Some women should never be forgotten…Maria Callas is one of them.
My favorite read from last year was a biography about her by music critic and author Sophia Lambton (who is as kind as she is brilliant). When she reached out to me, asking me if I would read her book, I had no idea that I would fall in love with the book as much as I did, or fall in love with Maria.
Sometimes you can’t put your finger on what it is about a biography that made you love it so much, only that it brought you right to the doorstep of an extraordinary person. And further, that it opened the door to their life in a way in which you were now there, living it with them, and experiencing their experience. For the first time, reading this book, I realized that books are not just tidy works of well-crafted narratives, but mysterious and magical vehicles of transport.
Sophia’s biography of Maria (who began performing as a teenager and continued from the 40s through the 60s) is immaculate and masterful, offering deep insight into the life of the greatest female opera singer, showcasing her artistry, dedication and personal struggles. It offers a veracious account of a woman who was often misunderstood. Maria’s life can teach us so many things, not just about opera, but about music, women, marriage and the sacrifices and hardships that great performers and artists must make for their art. She lived her life with a kind of zest that escapes most of us and I loved experiencing her creative world (through Sophia’s deft narration and incredible research!).
But make no mistake that Maria was very disciplined, almost extremely so, and serious about her music. She devoted her entire life to her art. Her work ritual included 20-hour rehearsals and practicing for hours every day on her off days. Her steadfast, almost obsessive commitment to her craft allowed her to achieve a level of popularity and fame unheard of for an opera singer. But it also came with dire consequences to her health— she eventually lost her voice and died abruptly of a heart attack at the age of 53.
Maria once said, “art and marriage are incompatible,” and proclaimed that she was married to her art and maintained her independence until her last day. She stuck to her own principles and ideals, and didn’t cave in for anyone, managing to preserve her free spirit. When I asked Sophia if she thought that Maria was a feminist, she said that Maria didn’t intend to be a feminist. She was an “accidental feminist.” She married her manager but then divorced him for his controlling and swindling ways. Eventually she found a soul mate in Greek tycoon Aristotle Onassis, who accepted her as she was, though he went on to marry Jackie Kennedy.
As serious as she was as a performer and musician, Maria was fun loving in private, never forgetting the kindness of a stranger, talking late night to friends on the phone, and offering advice to help others. Maria was also a style icon and had a close friendship with Yves Saint Laurent and other famous designers. Vogue ran an article about her in its December issue featuring her fashionable persona and the new movie out about her. The newfound attention came from her recent centennial.
Maria lived for ideals beyond herself and reached almost unattainable heights with her art. I’m grateful to have had the chance to meet her and experience her extraordinary life through this book and her world of opera. This book left an indelible mark on me and an impetus for tickets to the opera. Kudos to Sophia for such a major accomplishment!