Maria Callas - La Divina

This is a tribute to my favourite soprano - Maria Callas. I have heard so many in my life, but personally, no one sings as passionately as Callas. Her songs were sang with as much colour as her life was lived. One cannot but be drawn into her world through the passionate laments of her songs. I remembered as a child, I used to sacrifice my meal to purchase yet another recording of Callas, all the way from an odd music shop in Centrepoint (the shop is no longer there). And as I was listening to her belting Bellini's Norma and Bizet's Carmen in the background tonight, I realised that I have not written anything about my favourite soprano in my Blog.

Maria Callas was a legend who lived for her art. She was quoted to have said: "I don't need the money, dear. I work for art." She died in Paris on September 16 1977 when she was merely 53 years: a virtual recluse, dependent, at the end of an unhappy life on cocktails of uppers and downers to give her some sense of emotional wellbeing. She was also regarded as the greatest soprano of the 20th century, though paradoxically - and much about Callas is genuinely paradoxical - some have wondered, and continue to wonder, whether the personal price she had to pay for success was too high.

Thirty years on, we know much more about her from the vast numbers of biographies, sensationalist or otherwise, that have been written. Her reputation as the greatest, however, remains untarnished. Her discs still sell in the millions. CD issues of her live performances, whether authorised or otherwise, remain central to any collection. Earlier last year, a poll of opera critics, published in Gramophone magazine, voted her the most influential soprano of the recording era. Though there was heated discussion of which other singers should be included in the list, no one questioned that Callas should be anywhere other than first.

Although she left us more than thirty years ago, we hardly feel that she was gone, judging from the stream of CDs flowing from her record company. There was even a new 70-CD box set out last year to commemorate the soprano's passing. All of the re-issued music is a testament to an artist who lived, and possibly even died, for her art.

"Vissi d'Arte, Vissi D'amore" - which in Italian means, "I lived for art, I lived for love." Those words, from Puccini's Tosca, could have been a most apt epitaph for dear Maria Callas.

With her vivid interpretations, Callas succeeded brilliantly at living for her art. Soprano Aprile Millo once said, "Listening to Callas is like reading Shakespeare: You're always going to be knocked senseless by some incredible insight into humanity." Millo also called Callas a "huge bonfire," referring to her explosive performances, but also to the fact that Callas burnt white hot, then fizzled out, with a voice left in tatters while she was still in her 40's.

As far as living for love, well, Callas was much less successful in that role. A meaningless marriage ended in divorce, and the small taste of love she did find with shipping mogul Aristotle Onassis soured when he dumped her for Jackie Kennedy. Her spiral into depression was manifested when she said: "First I lost my voice, then I lost my figure and then I lost Onassis."

The only love Callas really knew, it seemed, was the stage. She said: "I don't know what happens to me on stage. Something else seems to take over." Her relationships were with her characters. Callas breathed fierce drama into roles like Tosca, Madama Butterfly and a troubled but strong-willed Druid priestess named Norma.

For ages, roles like Norma were prime territory for twittering sopranos who could hit all the high notes, but missed most of the drama. Callas pumped life's blood into these characters, giving them hearts, minds and even souls. Veteran critic John Steane says you needn't have seen the great Callas on stage; the proof is all right there, on the shiny silver discs.

"What we have on the records is an incomparable richness of this fusion of singing and characterization," Steane says. "You actually do see her act; you do see her as it were on the stage. The sound of her singing was visual."

Even as a teenager, Callas was passionate about learning opera. She sang complete roles at the Athens Conservatory where she studied. Her professional debut came in 1941, at the tender age of 17. What followed was a legendary, but relatively short, career. Callas made her final stage appearance as Puccini's Tosca, in 1965.

As Callas's voice diminished, so did her zest for life. In the end, she lived as a recluse in her Paris apartment, increasingly dependent on the sleeping pills that may have caused the heart failure that ended her life 30 years ago.

Callas remains "controversial". Even today, opera buffs (who don't and obviously can't sing themselves) argue over the finer points of her voice, its 'defects' and why it came unraveled. But most agree that her genius far outweighed a wobble here or there. That her greatness was achieved through a self-lacerating perfectionism and a need to express emotion through the vicarious assumption of figures other than herself, was the product of the private tragedies that are also part of her myth. It makes her a difficult role model to follow, though some have tried. "I prepare myself for rehearsals like I would for marriage" - such discipline and dedication to her work is truly unparalled.

Callas's quest to express emotional truth through music has, however, influenced generations of singers and musicians way beyond her chosen field and even beyond opera itself. That is perhaps the most important aspect of her tremendous legacy and the reason why she will always rank among the greatest singers of all time.

The great soprano referred to herself as two distinct beings — 'Callas the artist' and 'Callas the woman.' Perhaps it was fate, but Callas never really found the tools to fulfill 'Callas the woman', so she poured all of herself into 'Callas the artist.' And that is the Callas who lives on today.

And personally for me, I have long been inspired to be the teacher that she once described: "That is the difference between good teachers and great teachers: good teachers make the best of a pupil's means; great teachers foresee a pupil's ends."

La Divina Maria Callas ...

In her favourite role as Bellini's Norma


In Puccini's "Gianni Schicchi" singing "O Mio Babbino Caro"