Salome

They said it was by Strauss, so I was expecting nice Viennese ball music and floaty frocks. Hmm, I think I've done that 'joke' to death.

Richard Strauss, after a German translation of Oscar Wilde's French play.

Disturbing is all I can say. And chilling, and macabre and grisly.

Only an hour and three quarters, and that's probably enough. I don't really know the opera, although I have seen it a couple of times on DVD. Definitely one to be seen live. This was a compelling production. There has been criticism that because the stage was divided into two levels, upstairs and downstairs, people in the Amphitheatre missed a lot of the action. I was in the Amphitheatre, albeit towards the front, and I didn't feel there was much to miss. It might be a case of 'you don't miss what you haven't got'.

So, despite there being an upstairs where the posh people were dining, most of the action took place downstairs, in the kitchen. I found the kitchen to be evocative and forbidding, dirty floor and a real cold feel. And, held prisoner in the cistern (ie the drain) was John the Baptist, or Jokanaan. Three main movements, the compelling duet between Salome and Jokanaan, when she tried to seduce him; the Dance of the Seven Veils, transformed into Dance of the Seven Rooms, achieved by having a set consisting of doors that periodically moved from left to right across stage to depict Salome dancing for Herod and then fleeing to the next room.

And finally, where Salome demanded her price for having danced for Herod. She would not accept jewellery, or peacocks, or half his kingdom. All she wanted was Jokanaan's head. Her mother egged her on, enraged by his accusation that her marriage was incestuous (she married her dead husband's brother). But Salome was not interested in that. She had touched his body and was not satisfied; she had touched his hair and was not satisfied. She needed to touch his lips.

So the Executioner aka a Human Statue from the Piazza took off his overcoat and descended naked into the cistern, to re-emerge blood-soaked and carrying the head of Jokanaan's. This set off Salome's utter debauchery and she caressed and kissed John's head, her white slip becoming blood-soaked, too. Her sexual arousal was obvious and clearly insatiable. She kissed his lips, she lay kissing him as she would have lain if she could have made love with his body. All around, the onlookers were disgusted, not least her mother and step-father. Disgusted but mesmerised.

Disturbing. She showed that she knew no shame, there was no limit to her debauchery and her self-debasement. Prior to this, and particularly in the Dance of the Seven Doors, there had been hints (big, unsubtle hints) that she had been abused by Herod for years. A possible explanation for her lack of self-awareness. That and that she was clearly spoilt and indulged, getting everything she wanted.

I thought Nadja Michael was fabulous. I have read the reviews that commented that her top was a bit weak, and I won't argue, but I liked everything else about her voice, the tone, the timbre, the pitch, and a lovely creamy sound at the bottom of the range. Michael Volle was impressive as Jokanaan, and although he wasn't around for long, I liked Joseph Kaiser enough as Narraboth to make me want to hear him again. There weren't any obvious weak links in the cast, the full details of which are copied-and-pasted below the fold.

Strangely, I don't really remember the music. I don't know the opera very well. On the way out I overheard three teenage boys. for one, it was his first opera. The other two opined it was a strange 'first opera' because he wouldn't be going out humming the tunes. True, but, actually, I would think, a great first opera for a teenage boy. Nothing silly or trivial in that story line. I do recall the orchestra being raucous, and enjoying the percussion. At times maybe too raucous, occasionally drowning out the singers. But it didn't drag. This morning I had not been looking forward to seeing it, but I'm glad I did. I might not even have booked if it wasn't that David McVicar was directing. And he didn't let me down.

Lots of pictures here

The Southbank show on Sunday (2310, ITV1) will document the two years David McVicar spent creating this

When it started I found it irritating that I couldn't properly hear the singers, and certainly couldn't see them. A man wandered onto the stage wearing a head-set and waving his arms around. The music stopped, and the curtains opened slightly to hint at the set. The chap said "Ladies and Gentleman I'm very sorry but we're going to have to start again because the set tracking is stuck..." (or words to that effect). Some moments later "Take it away Phil, it's all yours!", telling Philippe Jordan he could start stick-waving again.

Beforehand, I had surrendered my coat at the cloakroom, and turned round to find standing behind me someone pretty senior from work. I don't know him very well, but I gave him rather a hard time in a seminar a few months ago and ever since he's greeted me warmly round the office. So this evening, it was warm greetings all round, each of us registering a mild surprise at seeing the other, followed by slight amused embarrassment that we each knew the other was attending a somewhat pervy disturbingly erotic opera, slightly incongruous from our work acquaintanceship.

Performers

Conductor
Philippe Jordan

Salome
Nadja Michael

Herodias
Michaela Schuster

Page to Herodias
Daniela Sindram

Herod
Thomas Moser

Narraboth
Joseph Kaiser

Jokanaan
Michael Volle

First Nazarene
Iain Paterson

Second Nazarene
Julian Tovey

First Soldier
Christian Sist

Second Soldier
Alan Ewing

First Jew
Adrian Thompson

Second Jew
Martyn Hill

Third Jew
Hubert Francis

Fourth Jew
Ji-Min Park*

Fifth Jew
Jeremy White

A Cappadocian
Vuyani Mlinde*

Slave
Pumeza Matshikiza*