In its VHS days this
was always highly regarded as one of
the best Salomes on film and
many Straussians have been yelling for
the DVD. Well, it’s finally here and
there’s much to celebrate, though there
are qualifications, of which more later.
Having seen it a number
of times in the theatre, I think it’s
fair to say that, rather like Traviata,
this opera stands or falls by its central
female portrayal. Strauss burdened the
part with enormous vocal, technical
and emotional demands – indeed, it is
nothing short of a tour de force,
made even greater by the fact that Salome
is meant to be a teenager. Of course,
this is impossible in reality, but the
best productions cast a singing actress
who at least looks reasonably young
and attractive and therefore believable.
This is where Catherine
Malfitano scores immediately. During
the late 1980s and early 1990s she was
at the height of her powers and made
this part virtually her own around the
world. She was probably only rivalled
by Maria Ewing who, on DVD at least,
is no match vocally for Malfitano. This
1990 Deutscher Oper production from
Petr Weigl and Giuseppe Sinopoli catches
both Malfitano and the conductor on
peak form.
The first success on
curtain-up is Josef Svoboda’s naturalistic
Middle Eastern set, its white, square
palace buildings having a hint of rough-edged
decay, together with flights of steps
that come and go like a drawing by Escher.
A huge pale moon dominates the backdrop,
its degrees of illumination seeming
to come and go with the characters’
mood-swings, or maybe even reflect or
influence them. Costumes also look in
period, tending towards pale or dark,
except for Salome’s blood red cloak
– symbolically donned after her dance
- and her mother’s similarly tinted
gown. The general look of the stage
picture is pretty much as Strauss wanted
it, and a far cry from the dark and
dingy interior in Luc Bondy’s Covent
Garden production from a few years later
and also starring Malfitano.
Indeed, many lovers
of the opera may already have that set,
well conducted by Christoph Dohnányi
and released on DVD last year. It is
probably the main rival here, but I
have to say that, musically and dramatically,
I do find this earlier German production
more convincing overall. Malfitano is
a few years younger and is simply in
better voice, to say nothing of looking
in her prime. Some complained of her
excessive vibrato at Covent Garden,
but for Sinopoli the voice is steady,
firm and rings out thrillingly even
in the most taxing passages, such as
the long final scene. Her acting is
entirely credible, running the gamut
from coquettish, child-like vulnerability,
through manipulative minx to, finally,
crazed obsessive. She often appears
to be in a manic trance as she strives
to get her way, yet she is always in
control. The infamous Dance of the Seven
Veils is far more sexy and believable
than at Covent Garden. Weigl’s choreographer,
Bernd Schindowski, has fashioned a wonderfully
stylized routine that ends with her
baring all and, for once, one can realize
why the sweaty, lascivious Herod is
completely overwhelmed and caves in.
One can also understand why he orders
her death at the end - again stylized
here as an effective silhouette - as
this Salome positively relishes a repulsively
lingering kiss on the lips of Jochanaan’s
severed head. It is truly a great piece
of operatic acting, and still shocks
as surely as Strauss intended.
Talking of Jochanaan,
I also find Simon Estes more noble and
in firmer voice than Bryn Terfel. How
different are their two entrances, the
Welshman dirty and dishevelled, writhing
on the floor as he adjusts to the light
- which is actually lacking in the production.
Estes, by contrast, boldly but slightly
falteringly climbs the steps and, his
commanding figure etched against the
huge moon, begins his monologue. It
may be less ‘realistic’ by modern theatre
convention, but it’s mightily effective
operatically, and his aloofness only
serves to heighten Salome’s frustration.
The Herod of Horst
Hiestermann is less hysterical and caricatured
than usual, the singer grading his performance
and building towards the awful decision
he is compelled to make. The voice has
a slightly strained quality above the
stave – Kenneth Riegl at Covent Garden
is a touch more open vocally – but the
phrasing is musical and the acting more
convincing than Riegl’s.
Leonie Rysanek, once
a famous Salome herself, clearly enjoys
herself as the truly awful Herodias.
I also liked Clemens Bieber’s Narraboth,
a small but difficult part, and his
suicide is better handled by Weigl than
in some productions.
Sinopoli’s conducting
of this famous score is truly memorable.
He lets more light into the thick orchestration
than is often the case, obviously taking
on board Strauss’s own views on how
it should be handled. This then gives
the big, heavy climaxes the massive
impact they need. I always admired his
Mahler cycle more than most, and he
was very much at home in this repertoire.
The studio recording of Salome
that came shortly after this production,
with Malfitano replaced by Cheryl Studer
for contractual reasons and Terfel replacing
Estes, is often cited as the safest
all-round recommendation. Sinopoli is
a tad more flexible than Dohnányi,
less aggressive than Solti, but the
voltage is no less high where it matters.
Try the execution scene, for example,
where the tension is screwed up to breaking
point. I’ve never been more aware of
the score sounding, as the composer
laconically put it, ‘like a scherzo
with a fatal conclusion’.
So all’s well on the
artistic front and Brian Large’s experienced
camera knows just when to pull back
and close in, even if he does capture
a lot of the annoying and occasionally
shaky follow-spot that seems to accompany
Salome everywhere. Unfortunately, potential
purchasers need to be aware of one major
technical glitch. Just before the build
up to Salome’s Dance (between chapters
6 and 7) the screen goes black for a
couple of seconds before resuming. It
may not bother some, but it is enough
to dissipate tension at a crucial moment.
Warner says it’s on the original tape
and nothing can be done, but I refuse
to believe, in this age of technical
wizardry, that some sort of editing
procedure couldn’t have eliminated it,
or at least made the fault a bit less
obvious. Add to that NVC’s usual makeshift
packaging, sound and picture quality
that seem, to me, not as sharp or full
as Dohnányi’s, and you have a
potential winner slightly blighted.
For my own part, the
artistic side is enough to make me recommend
it, especially for Malfitano’s title
role, Sinopoli’s supple conducting and
a gimmick-free production that Strauss
himself would have recognized - in this
day and age, no bad thing.
Tony Haywood
Orchestra of the Deutsche Oper, Berlin/ Giuseppe
Sinopoli 
NVC
ARTS 9031-73827-2 [108:00] 
