Love is blind. A photographic image of a blindfolded head, part wilful Cupid in ecstasy, part tortured prisoner, fills the back wall for much of English National Opera’s new production of Richard Strauss’s Salome. No, not Jokanaan (John the Baptist), whose own head arrives, freshly butchered, in a plastic bag where it remains, blood oozing. No, not the severed noggin of the large, trussed-up pink velour horse whose floral guts spill out, Punch and Judy sausage style. Only when Salome (Allison Cook) pulls off her long blond wig can we identify the crop-haired face as, it seems, hers.
Adena Jacobs’s staging is full of horrors and not the kind usually associated with Strauss’s 1905 opera, which has plenty already. It is also full of puzzles: Jokanaan in red high heels, Herod as a pervy Santa in crimson cape and underpants, an empty fish tank, visual nods to dadaism, Beyoncé, the contorted animal and body shapes of Belgian artist Berlinde de Bruyckere, street dance, masturbation and the pink toy-fairyland of Equestria.
The entire show, described by the director in advance as “feminine”, is irritating, grotesque, at first vacuous then troubling. Yet nearly a week later, it still provokes thought and unanswered questions, forcing us to take it seriously. I am left wanting to return, the better to grasp it, and to hear again the powerful, voluptuous playing of the orchestra, conducted by ENO’s music director Martyn Brabbins.
Strauss took his libretto from Wilde’s 1891 play, spun from the biblical story in which Herod commands his stepdaughter Salome to dance. In return she asks for John the Baptist’s head. Salome is at once desirable and vile, the object of lust and, in her cruel obsession, the manipulator too. These paradoxes are central to play and opera alike. The characters are highly stylised. There’s no scope for them to interact naturally. That Salome is victimiser as well as victim is never in doubt.
The virgin or prostitute question is as old as the story itself. Jacobs’s production, however, if a clotted programme essay is any indication, claims to be “a confrontation with the abyss of the feminine”, a challenge to “the phenomenal solidity of our understanding of the feminine and the masculine as an unquestionable binary”. The twist here is the near-erotic relationship between mother and daughter. Is this the love Salome finally achieves, as the moon turns black? In a departure from the original, she puts a gun in her mouth before Herod’s soldiers can crush her.
Marg Horwell’s designs, lit by Lucy Carter, offer no hint of the raging heat of Judea, or of the whiff of fin-de-siècle exoticism that so appealed to Strauss. The opera begins in darkness, possibly outside a nightclub. The main action takes place in a windowless gallery, its chief video installation a closeup of Jokanaan’s mouth, moving in real time. Salome wanders around, twisting strands of her hair, a bored, gym-fit teenager in vest and shiny Lycra “cheeky shorts” (I believe they’re called).
Cook, who moves and acts superbly, as yet lacks the vocal heft to rise above Strauss’s enormous orchestra, but she sings persuasively and has a killing line in disdain. Her dance, involving no veils, on or off, is largely handed to four cheerleaders with high ponytails who floss and twerk around as tumblers rather than seducers. Herod, slimily portrayed by Michael Colvin, is delighted. Susan Bickley handles the unyielding squawks of Herodias with style. Clare Presland makes a mark in the tiny but important role of her page. As Jokanaan, the talented David Soar isn’t helped by some distorted amplification. The finest singing comes from Stuart Jackson as Narraboth, the Salome-struck young Syrian.
The completion of Wagner’s Ring at the Royal Opera House – Siegfried and Götterdämmerung – was straightforward in comparison, with the bonus of a severed head, that of Fafner the giant, sung with the deepest, darkest strength by Brindley Sherratt. In Siegfried, the long opening scene gave the ever brilliant Gerhard Siegel the chance to mesmerise as the domestic dwarf Mime, cooking, cleaning, laying out a tablecloth like a fussy hausfrau.
Siegfried the fearless hero was delivered with restless energy, ringing top notes and callow exuberance by Stefan Vinke, returning to the role he sang at the last revival of Keith Warner’s production, in 2012. Given its marathon length, here and in Götterdämmerung, it’s disobliging to complain of Vinke’s occasional intonation lapses. His perfect, chirruping imitation of the Woodbird, in Act III of Götterdämmerung, can fell many a more eloquent performer. Norns and Rhinemaidens (special praise to Rachael Lloyd, a late replacement as Wellgunde), Gunther (Markus Butter), Gutrune (Emily Magee) and, particularly, Karen Cargill as Waltraute excelled.
Towering over all, lurking in corners, peering through windows, Stephen Milling’s tyrannical yet subtle Hagen was every ounce as gripping as Nina Stemme’s dazzling, noble Brünnhilde. If you’re in search of an opera heroine who holds her own, try this fearless Valkyrie. The orchestra had a few wobbles, outweighed by some sensational high, pianissimo string playing. Low brass and woodwind coaxed dark yet mercurial sounds only Wagner could create. Antonio Pappano, having brought the gods to their knees, looked sheet-white but happy at the thunderous applause. Now he has to do it all over again.
“What perished must rise again”, in the words of Mahler’s Symphony No 2, Resurrection (1895), which launched Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra’s new season. Ligeti’s Lontano (1967), tiny repetitions creating sonic mist, was a smart prelude to the apocalyptic visions of Mahler. Celebrating his 10th anniversary as chief conductor, Kirill Karabits steered his colossal forces – choir, soloists (Nadine Weissmann and Lise Lindstrom) and musicians must have numbered 250 – with tight precision and vital sense of scale. At the redemptive finale, chorus, offstage bands, massed horns, trumpets, trombones, double timpani, harps, gongs, bells and all made the floor itself vibrate. Broadcast live on Radio 3, listen again with the volume up.
Star ratings (out of 5)
Salome ★★★
Siegfried ★★★★ Götterdämmerung ★★★★
Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra ★★★★★
Salome is at the Coliseum, London, until 23 Oct
Siegfried is at the Royal Opera House, London, until 31 October, Götterdämmerung until 2 Nov
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