Salome at the Lyric Opera is an Unsettling Dream

In 1902, Richard Straus saw Oscar Wilde’s Salomé. He went home that night and wrote his opera. It debuted in Dresden just two years later. Audiences were immediately taken with the shocking, salacious story of a homicidally obsessed teenaged girl. One hundred and twenty years later, this dark, uncomfortable show is still packing houses.

The story is the one of the biblical Salome. Her stepfather (and uncle, uh oh) is Herod, the ruler of the Roman province Judaea. He is creepily, unhealthily into her. In an attempt to get a break from his unwanted attention at a dinner party, Salome heads down to hang out with the servants and guards. Once there, she discovers the guards are holding Jokanaan (John the Baptist), an ascetic visionary who’s cursing her mother, Herodias and prophesying her stepfather’s death. A guy who hates your parents is teenager catnip, and Salome talks the guards into letting her meet him.

She is instantly obsessed. Jokanaan isn’t so easy to charm though, and when he finds out who she is he curses her instead. Salome is clearly in the “no means yes” camp and isn’t deterred. Herodias, who is also disturbed by Herod’s interest in Salome, emerges from the feast.

Salome’s teacher in non-consent, her stepfather Herod, comes looking for her, followed by the rest of the dinner party, and they are all soon regaled by Jokanaan’s apocalyptic predictions. Herod decides a distraction is in order and asks Salome to dance for him. She refuses, until he promises to give her anything she wants. She dances, then asks for Jokanaan’s head. Herod thinks that is a terrible idea, but can’t convince her otherwise, so gives in. Salome gets the head, and things get weird. Herod commands the soldiers to kill her.

The staging is beautiful and strange. A large dinner party takes up the upper left quadrant of the stage, but only to about the actor’s waists, creating a greater feeling of distance. A large staircase spirals down the right side. The bulk of the stage is a strange, basement space, filled with soldiers and half-dressed servants. Lighting designers Wolfgang Göbbel and Chris Maravich create long, stark shadows across the marble walls, adding to the overall feeling of oppression.

The production by Sir David McVicar is set in vaguely Third Reich world of decadence and subjugation. Soldiers in uniform stalk about the basement, servants move with slow, zombie like movements and two young women in under garments stand around, or are passed between men from the party. It makes for a weird, stilted scene that feels dreamlike. Most weirdly, one of the soldiers is barefoot, walking back and forth menacingly over a grate with a sword.

Strauss’ score is known for its power and unsettling chords, and conductor Tomáš Netopil brings the passion and the violence it calls for. The cast is also more than ready for the difficult melody lines and rigorous rhythms. Soprano Jennifer Holloway’s portrayal is particularly strong, her voice rich and unceasing in its demand to be heard. Nicholas Brownlee’s (Jokanaan) rich baritone and commanding presence go a long way to place him as an important figure; despite the rags he is wearing.

The role of Salome is notoriously hard, not simply because of the vocal gymnastics but also the difficulty of playing a teenage girl with the vocal range and power of a grown woman. In this production, that was not apparent, making Salome’s immediate, incel-like obsession and reaction to Jokanaan come off as uncomfortably funny, rather than frightening. While the score is unsettling, dramatic and passionate, it is also missing the kind of sweeping melodies from the arias that often serve as a respite from the recitative. The dance of the seven veils is also largely performed with moving sets and lights, as Salome and Herod dance across the stage. It’s a long interlude without much action, and the choice to have the dance to be a partner dance rather than a performance takes away from the “reward” Salome earns.

The grisly final scene and song is powerfully owned by Halloway, she received a spontaneous, and deserved, ovation at the end. All the cast, as can be expected from the Lyric, are excellent musicians and performers. However, the dim stage, stark production and constant presence of the chorus that mostly just stands there, never singing, makes this one hard for someone who isn’t already a fan of Strauss, or Salome, to get lost in the story or the music. If you’ve been curious about McVicar’s vision, it’s worth checking it out, but if you are not familiar with opera, I wouldn’t start here.

Somewhat Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

Presented at the Lyric Opera of Chicago. Performance dates and times are January 29, February 3 and February 6 at 7:00pm, February 11 at 2pm and February 14 at 7:30pm. Tickets range from $42-$379. For more information and tickets, visit lyricopera.org/salome or call 312.827.5600.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.