Maria Callas: Haute fashion, haute drama

Christian Dior and Yves Saint Laurent were both fans and collaborators. Saint Laurent became a close friend, moving in the same society circles in the late ‘50s. She was a celebrity, appearing in the gossip pages as much as the art pages. Her famous liaison with the Greek tycoon Aristotle Onassis was covered for many years, from the time she ditched her husband to be with him till the time he married Jackie Kennedy and kept seeing her thereafter.

Beneath all the glamour, however, was a tormented backstory. She was born Maria Kalogeropoulos (shortened to Callas) in 1923 in New York City, where her parents had recently immigrated from Greece. Her mother Litsa had wanted a boy after the death of their son, making Maria a disappointment that the young girl felt as a child when her older sister Jackie was favored. The fact that Jackie, who was thinner, was considered more beautiful, would lead to body issues all throughout her adulthood. There developed a resentment towards her mother that would never be resolved, especially after Litsa assumed the role of abusive stage mother, forcing her to perform as early as age five. Later, back in Athens after separating from her husband, she encouraged Maria to prostitute herself during the poverty-stricken war years. Although Maria was steadfast and remained “untouched,” she never forgave her.

Her mother is still credited, however, for getting her the right education, landing her at the Athens Conservatoire where the Spanish coloratura Elvira De Hidalgo taught her the real bel canto which would give her the edge. The teacher recalled how Maria was “a phenomenon. She would listen to all my students, sopranos, mezzos, tenors, she could do it all.” Maria worked hard, starting at 10 a.m. and leaving with the last pupil after class because she felt that “with the least talented pupil, he can teach you something that you, the most talented, might not be able to do.” 

By the time she had her professional debut in 1941, she already made waves with such a fantastic performing ability that “others started trying ways of preventing her from appearing,” observed one of her co-performers. Success would follow in Italy, the seat of opera, where she made her debut in Verona and also met her future husband, Giovanni Meneghini, a much older, wealthy industrialist who would become the stage husband from their wedding in 1949 to their separation in 1959. 

The turning point in her career happened in Venice in 1949 while singing the role of Elvira in I Puritani, an initial foray into the bel canto repertoire that set her on a path leading to her greatest performances that made history by reawakening interest in the long-neglected operas of the likes of Bellini, Donizetti and Rossini. Her debut at La Scala in 1951 would make it her artistic home for the decade with many productions produced especially for her by directors like Franco Zeffirelli who summed up her enduring influence on opera as B.C. (Before Callas) and A.C. (After Callas). 

She finally performed at the Met in 1951 with Norma, but not without controversy from an unflattering Time magazine story about her being temperamental, having a rivalry with Renata Tebaldi and her strained relationship with her mother—issues that always came up even years later.

A famous 1956 photo showing her with a furious snarl after being handed lawsuit papers made it around the world where she was labeled a “Tigress” prima donna. On Tebaldi, she remarked, “Comparing our voices is like comparing champagne with Coca-Cola.” She also called the Italian soprano “nasty and sly as they come, finding fame through ‘being my rival.’” The recent release of Callas’ unpublished letters reveal that her mother was always trying to blackmail her. Her father was no better, she said, “pretending to be dying in a pauper’s hospital just to ask for money when in fact he just went for a minor ailment.” She did not spare her husband who “kept pestering me after robbing me of more than half my money by putting everything in his name.”

Her greatest love, Onassis, turned out to be her greatest suffering as well. Just like Callas’ husband, he never wanted her to have the child she always wanted and even forced her into an abortion. He was violent, threatening her life at one time and even drugged her so that he could take sexual liberties with her. Writing to her secretary, Callas confided, “I don’t want him to phone me and start torturing me again.”

She actually developed a dependence on drugs, partly because of a neuromuscular disorder which began in the 1950s. Her husband also gave her speed so she could do more engagements. Together with tackling body issues by trying to constantly lose weight—she lost almost 80 pounds between 1953 and 1954 to turn herself into “possibly the most beautiful lady on stage”—her voice suffered, prematurely ending her career. The transformation is one of the greatest of all time, says the singer Rufus Wainwright, a friend of the grandson of Biki, Callas’ Italian designer who was responsible for the diva’s initial makeover. “It was a Faustian bargain because it came at such a price, resulting in many health and voice problems between her 1947 debut and final opera performance in 1965.” Callas died of a heart attack in 1977 at 53. “It’s an illustration of the all-encompassing and treacherous nature of artistry.”