
The first time I considered relationships between sexuality and music composition, I wasn’t entirely convinced. Sure, there were some more contemporary relationships between music and sexuality that were more obvious to me. Musical theater featuring queer characters, or more contemporary artists who established themselves as prominent figures of the LGBTQ+ community seemed to hold more obvious connections to their sexuality in their works than Francis Poulenc or Erik Satie.
Musicologist Marcia Citron, in her writing about gender and music, says that she operates under the assumption that:
“music, like its sister art forms, grows out of a specific social context. It expresses in various ways fundamental assumptions about the culture in which it originates. Aesthetically, music entails communication, and this can take place at many levels in varied combinations of work, composer, performer, and receptor.”[1]
While not the scholarship of focus for this post, I think this is an important source to bring into our conversation about queer readings of classical music. As I read Dorf and Moore’s writings, I kept Citron’s ideas in mind in hopes of making more sense of the queer readings of the works they are analyzing.
Moore claims the success of Poulenc’s of ballets is, in part, indebted to strategies of “discretion and dissimulation.”[2] Through the stylish emergence of ‘camp’, Poulenc was able to express his sexuality in circumstances that would have otherwise been challenging or even dangerous. Moore’s exploration of Poulenc’s ballets through a ‘camp’ filter is convincing to me for two main reasons. Firstly, he addresses the evident social tension that open homosexuality created in Paris at the time although it was legal. In addressing this tension, Moore is able to explain how camp functions as a veil that shields the ballet’s consumers from many references that may have otherwise been a direct display of homosexuality.[3] I am ultimately confident in the justifications that Moore provides because he socially contextualizes his argument through sources immediately outside of music scholarship and provides ample, primary source evidence from the letters and writings of Poulenc.

Dorf’s argument leaves me less convinced. The Princesse de Polignac commissioned a work from Erik Satie, Socrate, to accompany her readings of the Ancient Greek philosopher, Socrates. Dorf mainly claims that Satie and Polignac both concealed their sexualities from the public eye but argues for subtle allusions to queerness throughout Socrate. An important detail that Dorf mentions about the commission is that the Princesse de Polignac was:
“Determined to bring something new and special to her salon, the Princesse looked for a composer who was not only modern but also decidedly anti-Wagnerian, someone who would fit her newly fashioned, proto-modernist, proto-neoclassical aesthetic.”[4]
While Dorf provides evidence in support of subtle queerness throughout Socrate, this point stuck with me. It makes me consider if a pro-modernist, socially progressive reading of the Princesse’s commission would be a more convincing reading of Socrate. Just as Dorf argues for an implicit queerness as a motivation for Satie’s uncharacteristic writing of Socrate, I think one could just as easily argue that Socrate’s uncharacteristic sound results from legalities the Princesse took to commission the piece and her desire to commission something in line with her social values.
Many queer readings of music are convincing, but I am still left with questions about the composer’s intent. At times, I feel that Dorf and Moore’s arguments are entirely validated. As Citron said, music often comes from a ‘specific social context’; however, is sexuality the primary context? Is there some other, more convincing context that dominates the construction of a composition? Of course, these are rhetorical questions that really have no correct answer. They lack answers because only the composer and those intimately involved with the composition could provide further context surrounding the true intentions of the piece.
As I conclude with questions regarding the composer’s intent, I wanted to leave you with some food for thought. The New York Times addresses one perspective on composer’s intent which could be entirely relevant to any scholarship we read. Just as many consider the composers intent in performance of their works, I think we have to consider whether or not the composers intent matters when analyzing music through a lens of sexuality or any other social perspective.
[1] Citron, Marcia J. Gender and the Musical Canon. Urbana: Univ. of Illinois Press, 2000.
[2] Moore, Christopher. “Camp in Francis Poulencs Early Ballets.” The Musical Quarterly 95, no. 2-3 (2012): 299–342.
[3] Ibid, 303.
[4] Dorf, Samuel N. “‘Étrange n’est-ce pas?’: The Princesse Edmond De Polignac, Erik Satie’s Socrate, and a Lesbian Aesthetic of Music?” Queer Sexualities in French and Francophone Literature and Film, January 2007, 88–99.