A conversation with Caterina D’Amico, curator of the exhibition
Interview by Eugenia Lollini (MA ’25, Museum Studies)
I. Why Costume Matters
Why costume? What makes costume exhibitions so powerful?
Costume exhibitions are very complex. They work on different levels at the same time. Costume is fundamentally different from most museum objects because it is inseparable from the human body. A painting, a sculpture, even an architectural fragment exists independently of us. A garment does not. It only truly comes alive when it is imagined on someone — moving and inhabited by the wearer.
Because of this, a costume can communicate immediately – through material, color, silhouette – but it can also carry many deeper layers.
I often think about classic Disney films. A child can enjoy them right away, without understanding everything. An adult, instead, perceives many more nuances and implications. Costume works in a similar way. It doesn’t have a single interlocutor. It can speak to different publics at once, each on their own level.
What does a garment communicate beyond its beauty?
A garment always has an intrinsic value. It can be beautiful or ugly, well made or poorly made. The fabric can be precious, the embroidery refined.
But when you place a garment within a social context, it acquires another layer of meaning. Costume tells us how a society lives. It speaks about the body – about gender, class, status, climate, morality. It reveals whether a culture is restrictive or permissive, conservative or liberated. Fashion becomes anthropology. Costume becomes history written on the body.
How does theatrical costume differ from everyday dress?
Theatrical costume is not real clothing. It is a costume designed to tell a story, to evoke meaning.
It must define a character immediately – often from far away. It has to help the audience understand who that character is: their temperament, their emotional world, their dramatic role. In opera, these categories are not subtle. Tragic, comic, romantic – these are clear archetypes. Costume exists to make those archetypes visible.
Why is opera such a powerful space for costume?
Opera does not primarily tell complex stories. It tells emotions. Operatic characters are not psychologically intricate in the way theatrical characters can be. They are built to express very strong, very clear feelings – love, jealousy, fear, or pain.
Because of this, everything in opera is amplified. The voice is amplified. The music is amplified. Therefore, the costume must be amplified as well. Colors are stronger. Proportions are exaggerated. Jewelry is oversized. Costume becomes a visual extension of the voice.
What is the relationship between voice, character, and costume?
In opera, voice already defines identity. A tenor, a soprano, a baritone – each one signals a different type of character. Costume must support this immediately.
There is a story that stage and film director Franco Zeffirelli liked to tell. During a rehearsal, a tenor had been dressed like a simple peasant, indistinguishable from the others. The conductor stopped and said: “No. He is the tenor. If I don’t see him, I don’t hear him.”
That is exactly the point. Costume renders emotion visible.
II. The Exhibition: Maria Callas, Archetypes, Artists
What makes these costumes inseparable from Maria Callas?
These costumes were made for one person: Maria Callas.
Callas was extraordinary not only because of her voice, but because she could inhabit completely different musical and dramatic characters. Before her, these roles were not usually sung by the same person. Designers and directors trusted her completely. She had no fear of complexity.
These are not generic costumes. They are designed with her body, discipline, and intelligence in mind. They exist because she existed.
Why did you structure the exhibition around four operatic archetypes?
The exhibition is built around four archetypes: tragic, dramatic, romantic, and comic.
The costumes come from four operas — Iphigénie en Tauride, Anna Bolena, La Sonnambula, and Il Turco in Italia. Each one represents a different musical language, a different vocality, a different emotional world. Costume allows these differences to be understood immediately, even by someone who does not know opera.
How did designers like Nicola Benois and Piero Tosi shape these worlds?
Nicola Benois and Piero Tosi represent two very different traditions.
Benois brought a deep theatrical and painterly culture, rooted in European stage design. Tosi, on the other hand, came from cinema. He was a master of reconstruction, but also of poetry. In La Sonnambula, he does not recreate reality. He recreates the world of romantic ballet — a stylized, dreamlike space.
The costume is not historically “true.” It is emotionally true.
Why did you choose to show costume sketches rather than performance photographs?
Most performance photographs from the 1950s are black and white. The costumes are not.
I wanted to preserve a sense of color, imagination, and atmosphere. The sketches allow the costume to exist in a drawn, imagined world rather than an archival one. The costume stands on a mannequin – it is already abstract. Placing it against a painted background felt more coherent than placing it against photographic reality.
What do you hope visitors take away from this exhibition?
I hope visitors understand that costume is not secondary. It speaks its own language.
Theatrical costume is made of signs. Many of them are perceived unconsciously. You may not be able to explain what you are seeing, but you are feeling it. Costume guides emotion, meaning, and then attention.
That is its power.
Caterina d’Amico is an Italian cultural producer, scholar, and curator whose work spans theater, cinema, radio, and documentary exhibitions. Since 1976, she has conceived and curated more than thirty exhibitions related to the performing arts, including notable projects on design and fashion, presented in Italy and internationally. Throughout her career, she has directed leading cultural institutions such as the Centro Sperimentale di Cinematografia, Rai Cinema, the Casa del Cinema in Rome, and the Accademia Nazionale d’Arte Drammatica. D’Amico is also recognized for her publications on theater, costume, and film — especially her studies on Luchino Visconti — and her collaboration on Martin Scorsese’s My Voyage to Italy (1999). She is currently the director of several major performing arts and cinema archives in Italy, including the Fondazione Franco Zeffirelli.