We expect a lot from our Salomes.
The title role in Richard Strauss’ 1905 opera (in one act) requires a soprano with the vocal strength of a weightlifter, the flexibility of a gymnast and the endurance of a marathoner.
We also expect her to perform the “Dance of the Seven Veils” with the seductive allure of a Vegas pole dancer, project demonic intensity, feline allure and fetishistic perversity — all wrapped convincingly in the body of a teenage girl! It’s an all but impossible task that no one really ever expects to encounter.
Then along came Maria Ewing’s performance as Salome on Oct. 8, 1986. It was only the third production to be presented by what at the time was a fledgling Los Angeles Opera and the first time Ewing had sung the role. She was young, lithe, wide-eyed and she stalked the stage like a sexual predator. By the time it was over, people left the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion aghast and in awe. No one had ever seen a Salome like it.
On Saturday, soprano Patricia Racette, who made her LA Opera debut in 2006 playing another demanding teenage role, Co-Cio-San, took on the challenge of singing Salome. She came out on the same stage in the same production that Ewing had so long ago. It was a very different, but also impressive performance.
Racette (a mature woman in her 50s) makes little attempt to hide the fact that her teenage years are well behind her. Her only concession is an occasional coquettish smile and a playful kicking of her toes. She relies on wielding her power vocally, particularly during her duets of infatuation with the imprisoned prophet, John the Baptist (Jochanaan, who is sung superbly by the resonant Icelandic baritone Tómas Tómasson), and during her climatic necropheliac aria delivered to his just-severed head. In those moments Racette’s Salome is a force to be reckoned with.
It was decidedly harder to see her as Strauss’ cunning little vixen, the demonic spoiled brat and ultimate seductive temptress, particularly during her rendition of the “Dance of the Seven Veils.” The entire purpose of the dance is to seduce her lecherous stepfather Herod (Allan Glassman) into giving her what she wants. Instead, the choreography by Peggy Hickey has her roaming all over the stage picking up bolts of fabric like she was shopping at a flea market.
In the end, Racette’s willingness to go totally nude is defiantly aimed at the audience instead of at Herod. It never would have gotten past the first round on “Dancing With the Stars.”
In 1986, this same production was directed with pinpoint accuracy by Sir Peter Hall who at the time was married to his star soprano. The current staging proves far less effective as rearranged by German director David Paul. Based on the play by Oscar Wilde, Strauss’ opera thrives on its ability to be shocking and unconventional. And just as Wilde’s poetry is fraught with perverse sensuality, Strauss’ music is often lurid and super-heated, infused with haunting refrains and miasmic waves of dissonance.
The most powerful scenes of the opera involve the battle of the sexes between the godly prophet predicting the coming of the Lord, and the whore of Babylon’s uncontrollable desires. Glassman’s Herod is a ruler torn between his fear of God and the uncontrollable lust for his step-daughter. His Gorgon of a wife, Herodias, is sung by Garbriele Schnaut. The distraught guard, Narraboth, who kills himself rather than abet Salome’s cravings, is sung powerfully by Issachah Savage.
The production’s original designer, John Bury, based his scenic motif on the swirling geometric patters of Gustav Klimt. And while the stage remains the same, Bury’s elegant backdrop has been replaced with a series of dreary impressionistic clouds and a big gauzy moon. The gaudy, almost silly costumes are by Sara Jean Tosetti.
The lurid intensity of the score was given its full power by conductor James Conlon, though there were times when the barrage tended to drown out the singers.
Jim Farber is a Los Angeles-based freelance writer.
‘Salome’
Rating: 2.5 stars.
Where: Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave., Los Angeles.
When: 7:30 Saturday and March 2 and 16, 2 p.m. March 5 and 19.
Tickets: $19-$329.
Length: 90 minutes, no intermission.
Suitability: For mature audiences; contains nudity, violence and necrophilia.
Information: 213-972-8001, laopera.org.
