What Makes a Diva?

Every now and then, there are words in our lexicon which actually “morph” and change in meaning and significance — nowhere is this more clearly illustrated than in the term “Diva”. 

By definition, the term “Diva” — which was coined around 1883, comes from Italian derivation (from Latin) — divus, meaning “goddess; fine lady; a highly distinguished female singer”. Synonymous with “prima donna”, it has legendarily been used to describe highly-charged, larger-than-life female singers (typically in opera) who embody a presence which takes up the whole room, who stuns everyone with her talent, and leaves trails of admirers in her wake. 

Maria Callas was among the original true opera Divas — in the best sense of the word. While her rivalry with fellow soprano Renata Tribaldi was duly noted (and not at all friendly — Callas once compared her sound to Tribaldi’s as one would compare “Cognac to Coca-Cola”), Callas performed and conducted herself professionally by all accounts, and never allowed her acclaim to get in the way of the amazing job she was gifted to do. Indulged, yes. But she never used her position or status as a weapon or currency. The original Divas were notorious for floating through airports with small dogs in their designer bags and carry on trysts with designers, shipping magnates, and the like. Over-the-top privilege. But earned.

The word “diva”— in recent decades — has come to be used negatively; as a pejorative; often describing a celebrity in film, theatre, or music who is extremely fussy, demanding, and yes – even abusive.

Stories still abound about modern opera star Kathleen Battle’s notorious “Diva Fits” which necessitated her dismissal from virtually every established opera house in the world (including being barred from the Met in 1994) — her erratic attendance at rehearsals, showing up late when she did grace them, treating other cast members in a hostile and occasionally violent manner, and even going so far as forbidding eye contact from crew members — prompted many of her former work associates from the San Francisco Opera to have t-shirts made up which bore the testimonial “I Survived The Battle.” 

Up to a certain point, the behavior of the ill-tempered Diva has sometimes been seen as the cost of doing business; the reasonable amount of shenanigans required to entice that kind of rare talent to your stage. Obviously, though, there is a point of critical mass where the outbursts and the tantrums are seen as just too great a liability to overlook, and even phenomenal talents like Kathleen Battle were not immune to being dismissed if the cost was too high. 

I, personally, loved hearing the story about Patti LuPone (who originated the role of Evita on Broadway) who — when filming a movie in Nova Scotia, found herself in a night scene which involved her to be thrown overboard into the chilly Atlantic take after multiple take. At first tolerant of the freezing cold plunges (and the subsequent drying-off between takes), she let three or four takes happen before she took the assistant director aside and said: “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to have a Diva Fit.” To warn others that a Diva Fit is imminent — and to carefully reserve the “fit” for when it truly warrants an appearance — shows such amazingly — and refreshingly — UN-Diva-like behavior. 

Just when we think we’ve heard the very last anecdote there can possibly be about Naomi Campbell eviscerating yet another assistant (and capping off the tirade with another cell phone thrown to the forehead) — the tide turns…slowly. Without even knowing when it happened, the term “Diva” has almost come around full circle, and is gradually taking on an almost positive meaning of empowerment, assertiveness, and control (in the words of Beyonce in her song “Diva”” “…..Diva’s just a female version of a hustla..” The word has been reclaimed, and almost given a positive depiction. It’s powerful. In a good way.

It did actually happen to me — at a conference I was attending a couple of years back — that someone actually *did* refer to me as a “Diva” — I think it came about as a glowing: “Allison, you are the Asterisk Diva!” (referring to my work as the voice of the Asterisk Open Source PBX.) Meant with the best intentions, I’m sure the comment was intended by the “gusher” to mean all the good aspects associated with the term — more Callas than Battle — nonetheless, I still felt compelled to explain that I *am* easy to work with; I’m *not* prone to tantrums, and my cell phone sits firmly in my handbag as it always does, undercharged, largely ignored, and never, ever launched at anyone’s forehead. 

Our culture tends to elevate performers into the stratosphere – deservingly, or not. North American culture also seems to derive a great deal of satisfaction in seeing Divas get their come-uppance and fall from that high position. Those who command a certain stature have an immense responsibility to stay grounded and remain likable; like Callas, who set the standard for greatness with her talent and graciousness, and whose legacy inspires.

Allison Smith is a professional telephone voice. heard on multiple platforms worldwide. [email protected], @voicegal