Diva's Lament

a cancellation story

I was surprised and, to be perfectly honest, irked. Anna Netrebko is one of the greatest operatic sopranos of all time (in my extremely humble and minimally-educated opinion). She and Leontyne Price are my two favorites. They have vocal abilities and tones unlike anyone else. Something about their voices remind me how special being human is. Netrebko's voice soars in effortless, velvety, blow-the-roof-off notes that seem to originate in her bone marrow. For proof one should listen to her Lakmé’s Flower Duet with Elīna Garanča. It’s masterful.

So when the Metropolitan Opera canceled any appearance of her’s for the foreseeable future, I was almost personally offended. It was right on the heels of Putin’s invasion of Ukraine. As Russia’s biggest cultural export, Netrebko (called “the Beyonce of the classical world”) saw her career tumble seemingly overnight. Her schedule, which gets booked out years in advance with operas and recitals, was immediately cleared as all major Western opera houses cancelled her appearances. Contracts were broken. Statements were issued. Lawyers were called.

My anger bubbled up from a place of shit is this really how we’re doing things now?! A Russian dictator invades another country so then we must cancel everything Russian, including artists? It seemed extreme. It seemed performative. How does this actually help the people who are suffering such devastation in Ukraine? If my country were being bombed and deprived and witnessing constant horrors, I doubt I would give much of a shit about an opera house on the other side of the world.

Researching the controversy unearthed a more complicated picture. According to The New York Times, Netrebko endorsed Putin in his 2012 election (a word with a loose interpretation I’m sure). She re-upped her support for him in 2017, praising Putin on Russian state media. There have been a few pro-Putin posts on her Instagram. She’s met him a few times. He’s given her some awards in return.

Then came the invasion of Ukraine. Netrebko was slated to perform in Denmark the next day when local protest led to a cancellation. Pretty soon other institutions followed. Pressure mounted for her to make a statement. Eventually she posted to her 700,000 followers on social media denouncing the war without denouncing the man behind it. In the statement she also rebutted her critics. She said, “Forcing artists, or any public figure, to voice their political opinions in public and to denounce their homeland is not right.” This was two days after the invasion began.

Her statement didn’t work for the Met’s general manager, Peter Gelb. He cancelled all future performances by the diva. Gelb, whose wife is part Ukrainian, said Netrebko “is inextricably associated with Putin…She has ideologically and in action demonstrated that over a period of years.” He added that it would be “immoral” for the Met to engage her during this time.

Fast forward to today, a short 16 months later, and Netrebko’s career freeze is thawing. She’s had concerts in Milan and Paris to great reception. In spite of some protest, her schedule is filling up again. In March of this year, an arbitrator ordered the Met to pay the soprano $200,000 for the 13 performances of hers they cancelled. In other words, the diva will be fine.

My annoyance at hearing we were cancelling a classical singer for being Russian morphed into something more nuanced and complicated. She, by all appearances, supports a dictator. This dictator seeks power and global disruption by any means. Her Russian pride feels offensive to those experiencing Russian violence and to the world left watching it. Because it is. And yet what is she, a Russian citizen, supposed to do with the eyes of Putin on her? Sure she’s a celebrated millionaire opera star but she’s not immune to retribution by a violent man. Her family back in Russia is certainly vulnerable. To denounce or not to denounce appears to be the question. Both of which carry heavy consequences.

There’s a larger conversation that goes beyond Netrebko and the Met. It goes beyond Putin and his war. It has to do with art and people who make it. It has to do with how we as consumers do or don’t make space for creators with complicated ideologies and complicated pasts. Can we really separate the art from the artist? Do we need to?

To be clear, I don’t have answers. I believe every situation exists in grey. However there are some general principles I stand by.

Firstly, I believe that art goes beyond the person creating it. As someone who makes things and puts them out into the world, I know that the moment I upload something to the internet it is no longer mine. Whatever I made now belongs to the person consuming it. Each week I get anywhere between 100 to 130 PDW readers. That means there are 130 different essays being read because there are 130 sets of eyes doing the reading. The words on the page are the same but every interpretation is different. At that point I am out of the equation. French philosopher Roland Barthes started this conversation in the 60’s with his Death of the Author theory.

Because of this separation of art from artist, the value of a work cannot be negated by the ills of its creator. The umbilical cord has been cut and the baby now lives on its own. Harvey Weinstein made amazing movies. The Cosby Show changed the narrative of Black folks in this country. The Harry Potter series got an entire generation of kids to read. Did their creators do and say some horrible things? Yes. Does that change the good that resulted from their work? That’s the question. And simply put, I don’t believe so.

I also feel that finger pointing, call outs, and cancellations are inherently selective and inevitably hypocritical. Take the Netrebko situation. The Met took a hard stance by prohibiting a Putin supporter from singing on its stage. It has the right to do so. However, the Met seems to take no issue with performing works by Wagner, a wildly antisemitic (albeit dead) composer. For decades the Met saw no problem with putting white singers in blackface to sing Aida or Otello. Stereotypes and yellow face were used for their productions of Madama Butterfly in the past. In other words, the Met is not spotless. Banning Netrebko only highlights that fact and invites claims of hypocrisy.

Institutions that are run by humans (which is all of them) are never spotless. That’s because no human is spotless. Even a well-intentioned person has marks against them, if for no other reason than the cultural conversation changes over time. What was okay before might not be okay now. And that, by and large, is a good thing. That means collectively we’ve grown and learned. Hopefully that growth has been in a more equitable direction.

I’m concerned that our current cultural climate has conflated cancellations with doing the hard practical work of making the world a more just place. That work starts first and foremost with a serious self-examination. In what ways are my actions and my beliefs contributing to the disenfranchisement of others? How am I biased? How do I personally benefit from systems of oppression? I fear that we’ve replaced that hard personal inventory, the inner work, with external performance.

And yet…

I also believe public figures are not above criticism. And they’re definitely not above the law. In fact, if you have 700,000 followers and are the 'Beyonce of Opera,’ then you have a greater responsibility to use your platform wisely. With that type of power comes a greater level of scrutiny, as should be the case. Your voice, literally and figuratively, matters more than most. Words become more important with an increase of ears listening to them.

And perhaps it’s petty of me but I rarely shed a tear over millionaires and billionaires who fall from grace. Not that I wish rich people ill (I do hope to be one some day…but it’s not looking promising). But a fall from grace with a net of financial security underneath you feels like it’ll have a soft landing. And I’m sure most poor people would take that situation over their own, scarlet letter and all.

All of these thoughts, these contradictory and complicated thoughts, mill about as a stew in my brain. They perform a dance with one another. The point of the dance, it would appear, is not to land on a righteous and concrete destination but to explore all the space nearby. Yes there’s right and wrong. But the reality (when dealing in humanness) is that most everything is a little bit of both. It mostly depends on where you’re standing. To Ukrainians, Netrebko is the enemy. To Russians, she’s a hero. To opera lovers, she’s Beyonce. And to most PDW readers, she’s someone you didn’t know existed until now.

And that’s the beauty inside the chaos. There’s nuance, complexity, and gradations. Being human is really complicated. So the next time someone is banned or shunned or shamed or “cancelled,” let’s look a little deeper. Let’s attempt a 360 view, one that attempts to take in their inherent worth and the harm they have caused. Let’s hold them accountable for their actions while still offering grace. Because at the end of the day, that’s the kind of treatment I hope to receive. Especially if I ever become the Beyonce of Substack.

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