Defining the Diva
Follow Daisy through the extravagant halls of the V&A Museum’s DIVAS exhibition before its April 10 closing…
The latest instalment of historical and iconic fashion at the V&A is centred around the Diva.
But what comes to mind when you hear that word?
A phenomenal star draped in luxurious clothing, singing under a single sultry spotlight with total command of the room, or a young, self-important and persistently temperamental celebrity slamming her dressing room door shut in the latest of a regular series of meltdowns over ‘nothing’?
Coming in, you already know that this is going to be about celebration. The exhibition describes itself as one created to “celebrate the power and creativity of iconic performers, exploring and redefining the role of ‘DIVA’ and how this has been subverted or embraced over time across opera, stage, popular music, and film.”
In doing so, they explicitly define the term around a woman or gender non-conforming person who is a performer, usually a singer or actor, using a mixture of astounding talent, outrageous style and a bold uncompromising personality to create change not only in their industry, but also in the wider world they operate within. Already, the word comes fully-loaded. It can refer to a talented, confident femme, or it can be twisted to portray instability and self-assuredness; one who is too bossy or bitchy. Most importantly, it can be weaponised to belittle someone whose voice is simply considered too big.
It’s great news, I think, that the V&A is loudly reclaiming the word in all its positivity by looking at how it was used in a derogatory way to bring down women who were actually doing really important work.
Being in the spotlight is a tough job, what with the general public’s increasing obsession & dependence on celebrities and performers to share with us every single element of their lives outside of their jobs. It’s definitely time that we appreciate the Divas of our day.
I’m personally always grateful to have a museum on my doorstep that gives such attention and appreciation to fashion — an element of the arts that is so often left out of galleries, despite being arguably the most widely accessible and well-known forms of art that we all interact with and use daily.
This particular exhibition has a beautiful curatorial story, defining the role of the Diva throughout history and spotlighting the important women who caused ripples in their own era.
Starting with 19th-century Opera singers who were the equivalent to today's global superstars and celebrities, with word of their beauty and talent spreading all around the world. Women who became muses and artistic heroines due to their strong personalities and beauty that captured many an imagination. Whilst today an opera singer doesn’t spark ideas of a rebel or a trend-setting celebrity, in the 19th century they very much were the Divas of their day.
“...spotlighting the important women who caused ripples in their own era.”
As we travelled through time along the passages of the exhibition space we stumbled across showgirls, dancers and actresses whom all claimed huge stardom in their time, as well as mystery, allure and the unlikely power to demand change, that not many women held at those times.
Finally, moving into the top floor of the V&A’s fashion section, we entered a section dedicated to the present-day Diva — feathers, rhinestones and undeniable airs of camp were on show: Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Cher… iconic contemporary singers and actresses who possess the strength of character, talent and style to secure their rank among modern-day Divas.
It didn’t pass me by that of almost all the 20th century to present-day Divas — the only regrettably that I knew very much about from the exhibition, doubled as Gay Icons. Perhaps Queer folk are more enamoured with strong, sexy women than the straight masses ever really were, referring to these powerhouses as Icons — instead of the double edged word ‘Diva’ that can edge in with that element of shame around being ‘too much’.
My little queer heart sang when I saw mentions of Elton John and Prince as Divas (giving the title a rare, genderless attribution to pizazz beyond basic sex) and inclusion of Transgender Music Producer SOPHIE, keeping trans women where they belong on our radar as progressive game-changers. It was, however, only one small moment, and so many other trans women, drag queens and queer people could have been included.
As we wandered around the exhibition, wearing headsets and listening to clips from the musical talents whose clothes we were admiring, what stood out to me was just how hugely talented these Divas were. If they were straight men no doubt they would have been called “genius”, “maverick” or other more ‘serious’ appreciations. However, being on the more feminine side of the spectrum, perhaps it was deemed that Divas needed their own, salty title to keep them in a respected, but still lower level of society.
Can you name any straight, cis-gender man who would qualify as a Diva? I don’t think I can.
To me, resistance — especially through popular culture such as music, film and fashion — is a fundamentally queer thing. Long have fashion, music and the arts been the stage for playing out narratives around gender, identity, challenging the status quo and doing it in loud, proud technicolour, fully miked.
Reclamation, too, it seems is something that belongs to queer resistance — from the reclamation of femininity in our dress, to the pink triangle in the AIDS crisis, to turning slurs once used against us into the terms of endearment we use for each other, and now in celebrating the unflinching campness and impractical levels of glamour that for once are part of the powerful persona of a woman (see Shirley Bassey’s custom diamante-studded wellies from Glastonbury 2007). A joyful change from glamour being viewed as flippant and femininity being viewed as a weakness and vanity. In the world of Divas, the stage presence and huge attention to fashion is part of the power. And I believe that should be celebrated.
“Reclamation, too, it seems is something that belongs to queer resistance...”
Also, the element of camp and fun is an important part of the story too. We all know a woman who is too serious gets nowhere, and a woman who is too light-hearted gets dismissed. It takes a special kind of woman, with the beauty and humour to capture our hearts, to weasel her way in far enough for her words to really and truly be heard. With the same clever twisting of the Patriacrchy’s arm as women who profit from men’s lust over them, or cash in on the exact stereotypes created to hold them down, a Diva does as she’s told just long enough to get onto the stage.then, with a twinkle in her eye and a disarming smile on her face, she tells you that she is, in fact, in charge.
credits
words — daisy riley
design — karina so.