Marina Abramovic’s ode to Maria Callas is downright ludicrous at times

Marina Abramovic, the grande dame of performance art, lies motionless in bed, taking on the role of the legendary opera singer Maria Callas on a video screen. Over and over again, Abramovic dies as Callas in various roles. According to her, the artist feels a special bond with the opera diva, but in 7 Deaths of Maria Callas the promise of these two big names is not fulfilled in Carré.

This is largely because the performance stands or falls with the level of the live music. Abramovic could have easily used Callas’ recordings, but chose to combine live opera with video. Since its premiere in 2020 at the Bavarian State Opera in Munich, travels 7 Deaths through Europe with a different occupation. The couple Abramovic and actor Willem Dafoe, her on-screen opponent, is the constant factor.

Of course no living artist can match Callas, but hardly any of these singers, dressed identically as dowdy maids, are even remotely ready for iconic roles like Norma or Tosca. Most arias fail due to flawed technique and dull interpretation, with two exceptions.

The role of Madama Butterfly is too heavy for her voice type, but nevertheless Olga Kulchynska sings very nicely in Un bel dì, vedremo. (This is not Butterfly’s suicide aria, because Abramovic has not only selected music from death scenes.) Nina Minasyan is the only one who manages to show what an opera voice can bring about. For her fantastic madness aria from Lucia di Lammermoor the hall breaks the concentrated silence with rapturous applause.

The singers are certainly not helped by conductor Yoel Gamzou, who commits hundreds of crimes against the opera with his wild gestures. Now he brings the Dutch orchestra Ludwig to an abrupt halt, then again he suddenly presses the accelerator pedal. His random fiddling with tempi is driving me crazy. He smashes Puccini’s melodies with a meat mallet, and he chops Bellini’s into pieces.

Gamzou is more controlled in the new music of Marko Nikodijevic, who strings the six arias together. In the overture, Nikodijevic creates with death knells, echoes from Verdi’s la traviata and mournful woodwinds a dreamy, mournful atmosphere. The thumping interludes between the arias accompany video images of ominous clouds and Abramovic’s reflective voiceovers, and are enhanced by effective weather and wind sounds.

With her long black hair, almond eyes and full lips, Abramovic looks a lot like Callas. This performance opera is clearly a love letter to the singer as a myth and as a woman, but the scenes filmed, ranging from conventional to bizarre, are not all convincing.

Downright ludicrous is the tug-of-war between Dafoe and Abramovic in Bizets carmen and the priestess Norma sprints to the stake next to Dafoe in a glittery dress and feminine makeup. The scene with the murdered Lucia, who continues to smash glassware and mirrors in her wedding dress, lasts too long. Visually impressive but totally devoid of emotion is the spectacle of the jealous Otello wrapping Desdemona in deadly snakes.

The irresistible beauty of a diva death shows Abramovic best in the role of Tosca – she jumps off a skyscraper and floats gracefully downwards. Most moving is her Butterfly, who commits suicide after a nuclear holocaust by tearing a protective suit from her body.

The video images are aesthetic meditations on female operatic roles. The performance is only really about Callas in the seventh scene, when Abramovic gets out of bed to portray the death of the singer herself. Callas stands lonely and depressed in the Paris apartment where she died of a heart attack in 1977 at the age of 53.

Abramovic gives her a more theatrical death. Assisted by the women of the Nederlands Kamerkoor, Callas succumbs to heartbreak caused by the wealthy Aristotle Onassis, who left her for Jackie Kennedy. This last chapter would also be interesting as a stand-alone performance piece, but it is not enough to save the performance.