Barbican Hall
I was in New York this April and was saddened to learn that I would fly home on the opening night of the MET’s new Salome. Tragic, but no matter, the London Symphony Orchestra were performing it at home. I’d never seen or heard it before, and, other than the poster displayed outside the MET, I had no sneak previews of Salome.
Before the show, I opened the program. In Strauss’ one act opera, John the Baptist, a prophet imprisoned for damning Herodias (Salome’s mother) for killing her husband to remarry his brother (Herod). Salome wants John “Tis your mouth that I desire” (she goes on), but John rebukes her as the daughter of a wicked mother.
Returning to a party, “the daughter of Herodias danced for the guests and pleased Herod so much that he promised with an oath to give her whatever she asked” (Matthew 14:6-11). Scorned and impassioned, Salome asks Herod for John’s head on a silver platter. At first, Herod refuses to behead a messenger of God, but sucuumbs after Salome performs for the Dance of the Seven Veils. John’s head is brought to Salome and she kisses his dead lips. Herod proclaims her a monster and orders her death. Curtain.
Kaiser Wilhelm said he was “sorry Strauss composed this Salome…I really like the fellow but this will do him a lot of damage.” The opera was withdrawn from the MET after a dress rehearsal. Are they right? This is still fucked up, no? She kisses John’s dead lips? Such crucial questions were soon forgotten once the music started.
To say nothing of Asmik Grigorian’s beautiful interpretation of Salome and Sir Anthony Pappano’s conducting, I wanted to remember a few moments.
In scene 4, (“Tanz für mich, Salome.”) Herod proclaims: “It is cold here. There is a wind blowing. Is there not a wind blowing?” A chromatic rumbling starts up in the lower register of the strings, then builds in volume/pitch before subsiding. It felt like this ominous wind flew over the audience, perhaps an angel prophesizing a death in the family? I can’t hear this wind in the recordings I’ve listened to at home, but under Pappano my blood ran cold.
Some other moments. Of course, Salome’s Dance of the Seven Veils is riveting: Salome peels off another layer of sanity with every veil. The oboes are hot. When Salome announces that she wants John’s head, Herod pleas that he “is a holy man”. The religious angle doesn’t last long, how about a “collar of pearls”? “Topazes as pink as a tiger’s eyes”, or “opals that burn with ice-like flame”? No? Salome wants blood. It’s almost as hot as the oboes. How could Herod resist?
Note: Strauss wrote the libretto himself, fair play.
Later in Scene 4: Es ist kein Laut zu vernehmen, Herod agrees John will die, the executioner exits to John’s cell. We wait. Percussion rumbles. Singular violins are struck. The nerves on the back of my legs simmered. Fuck? We’ve been debating John’s death for an hour, but now that it’s here, Strauss’ music has my legs simmering?
“I heard something fall.” Salome is presented with John’s head. “You wouldn't let me kiss your mouth, Jochanaan! Well, I will kiss it now! I will bite into it with my teeth, like one bites into ripe fruit”. She asks him why his eyes are closed, and if what she can taste on his lips is blood. She questions whether she loves him. She’s officially lost her mind and Herod orders her death. Talk about a Liebestod.
It sounds crass on paper like this. It premiered in 1905, and the Freudian, labyrinthine study of Salome’s mind is just so compelling on stage. It all works so well. In response to Kaiser Wilhelm’s comments that Salome would do Strauss “a lot of damage”, Strauss answered “The damage enabled me to build my villa in Garmisch”.
Note: Garmisch appears to be a very nice place to live.
120 years later, almost the entirety of the Barbican Hall audience were on their feet. I got up, I never do that. I texted myself as I left the hall, [13/07/2025 21:05]: Awe.