One diva, and four pretenders to her throne

James Miller Miller on Tap

Some of this is my own fault. I've been watching VH1 (the thinking man's E! network.)

I don't know if everyone else's life is as bankrupt and tragic as mine, but over the past year, I've formed this unhealthy fascination with everything having to do with VH1, with the exception of the fashion programming, which is clearly aimed at fat women and men who collect little figurines.

This past week, the "MTV Afterbirth Network" held something called "Diva Week," meaning that for one week they would drop their "Grease" obsession and concentrate on five female musicians of such surpassing talent and inspiration that, in the intellectual esteem of the VH1 marketing department, they earned the appellation "diva."

And they are: Gloria "You got some 'splainin' to do" Estefan, Mariah "Still a little too much self-respect to be an actual porn star" Carey, Shania "Mark" Twain, Celine "Patrick Roy" Dion, and the tragically misplaced Aretha Franklin.

And people make such a fuss over Jessye Norman.

The problem here is not that they wanted to take some time out to honor female artists, a noble effort in itself. Nor is the problem that they wasted a whole week on mostly mediocre, image-driven starlets. Actually, that is the problem.

What we have here is a classic case of image preceding talent and merit, or worse yet, becoming synonymous with it. What are we really looking at here?

Estefan: Proof that pop singers can take even the most interesting and vibrant kind of music (Cuban) and turn it into a 12-song aluminum turd for 26-year-old investment bankers to listen to on their way to work. She survived a nearly fatal bus accident and still performs while Stevie Ray Vaughn dies in a helicopter crash before his flavor saver gets a chance to turn grey. Given this, it would seem Gloria's only reason for existing is to prove that God takes the best for himself.

Dion: To be fair, she is starting out with a handicap. She's French Canadian, and as such, is an amalgamation of the two most backward countries in the world. Her one redeeming quality is that she still has enough of an accent to conjure up images of some of the more comical post-game interviews on "Hockey Night from Canada." As for her musical qualifications, apart from being the Canadian Barbara Striesand (a joke that writes itself), she is the lucky musician to be dragged along in the wake of "Titanic." Which either means she'll spend the rest of her career singing love songs about drowned hermaphrodites or will just fade into that kind of Grace Jones sort of obscurity. Let's pray.

Twain: This country star is responsible for singlehandedly coaching thousands of Iowa farm boys through puberty, courtesy of the CMT all-cleavage policy. Look for her upcoming duet with Buddy Whackett.

Carey: Isn't it hard to take a musician seriously when they routinely show more of their breasts than Cattleman's Meat Market? Again, I'm not basing this on anything empirical, but there is something vaguely unholy about a woman who appears in a video with Bone Thugs and a riding crop. Ick.

Besides, if you look really closely at her, you can see that she's only a frizzy hairdo and a coat of blue, forget-me-not, Chevette-driving eye shadow from being a dead ringer for that "Sweetheart of the Bowling Alley" usually seen pulling hair on Jerry Springer.

Lady Soul Herself: I'm not sure exactly why Ms. Franklin has fallen so far from grace, but respect for her legacy prevents me from commenting on the state of her career and music today. Let's just say that after 1980 or so, things get a little ugly.

She is, however, the only one on the list that deserves all of the adulation heaped upon the group as a whole. Blessed with one of the most powerful and emotive voices of the latter half of this century, Aretha can slide effortlessly between the most authentic gospel and the earthiest Atlantic R&B. She is truly exceptional and worthy of praise and veneration. The other four are ugly, trendy, rapacious usurpers.

What chaps me so badly about the use of the world "diva" is that we are equating popularity and physical appeal with talent, and nobody benefits from something like that. Do you think Mariah Carey would have the same kind of career if she looked like Drew Carey? Do you think a cleavage monster like her does anything to benefit the cause of women in music anywhere?

I suppose it's Pollyannaish of me to expect that the music industry and all its TV children should respect and promote talent instead of marketability. I don't care. The line has to start somewhere. Aretha Franklin is gifted almost beyond compare; Gloria Estefan and Celine Dion are bad. They make boring, flaccid music whose only purpose is to move records and promote movies.

Don't place your faith in pretenders. All hail the queen.

- James Miller can be reached over e-mail at jamespm@umich.edu

04-15-98