Too many divas, not enough time
Fame, attitude, bling-bling aren't nearly enough
Alicia Keys is a talented singer but she's too young and
inexperienced to be considered a diva yet.
COMMENTARY
By Michael E. Ross
(Misdemanor) Elliott and Alicia Keys are in final negotiations for a
divas tour package -- set to play arenas in about 20 markets in the
spring -- points to a situation that needs to be addressed. Now.
It won't rise to the level of national security, but it needs to be
said. No more divas by publicist's decree. None. Enough. The time
has come -- it's long past, actually -- to put a stop to it.
Time was, the status of diva was something special, something you
had to earn. And not earn in your first 30 seconds of the obligatory
15 minutes of fame.
Stardom is a subset of divadom; you're a star before you're a diva,
but not immediately before. Being a diva is not just attitude, it's
not just talent, concert grosses, units sold or bling-bling, the SPF
factor of modern celebrity.
Dealing with time
Being a diva is mostly about time, the great leveler, and how ably
you survive its passage. Somewhere along the way, the dictates of
divadom got confused with stardom.
It's an illogical progression from the notions advanced by `American
Idol,' which conveys iconic status on the basis of a three-judge
panel and a call-in vote.
It's perhaps a consequence of our culture's insatiable drive for
instant gratification, the extension of fast-food culture into
entertainment at its most patently ridiculous. It's an illogical
progression from the notions advanced by "American Idol," which
conveys iconic status on the basis of a three-judge panel and a call-
in vote.
Divadom is the status granted to those who've been alive long enough
to know the joy and pain of life, its necessary highs and lows, and
who also have the requisite chops to communicate those highs and
lows onstage. Every time out. Every night (well, most nights,
anyway). No excuses. No bad-hair evenings. No holdouts because
someone didn't put red M&Ms in the candy dish backstage, in
accordance with the contract rider.
There should be a ground rule, a law, even: You can't be called a
diva until you've been in the business for at least 10 years. That
would thin the herd in a hurry. Christina Aguilera? Sit down dear.
Alicia Keys? A phenomenal talent -- all due props -- but she's
almost too young to even say "diva."
Who makes the cut?
Britney? Please. Pleeeeeze. Technically, she makes the cut with her
long-ago tenure as a Mouseketeer, but are you really ready to call
her a diva? She didn't even stay a wife for more than three days;
with an attention span like that, the title's probably wasted on
her, anyway.
So who qualifies? Let me enlighten.
Aretha. Tina. Whitney (yep, even wild Whitney). Leontyne Price.
Jessye Norman. Divas all, and not just because their handlers said
they're divas.
Aretha Franklin is the real deal, one of the few living singers who
truly deserves the title Diva -- capitalized. For more than 40
years, she's walked the walk and talked the talk ... and her voice,
while not the clarion instrument it was 20 or 30 years ago, still
summons an undeniable authority. Nobody sings like Aretha because
nobody's lived like Aretha.
Tina Turner? No question. She triumphed over Ike Turner -- no small
feat -- then moved on to a stellar solo career on her terms, all the
while maintaining an energy and presence singers half her age (65!)
would kill for.
Whitney Houston? For all her personal troubles of late, Whitney can
still power a song to places other singers can only imagine. The
Star-Spangled Banner will never be the same.
Mariah Carey? Chronologically, she gets the nod (her first album
came out in June 1990). And emotionally, with the array of personal
and professional troubles she's experienced, the merciless dissing
of her movie, and negotiating the attitudes of a fickle public --
Mariah qualifies.
Gray hairs and laugh lines
There are others outside the pop realm. Leontyne Price -- the famed
soprano who has won more than 20 Grammy awards. Jessye Norman, a
singer of uncommon range, from opera to jazz standards.
And there have been others: Betty Carter. Nina Simone. Carmen McRae.
Divas one and all -- and not because their agents and handlers
decided they were divas.
Andy Warhol coined the phrase years ago, how everyone in the world
gets to be famous for 15 minutes. True divas show how elastic that
little rule can be; they understand that some minutes are longer
than others because of what you are, not what you say you are.
To all the singers pining for divadom: Relax. Slow down. Take a deep
breath. Live life. Grow up -- get a few gray hairs, a few laugh
lines. Let the clock make you a diva. Promise: it'll never really
happen otherwise.
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