discussing ways to create more equality for those whom are marginalized. However, it’s important to address what happens behind the screen too to fully understand how deeply rooted gender discrimination is. I hope these conversations help others to understand more. My Response to Austin Larson:

“Austin Larson, I want to say how much I really appreciate you chiming in — especially given how tense the discussion may feel. It’s essential that more men in positions of influence step into these conversations with the kind of humility you’ve shown here.

The use of curtains in orchestral auditions helped shift the playing field more than most people realize — and introducing similar measures in competitions would absolutely help reduce the influence of explicit and unconscious biases: sexism, racism, nationalism, favoritism, and more.

However, I also want to push the conversation a bit further. I noticed the word discrimination wasn’t mentioned, which might be a reflection of how charged this space has become. But I do think it’s crucial to name that what many women and marginalized musicians face simply “bias” — it’s structural and cultural discrimination that shapes outcomes long before anyone plays a note.

Even with screens, there are still major barriers:

•Pre-competition coaching and gatekeeping —Many women are overly coached to sound like their male counterparts in order to be “competition-ready.” That shaping starts early.

•Repertoire bias – Required pieces in competitions are overwhelmingly composed by men, reinforcing a narrow idea of what “serious” music is and who it’s meant to represent.

•Gendered performance expectations – Men are often praised for assertiveness, while women playing the same way are called “shrill” or “harsh.” This deeply affects how judges assess tone, phrasing, and risk-taking.

•Panel dynamics – Even in mixed panels outside of music, research shows that men’s voices dominate discussion unless there is intentional structure to distribute influence. I do not doubt the same with audition panels.

•Networking and favoritism – Many competitions are won not only on merit, but through informal connections, introductions, or previous exposure — networks where women and non-male players have historically been underrepresented or excluded.

All of this can be said about racial inequality in competitions and auditions too.

As you wisely pointed out, even cumulative scoring isn’t a full fix. There needs to be transparency in how votes are weighted, who sits on juries, and how decisions are justified — because ambiguity protects the powerful, not the vulnerable.

I helped proctor five auditions at the Seattle Symphony the past two years, and even though it was fully blind, every person that won was the sections long-term substitute. I had a conversation with one of them that won before they went on stage to audition asking if they were nervous. They said no, because the principal of the section will likely know his sound by ear. I felt like I was watching musicians being secretly grandfathered in despite their being blind auditions after the 4th time it happened.

Also I often like to note that Bill VerMeulen, who is a sexual predator has an all male section in the Houston Symphony consisting of all former students.

I also encourage others to read some of the comments shared by Kate Caliendo (also a former student of VerMeulen and one who helps advocate along with hundreds of others to petition his removal from the orchestra), a phenomenal horn player who speaks with rare honesty about what many of us have experienced. Her words add crucial dimension to this conversation, especially regarding the emotional and professional toll of always having to be “exceptional” just to be taken seriously.

Women shouldn’t feel like they need to be indoctrinated into an old boys club to be favored. But we do since politics dominate our field and uphold these subtle forms of discrimination that bleed throughout everything.

With all that said, thank you for showing up here with thoughtfulness and respect. It means a lot. I hope you continue to speak out about ways competitions and auditions can be more fair and inclusive towards us marginalized. These conversations only move forward when influential musicians like you are willing to ask what else we can do.”

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Short Bio on James Sommerville

James Sommerville is a renowned Canadian hornist and conductor, best known for his tenure as Principal Horn of the Boston Symphony Orchestra from 1998 until his retirement in 2022. He previously held major positions with the Montreal Symphony, Chamber Orchestra of Europe, Toronto Symphony, and Canadian Opera Company, and served as Music Director of the Hamilton Philharmonic Orchestra from 2007 to 2015. An internationally respected soloist and chamber musician, Sommerville has recorded with top labels including Deutsche Grammophon and Decca, and premiered Elliott Carter’s Horn Concerto with the BSO in 2007. He teaches at the New England Conservatory and Longy School of Music.

James Sommerville's Commentary on my "Letter to Frøydis Followers" in the private group Horn People:

JS: "Can you post the data in which Katherine N basis her arguments?" Me: "Hi James Sommerville, appreciate you asking — but I think it’s important to clarify what this question implies.

When someone raises a concern about systemic exclusion, especially one that’s been widely observed over decades, asking them to “post the data” can sometimes function more as a deflection than an honest starting point for change.

This isn’t a sudden accusation—it’s the result of long-standing, visible trends. Look at the winners of major European and international competitions over the last 20–30 years in brass and winds. The pattern is persistent and disproportionate. No one needs to fabricate a data set to see it.

What Katherine (and others) are pointing to isn’t hidden—it’s just long ignored.

The issue isn’t about proving a single act of bias; it’s about asking why, year after year, we see overwhelmingly male outcomes in spaces where the training pool includes just as many talented women.

So the better question might be:

What data have competitions and institutions used to ensure that their outcomes aren’t being shaped by bias?

And if they haven’t asked that question—why not?

Thanks for being part of this conversation. It’s an important one. JS: "I'm not disagreeing with the argument. But "long-standing, visible trends" and "persistent and disproportionate" patterns are, in fact, data. And to claim them without documentation is as anecdotal as Froydis is accused of being."

Me: "Hi James Sommerville, thank you again for engaging so thoughtfully. You're right that patterns and trends are a form of data—and I fully agree that documentation, when available, strengthens the case for systemic critique. The issue is that in classical music, especially in competitions, meaningful transparency is rare.

Institutions rarely release jury demographics, voting records, or applicant data, which means much of the evidence we have is pattern-based, reported by individuals, and drawn from consistent outcomes over years.

That said, there is still plenty of verifiable public data that reflects the disparities:

World Federation of International Music Competitions (WFIMC) reports that only 3 of 20 major piano competitions were won by women—and 8 of those competitions had all-male finalist lists.

At the Leeds International Piano Competition, men won 82% of the most recent 40 competitions, and more than a third had all-male finals.

The Donne Foundation (2024) found that only 7.5% of programmed works globally were composed by women—while 78.4% were by white men.

On the oboe-specific data:

No woman has ever won first prize in oboe at either Geneva or ARD—arguably the most prestigious European competitions for the instrument.

Yes, Diana Doherty won Prague in 1990, but she’s a once-in-a-generation talent—and even then, her career was eclipsed by male soloists. That fact alone illustrates how systemic preference, not talent alone, shapes outcomes.

And just to clarify an important point:

When Froydis paraphrased Katherine as saying “all competitions are rigged,” she misrepresented the original statement.

On May 11th, Katherine Needleman made a public post about the Prague Spring International Music Competition, pointing out that:

"6 of the 12 semi-finalists were women,

only 2 of 7 jurors were women,

and 0 of the 12 required pieces were by women composers—even in 2025."

When someone in the comments named Guido Ghetti sarcastically asked if she was saying the competition was rigged, Katherine replied:

“I think most contests are rigged.”

This was a candid answer to a pointed question—not a blanket claim that every competition is corrupt. She went on to explain that the gender imbalance in winners at Geneva and ARD, combined with structural imbalances in repertoire and jury representation, reflects a long-standing bias—not a conspiracy, but a skewed system.

That distinction matters. And reducing that nuanced concern to “she says all competitions are rigged” undercuts a much deeper, necessary conversation.

And lastly, a sincere question I hope you’ll consider:

As someone in a highly visible and influential role in classical music, what steps have you personally taken to help address gender inequity in brass and in the broader orchestral world?

Have you:

Pushed for transparency in auditions or competitions?

Advocated for diverse juries?

Supported or mentored women brass players navigating these systems?

Spoken up when patterns of exclusion became visible?

These aren’t meant to be rhetorical questions—they’re the ones that matter most in conversations about gender equality. Because the burden of naming inequity shouldn’t fall solely on those affected by it. It’s also the responsibility of those in positions of power to challenge the system they help uphold.

Myself, being a latino woman raised in North Dakota through adoption and growing up with the only access to classical music being watching the Boston Pops & Boston Symphony on PBS...you were a huge reason I got into horn playing...hearing you on the TV screen, even though I didn't know what a french horn was.

But also, as I got older and got more involved in competitions and auditions during college, I realized I was the only person of color in all of the horn sections I sat in, as well as one of few women. I recognized how the farther up you go, the less representation there is.

Thanks again for being part of this discussion. Honest dialogue like this moves us forward." JS: "Thanks for all this! I didn't have access to the o.p., nor to much of this information. This is worthwhile work you are doing. I think it's fair to say that over the course of my own career (over the past 40 years), the gender balance of North American orchestra brass sections has improved. But there's a long way to go yet."

Rebekah Daley: "James Sommerville We could talk about competitions, but perhaps you could provide some data. What if we divide it white men and everyone else. In the BSO horn section, how do these numbers stack up? In the brass section at large? What is the make up of an average brass audition?

What was the makeup of your teaching studio 10, 15, 20, 25 years ago? Do the current numbers seem reflective of the teaching studio 20 years ago?

If the patterns of abuse and exclusion in our industry are anecdotal to you, then you have benefited from a system that has harmed others." Kate Caliendo (comment on my post): "When I sat next to Mr. Sommerville as Principal horn of the Tanglewood Music Center BSO side by side performance, the ONLY comment he ever made to me was that my nail polish matched my horn." Katherine Needleman: "James Sommerville Please allow me to provide you the posts which Frøydis Ree Wekre used as the basis for her post. She indicates that the first one here is the one she was quoting, however, she rather wildly misquoted me, both with wrong words and context, refused to fix it for quite awhile, and now says I am "simply lying" about the misquote now that she has mostly fixed it. (You can view her edits for yourself.)

I am heartened to hear you say there is "a long way to go yet." Your own BSO has just one woman in the entire brass section. You may feel that this is improvement, and I suppose maybe that is something, but in my view it is so very, very little and there is so very much work to do. I tend to feel more urgency than most men in orchestras. This is the post Frøydis finally said she was "quoting," but she wasn't: https://katherineneedlemanoboist.substack.com/.../dear...

And the follow up:

https://katherineneedlemanoboist.substack.com/.../dear...

And the previous post, about the same competition and my response to Lorenzo Masala's inappropriate commentary; where I address the trope of "it's so much better now than X number of years ago--you can replace 30 here with your 40:

https://katherineneedlemanoboist.substack.com/.../dear...

Regards from Baltimore, Katherine."

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