I know how to write headlines, don’t I?
Friday night, the night before my 48th birthday, Marshall took me to the Milwaukee Florentine Opera to see Richard Strauss’ “Salome” – one of the most incredible operas ever composed. It’s also an opera which turned the world on its ear when it was performed; in fact, after its premiere performance at the Metropolitan Opera in 1906, the board of directors met in emergency session and voted to cancel all of the remaining performances. It’s not surprising when one considers the opera’s plot:
Salome, the teen-age stepdaughter of King Herod, has fallen in love with the imprisoned John the Baptist, but he angrily refuses her advances. To secure the cooperation of Herod, who fears what the people might do if something should happen to the prophet, Salome agrees to dance her famous Dance of the Seven Veils for him, but only if he is willing then to grant her whatever she requests. He agrees, Salome dances, and then demands the head of John the Baptist on a silver platter. Herod eventually agrees to that ghastly request, and when the grisly gift is presented to Salome, she proceeds to sing an ecstatic 13-minute aria to it before Herod orders his guards to kill Salome.
It’s not exactly “Guys and Dolls,” to say the least. It’s a powerful, horrific story- and Strauss’ fascinating score is dripping with sensuality and evil – and the whole work is one of the most powerful in the whole repertoire. Whenever I show this to my Exploring Music class at school, there’s almost always somebody who asks (quite understandably) WHO WOULD WANT TO WATCH SOMETHING THIS GROSS?!?!? I always answer that people watch Salome for the same reason that other people go to horror movies- for the intensity of the experience. And I also think of something once said by bass Jerome Hines, a long-time Met star (he sang lead roles there for forty-plus seasons) who was also a devout Christian. As a bass, he was often called upon to perform the role of the devil or other evil characters. When asked how he could do that, he said that it was important for people to see what real evil is. Salome certainly does that.
I was especially excited to see this production because I got to interview two of the lead singers- Erika Sunnegardh, who sang Salome, and Joyce Castle, who sang Herodias (the mother of Salome) for WGTD – and they both raved about this production and the whole cast. Sunnegardh, a Swedish American soprano, actually made the front page of the New York Times when she made a surprise debut at the Metropolitan Opera several seasons ago, filling in at the last minute for an ill colleague for a Saturday afternoon broadcast of Fidelio. She seemed like an overnight sensation, coming out of nowhere- and indeed, she was almost 40 years old when she made this historic leap into the big time. . . but she likes to think now that all these years she spent waitressing and studying have left her with a beautifully fresh voice and an especially solid technique. (A lot of other big voiced singers get rushed into busy careers that wear them out prematurely. She seems to have escaped this fate by being such a late bloomer.)
I was hoping this would be good performance – but I had no idea it was going to be as thrilling as it was. Sunnegardh absolutely knocked my socks off- singing expressively with a beautiful sound that also sounded young. (One of the trickiest things about this role is that Salome is supposed to be a teen age girl – and it is SO hard to find someone who sounds that young while being loud enough to soar over a Strauss-sized orchestra.) She sang so gently and lyrically in the early scenes, and then when it came time to pour out huge sound in the final scene, she blew the roof off of the place. So did Mark Doss, a former colleague of mine from the Lyric Opera Center, who portrayed John the Baptist. He was incredible and it was really amazing to think that I sang the Count to his Figaro 23 years ago.
Ah, now a word about that intriguing headline. The famous dance of the seven veils supposedly involves Salome taking off one veil after another until she is completely veil-less, so to speak. Once upon a time, it was quite common for the singer to slip offstage and for a dance double to come onstage in their place to do the dance- but nowadays that kind of substitution is all but unheard of. In this production, Salome does walk offstage – and then a couple of minutes later a woman came onstage draped in veils including one over her head, completely obscuring her face. It looked very much like we had a dancer out there- especially when she started moving- but a couple of minutes later that veil came off and it was Ms. Sunnegardh herself. And by the very end of the dance, she was, shall we say, completely “veil-less.”
We are talking about a disturbing trend here. Several years ago, my first time attending a performance at the Metropolitan Opera was “Salome” – with Marshall . . . and that Salome, Karita Mattila (coincidentally, the soprano who got sick and allowed Sunnegardh her heralded Met debut) was also veil-less at the end of the dance. . . the first time in Met history that a Salome had dispensed with the traditional body stocking and gone au natural. And we were there for the opening night of the performance, so we saw the very very very first veil-less Salome at the Metropolitan Opera. Granted it was for about half a second, so it was hardly a Hugh Hefner moment- but I think it’s interesting to realize that opera is not all about powdered wigs and evening gowns. At least not when the opera in question is “Salome.” Anyway, I promise that tomorrow’s blog entry will be rated G. . .
pictured: not a great photograph, but it does capture Erika Sunnegardh in her solo curtain call at the end of the performance, accepting the rapturous ovation of the audience. Three seconds after I snapped this picture, a PAC usher was at my side to inform me that cameras were forbidden inside the auditorium. Oops.
Funny postscript- Halfway home from Milwaukee, I realized that my camera was no longer in my coat pocket, and I realized that I must have left it behind me somehow, most likely when that usher threatened to lead me off in handcuffs. (Actually she was nicer than that, but pretty firm.) On my way back from Madison today, I stopped by the PAC to see if a camera had been turned in. . . and indeed it had been! It was a little bit weird to ask about this at the security desk, since I was in effect admitting that I had a forbidden camera in the auditorium in the first place. (It was one step up from reporting that I had left a bag of cocaine under my seat. Not something to be proud of, to say the least.) Anyway, the camera was returned, with my law-breaking photo intact- and for as blurry and distant as it is, it serves as a potent reminder of what an incredible performance this was and how thankful I was for this birthday present- and thankful, too, that my wonderful wife let me do this. Actually, she’s just as thankful that I didn’t make her come along. She’s pretty sure she wouldn’t have liked it- and I’m pretty sure she’s right. Salome is not for everyone.