Where you find a diva, you’ll likely find a businessperson, a self-starter, a hustler, extending her creativity and occupying space in the overwhelmingly male worlds of the music and movie industries.
Divas have always been able to use the fruits of their talents as a means of escape from a life of limited opportunity and expectations or to an alternate reality where their choices are their own. Their power lies in the freedom to choose.
We meet our contemporary divas in a world that, in many ways, is much better equipped to receive them than ever. We are in the midst of a boom of cultural hashtag slogans for female success: #LeanIn, #GirlBoss, #BossBitch, etc. are all calls for female empowerment, achieved, so the thinking goes, by adopting typically ‘masculine’ practices while asserting the freedom to represent and express yourself in whatever way you choose.
While divas of the past would have been allowed to display their wealth, it was frowned upon to display the manners or language of their male counterparts in polite society; today, it can all be done in public and out loud. Even the word ‘diva’ itself has now been added to the lexicon as a term relating to female empowerment, success and entrepreneurial spirit.
With their outrageous amounts of talent, vision, hard work and sheer moxie, some of those divas from the last 70 years have taken their destinies by the scruff of the neck, pushing past what’s expected to forge a new future for themselves and consequently, those that follow, are celebrated. These divas have been able to channel their success into something larger than themselves, their sound or their voices.
Here are some of the most incredible divas throughout the years…
Dolly Parton’s journey might well be the definition of a rags-to-riches story. Born and raised in a one-room cabin in Tennessee and the fourth of 12 children, she was playing guitar by the age of six. Signing a recording contract at 19, she released her first country single, Dumb Blonde, in 1966. Her star continued to rise, setting the stage for a pop-pivot in the mid-1970s, which introduced her to a whole new audience. In 1980 she starred in the comedy film 9 to 5, securing her an Oscar nomination and sending her fame into orbit.
A self-styled ‘Backwoods Barbie’, she sings about the hardship and realities of a woman’s ‘down-home’ life while looking like a pop-art version of ‘exaggerated womanhood’. Her image worked for sales but led to frustration behind the scenes. Nashville and country music were and generally remain hotbeds of traditional conservative values – a ‘good woman’s’ place was rarely on stage, and never in the boardroom.
‘Dumb Blonde’ seemed to be the broad perception of her within the music business, and Parton’s experience of the music industry was one of underestimation and diminution: the age-old questioning of the legitimacy and authenticity of a woman’s art and business nous based on her manner, her look. The broadsides came from women as well as men. A notorious 1977 interview by Barbara Walters questioned whether Parton worried about others thinking she was a joke due to the way she looked:
“People have thought the joke was on me, but it’s actually been on the public. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I can change it any time ... I am sure of myself as a person, I’m sure of my talent…”
Like Marilyn Monroe before her, Parton utilized this blonde bombshell persona to infiltrate spaces of male power, making some prudent decisions along the way, starting her own publishing company at 20 and retaining publishing rights to the vast majority of her songs.
Self-expression was never a challenge for Barbra Streisand, the plucky all-rounder with an almost incomparable tick-list of talent – all singing, dancing, acting AND directing. Streisand is the complete Hollywood package, albeit with a working-class Brooklyn accent.
Winning an Oscar for Funny Girl in 1968 went some way to legitimizing Streisand’s place in what was still very much the ‘old boys’ club’ of the Hollywood system. Further successful films followed, but it wasn’t until 1983 with Yentl that Streisand would make history. Despite her proven success, she had to fight for over a decade to get the film made: she was too inexperienced, too young, too female. Yentl saw Streisand become the first woman to star in, write, produce and direct her own movie. She won the Golden Globe for best director that year but didn’t even receive a nomination for the same category at the Oscars, allegedly due to her ‘aggression’:
"That word ‘aggressive’ ... We’re just measured by a different standard. He’s ‘committed.’ She’s ‘obsessed.’ It’s been said that a man’s reach should exceed his grasp. Why can’t that be true of a woman?"
Until 2020, Streisand remained the only woman to receive a Golden Globe Best Director award.
Then there was the issue of her looks. She was repeatedly asked to ‘consider’ cosmetic surgery on a nose that was too ‘ethnic’ and, therefore, did not fit the look of a bankable leading lady. Streisand refused – staunch in her resolution to not assimilate or fall prey to the whim of the 1960s All-American beauty standard: sweet, dainty, picture-perfect. She embodied a new, revolutionary image of sexuality that welcomed those who had so far been kept out of the room, kicking open the doors for alternative representations of femininity in the mainstream.
Visibility matters; but how to fight for representation when you’re concealed by design? Lata Mangeshkar (1929–2022) was India’s leading Bollywood playback singer – during an 80-year career her recorded vocals would accompany the actions of the heroines of the Bollywood screen. She was beloved in her home nation, known as the ‘Nightingale of India’ – the soundtrack to decades of star-crossed lovers and family feuds on screen.
Her voice made such an impact that she was credited publicly, almost unheard of in an industry where playback singers were expected to be heard but not seen. Her success had inadvertently sparked a revolution in the playback world – the voices that drove the movies that supported the industry as a whole would now be recognized in their own right. She also ‘initiated the conversation about royalties for playback singers’, insisting that they were given due royalty payments. Like Edith Piaf (1915–1963) in France, Mangeshkar shouldered the honour of being the voice of her nation. Part of the cultural identity of India, she was arguably the most influential Indian singer in popular memory. In 2001 she was awarded India’s highest civilian award, the Bharat Ratna. She will be remembered for progressing the cause of the hitherto hidden female artists in Bollywood.
Some divas understand the power of hiding, of withholding a ‘little something’. Adele’s appeal sits very much in the camp of the unpretentious and the authentic, with sweeping, cathartic songs that manage to bridge jazz and soul styles with the outlook, beats and awareness of popular music now.
Adele does not fit the mould for the modern pop diva – neither figuratively nor literally (perhaps predictably a lot – too much – has been written on her size and weight) – she is humble yet brash and resolutely British in her banter.
Adele follows in the lineage of divas who have drawn power from their ability to withdraw from the all-seeing public eye simply – stars such as Sade and Kate Bush – whose careers not only survived their absence but in most cases were boosted, and who crucially had the autonomy to take these periods of retreat. She put it like this following the release of her single ‘Hello’ (2015), her return after a three-year hiatus: “I’m just going to sing now because I want to, and I’ll make records when I want to and not because someone is forcing me to do it ... I’d fire them if they tried!”
Her $90 million move to Sony Music in 2016 was the biggest record deal for a British recording artist ever. Adele’s astronomical rise has been unique among her peers, eschewing the trappings of contemporary pop artists, sidestepping endorsement contracts, product placement in music videos and movie roles, and without a significant social media presence. In fact, in this sense, one could argue that she is peerless. One thing remains the same: Adele is not writing on demand. She writes because she must.
Janet Jackson was born into music. Before arriving at her current diva form, Jackson had to survive the various stages of her initiation. A child TV star in the shadow of her wildly successful brothers (The Jackson Five), she was occasionally made to join them in appearances as the token cutie-pie female sibling. The transition to solo stardom was complicated. Asserting independence, finding one’s own voice and point of view when you’ve been sold as part of a package wasn’t easy. By the release of her third album, Control, in 1986, she was primed and ready.
The album packed a mighty punch, signalling Jackson embracing autonomy over her career, image and musical direction. Her presentation was powerful, with utilitarian, militaristic outfits that were more a call to arms than a celebration of sexuality. Its impact was substantial: sales, awards and accolades followed but it was in its influence that its impact was really felt. Musically it was an experimental mixture of pop, R&B and rap that hitherto had not been heard in mainstream pop. Significantly, Janet was a Black woman operating on her own terms. A role model for Black girls – a contemporary of Madonna but crucially a visible and proud African American woman who spoke to Black pride, liberation, frank sexuality and female independence.
Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814 followed in 1989, this time a more pointedly politically charged album whose lyrics were socially conscious, tackling topical issues including social inequality, racism and substance abuse. The album saw her receive a Best Producer Grammy nomination, the first woman ever to be recognised as such.
Beyoncé was already impossibly famous by the time she officially went solo. Spending her youth and early adulthood in Destiny’s Child, one of the most successful female groups of all time, had seasoned her for fame and furnished her with a ready-made fanbase who were ready to hear more. But perhaps not even she could have predicted what would follow. Embracing the loaded freedom of being a solo performer, Beyoncé was faced with the possibilities available to you when you’re beholden to no one but yourself: “I just wanted people to really hear me, hear my voice and my tastes. For the first time, I wasn’t afraid, I didn’t feel limited.”
The release of Beyoncé’s Lemonade in 2016 revolutionised the contemporary pop landscape. This visual album, a first, wove music videos into a narrative film that not only sounded great but was visually accomplished and breathed fresh life into the album format in a world of streaming and on-demand content. Lemonade is a tribute to independence, Black history, her own Southern heritage and a reflection on the current political and social climate, as seen through the lens of an African American woman. The lyrics championed self-empowerment, often subverting masculine/feminine relationship tropes, with Beyoncé recast as the benevolent breadwinner and arbiter of worth in the partnership.
Beyoncé sings the gospel of self-empowerment to her fans, of being an active participant in your own life, of overcoming your insecurities and circumstances to achieve greatness. She tells her fans to make lemonade when life gives you lemons, and they listen. In 2022 this messaging has been reworked in a paean to the possibilities of ecstatic joy, freedom of expression and communal experience with the release of her seventh solo album, Renaissance. Following the album, a remix of the first single, ‘Break my Soul’, was released – this time a diva collaboration extraordinaire with Madonna, reworking the single with Madonna’s 1990 hit, ‘Vogue’. In it Beyoncé recasts Madonna’s original who’s who list of Old Hollywood legends as Black music pioneers and rising stars – a shout out to her influences and influencees, reframing a modern pop classic as a tribute to the music that made her, and the music made from her.
Rihanna is second only to Madonna in the ranks of the biggest-selling female performers of all time and was recently certified as the music world’s first solo female billionaire.
As one of the superstars of the new digital age, Rihanna has taken the Madonna blueprint – openness to change and a commitment to outspoken authenticity, collaboration and provocation – and reworked it for the twenty-first century, reshaping it in her own style. However, as a non-American, Black performer, Rihanna was not setting off from the same starting block.
Like Madonna, Rihanna’s sense of chameleonic reinvention, of the now and the next, infuses her creative output. Flitting between genres and styles, her unpredictability has kept her relevant and at the forefront of the modern pop music zeitgeist. She is hard to pin down, whether musically or aesthetically: a freedom to explore and a rule against repetition guides her process and aligns with her branding. She trademarked her surname, Fenty, in 2014 and launched the first company bearing the name, Fenty Beauty, in 2017.
As CEO, Rihanna kick-started a revolution of accessibility within the cosmetics industry, creating a line of foundation shades that catered to the historically under-served people of colour who were used to the bare minimum from most other established brands. She has since added lingerie (Savage x Fenty) and skincare (Fenty Skin) businesses to her empire. Rihanna walked the walk when it came to diversity and inclusion, challenging notions of what constitutes a model body, a sexy body, a body worth adorning or desiring.
Beyond the deals, the contracts and the empires we are left with voices – divas using them to entertain, to inspire, to provoke conversation, to move culture forward, to create communities.
Divas don’t just create art, they create contemporary culture. These individuals have made an impact that has gone beyond music and directly impacts lives – driving social change and acting as beacons of potential. A diva is a solo performer who stands on the shoulders of giants – who builds on the victories of the fights of their forebears, leaving in their wake new possibilities for the divas that follow.
Extracted and condensed from Run The World: Status, Power, Freedom by Veronica Castro, as part of DIVA by Kate Bailey, which is available to buy at https://www.vam.ac.uk/shop.
Of course ‘divas’ are almost always women.
