Deborah Voigt Behind the Veil
Richard Strauss's Salome (1905) helped set the tone for iconoclastic opera in the 20th century. Shattering most of the genre's conventions — formulaic plots, vocal characterization, propriety — this tale of lust, incest, and decollation may still shock some viewers, but it has become a modern classic. Although Washington National Opera last staged it as recently as 2002, Washington audiences should be pleased to have another chance to hear it, in an excellent concert version offered by the National Symphony Orchestra this past weekend. The singers in the main roles were all top-notch, which is what makes this opera so rewarding.
Strauss adapted the libretto himself, based on Hedwig Lachmann's literal translation of Oscar Wilde's shocking French play. Using the Gospel story of the death of John the Baptist and other sources, Wilde made the Biblical story into a tale of dangerous sexual desire, with the young girl Salome lusting after the pure prophet of God. When Jochanaan (as he is called in German) denies her, Salome appeals to her stepfather, Herod, who holds the Baptist prisoner. If she will dance for him, Herod swears, he will give her whatever she wants, up to one-half of his kingdom. Salome performs the Dance of the Seven Veils, at the end of which she is left naked, and requests the head of Jochanaan. She holds the Baptist's severed head, now able to sate her desire, and kisses it. Horrified by the spectacle, Herod orders his soldiers to crush Salome with their shields. Curtain.
Deborah Voigt comes to Washington now, after her triumph as Salome at the Lyric Opera of Chicago last fall. Much ink has been spilled over Voigt's dramatic weight loss (including some virtual ink in my preview last week), but this woman is a star because she can sing, and that is what she did on Saturday afternoon at the second performance at the Kennedy Center. In a lovely gown (red, appropriately), Voigt soared, shrieked, and growled her way through a beautifully sung and eerily characterized performance as the decadent princess. She was matched in all ways by the imperious, apocalyptic singing of bass-baritone Alan Held as Jochanaan. In the tradition of these semi-staged concert performances, the singers entered and exited at the appropriate times and attempted to give some impression of the action from their places. When the Baptist was supposed to be imprisoned in the cistern (normally underneath the stage), Held stood at the rear right corner of the stage, behind the percussion players. No matter where he was, his voice carried like thunder, making his upcoming appearance as Wotan in the Washington National Opera's new production of Die Walküre even more keenly anticipated.
Photo by Dan Rest, Deborah Voigt in the Lyric Opera of Chicago’s production of Salome
As Herod and Herodias, tenor Donald Litaker and mezzo-soprano Jane Henschel were a fine pair, bickering at one another and displaying their petty neuroses for all to see. Tenor Jason Collins was an emotionally appealing Narraboth, making it doubly shameful that no one even notices his suicide, out of despair because his love for Salome is not returned. Later, Herod trips over his body and observes callously that he did not order the man's death. Mezzo-soprano Jennifer Hines sang well in the trouser role of the page, the teenage boy who is in love with Narraboth (that naughty Oscar Wilde). For reasons of space, the large assortment of supporting singers was mostly placed on the balcony. The five Jews and two Nazarenes made a fine cacophony as they argued over whether Jesus was the Messiah. Of the two soldiers, bass Philip Skinner was the stronger voice.
Leonard Slatkin led the National Symphony, at its full size because of the demands of Strauss's generously proportioned score, through an excellent performance. The swells of sound called for at dramatic points were thrilling, supported by the crushing sound of the brass. When the trumpet takes up John the Baptist's soaring theme, it gives me goosebumps every time. There was fine solo playing from concertmaster Nurit Bar-Josef, creepy contrabassoon solos from Lewis Lipnick, and tense chirping sounds from the double bass principals (presumably Robert Oppelt and Richard Barber) as Salome waits expectantly for the execution to take place. The wind soloists also made my spine tingle with the bird-call theme of Salome's desire, which percolates through the orchestra many times. When Salome first sings that theme, at the words "Er ist schrecklich. Er ist wirklich schrecklich" (He is horrible. He is truly horrible), Voigt combined the character's sense of disgust on the surface with a wicked grin that showed her perverse delight in the pale, emaciated body of the Baptist. You are advised not to miss what has been the high point of the NSO's season thus far.
Tickets remain for the final performance of Salome, this evening (January 22, 8 p.m.), in the Kennedy Center Concert Hall. Full-time students may still be able to buy $10 tickets, through the Attend! program, for tonight's performance. Make sure that you use the German pronunciation of the title (ZAH-lo-may) and tell them that DCist sent you.