The word 'diva' is thrown about a fair bit in pop circles, with a string of self-centred starlets making a career of behaving in a manner befitting 17th century European aristocracy.
But we should remember that the word 'diva' originated in the heady world of opera, and nowadays it's the gents who are indulging in behaviour befitting the term.This week, Milan's esteemed La Scala opera house transformed into a kind of circus when French-born tenor Roberto Alagna was booed on stage by a small pocket of the notoriously critical Milanese audience, some of whom had paid 2000 euros for their seats. For the first time in the 230-year history of La Scala, the tenor stormed off stage, leaving a costumeless replacement to finish the performance.
What Alagna mat have forgotten, however, is that these days the business of opera is far bigger than the personalities who inhabit it. The tenor - who has been described as the new Pavarotti - fully expected La Scala to support his petulance. Instead, the opera house has refused to allow him to return to the stage, citing breach of contract.
An outraged Alagna, who had been performing in Franco Zeffirelli's lavish production of Verdi's 'Aida', then claimed to have been "treated like a monster".
"I went there to sing, to give the audience joy and pleasure," Alagna said. "But what was I supposed to do when some people started booing? What if they had thrown stones at me or some crazy person had attacked me? La Scala should have protected me, the show should have been suspended."
The clearly deluded tenor went on, "Instead they carried on as if nothing had happened. After all, John Lennon ended up being killed..."
Still, Alagna is a man who holds his audience in high regard. After claiming "the audience is waiting for me," the 43-year-old appeared out the front of the theatre on Thursday evening as the show inside went on without him. He then launched into a version of Puccini's 'Madame Butterfly', in a passage containing the words, "Farewell, flowered sanctuary of happiness and love."
Then, in a dramatic finale befitting the 21st century, Alagna captured his last memory of La Scala with his camera phone. "I came to take a souvenir," he told the ANSA news agency, "my last happy memory of La Scala because I don't know when I will see it again..."
