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ANNA CECILIA SOPHIA MARIA KALAGEROPOULOU
Elizabeth Exintaris*
Callas - The Early Years
Maria Callas, the greatest and most versatile opera singers of recent history, sang an
incredible variety of roles and had a distinctive vocal timbre in which she could colour
in a number of ways.
Her vocal timbre was not the only distinctive characteristic but she could
also act, a rarity with opera singers. Callas was quoted in saying” I don’t know
what happens to me on stage. Something else seems to take over”
She learned from scratch, but succeeded. Callas wanted to be at the
top of her profession and she became a leading figure in the world of Opera.
Callas’ love and passion for music drove her to success. Her love of music and, in
particular opera, is clearly evident through her entire career.
Her superb soprano voice changed the world of opera in the 20th century.
Callas was the best known bel canto singer of the post war period. To sing in
this style is difficult, calling for exceptional refinement of tone, quality,
legato and breath control. We can easily describe Callas’ life as a tragedy of operatic
proportions. This year,
2005, is the 28th anniversary of her death in Paris on 16 September 1977.
Her life, hopes, dreams, world recognition, glory and tragedies are like many of the
operas she sang so passionately and many operas that have been written by great
composers such as Verdi, Puccini and Bellini. Even her death can be taken out of the
score of La Traviata.
Her father, George Kalageropoulos was a pharmacist who came from the small town
of Meligala in the Peloponese. He came from a struggling family. However, Maria’s
mother, Evangelia Dimitriades (known to all as "Litza") came from Constantinople
and from a family of fine musicians. The Dimitriades family were considered uppermiddle-
class, with an artistic heritage. Her family had produced fine musicians, army
officers and political figures. Evangelia’s grandfather a hero of the Greek Army was
known as the Singing Commander during the Balkan War.
Evangelia did not have the musical talent of her grandfather. Although she wanted to
be an actress, she never had the opportunity. Perhaps this is why she would not
allow her daughters to miss any opportunities. The Dimitriades’ claim to culture was
of great pride to Litza. Apparently, she always liked to discuss her musical
knowledge and to discuss the well known artists she had met. Her house was
surrounded by music, gramophones and recordings.
George and Litza married in August 1916. Their first child, Yacinthy ("Jackie"), was
born in Athens and a son, Vasily, in 1920. Sadly, Vasily contracted typhoid fever and
died when just three.
After his death, the family was in turmoil with Litza deeply depressed. Litza was again
pregnant. She believed God was sending her a son as "replacement" for Vasily. In
this trauma, George decided for a new life in a new country. They migrated to
America in August 1923.
Litza was certain she was to have a boy. However, to their dismay a girl was born on
2 December 1923. Litza refused to see her or acknowledge her child and George did
not register her birth at first. They could not decide upon her name but finally agreed
on Maria. Maria was born on December 2 but Litza later claimed Maria was born on 4
December after two days of torturous labour and for this reason there has been a
discrepancy about her birthdate.
On the night of Callas’ birth a wild storm was occurring- snow lacing and grey skies.
Perhaps symbolic!! Her life was tempestuous and stormy and even when her ashes
were scattered in the Aegean, a storm broke out.
Three years later Maria was christened Anna Cecilia Sophia Maria Kalageropoulou.
No wonder, like so many migrants, George changed the family surname to Callas!!.
Maria, a "big" baby at over 10 pounds, remained heavy set, a problem that plagued
her into adulthood and had a profound effect on her career. Maria as a child was very
plain but later on in life became a very beautiful elegant woman.
It was crucial to Litza that her daughters become involved with the arts.
Litza thought Jackie could do little wrong, while at times Maria was neglected by her
mother and her sister. Jackie was taught singing and piano as Maria listened at the
door!!
Maria, after surviving a serious car accident when just five, began her musical
education in 1930, when she commenced piano and solfeggio lessons.
Once, when Maria was about ten and at home singing La Paloma, Litza saw a crowd
of people listening from the street. They greeted Maria’s performance with raucous
applause. Perhaps this made Litza aware of Maria's talents. She was soon entered
in talent shows as well as taking the leads in school plays and solo roles in concerts.
An appearance, aged 11, on the very popular Jack Benny show followed, but on the
night she was placed second.
Undeterred, she continued to enter talent shows. Once, while listening to a radio
broadcast of The Metropolitan Opera’s Lucia di Lammermoor with Lily Pons singing
Lucia, Maria is said to have shouted that Lily Pons had strayed off pitch and said, “I
don’t care if she is a star. She sings off-key Just wait and see, one day I am going to
be a star myself, a bigger star than her".
Despite all this, Maria apparently talked about becoming a dentist.
Maria had a difficult childhood. Her biographers refer to her difficult relationship with
her mother. Still, it was Litza who introduced young Maria to musical studies and to
the ordeal of public appearances in talent. It was her mother who laid the musical
foundations for Callas and her rise to stardom.
Maria finished eighth grade in January 1936 after a well-received performance in
Gilbert and Sullivan’s HMS Pinafore. This was the end of her formal education as her
mother took her out of school, aged just 13, to return to Greece to train as a singer.
At the end of 1936 Litza and Maria returned to Greece on the "Saturnia". To Maria's
dismay, her parents separated at this time, the separation from her father deeply
affecting Maria for many years. The journey took three weeks and Maria said that
she practiced singing with her pet canaries, even palpating their throats to
understand their secrets. After warming up in the cabins with the canaries she would
go into the tourist lounge and sing.
During the voyage, apparently, the Captain invited Maria to sing at a party he was
giving for two Italian Constesas and his offices. A perhaps plump Maria in a simple
white collared blue dress sat down at the piano, took off her glasses and sang her
favourites La Paloma and Ave Maria and concluded with the Habanera from Bizet's
Carmen. The Captain rewarded Maria with a doll!!
When the "Saturnia" finally arrived at the Pelopponesian port of Patras in March 1937
the Captain and his officers wished their charming little diva good luck. That doll was
the first doll Maria had ever had as Litza did not approve of such frivolous things.
Maria kept this keepsake throughout her stay in Athens.
CALLAS - MIDDLE YEARS 1937 – 1945
THE YEARS IN GREECE
Maria was American by birth and early upbringing and Italian by career and later by
marriage to Giovanni Battista Meneghini. She was also Greek by blood and
subsequent naturalization.
The Greek years (1937-1945), the difficult years of adolescence to young adulthood
were an opportunity for Maria to acquire musical and operatic skills.
She gained from the veteran Spanish soprano Elvira de Hidalgo (1888-1980) with
training in coloratura singing. Callas developed her voice in two directions at once,
one for dramatic roles and the other in the Italian bel canto tradition. She sang in a
number of dramatic roles between 1941 and 1945 (including as Santuzza in
Cavalleria; Marta in D'Albert's Tiefland; Leonore in Fidelio, and, Smaragda in O
Protomastoras by Manolis Kalomiris).
At this time there were two leading conservatories – The Athens and the National.
Soon Maria was taking part in an endless series of auditions. She would sing for
anyone her mother convinced to stay still for a few moments.
Within six months of returning to Greece, Litza had Maria singing at a taverna often
frequented by agents, managers and talent scouts. Amid raucous men, tobacco and
ouzo permeated the atmosphere. Although minors were not allowed, Litza fluffed out
Maria’s hair, put rouge to her lips and tossed her old shawl around her. Her height
and mature body gave the impression she was a young woman not a girl. Maria
refused to sing but eventually, accompanied by Jackie, sang La Paloma, to a
standing ovation.
The audience included young tenor – Zannis Cambanis - with the Athens Opera
(Lyric Opera), studying under Madame Maria Trivella, a teacher at the National
Conservatorium. Within six months Maria was auditioning there.
By then Maria was thought to have a good sense of pitch, used her hands, her eyes,
and stressed certain words with open and emotional quality. She had the physical
attributes of a true opera singer. - large mouth, long neck, sturdy frame.
Maria Trivella and Litza falsified Maria's age to help her gain a scholarship to the
National Conservatory in Athens. The authorities were keen to believe that she was
16 and not 13 and agreed to subsidize her musical education.
Maria’s life was dominated by one influential person. Maria Trivella. She became
more to the 13 year old than just a mentor. Rather she took the place of Litsa and
perhaps instilled far greater confidence in Maria than she could have ever received
from her mother.
Music was Maria’s entire focus, with a self evident passion for music and learning. At
times she would have lunch in Trivella's studio and eat dinner in her room while she
was studying. This lifestyle came back to haunt her later, when she realized how
much she had given over to music.
"There must be a law against forcing children to perform at an early
age. Children should have a wonderful childhood. They should not be
given too much responsibility."
A close friend once said
” When I was near Maria, her appearance may have been calm and
silent but if I sat near her quietly, without talking, I never felt the calm of
silence coming from her. Deep down the turmoil was hidden. On the
surface everything was quiet: underneath I felt the volcano getting
ready to explode at any minute”
Maria had an impressive will power and a passion for music.
Maria made her operatic debut at 15 as Santuzza in Mascagni's Cavalleria
Rusticana, while studying at the National Conservatory under Maria Trivella. -
surprising as the difficult role of Santuzza was one difficult for performers in their 20s
or 30s to sustain. It required not only vocal technique but the interpretation for this
role was very dramatic, but from the audience’s ringing applause she knew that
opera was her destiny.
She was five foot nine inches tall but weighed 180 pounds. Her weight rapidly
increased after her arrival in Greece and her poor eyesight - myopia - caused her
many problems throughout her career.
“On Stage I am in the dark … “my poor sight gives me an advantage; I
can’t see the people in the audience who are scratching their heads
while I am lost in my role and giving everything I have to the drama”
Nothing was done to understand or control her weight. This was not a time when
the medical profession (especially in Greece) looked on obesity as an illness.
As tensions towards the Second World War escalated Maria Trivella made a hasty
return to Italy. As soon as she left in June 1939, Maria auditioned with Elvira de
Hidalgo, a celebrated Spanish soprano for entrance into the Athens Conservatory.
At her final concert with the National, the audience rose to cheer her. The evening was
highly emotional for as Maria was leaving her first mentor for the unknown.
Madame Trivella had been more to her than a teacher. She had come to play a
maternal role in her life.
She would later say that she felt loved only when she was singing for an audience.
Her father (she thought) had rejected her, some of her peers excluded her from their
social lives and now politics separated her from the one person who had given her
warmth and acceptance - Madame Trivella.
Elvira de Hidlago worked at the Odeon Athinon, Athens’ leading conservatorium. At
her first audition, she did not make a good impression upon de Hidalgo:
'She was overweight, and nervously biting her fingernails. The idea
of her wanting to be an opera singer seemed ridiculous to me, in fact
laughable”
Maria was the last applicant to sing. Before starting, Maria turned her face away but
then when Maria began to sing, de Hidalgo was caught completely off guard. This
was not that insecure girl nibbling at her fingers. This young woman commanded
attention and later de Hidalgo recorded
'Well, of course her vocal technique was by no means perfect but there
was innate drama, emotion musicianship and a certain individuality in
her voice that moved me deeply.
In fact, I shed a tear or two and turned away so that she could not
see me. I immediately knew I would be her teacher and when I
looked into her most expressive eyes, I also knew that in spite of
everything else [her weight, skin condition etc.], she was a beautiful
girl."
De Hidalgo had heard a voice that could one day be a star. Maria was immediately
admitted to the Conservatorium, tuition free, as her personal student. Her teaching,
which frequently lasted from morning to evening, is considered as having played a
decisive role in shaping her artistic personality. Maria would clutch her music close to
her chest all the time. Her passion for music was extraordinary!
There was no time for the interests of most girls of her age ,
"My interest, perhaps my only interest in life, was my music, I was before
long so fascinated listening to all of de Hidalgo's pupils, not only the
sopranos but also the mezzos and even the tenors, singing both light and
heavy operas, that I used to go to the conservatory at ten in the morning
and leave with the last pupil in the evening. De Hidalgo.would ask me, why
I stayed so late, My answer was that I felt that even the least talented pupil
could teach me something".
As with Maria Trivella, Maria spent every hour she could with de Hidalgo, offering to
do errands, clean her apartment - anything to remain with her after her lessons. De
Hidalgo immediately welcomed her into her life.
"She was an extraordinarily gifted girl, but she was more than that to me. I was
aware of the child's loneliness, but even though I loved her - and I always will - as
a daughter, it would have been wrong for me to take over from her mother. I
would not allow her to do housework but instead encouraged her to look
after her hands, her fingernails and so forth. A future prima donna was
expected to have elegance both in her singing and her appearance.”
De Hidalgo tried to curb her eating and to make her dress tastefully.
Maria had begun the long and at times painful process of learning bel canto with De
Hidalgo. When she started her range was so narrow that many teachers considered
her a mezzo soprano rather than a soprano. Under de Hidalgo she developed higher
notes and low chest notes that she had never used before. She concentrated on
coloratura training. As she expanded her voice she learned a deep broad range of
roles that in time would be defined as hers: in fact, she learned them even before her
voice was developed enough to sing them.
De Hidalgo not only taught her to sing, but to dress, to walk across the street and
stage, and to use her hands and
arms to generate a pulsing energy while standing
still.
The obsessive discipline and willpower that she had developed under Maria Trivella
helped her to master these things – traits that would develop her into La Divina.
Her short-sightedness forced her to make strenuous memory efforts; all her career
she interpreted Operas as she was unable to see the Conductor, so she had to also
learn the other characters' parts! She would attend rehearsals one hour before hand
to outline where she will be standing and moving.
During 1940, Maria’s first engagement with the Lyric Theatre Company, was singing
songs in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice at the Royal Theatre in Athens and later
with the Conservatory as Amelia in "Un Ballo in Maschera". Around this time, de
Hidalgo decided to cast Maria as Angelica in the Conservatory's production of Puccini's
Suor Angelica. Zannis Cambanis later recalled, "It was a stunning performance - I
wept, I actually wept"'
Early in 1941, Maria, then 17, played Beatrice in a very successful Boccaccio at the
Palas Cinema, but the attention Maria received from de Hidalgo and the seeming ease
with which she had advanced so quickly from the chorus was resented by the rest of
the company. In fact, her position was caused by her fear of being rejected, but she
was misunderstood.
Another member of the production, Ghalatia Amaxopoulou, years later recalled some
of the company deeply resented Maria, feeling that her voice was not right for the role,
even though the critics thought her a great success. “As Maria was born and
brought up in America,” Amaxopoulou stated, “she pronounced Greek with a
slightly foreign accent”.
Significantly, during the performances of Boccaccio that she sang in 1941, Maria
developed a slight “wobble” in her voice. De Hidalgo was quite alarmed,
concerned she may have pushed her student ahead at too accelerated a pace.
Maria was kept off stage for several months while she endeavoured to improve her
technique.
In July, Maria returned to Boccaccio, but this proved to be a grave mistake. The
“wobble” once again returned. It took a year for Maria to overcome this problem.
She was hopelessly unhappy until she could return to the stage in 1941, when she
was engaged by the Lyric Theatre company to perform in Tosca, Tiefland, Cavalleria
Rusticana, Fidelio, O Protomastoras, Boccaccio and Der Bettelstudent.
Although German troops occupied Athens, there were also Italian soldiers stationed
there. Apart from singing, Maria was also working as an interpreter during the war.
For the Italian soldiers, bel canto was an operatic style very well known to them. On
occasions, despite German proclamations against noise in both private and public
spaces, the sounds of the piano and singing in their home made important
connections. One such connection was the Italian Colonel, Mario Bonalti from
Verona. He would accompany her on the piano and also supply the family with gifts
and extra rations for her and her family.
In autumn 1941 a Greek officer and friend of the family arrived at Callas’ home with
two British officers. They had escaped from prison and needed somewhere to hide.
They hid them in their home and every day for some six weeks, regularly at 9pm,
Maria would go to the piano and play and sing. She would play and sing anything,
giving a background for the escaped officers to listen to the BBC from London.
Within days of the officers leaving, a squad of Italian soldiers pushed through their
doors with weapons to search the house. Maria knew that the escaped soldiers had
left letters and photos. She went to the piano and sang from Tosca. The soldiers
came round the piano, put down their weapons and listened to Maria sing and play.
They forgot about everything else and later brought loaves of bread, salamis and
macaroni in appreciation of Maria’s performance.
Months later, when the Athens Opera was preparing Tosca, she was to sing the title
role. She was only a little over eighteen when she began her intense preparations for
the performance, perhaps the youngest Tosca in the history of professional opera.
On 27 August 1942, she sang a Greek Tosca.
Apparently she worried about her voice and her poor vision. Unable to wear glasses,
she was frightened she would trip or, worse, misplace the candles at Scarpia's body in
the climactic murder scene at the end of Act Two. However she was given a standing
ovation and curtain calls but left certain that her performance had been disastrous.
The music critic for Provia referred to a slight hardness that once or twice crept into
her voice', but concluded that 'Kalogeropoulou acted her role with her voice as well as
with her body - such accomplishment one rarely finds even among the most
experienced artists'.
The most favourable review came from Vradini written music critic Alexandra Lalaouni.
Not only does Maria Kalogeropoulou sustain the role comfortably, and sing it
correctly but at the same time she is able to live it with insight and convey it
to the audience who were often moved. A true miracle. Her voice is rich all
through its long register and she knows how to produce it and give meaning to
the words. But, however good her training is, it seems to me there is
something else about her; the deep natural musicianship, instinct and
understanding of theatre are qualities that she could not have learned at
school. Not at her age anyway; she was born with them. It was not at all
surprising that she electrified her audience.
With a single performance Maria had been recognized!!
However, at the Athens Opera a group, led by an elderly soprano, did not want her to
gain an appointment. Their leader, originally scheduled to play the role of Tosca, was
unable to perform due to ill health. She bitterly opposed being replaced by Maria, but
although too weak to do anything, sent her husband to block Maria’s entrance.
Maria scratched his face with her fingernails as he tried to stop her from performing
that evening. After she scratched him he struck her, leaving Maria with an obvious
“black-eye”. She had a bruise under one eye but with stage makeup and a large hat it
was concealed.
Her performance made her famous throughout Athens and cemented her place at
the Athens Opera, where she gained the title of “The Tigress” whilst Litza, who was
always a step behind her, was known as “Maria’s Shadow”.
There was jealousy amongst her fellow-singers in Athens. They complained about
her to the Board of the Greek National Opera and the Prime Minister and succeeded
in having her demoted on the grounds that her talents were too much admired by
music-lovers in the occupation forces. Some at the Conservatory later accused her
of 'sleeping with the enemy'. She did sing in German and Italian for the occupation
armies when asked to do so and chose songs that might remind them of their
homes. Although she never discussed receiving food or other necessities as payment
for her singing, there is little doubt that this happened. Maria claimed that was not
interested in wars and politics, just music.
Around 1943, Maria was befriended by an Italian intelligence officer, Major di Stasio,
The Major, an opera buff, once imagined his baritone voice might lead him into an
operatic career. He first heard Maria at a concert for Italian troops in Thessaloniki.
Thereafter di Stasio often came to the apartment, bringing food and small luxuries
for Maria.
For Maria, di Stasio satisfied her need to be wanted and brought her comfort - at
least for the moment He was paternalistic with no connection to the Conservatory
nor the opera company, where gossip was a prime amusement.
In April 1943, di Stasio arranged for Maria to give a concert at Casa d'Italia under the
direction of Giorgio Lykoudis, The Casa d'Italia was formerly the Italian Institute of
Culture for Greece. It was Easter week and mainly attended by officers of the occupation
army. She sang Stabat Mater, an oratorio by Giovanni Pergolesi. With Maria
refusing even de Hidalgo's pleas to disassociate herself from di Stasio and the
occupation forces, this concert not only caused further dissension between herself,
but alienated many of her peers and became a serious threat to her scholarship to
the Athens Conservatory.
In August 1943, again under di Stasio's auspices Maria was again allowed to travel to
Thessaloniki to give a concert to Italian and German troops. Callas later claimed later
that she never was aware of whom she was singing for but what and how she was
singing. She was still young and unknown outside Greece and she sang using her
Greek name, Maria Kalogeropoulou. These factors that would in the future blur the
contentions that she had been a collaborator.
One day di Stasio just vanished. He was never heard of again, his fate unknown.
After he vanished, Maria buried herself in her music. Her weight ballooned.
Tiefland opened in April 1944. Maria's Marta, sung in excellent German, was her
best dramatic role to date. Before completing her engagement as Marta, she also
stepped into the role of Santuzza in Cavalleria Rusticana for three performances
This was followed by a benefit concert for poor artists, in which she sang the
powerful aria 'Casta diva' from Act One of Bellini's Norma.
She gave two benefit concerts at the Conservatory shortly after di Stasio's
“disappearance”, one for a student aid programme and the other for tuberculosis
victims. Despite these philanthropic gestures, the Board of the Conservatory revoked
her scholarship status, which meant that she could no longer attend classes or
continue to study with de Hidalgo.
The Athens opera refused to renew her contract. They considered that Maria had
played too active a part during the occupation; her singing for Italian and German
soldiers, taking part in Tiefland; the touring; and the gifts and food she had accepted
from the occupiers all worked against her.
Maria was angry, bitter and resentful. Her passion for music and singing could be
seen. All she wanted to do was sing and sing!. She seldom read the newspapers or
listened to the BBC news broadcasts, she immersed herself in her studies.
The Athens Opera had scheduled Beethoven's Fidelio to follow Tiefland. The role of
Leonore was one that Maria longed to sing. After her success in Tiefland, with the
German critics calling her 'Greece's greatest soprano', she was certain she would
be cast in the part. But, she was not as the Board had chosen an older member of
the company. Maria complained that politics had intervened and that she had been
by-passed her by because of her associating with the occupiers and that she was
being `reprimanded'. All that might have been true, but once they were into
rehearsals the chosen Leonore proved to be ill prepared and it seemed unlikely that
she could learn the role in the short time before the first scheduled performance.
Maria was then asked to fill in. She instantly accepted.
The public saw Maria in a new light. The image of her as a collaborator was
nearly banished. As often happens in theatre, the performer was seen as the
character that he or she played. The last performance of Fidelio was given on
September 1944, but perhaps thoughtlessly, soon after Callas gave another concert
in Thessaaloniki for Germans troops. Having recently won back some of her
critics who had thought her a collaborator, once again they had their doubts.
Maria was just a few months away from her twenty-first birthday. It had been eight
years since she had left the United States and about six years since she had had
heard from her father. Soon after the Axis withdrawal from Greece, she received
an unexpected letter from her father but with no return address. This was the first
contact in six years, yet she had frequently talked frequently about returning to
America “'when the war is over”.
Money was an important issue and Maria set to work organizing a concert at the
Teatro Kotopoulli-Rex in August 1944. The performance was well attended and she
was able to pocket the equivalent of nearly US$100, more money than she had ever
seen and a step towards the return journey to America she was contemplating.
Maria was unsure of her next step. She wanted to escape from her mother and her
jealous and resentful colleagues at the Athens Opera and the harsh memories of
Athens and the occupation. She wanted to be reunited with her father. She was an
American citizen and it was in the United States that she felt she would be able to
work with a teacher greater than de Hidalgo and an opera company of international
reputation like the Metropolitan.
She decided to go back to America. Her mother became distraught. She warned her
that it would be a grievous mistake. 'Europe is where great opera is performed,' she
insisted. This led to a terrible fight and then another violent argument with de
Hidalgo, who thought Maria should first go to Italy.
Meanwhile, she had accepted the role of Laura in the operetta Der Bettelstudent
(The Beggar Student) by Karl Millocker, to be presented by the Athens Opera on in
September 1945. 'Before departing,' she later said, `I wanted to give them a last
sample of my art to remember me more vividly. They were obliged to entrust
this difficult role to me because no one else could sing it.'
The truth was Maria was extremely anxious, waiting for approval to leave Athens
whilst resisting pressure from Litza and de Hidalgo for her to change her mind.
Just before the eighth performance of Der Bettelshident the American envoy
confirmed a place for her on a ship leaving Piraeus the next afternoon to connect in Le
Havre with the “SS Stockholm”, en route to New York. She would arrive in New York
in ten days' time.
Neither Litza nor de Hidalgo farewelled Maria from Pireaus. She left alone with some
personal possessions and around US$100, her entire wealth. She felt free for the first
time in eight years. She was saying goodbye to Maria Kalogeropoulou. Her new
American passport identified her as stated, she was now Maria Callas.
During her time in Greece she had performed seven leading roles in 56 performances,
given a number of solo recitals and had sung in 14 concerts, but the other side of the
Atlantic now beckoned….
TRIUMPH AND DECLINE – 1945 – 1977
Maria returned to America in September 1945. At first she struggled to find work and
although she had some successes, within two years she was back in Europe.
This was Maria's choice as after an audition with Edward Johnson of the Metropolitan
Opera, she was offered roles in two productions of their 1946/7 season: Beethoven's
Fidelio and Puccini's Madama Butterfly. She rejected both roles as she did not want
to sing Fidelio in English and thought she was too heavy to portray the young, fragile
Butterfly.
As well, she made some unsuccessful decisions. An agent, Eddie Bagarozy, who
promised her the role of Turandot, vanished into nothing. Then, after accepting a role
to sing in Chicago in January 1947 in a newly founded company, within days of the
scheduled opening performance, the company was forced into bankruptcy. Years
later, Bagarozy would return to haunt her.
On her return to Naples in June 1947, Maria immediately went to Verona to begin
rehearsals for La Gioconda, but within a few days met Giovanni Battista Meneghini, a
wealthy Italian industrialist and opera lover and old entrepreneur. Although he was
30 years older than Maria, in time he was to become her agent and her husband.
Maria's Italian return rapidly advanced her career. After her debut in Verona in La
Gioconda conducted by Tullio Serafin, within little more than a year she had
performed as Isolde under Serafin at La Fenice in Venice and by the end of 1948 had
sung Norma and also Aida for the first time.
Maria sang Brünnhilde in Die Walküre for the 1948/9 season with Tullio Serafin, while
the Italian soprano Margherita Carosio was playing Elvira in the opera I Puritani.
Bored of Brünnhilde, Maria also began sight-reading Elvira's music, with the result
that when Carosio suddenly took ill and a replacement was needed Maria sang for
the Musical Director, who decided that Maria should also play Elvira. She had just
one week to learn the entire opera, a week which also contained her three
performances of Die Walküre.
Thus she sang in Wagner's Die Walküre, which required a heavy voiced soprano,
and three days in Bellini's I Puritani, which required and extremely fluid high voice.
These roles, technically and vocally, require different techniques and extremely
different interpretations, It was the first time this ever occurred in the history of opera
and it was an impossible task for any opera singer, but she was up to the challenge,
and sang both roles perfectly.
After the first performance of I Puritani on 19 January 1949, Maria became the
operatic talk of Italy. It was a huge success, even if she made some small mistakes,
one being that instead of singing "son vergin vezzosa" (I am a charming virgin), she
sang "son vergin viziosa" (I am a vicious virgin).
Three months later, on 21 April 1949, Maria married Meneghini in the Chiesa dei
Filippini in Verona. However, she was forced to have a small wedding in the sacristy,
not in the Church, with just witnesses and officials, simply because Maria retained
her Orthodox faith and, as she has been living with Meneghini before marriage, was
considered a public sinner.
After a brief trip to the Argentine to sing at the "Teatro Colon" in Buenos Aires, Maria
had many engagements, mainly in Italy, but it was not until 1951 that Maria
performed at La Scala in Milan. However, on 7 December 1951 La Scala
surrendered to Maria Callas. She opened the season with I Vespri Siciliani to
thunderous applause and enthusiastic reviews and performed an acclaimed Norma,
During the next seven years La Scala was the scene of her greatest triumphs.
By this time her fame had attracted the recording companies. In 1952 she had
signed with Walter Legge, director of EMI and recorded "Non mi dir" from Don
Giovanni.
After meeting with EMI, Legge and his wife, the great German soprano Elisabeth
Schwarzkopf, went to see Maria in La Traviata in Verona. After the performance,
Schwarzkopf announced that she would never sing La Traviata again. When asked
to explain her decision, Schwarzkopf replied, "What is the sense in doing a part that
another contemporary artist can do to perfection?"
The EMI contract led to a series of recordings in 1953, first Lucia di Lammermoor
and then a series of complete opera recordings at La Scala starting with I Puritani
and Cavalleria Rusticana with Serafin, and Tosca conducted by Victor de Sabata
Her recordings were a great success in her native America, where she returned for a
tour later in the year at Chicago's Lyric Theatre performing in Norma, Lucia di
Lammermoor and La Traviata and was praised as "the greatest soprano in the
world".
Of all things, Hollywood dramatically changed Maria's life. Influenced by the 1953
Academy Award winning film Roman Holiday with Audrey Hepburn, Maria wanted to
be like Audrey Hepburn and she said so. She would model up and down the stairs of
her home in Milan, trying to emulate her. In a short time she lost 30 kilos and her
figure changed dramatically and she became a very attractive woman. Many leading
high-fashion designers started to create new clothes exclusively for her. Her
wardrobe expanded as dramatically as her weight had disappeared!!
Maria's past returned to haunt her on a tour on America in late 1955. She had just
finished performing Madama Butterfly at the Lyric Opera of Chicago when she was
served with Court documents. Her former manager, Eddie Bagarozy, who had been
involved in the debacle in Chicago some eight years earlier, claimed he had a 1947
contractual right to be Maria's sole representative. Bagarozy asserted he was entitled
to a percentage of Maria's fees and claimed expenses he said he had incurred on her
behalf - a total of US$300,000. The case distracted Maria, before it was finally
settled out of court on confidential terms some two years later.
More distractions and disasters follow. In Rome at New Year on 1957, Maria woke to
fine her voice had "gone". She could hardly whisper, let alone sing. The Opera
House was told replacement would be needed, but there was no understudy and a
cancellation would have been disastrous. But what happened was worse than a
disaster. Maria, against the orders of her doctors, went on stage. It was clear from
her first note that her voice was in ruins. At the end of the first act, some in the
audience jeered; others sat in shocked silence. Maria left through a back exit and the
performance was abandoned.
But, Maria was harshly criticised in the media; she had been seen at New Year
celebrations drinking champagne and out late at fashionable Rome nightclubs. The
public was furious and Maria's image tarnished.
Another row erupted a few months later at La Scala during performances of Il Pirata.
She quarrelled with the general director Antonio Ghiringhelli, leading asserting she
would not appear again at La Scala while he was in charge. This was followed by a
contract dispute with the Metropolitan Opera, which ended with Rudolf Bing, the
director of the Metropolitan Opera, terminating the Opera's relationship with Maria.
Despite these problems, in December 1958, she had a stunning performance at a
gala concert at the Paris Opera, which fatefully included Aristotle Onassis in the
audience. A few months later, at a party following a performance in Donizetti’s Anna
Bolena in Venice, Maria met Onassis, who promptly invited them on a summer cruise
on Onassis's yacht, "Christina". The other guests included the British statesman, Sir
Winston Churchill.
Within weeks Maria announced that she would be separating from Giovanni Battista
Meneghini and promptly began a nine year love affair with Aristotle Onassis, a
relationship ultimately destroyed by Onassis' pursuit in the late 1960s of President
John F Kennedy's widow, Jackie Kennedy
By the early 1960s, Maria performed only a few concerts, but there had been another
public outcry at one of her performances. In December 1961, while performing
Medea at La Scala she again had voice problems. During the first act duet with
Jason (performed by Jon Vickers), the audience began hissing. Maria ignored them
until she reached the point in the text where she denounces Jason with a word
"Crudel!" (Cruel man!). After the first "Crudel!" she stopped singing. She looked out
into the crowd and directed her second "Crudel!" directly to the public. She paused
and started again with the words "Ho dato tutto a te" (I gave everything to you) and
shook her fist at the gallery. The stunned audience fell silent and Maria received a
huge ovation at the end of the performance.
Still her native Greece beckoned and around this time Maria returned and performed
at the Epidauros, where she had performed as a young student some two decades or
so earlier.
Although the mid-1960s should have been the pinnacle of her career, sadly decline
had set in. 1964 started the highs and lows. She had moved permanently to Paris
and took part in new productions by Zeffirelli at Covent Garden of Tosca and in Paris
in Norma. These performances, although very successful, worried Maria as she felt
that her voice had started to decay.
After a triumphant return to the Metropolitan Opera in New York in Tosca, disaster
struck in Paris a few weeks later, when she collapsed at the end of Act 2 Scene I of
Tosca and the remaining performances had to be cancelled.
Although her next scheduled was to Tosca at Covent Garden, her doctors advised to
withdraw. She disregarded them and decided to sing just one, the Royal Gala the
final operatic performance of her career.
Her private life too was in turmoil. Maria relinquished her American citizenship so as
so resume her Greek nationality, thereby annulling her marriage to Meneghini. She
waited in vain for Onassis, spending weeks on the "Christina", often alone aboard the
immense yacht.
In June 1969 Maria was engaged to in a film of the myth of Medea (not Cherubini's
opera or Euripide's tragedy, but the myth of Medea) with Pier Paolo Pasolini. She
hardly sang but still worked very hard. Unfortunately for Maria, the film was not a
success and she later turned down a role opposite Gregory Peck in The Guns of
Navaronne, a role later successfully performed by Greek actress Irini Papas.
Maria's singing career had come to a halt and without Onassis, she spent months as
a virtual recluse in Paris. In May 1970, she was rushed to the hospital, the
suggestion being that she had tried to commit suicide by taking an overdose of
barbiturates. Whether this was a deliberate or accidental overdose was never
established.
Although unable to perform, in 1971 and 1972, Maria gave a series of Master
Classes at the Julliard School of Music in New York, these Master Classes later
being the basis of Terrence McNally’s semi-factual play Master Class.
In perhaps another misguided decision, in 1972 Maria rejected George Moore's offer
to be the Artistic Director of the Metropolitan Opera, in favour of a comeback recital
tour with the tenor Guiseppe Di Stefano.
The tour, which lasted from October 1973 until November 1974, was a personal
triumph but an artistic failure, although for the first time in eight years, Maria Callas
was singing in public. The tour ended at Sapporo in northern Japan, where for the
last time world heard Callas sing.
Within months, Maria was devastated by Onassis' death on 15 March 1975, following
a gall bladder operation. Callas became a total recluse in Paris, shut off from her live
and contacts, living in the past with her dreams. She was reported as saying:
"First I lost my voice; then I lost by figure and then I lost Onassis".
HER DEATH - 16 September 1977
In Paris on 16 September 1977, Maria collapsed to the floor outside her bathroom:
“Mi sento male”
“I feel unwell”, Maria said as Bruna (her maid) rushed to her. Maria attempted to get
up, but slumped back on to the carpet and slipped into a coma. Attempts were made
to call an ambulance and a doctor. Just at that moment Vasso Devetzi arrived.
Vasso Devetzi, a pianist, had become very friendly with Maria in her later years.
Maria trusted her to manage her affairs and with Maria falling away from her old
friends amid isolation and loneliness, she had become dependent upon Vasso.
When the doctor asked who was the next-of-kin Vasso replied that she was and that
she was Maria's executor. Neither statement was true as both Maria's mother and
sister were still alive and there was no proof that Vasso had been appointed her
executor. However, the doctor accepted Vasso's statement.
Vasso made no mention of Maria's heavy usage of sleeping pills and amphetamines.
The Death Certificate issued later in the day stated that Maria had died of a heart
attack, based on the doctor’s initial thoughts.
Jackie, told of her death the next morning, reached Paris the next day, but her
mother was too frail to attend. Later, di Stefano arrived but Vasso completely took
over and would not let him in. Her autocratic behaviour led Jackie to believe
that she must have been Maria's agent or manager.
Maria’s funeral was held in the Greek Orthodox Church in Paris’ Rue Bizet.
The church was filled with tributes and flowers from all over the world.
When the coffin slid into the hearse a lone man lifted his hands in the air and
began to clap, "Brava, Callas!" Within a moment his applause was taken over
by the tense crowd ... men and women were weeping as they shouted “Brava,
Diva!”
Although the mourners thought that the hearse was taking Maria to a private
burial, actually Vasso had directed Maria's body be cremated. The secrecy and
hastiness of Vasso’s decisions brought about serious questions.
There was no signed will. One was prepared, but never signed. Maria had
never spoken about a wish to be cremated which in any event was contrary to
teachings of the Greek Orthodox Church. Rumours persisted, suggesting
suicide or even the possibility of murder.
The doctors later agreed that Maria had not died of a heart attack.
The symptoms described by Bruna of Maria's condition the previous day -
breathlessness and back pain - and the account of the morning of her death,
suggested an infarction of the lungs - a massive pulmonary event and a thromboembolism
travelled from the legs up through the blood system that finally blocked the
pulmonary artery.
Maria was taking pills to sleep, pills to wake up; she was depressed; she was taking
a sedative-hypnotic drug that was potentially habit-forming as a sedative and
hypnotic. These drugs were causing her circulation to slow down. Dr Andreas
Stathopoulos, who later married Jackie, decided the combination of Maria being
inactive, lying in bed, lacking exercise and abusing medicines led to the massive
pulmonary event.
But, as Vasso, without seeking an autopsy or an inquest, secretly arranged the
cremation, no one will ever know. Similarly, Vasso’s motives also remain a mystery.
Even in death, Maria remained an on-going enigma and a controversy.
In 2004, opera and film director Franco Zaffirelli claimed Maria may have been
murdered by Vasso, motivated by Callas’ $9 million estate. If Vasso was after Maria's
money and she almost succeeded. The will – unsigned and untraced – apparently
had made Bruna and Ferruccio her principal beneficiaries.
Vasso knew that under French law Maria's mother and sister could claim the
inheritance if there was no will. Before Jackie returned to Athens, Vasso assured her
that as Maria's 'closest and dearest' friend, she wanted to make sure that her family
was compensated.
Hence, Vasso was out to create a trust under Maria's name, with herself as director
with sole authority to write cheques and disperse the money and she would convince
Jackie and Litza to assign a large part of their inheritance over to this `Foundation'. A
Foundation that was never founded!
This was all too easy for her but she did not anticipate, Meneghini arriving two days
after the funeral with and an Italian lawyer, with documents stating that in Italy their
divorce had not been recognized. He was still Maria's husband and entitled to her
entire estate.
Vasso had to do some "fast talking". Court proceedings could have exposed her but she
and Meneghini reached a prompt settlement. He received half her holdings and the
monies from the sale of the apartment. The rest, including Maria's copyrights and
with the exception of' some small personal bequests that she knew Maria would want,
would go to the “Maria Callas Foundation” to encourage and give grants to worthy
young singers and musicians. Ironically, as Maria had not married Meneghini in the
Greek Orthodox Church, she was never legally considered his wife and had the estate
been settled in a Greek court, without a signed will, Litza Callas would have inherited
the entire proceeds.
In December 1977, Maria's ashes were removed from their niche in the Pere-Lachaise
cemetery. Some thought it was Meneghini but after, her ashes were found in another
section of the cemetery. Vasso immediately decided Maria's ashes should be
scattered on the Aegean Sea, where she had often sailed happily with Onassis on the
“Christina”.
Vasso arranged this with the co-operation of the Greek government, only too glad to
bring their most famous diva back to her home in Greece. Litza was too ill to attend,
but Jackie did, Vasso keeping her well in the background as she choreographed the
entire performance. Bruna and Ferruccio were also on board the Greek naval vessel
lent for the occasion. Just as her ashes were being offered to the blustery sea, a strong
wind blew some back, which landed amidst the mourners. Jackie felt a smudge on her
face. It was a horrifying moment, one she would never be able to erase from her
mind.
Vasso kept asking Jackie for money and Maria’s assets to support the Foundation.
In three years, between 1978 and 1980, Jackie turned over to Vasso jewels and gifts
valued at over US$1.5 million, ostensibly for the Foundation, all of which found its
way into Vasso’s pockets. Jackie thought, out of compassion, she was supporting
a woman who had done so much for Maria and her family. As well, Jackie
was distracted by Litza’s failing health. Two years later, in Athens, Litza
passed away.
Not until 1985 when Jackie, in her mid-sixties, married Dr Andreas
Stathopoulos did she come to the full realization what Vasso had
perpetrated.
• There was no office, just a storefront.
• There was no "real" Maria Callas Foundation.
• No singers had been helped.
• No money could be traced.
But it was too late for legal action. Vasso had terminal cancer and died soon
after all this was discovered.
Callas was a phenomenon of her own making, Her career was relatively brief
but its impact was lasting. She was that rare opera singer who connects on
an emotional level with an audience. She brought the women she portrayed
alive - Norma, Tosca, Violetta. She changed opera, opened its heart,
revealed its deepest meanings and her imprint will remain.
In her last interview, Maria Callas said;
“You know, it is a very strange feeling to be a living legend
while I am still on the earth Perhaps it would be better if all
those people who admired my voice decided to consider me
immortal following my death. If that happened I would sit on
some cloud, looking down and I would enjoy the view instead of
siting and worrying about whether I could manage to get out the
high notes.”
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