I was recently among a curious Melbourne audience who turned out to see a hologram of the long-dead soprano Maria Callas singing with the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra.
The stage was moodily lit, with 30 musicians in shadows. Loud reverberating footsteps foreshadowed Callas’ entrance and indicated potential humanness. When she eventually appeared centre stage, the audience gasped. Ripples of laughter followed when she and conductor Daniel Schlosberg played out a manufactured exchange of acknowledgement.
The Callas hits were performed, from Bellini’s Casta Diva from Norma to Bizet’s L'amour est un oiseau rebelle from Carmen. But there were limitations to the success. While the live orchestral sounds filled Hamer Hall, the vocals were clearly directed from the speakers, rather than the hologram at centre stage.
