Johann Strauss’ “Salome,” the second production of the Washington National Opera’s 2010-2011 season, is all about opposites: hedonism versus asceticism; devotion to physical excess versus devotion to purity; inconsistency versus steadfastness, to name just a few of the opera’s extremes.
This production, masterfully directed by Francesca Zambello, emphasizes the stark distances between those opposites, using all the elements of Strauss’ opera—lush music, a biblical story, epic characters — to maximum effect to create a work that is lucid and compelling.
Based on story of Herod Antipas, his wife, Herodias, her daughter Salome and Jokanaan (John the Baptist), “Salome,” takes place on a terrace outside Herod’s palace, a mammoth structure that can be seen vaguely in the distance. On the terrace is a large, three-tiered stone cistern, where the prophet Jokanaan is being held captive, imprisoned by Herod for his criticisms of Herodias.
The captain of the guard, Narraboth (the impressive tenor Sean Panikkar) stares into the banquet hall of Herod’s castle, admiring the lovely young princess. When Salome (Deborah Voigt), leaves the banquet and comes onto the terrace, she begs Narraboth to let her see the prophet.
Using her feminine wiles and slyly promising Narraboth favors in the future, Salome succeeds in getting Jokanaan (Daniel Sumegi) released from prison, at which point she promptly transfers her attention from Narraboth to Jokanaan. Voigt is fascinating as the fickle, capricious, sexually motivated Salome, a young woman practiced in the art of bending men to her will.
Voigt is onstage for one hour and 40 minutes, almost continually singing, and there is not a false moment in her performance. Her Salome wheedles, coos and demands; she is alternatively lascivious, manipulative and vengeful, demanding the head of Jokanaan on a silver charger when he doesn’t return her advances. In every mood, Voigt’s sublime, creamy voice precisely delivers Strauss’ highly charged, soaring music.
Richard Berkeley-Steele is powerful in the role of Herod, the aging king who lusts after his stepdaughter, Salome. Mezzo-soprano Doris Soffel gives a marvelously contoured performance, perfectly capturing the imperative, jealous Herodias. As the hyperspiritual Jokanaan, bass-baritone Sumegi is a commanding presence. Strauss wrote singular, heroic music for Jokanaan, and Sumegi delivers it in a well-articulated manner.
Peter J. Davison’s set capitalizes on the fact that Salome and her parents are trapped in an emotional void. The major players are seen in the first scene only barely, as if through gauze. The rest of the time they are in limbo, performing from the front of the stage to the rear, but never leaving it.
Davison’s set employs long, vertical strips of transparent vinyl that continually alter with Mark McCullough’s effective lighting design. When Salome does her Dance of the Seven Veils, for instance, the transparent curtain becomes opaque, multicolored. Anita Yavich’s costumes are colorful and reminiscent of the Orient. The outfits for Salome and the dancing girls who accompany her employ brightly colored scarves for the Dance of the Seven Veils. Choreographer Yael Levitin Saban creates a stunning ensemble number for that dance.
Of all the contrasts in “Salome” the most basic is between its romantic, glorious music and the opera’s horrendous conclusion. Salome finally gets to kiss her Jokanaan, but by then she has convinced Herod to behead him and her final love aria is sung as a deranged woman, covered in blood.
On opening night, the Washington National Opera’s newly appointed music director and conductor, Philippe Auguin, led the Washington National Opera Orchestra to brilliantly suggest how valid the Salome paradox is. Together Auguin and Zambello prove why “Salome” is still one of the most valued works in the history of opera.
