Salome’s stunning opening this Sunday afternoon at San Francisco Opera attracted the usual, an audience of white hair, so I had to wonder how they were going to accept this sexy and lithe Princess Salome in her long blond curls and her indulgence, a lingering necrophilia. Yep, not just a standing ovation but the Sunday afternoon audience sprung to it’s feet as if young again. I had heard a bit of nervous laughter when she crept up John the Baptist’s thigh, inching her way closer to the front of his sarong as she crawled beside him. The elderly audience in it’s wisdom knew what was coming. New slideshow below.
Greer Grimsley, opera god
Greer Grimsley elevated the production with a religious fervor. He amplified the hellfire and brimstone tone by his magnificent off stage bass baritone, not disembodied but omnipresent like the voice of God. He has the physical presence though to stand his ground. Standing at least six feet tall and reaching at least nine feet with his arm outstretched to the Heavens, he commanded respect for powers greater than ourselves. He brought with him all the power of the gods of Valhalla, doomed as they were by corruption. During the ovation he received shouts of Bravo and he graciously blew a kiss to the audience.
Is Oscar Wilde's Salome still a head of it's time? Click here: Preview with new video.
Greer appeared on the insight panel recently along with Kim Begley (Herod) and Nicola Luisotti (click here: Insight Panel).
Conducter Luisotti bounced onto the stage triumphantly during the long standing ovation, jubilantly casting his wand over the orchestra and the cast.
Getting satisfaction
Generally I felt a sense of satisfaction, the production made me happy. I laughed with delight. Moreover the male critic seated in front of me was one of the few in the theater that remained seated during the standing ovation. He restlessly twittered his thumbs as he sat there on the aisle. My friend Susan kept repeating, my boyfriend better kiss me when I tell him to. She mentioned it to a woman in the opera shop. The woman said the Biblical version of Salome, in Matthew, was anticlimactic to say the least but that Oscar Wilde leaves nothing to the imagination in comparison.
Art as a mirror?
What a ballsy production. The director Sean Curran says that art acts as a mirror while Greer Grimsley has said to me in the past that opera is cathartic.
Sean says we see our hopes, fears, desires and indeed our very souls reflected in the work. In Salome, we may not like what we see. Yes it can get ugly but it feels good, it’s a release, it’s validation of anger. Nothing suppressed or repressed about it. Anger is good, it’s a form of self preservation. Arrogant middle aged men take note.
Salome's last dance a tribute to women: Nadja Michael does it justice
For example. Sean Curran’s dance of the seven veils by Nadja Michaels was not for the voyeur. This was not a strip tease, it was not about sex. It was a power struggle. It was also a real life tribute by Sean Curran and Nadja Michael to women who find their own way with a “keen disregard for the traditional mores and expectations of women” says Sean. This is more than a story about the deranged and maniacal. In a way it's an exorcism of demons.
Nadja performs in her native language and does her own dancing. She has the killer instinct of an athlete and the body to enforce her will. A competitive, indominable spirit not just portraying the hormones of an eighteen year old. Nadja’s Salome meant business even if criminally insane. She’s not to be underestimated. If any soprano is a match for Greer Grimsley’s Jokanaan, this petite and well toned German proved to be it. Lots of yoga behind that body as Nadja channeled Loie Fuller, Ruth St. Denis, Isadora Duncan, Graham. Curran as choreographer mesmerizes. He shows Loie Fuller’s signature use of sheer, voluminous fabric that highlighted the interplay between movement and light, for example.
Not a leather fair, Salome is for grown ups
Again, it’s not for the crowd you might have seen at the leather and bondage street fair recently in their goofy outfits, in which pedestrians rode in on BART from the suburbs or drove down to see from Sacramento. This dance of the seven veils was about the human spirit breaking free from oppression and abuse. It's not dressing up for Halloween or reveling in S & M while safely wearing something tight.
Escaping debauchery, not catering to it or making a buck from it
This is escape from real mental cruelty, from being trapped in a world of debauchery. It’s about taking lechery and lust and turning it against the letch, about empowerment. Salome, a resourceful eighteen year old even if a princess, veils her manipulation with deceptively enticing and inviting movement. Yet she isn’t stripping herself vulnerable, she is shielding herself, putting the fabric between herself and the letch, dancing behind or under it and putting it on rather than taking it off. One could call this performance a put on.
So if you will bear with me just a few more minutes, this woman isn’t lewd, her insanity and desperation are a product of it just like her attempts to find escape through a prisoner. You know there’s no escape there, this isn’t going to end well. Unless you find death as the final release, the ultimate escape, like a mercy killing.
Forbidden fruit?
Indeed, the lecherous step father (an all too redundant term) offers her an apple the way Eve offers it to Adam in the Garden of Eden. He offers forbidden fruit. Even Snow White fell for a poison apple and evil spell by witchcraft.
So this isn’t going to end well. Moreover Salome isn’t taking the bait, she isn’t biting, she demurrs. Not hungry. Understatement. Yet when she is about to kiss the head dropped into the silver platter on her lap, that’s the first thing she wants a taste of. To sink her teeth (her little teeth) into the flesh, to taste that forbidden fruit. Her stealth has paid off.
One could interpret this is taking action against not just letchers but against men who abuse their authority and power. Particularly men who take advantage of attractive women—perhaps they should aim at the ones less able to fight back or make demands.
So there is mention of the angel of death while John the Baptist prophesies and condemns. Nadja’s Salome at this point in her white gown twirls and raises her wings as if to imply, yes indeed.
Yet the lighting also gives a hint that she is a prisoner too. The circle of light she remains inside on the floor mirrors the cistern door behind her. Credit Chris Maravich. Chris also cast marvelous shadows amplifying the drama, especially a burning sunset tone against John the Baptist.
Music to seduce and go insane by
The music though has the psycho theme that recurs as Salome demands and takes her kiss. It’s at it’s most glorious in the climactic moment when Greer Grimsley’s John the Baptist declares with finality, thou art accursed, Salome, thou art accursed. He returns to the cistern with his arms and legs still in bondage. This is where his prison turns into a refuge from debauchery.
I would imagine anybody who loves Wagner’s drama and leitmotifs would love Strauss’ Salome, although the orchestra isn’t as huge or brassy.
Three flutes (one doubling as piccolo), two oboes, one English horn, one Heckelphone, four clarinets, three bassoons, six horns, four trumpets, four trombones, one tuba, one timpani, five percussion, two harps, celeste, expanded strings. Backstage: harmonium and organ as called for in the score.
Yet there were only a couple of glitches that I noted this stunning opening day. The production started five minutes or so late. Supertitles showed “Kill that woman” about a minute before Herod actually entered to utter the phrase. Nevertheless Brit Kim Begley was a delight as the doomed-to-be-disappointed murderous king that gets no respect, gropping after his agile step daughter as she eluded his paws. Brilliant work.
Party on.
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