If there was ever a diva engulfed in near-mythological passions and controversies, it is surely Maria Callas. Hailed from early on in her career as "La Divina," she became one of the greatest names ever in the world of opera. The career, however, was surrounded by controversy from the very beginning. To this day, over thirty years after her death, she has both dedicated admirers and near-rabid detractors. I frankly admit to being an admirer, and while I understand that anyone as intense and passionate (and uncompromising) as she was is bound to attract intense opposition from some quarters, I still find the way she was treated by back-biting gossipers and the popular press to have been unfair and scandalous.
Maria Callas was born in New York, in 1923, into an unhappy family, with a mother who, by Maria's own account, seems to have been a character penned by Christina Crawford. "Stage Mother" doesn't come close. So intense were the dark passions surrounding Maria from birth that she seems, like Gaia, to have been born the daughter of chaos. Her parents moved back to Greece when Maria was still a child, and she received her earliest education there. Later, as a young woman, she would make her initial career in Italy.
She had been forced into public singing as a child by her mother, so that Maria and the stage were intimates almost from birth. It was not at first a happy relationship. She resented never having had a childhood, and hated singing. She was a fat and unattractive child and felt that she was unloved and pushed into situations against her will. This unpleasant family situation was exacerbated by the war, and her family knew poverty and fear. In many ways, Callas' life reminds me of that of another fiery diva, Galina Vishnevskaya, who likewise suffered a dreadful youth, and was often criticized for being "difficult." War takes no prisoners. There is no shortage of information on the web about Callas' life, and it may be easily consulted there. The Wikipedia article on her is especially good—both scholarly and detailed.
As she grew, Maria came to see in the theater an excellent outlet for her frustrations, and she began to work very hard, both on her voice and on the artistic aspects of singing and acting. She was to become a powerful actress and absolute master of style, especially the grand style of tragedy. A good example of the intensely passionate—and totally convincing—power of her characterizations can be seen in the aria "La Mamma Morta," from Giordano's Andrea Chénier. This is the kind of music in which Callas excelled. We hear in this recording the brilliant marriage of word and music that was so typical of Callas and so noteworthy:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5oZi2fovnZQ&feature=related
The only words that come to my mind are "Mediterrean Fire." In many ways, Callas was the ultimate singing actress, and in that fact lies the heart of the controversy. Her voice was not always beautiful...nor did she think it had to be. After all, some of the things she is saying are not beautiful...they are terrible. Her voice always tended to reflect—accurately—the emotions she was portraying. The papers and the fans started a gossipy rumor at one point that she was involved in a deadly feud with Renata Tebaldi, who had one of the smoothest, most beautiful voices ever; but that was another myth. They actually respected each other. The feud was certainly about the beautiful versus the sometimes not so beautiful voice. There are fans who believe that a woman should always sing beautifully, with round, covered, lush tones. A great tragedian and actress might not agree. That was the argument.
There is something else. From the early days of her career, Callas drew down upon herself the bitter jealousy and ridicule of other singers, sopranos especially. While this is not uncommon, in her case it was extreme...even to the point (in the early days) of hissing off stage and trying to distract her. I think I know why. It is because Callas places great demands on her listeners, primarily to the extent she defines and totally takes control of the character she is portraying. What this amounts to, in the eyes of those who might also like to sing the part, is that Callas has stolen the character from them. She has run off, as it were, with Violetta, Tosca, or Elvira. And that is, to other aspirants, unforgivable. Most sopranos just play the character; Callas claims the character's very soul.
Here is the maestra singing "Vissi d'Arte," this time in a filmed scene which will show her magnetic and powerful acting:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7g21UHxcasc
It is incredibly moving. Again, utter conviction and the characteristic marriage of word and phrase to music. It is hard to imagine it more convincingly portrayed. The voice itself, as I suggested, was not always beautiful. There can be a sharp edge to it at times. Part of this is the fact that she is at core a mezzo-soprano who by force of will built a top to her voice. Some feel that a huge weight loss in mid-career hurt the voice. Also, she sang an unbelievable variety of roles, ranging from Wagner to Bellini. That can put a strain on even the greatest natural apparatus. Whatever the cause, the result is that there is not always an easy blend between the rich and deep bottom of the voice, which can be contralto-like, and the high top, which can seem thin and sometimes a bit shrill by comparison.
But that, to me at least, is a matter of small concern. The voice always served her dramatic and stylistic intentions, and her fiery and passionate personality, coupled with a magnificent musicality, gave an utterly convincing reality to the greatest heights of tragedy and pathos that even opera is capable of demanding. One in a million. She will always be "La Divina."
25 comments:
Edmund, I agree with just about everything you say about Callas' voice and singing, and commend your succinct yet thorough account of her early hardships and the mistreatment she had to endure during her career (in a sense, the inverse of the life and career of Adelina Patti). Not only were there manufactured feuds between Callas and Tebaldi, but also between her and Sutherland, according to Sutherland's autobiography. I too am an admirer of Callas' singing and, though I find her voice can be quite beautiful at times and her technique superb, freely acknowledge that she is often shrill in the high register and her technique is not perfect (lack of seamless registers and the like). On the other hand, I also agree she has both great musicianship and instinctive musicality to spare, and the passionate intensity she displays in the tragic roles is truly incredible. Your emphasis on her ability to integrate music and text is spot on: one would think this capacity part of every singer's arsenal; but unfortunately it is a rare gift. Not only clear diction (most of the time) but meaningful utterance and phrasing combined with a splendid variety of tonal colors is, I believe, the principal key to understanding Callas' grand stature in the opera world. She has become both a singer's singer and accessible to the general public. Whatever personal insecurities she may have had, she also had the courage and fortitude to rise above them and fashion a career her own way despite the obstacles. In so doing, she changed the course of operatic performance, both musically and theatrically, as we know it today.
Beautiful comment, Nate. Thank you very much. I think we are 100% together on this magnificent artist. Yes, indeed, "meaningful utterance and phrasing combined with a splendid variety of tonal colors..." I don't know that I have ever heard it said better, any place, any time. Bravo! And thank you again!
Edmund, thanks for your straightforward and moving appreciation of Maria Callas. Your summary touches on all the important issues and your tone is wise and measured (quite an achievement when dealing with “La Divina.”) And the selections you treat us to are excellent and capture her at her best (or very near best). The reason I say this is that while we hear it said of many artists that available recordings don’t truly reflect a particular singer at his or her prime, I think the argument can be made that this is especially true of Maria Callas. In so many ways she was at her peak in the late 1940’s when she was building her career in Italy and some of her most sensational performances were never recorded. I would offer support for this notion by referring to a remarkable 1952 recording of Verdi’s Macbeth. In this brave attempt to restore a still very poor and scratchy recording, I believe we find a performance in which her singing and acting are both in her total control. It is stunning, amazing. While critics at the time acclaimed her by saying the role was “tailor-made” for Callas, some still complained of an intensity that did not strike them as “beautiful singing.” Verdi himself said of Lady Macbeth (here I am referring to the liner-notes) that beautiful singing was the last thing he wanted for a character of such evil and moral ugliness. Instead what was required was “a harsh, choked, dark voice” with “something devilish” about it. Even in Callas’ speaking voice, as when she reads Macbeth’s letter to her right after his first encounter with the witches, and when in their duet upon his return, she senses his shaky nerves, she does truly inhabit this role. It is chilling. In analyzing Shakespeare’s play, Harold Bloom refers to Macbeth as really being the story of “Mr. and Mrs. Macbeth.” In her portrayal (and we can only hear it, of course), there is an unmistakable sense of how a married couple (even a fiendish one) communicate with each other through what is said and also what is left unsaid. Yikes!
For myself, the legendary Tosca recording of 1953 (with Gobbi and Di Stefano) is the best recording we have of Callas closest to her prime. But I would add that her 1961 Norma has to be my sentimental favorite (with Franco Corelli and Christa Ludwig in peak form). As has been noted by others, Callas came to depend upon her dramatic skills to conceal some of her vocal growing limitations. That is evident in this recording; and yet it is still a great achievement. She never seems to rely on strange vocal mannerisms, but whatever she does seems convincing. And how many Normas have succeeded in making such a dramatically static opera so powerfully moving? You mention Bellini as a composer whose music she was secure with. I would only add that I believe that she deserves credit for leading the Bel Canto revival nearly single-handedly from the beginning, though others (like Sutherland) were ready to claim that honor.
I say! The amount of musical erudition flowing into the comments section is a bit intimidating! I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is personally to be able to read these comments. This is what I hoped for when I started the blog last March. I felt there was a definite need for some kind of forum for intelligent and refined discussion of great artists. I could not be happier with the result! We have many more readers than we know. I am getting email from all over the world suddenly, and most of it (excepting the stage moms pushing their kids:)is of very high quality. I heartily agree with your assessment, and I especially took note of your last sentence, because you raise something that I regret I neglectd to include, and that is the fact that Maria Callas was trained in the bel canto school of singing, and a big part of her repertoire was in fact the bel canto operas. Tebaldi, on the other hand, was verismo-trained. And, I would add, much as I love Tebaldi, that her voice really took a hit toward the end. Both these women were extraordinary artists, and gave their all. That often has an effect on the voice. I think that if either were starting out today, they would select their repertoire carefully. That is much more the practice today, even to the extent--as I indicated in the piece on Jaroussky--that Cecilia Bartoli has pretty much opted for a career as concert singer specializing in Baroque literature. That is a radical departure for a talent like hers. So yes, stunning comment all the way around, JING, as was Nate's, and an excellent point about her role in the Bel Canto revival. Many thanks!
A very profound article, Sir Edmund. There were lots of articles and books written on her, but you have expressed the most important things. Callas is one of my favorite singers, but I can’t listen to her recordings frequently, especially the tragic roles , because the emotional effect of her singing is too serious. There is tragedy even in her timbre.
I found a brilliant interview, in which Callas talks about her approach to her roles:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yM78P3wtqII
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6cpdN5pjV8&NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QP0ikH5vcUE&NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vU_G0cv9CA0&NR=1
The most interesting thing about this interview is that some thoughts resemble very much those of Stanislavsky and Chaliapin. She quoted Tullio Serafin, who had said that every gesture of the character can be found in the music – Stanislavsky said exactly the same. “I have two minds” ( two points of view – the first is of the singer, another one is of the audience member) – sounds like a quote from Chaliapin. There are many other similar things. Perhaps it is the “truth” about opera that every great musicians and actor knows.
She could have been a director or a producer. It is sad that she didn’t tried herself in directing.
n.a.
Thank you very much for your invariably cogent and informative contribution. I especially appreciate the links to the Callas interview. You put your finger on the most important aspects of the Great Callas--she was a great musician and great actress. The comparison with Stanislavsky is excellent. Callas was in many ways far ahead of her time. She really did "get it" as far as drama is concerned. Even though I was surprised to see you refer to the painful emotion that her singing can produce, I in fact feel the same way and have had the same experience. I find the "Vissi d'arte," for exmple, almost unbearable, especially against the cold, arrogant, heartless villany of Scarpia. It really does make one want to cry. What an actress! What a tragedian! Thank you again.
I cannot say that it is painful - cathartic, most likely. But anyway, it’s hard to listen frequently to such intense performances. And I think it’s good , because I get fresh and strong impression every time.
I was surprised very much , when I heard her words, which were almost a quote from Stanislavsky. Besides, I’m sure that she didn’t read his books. Her attention to words, declamation , speaking her role – Stanislavsky taught all this in his operatic studio and he took it from Chaliapin. Lemeshev, who was a great master of declamation too and Stanislavsky’s pupil, wrote that he learnt to make people react not to the notes, but to the lines. She did the same.
I liked very much what she said about dignity and beauty that performers must bring into opera. Modern directors often do the opposite. I imagined that Callas could have been a good director, if she overcame her personal tragedies and learnt to work with people. She was a great director to herself.
n.a.
Yes, "cathartic" is the word! And of course, catharsis is an essential ingredient of classical tragedy. I always think of her as being something like the great heroines and tragic characters of ancient Greek theater: she always had that grand and fatal sense about her. I was unaware of the degree to which her ideas conformed to such a degree with those of Stanislavsky. That is fascinating and very suggestive indeed! Thank you again!
sir edmund, just as la callas is the ne plus ultra of divas, so GREAT OPERA SINGERS is the ne plus ultra of opera blogs. it is hard to imagine a steeper challenge than this latest entry; but you have met it gorgeously. thank you for another splendid essay -- your nose for the essential is unerring.
Why, thank you very much! That is very kind of you indeed, but it is the quality of the readership and the inspirational quality of truly great artists, such as the nonpareil La Divina, to which the modest blog is indebted, and to which all credit should go. It is such a joy to participate even momentiarily and vicariously in the lives of those who paid the price in order to be a source of happiness and excitement for generations of opera lovers; and there *is* a price to be paid, largely the undying wrath and envy of those who not only do not appreciate, but do not even comprehend the greatness of an artistic miracle like Maria Callas, who, some may be interested to know, is still, thirty-odd years after her death, the largest selling opera singer in the world, through her many recordings. Thank you again--the praise of so discriminating and well informed a person as yourself is a real lift!
Another excellent article. Thank You. You were right, though, when you added in the later comments that it is important to note Callas' contribution to the Bel Canto revival. Her's was a "grande voccacca" (sp? it sounds like "grande vo-cha-cha"), "a big ugly voice", in the words of Tulio Serafin, which made it all that much more unusual that she was able to do the coloratura work which was unusual in her day. Today, we are much more accustomed to singers who can demonstrate this agility (after the careers of Sutherland, Caballe and a number of others, leading up to today's renewed performances of such florid 18th century works as those of Handel), but the coloratura sopranos immediately prior to Callas' day were of the Lily Pons variety (and what little tact I have keeps me from describing that). Callas was a phenomenon.
Also, though passing mention is made of Callas' unparalleled musicianship and "style", and that she was a "singer's singer" who at first made her career based on her technical ability as a singer, I feel that it is necessary to say something about portamento. I believe that many people who cannot technically analyze a singer, in musical terms, nonetheless will recognize that Callas was simply better; they can't say why, but they know she sang it better. I believe it has a lot to do with the legato line -the way the notes are strung together, without gaps between tones. How do you get from one note to the next without sliding or scooping your way through the intervening tones? It ain 't easy. Joan Sutherland was able to do phenomenal work in this regard, while often concentrating on making the tone as beautiful and round as possible (maybe at the expense of her diction?). I think that the "lowered larynx" technique we've discussed (Giacomini, Corelli) can almost accidentally help these singers with their legato, but with Callas it was just about as perfect as any singer could ever be. "Like Pablo Casals playing the cello". Well, maybe that's not the best example, but once you know about legato and portamento and can listen closely for them, Callas' singing becomes even more of a miracle. "La Divina" - Forever.
p.s. Also, I wish I could upload a picture of Callas, for you. Not one of those rare old "fat girl" pictures, or even a stage costume with dramatic make up. I'd choose a picture of Callas, after Meneghini had her remade or dressed by Madame Biki. Callas was elegance, she was Paris - a fashion celebrity who could afford the best and appeared in all the tabloids, more often than just about anyone. She looked like she was spending Onassis' money, even though it was mostly just her own. Callas was slim and strikingly attractive for a much more significant period of her life that the few dumpy years when she was just starting her career, without financial resources. Callas had will power; she made her body, and her voice, do what she willed.
Sorry! I'm becoming too passionate.
Thank you very much indeed for a superb commentary! Your analysis of the importance of legato is spot-on!
You're no doubt correct in your choices to largely limit the discussion here to musical matters, but isn't the gossipy celebrity aspect of the singer's lives also a part of their star appeal? Somehow, isn't a great sound made even more important when one has in mind the star power of who is making that sound? Maybe it shouldn't be.
I was always a fan of Louisa Tetrazini, a great technique and a voice with star power. Then I read about her amorous demands. It's been said that many an entrepreneur who had booked Tetrazini for a sold out concert, was then chagrined to discover that Madame did not feel like singing -she didn't feel in love - "I need a man". Not expecting to have to work as a pimp, the entrepreneur was then faced with a box office disaster, or capitulation. I admit that knowing of this story has since detracted from my enjoyment of Tetrazini's singing, but there's still something to be said about the old days when opera stars traveled with train car loads of luggage and were the rock stars of their day. I have to admit that I enjoy Butterfly's entrance music, coming closer up that hill, all the more when there is a star - a big gun- behind that sound. Cheap thrills? Yes, I guess so, but still a thrill, nonetheless.
Beautifully said! And absolutely convincing!
Wonderful blog, Edmund. I found it quite by accident, through a Wagner blog which I found by accident, too. Serendipity! I find Callas such a tragic and, at the same time inspiring character. Another singer who would not compromise and gave her all to the music. If any singer lived for "her art" it was Callas. The interviews that Lord Harewood did with her (late 60's or early 70's, I think and on DVD) are fascinating. He was a huge admirer in the serious sense. In retrospect they are also poignant as she was not to live for much longer. For me she had probably the most instantly recognisable voice. Not always beautiful, but certainly never boring or colourless.
It's interesting to compare, or should I say contrast her with Sutherland. Not so much the singing career as the private life and what affect this can have on a career. Sutherland's stable private life, and her obviously less volatile temperament is the opposite to Callas' wreck of a private life.
Sorry I went on a bit but I don't feel qualified to make specific comments about vocal technique. I have my favourites, Callas being one and I agree with you or whoever wrote that not everything has to sound beautiful, especially if what is being sung isn't very nice!
An excellent comment, and I fixed especially on your sentence about the relatively stable life of Sutherland. That is a superb and not often made observation!
Lord Harewood did a series of interviews with Maria Callas? (And they're on DVD ?) I've been a Callas fan(atic) for so long, I thought I had nearly everything. (But of course, some rare "pirates" turn up.) I'm going to have to google this Lord Harewood thing. Thanks for the tip. I haven't had a Callas "fix" in a long time. Thanks
Oh yes. Sorry. I remember every word that Maria had to say in those interviews, and have sort of stewed over them for many years. Funny -I'd forgotten who the interviewer was.
I am thinking of a single soprano role written during the nineteenth century that troubled Callas — there is not a single one! Her technical ability was unsurpassed. I like to say that God put Tetrazzini and Nilsson (or Flagstad) into one soprano to create Callas!
However, I must wonder sometimes, about the early excesses she took in singing. The very famous Mexico City performances, for the example, with Kurt Baum in Aida. He sustained long B-flats, she responded with the high E-flat in the finale, they competed after that to hold any remotely high note for a long as possible. Then singing Trovatore, they competed to hold the D-flat at the end of the terzetto for the longest. Then Callas competed with del Monaco, again with the high E-flat in Aida. Fine for Baum, he was very comfortable in the acute register: the voice was naturally placed there. Maybe not so good for Callas. I remember Corelli saying after his retirements that the many interpolated acuti he made in his prime were probably mistakes. Maybe the same for Callas. As you indicate, the top was of a very different metallo to the contralto-like chest register. Such excursions, so high up, would surely cause some strain.
Of course, Callas' later illnesses did not help her vocalism either. But fortunately for us, as I always like to say: what existed of Callas was much, much more than what could have been!
Superb article Edmund! You are the Peerce of operatic commentators, never a single misstep in the hard texture.
Thank you very much, my friend. That is very kind of you! My secret is very simple...I just read everything you have written, and never forget any of it! My knowledge has increased amazingly of late:-)
As always, thanks for a brilliant comment; so informative and so much to the point!
Why does everyone avoid mentioning her occasional scooping...coming up to a note in pitch before reaching its exact place, as opposed to others who aspire to, and achieve, right-on placement every time.
Anyone agree?
No. It's sometimes hard to remember that Callas was initially famous as a technician. She taught everyone else about singing "in the center of the note", and about portamento. Maybe it's just poor microphones on the recording that's bothering you.
Sutherland was known more for her "scooping", but it was really just a result of her determination to never lose the legato. Sutherland was also known for her dead on accuracy in pitch, but everyone has heard of the "Sutherland Scoop."
Good comment! Thank you very much!
There is no soprano whom I esteem as greater than Callas. Sure, I can understand the controversy surrounding her voice. It's true that when one juxtaposes the work of great singers from the earliest days of recording technology with hers, one can hear a revolution in the emotional energy she put into every aria, every duet, every... just everything... a revolution that included the absence of an element which, in the view of the teachers of the nineteenth century school of opera singing, the prevailing school even up to her time, was sine qua non to the greatness of an esteemed performer- surpassing elegance. Oh, but this only proved her singularity... And I'm in serious danger of gushing! I can't have another offense related to that on my record! Simply put, she produced a legacy that, for me, shows opera for everything it is and should be, and I'm glad you're a fellow fan. You state her legend eloquently and, yet, directly. Your site has helped me to appreciate quite a lot about opera that I didn't know about when I originally developed my interest in it, and I revisit it often. It's the first opera blog I ever read, and it has been some of the inspiration for what has become my first web site, everyonesopera.com. I'll definitely be recommending your work to everyone I know. I greatly appreciate your contribution to the fascinating world of the most magnificent art form there is!
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