Imagine two musicians. Both are extraordinary. Both have built something remarkable — a career as principal violin, a festival running for a decade, an ensemble that has toured internationally. One of them has a website that puts their face front and centre. Their bio reads like a confident manifesto. They post their reviews. They claim their work, loudly and without apology.
The other musician — and you may recognise her — keeps a tidy, modest website. Mostly repertoire and dates, some reviews. The bio reads like a CV. The photos are small, or not quite up to date. The festival she founded? Her name is somewhere buried in the About page.
The second musician is often a woman.
I have worked in and around the classical music world for many years now — in arts sponsorship, project management, touring, branding. And the pattern is so consistent it has stopped surprising me, though it never stops bothering me: talented, high-achieving women in this industry routinely under-represent themselves online and in their professional communications. Not out of laziness or ignorance. I think it is something more complicated than that, and well know to most of us.
"It feels a bit like showing off. ... My work should speak for itself. ... I don't want to come across as self-promotional. ..."
The imposter monster rears its ugly head!
And there is one more thing — one that rarely gets named, but that almost every freelance musician will recognise. This is a small world. The same conductors, the same fixers, the same collegues, season after season. Your livelihood depends not just on how well you play, but on being easy to work with, undemanding, grateful. Putting yourself forward — really forward, with confidence and without apology — can feel like a disruption to a very delicate ecosystem. So you don't, because in this context, visibility feels like a risk, and might ruffle some feathers. It is an entirely rational response to a real constraint. It is also, quietly, a trap.
What modesty looks like from the outside
When a male conductor posts about a new appointment, his network congratulates him. The post travels and the name sticks. When a female leader does the same thing — if she does it at all — she often qualifies it, credits everyone around her, and uses language that suggests she may not entirely deserve the fuss (there a obvioulsy execptions to the rules, but this happens more often that not.).
This is definitiely not an attack critic of humility (I actually think we need more of it, but that's a subject for another letter.) But there is a difference between humility and invisibility.
And in a freelance economy, invisibility has consequences.
Bookers and promoters search online. Funders research who they're supporting. New audiences get to know artists through a website, a newsletter or a social post.
I have worked with women who lead orchestras and do not have a solo webpage, women who have founded cultural institutions and whose biographies read as though they happened to be nearby when things developed, and women who are the musical and organisational engine of an ensemble whose public face is a male colleague with a better-maintained website or social media platform.
None of this is their fault. All of it is fixable.
The Case for Owning Your Professional Narrative
This is, I believe, a structural feature of a historically male-dominated industry that is changing more slowly in its culture than in its stated values. Many organisations have done genuine work on representation in programming, on gender balance in appointments, on the language of job adverts. But the internal voice of many accomplished women still carries the old message: shrink a little, wait to be recognised, let the work do the talking. So I want you to know that:
Your brand is not vanity. It is the infrastructure that connects your work to the people who need to find it.
So, what does personal branding actually means in this context?
"Personal branding" is a phrase that makes some musicians cringe — and reasonably so. It conjures images of LinkedIn hustle and curated authenticity. But this is not what I mean.
What I am talking about is clarity. It is about defining what you do, why it matters, and being able to say it simply and without apology. (Give it a go and describe what you do and stand for in a couple of sentences - your tagline if you will.) Your bio should read as ifyou wrote it about someone you deeply respect, and genuinley like. Your website should showcase your accomplishments openly and reflect your thinking and approach, so people feel they already know you a little before you even meet.
This is not about self-promotion, it is about professional communication. And too oftne, these acts of clarity and confidence are disproportionately missing from the profiles of talented women in this industry.
There are a few things worth saying out loud
You are allowed to put your name on the festival you built, not just in the small print, and to say "I lead this ensemble", rather than "I am fortunate to be part of this incredible group of musicians."
You are allowed to have professional photographs taken, in which you appear to be someone worth taking seriously — because you are.
You are allowed to write a bio in the third person that describes your achievements the way a PR Manager would describe them, without sidestepping, without the qualifications, without the implicit apology.
You do not have to wait until you feel ready. The feeling of readiness, for most of us, comes after the action, not before.
Where to begin
If any of this has resonated, the first step is usually the simplest and the hardest: audit what you currently present to the world, google yourself and read your bio as though you are a promoter or booking agent who has never met you. Look at your website the way a first-time visitor would. Ask yourself: does this represent who I actually am and what I have actually done, and want to do?
If the answer is no — or even "not quite" — then that is not a sign of failure but a starting point. And it is, in my experience, a very energising pieces of work a musician can do for their career.