Opera Salome, Program Notes Sheet Music and Recordings

Program Notes & Analysis

The "Scandal" That Built a Villa

The 1905 Dresden premiere of Salome was a cultural "big bang." The composer, Richard Strauss, was already the celebrated "heir" to Richard Wagner, the undisputed master of the "tone poem" (Don Juan, Also sprach Zarathustra). But this... this was something else. The audience was confronted with a "biblical" story (already scandalous) that was not about "faith," but about "necrophilia." They saw a "16-year-old" princess (sung by a soprano with the vocal power of a Wagnerian Brünnhilde) perform a "striptease" (the Dance of the Seven Veils) and then proceed to make love to a severed head. And the music! It was a "cacophony," a "symphony of noise." It was "atonal," "dissonant," and "brutal." The singers shrieked, the orchestra roared. It was a total, unmitigated, and wildly successful scandal. The opera was an "overnight" sensation. Viennese censors banned it. Gustav Mahler fought, and failed, to get it staged. The Met in New York staged it once in 1907, and it was so "morally repugnant" that it was pulled from the repertoire for 27 years. Strauss had not just written an opera; he had detonated a "bomb," and the "shrapnel" would define the sound of the 20th century.

The "Poisoned" Source: Oscar Wilde

The opera's "perversity" is not Strauss's invention; it is a direct, loving homage to its source. The libretto is Oscar Wilde's 1891 play Salomé, set verbatim in a German translation. Wilde's play, itself a scandale, was a masterpiece of the "Decadent" and "Symbolist" movements. It was "anti-victorian," "neo-pagan," and "erotic." Wilde, writing in "exotic" French, took the "flat" biblical character of Salome (who, in the Bible, is just an "obedient" pawn of her mother, Herodias) and transformed her into the "protagonist." Wilde's Salome is not "evil"; she is a "child-monster," a 16-year-old "neurotic" trapped in a "poisonous," corrupt court. She is bored. She is disgusted by her lecherous stepfather, Herod. She is a creature of "pure," "amoral" instinct. Strauss, upon seeing the play in Berlin in 1902, knew instantly it was his. "This is a libretto!" he declared. "It is a verismo text with a 'poetic' overlay!" He set the one-act play as it was, creating a "real-time" psychological thriller.

The "Anti-Tristan": A Wagnerian Orchestra, A Freudian Subtext

Salome is the ultimate "post-Wagnerian" opera. It is the "anti-Tristan." Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde used a massive orchestra, leitmotifs, and "unresolved" chromaticism to depict a "transcendent," "spiritual," "night-world" love that could only be consummated in death (Liebestod). Strauss took that exact same "musical technology" and applied it to the "daylight" world of "neurosis," "perversion," and "psychological horror." The orchestra is the opera. It is a massive, "symphonic poem" with voices. The orchestra is the "Freudian subtext"; it tells us the "truth" that the characters are trying to hide. It is the "voice" of Salome's "lust" (a slithering, chromatic, "oriental" melody). It is the "voice" of Herod's "neurotic" terror (a fragmented, skittering, "atonal" series of notes). It is the "voice" of Jokanaan's "faith" (a cold, stark, "diatonic" chorale from the low brass). Strauss uses Wagner's leitmotif system, but not for "noble" swords and "holy" grails. He uses it for Salome's "obsession," Herod's "superstition," and the "dread" of the cistern. This is a "symphony of sickness," and it is absolutely brilliant.

The "Impossible" Heroine

The role of Salome is, famously, one of the most "impossible" in the repertoire. Strauss joked that he wanted "a 16-year-old with the voice of an Isolde." It is a "super-soprano" role. She must sing, for 100 minutes, over one of the loudest orchestras ever assembled. She must have the "power" of a Wagnerian Heldensopran and the "agility" of a bel canto coloratura. And... she must dance. Strauss's "genius" was to create a "child-monster." Her music is not the "vampy," "knowing" music of a Bizet’s Carmen. It is, at first, "childlike," "silvery," and "innocent." Her obsession with Jokanaan is a "terrifying" discovery of her own power. Her "seduction" of Narraboth (the guard who kills himself for her) is "casual." She doesn't even notice his body. Her entire "character arc" is a "descent" from "innocent perversity" to "ecstatic psychosis."

The "Pillars" of Faith and "Decay"

The opera is a duel between two "immovable" forces. On one side is Jokanaan (John the Baptist). He is the "old world." His music is the opposite of Salome's. It is "diatonic" (in a "normal" key), "rigid," "moral," and "cold." He is a "pillar" of faith, and he is completely, sexually, "un-moveable." On the other side is Herod. He is the "new world," the "decay." He is not a "king"; he is a "neurotic," a "superstitious," "lecherous" man who is terrified of everything: his "shrewish" wife, the "Jews" arguing at his table, the "omen" of the moon, and, most of all, the "pale" Salome. His music is the most "atonal" in the opera. It is fragmented, "skittering," and "anxious." He is the "true" decadent, a man who has "seen it all" and is now "bored." Salome is the "monster" they have created—the "pure" product of Jokanaan's "cold" morality and Herod's "hot" corruption.

The "Dance of the Seven Veils"

This is the opera's "commercial break," and its most "famous" (and "problematic") moment. Strauss’s "modernist" opera is, for five minutes, "interrupted" by a spectacular, lush, "oriental-lite" ballet. It is, as Strauss himself admitted, a piece of "tacked-on" "Viennese fluff" for the "philistine" audience. It is a "pop hit" in the middle of a "symphony of dissonance." But it is theatrically brilliant. It is the "calm before the storm," the "erotic" engine that drives the opera's "unbearable" second half. It is the "price" Herod pays for his "lust," and the "key" Salome uses to unlock her "obsession."

The "Liebestod" of a Necrophile

The "Dance" is not the climax. The real climax is the final, 15-minute "scena," "Ah! Ich habe deinen Mund geküsst" (Ah! I have kissed your mouth). This is the opera's true, "anti-moral" "aria." It is a "perverted" Liebestod (the "love-death" from Wagner's Tristan). It is a "love duet" sung by a "living" soprano to a "severed head." The music is a masterpiece of "psychological horror." It is a "recap" of the entire opera, as the orchestra "remembers" all the leitmotifs—the "Jokanaan" theme, the "prophecy" theme, the "lust" theme—but now they are all "twisted," "broken," and "resolved" in the "poisonous" key of C-sharp major. It is the "sound" of "ecstasy" and "madness" becoming one. It is, perhaps, the "first" truly "modern" scene in opera. Salome has "won." She has "consummated" her "love." Her "obsession" is "complete." And it is this "resolution," this "triumph" of the "perverse," that is so "horrifying" to her stepfather, Herod. As the music reaches its most "ecstatic," "atonal" climax, Herod, in a fit of "normal" human disgust, simply "shuts it off." He screams: "Man töte dieses Weib!" ("Kill this woman!"). The orchestra responds with a final, brutal, crushing, C-minor chord, as the soldiers' shields fall. It is the "sound" of the "20th century" arriving: violent, psychological, and utterly unforgiving.

The Story of the Opera

Salome is a single, continuous act.

Scene: The terrace of Herod's palace, overlooking the Sea of Galilee. A moonlit night.

The soldiers are on guard. Narraboth, the young Captain of the Guard, stares, mesmerized, at the Princess Salome, who is in the banquet hall ("Wie schön ist die Prinzessin Salome heute Nacht!" - "How beautiful is the Princess Salome tonight!"). His friend, the Page, warns him not to "stare" at her, predicting "something terrible will happen." From a deep, underground cistern, a powerful, disembodied voice is heard. It is the prophet, Jokanaan (John the Baptist), who has been imprisoned by Herod. He sings of a "new Messiah."

Salome, bored and disgusted by her lecherous stepfather (Herod) and the "noises" of the court, rushes out onto the terrace. She hears the voice. She is intrigued. Herod has forbidden anyone from seeing the prophet. Salome, in a "three-part" seduction, uses her "wiles" on Narraboth. She begs him to let her see the prophet. He refuses. She promises him a "little green flower." He refuses. She finally promises to "smile" at him, "just for him." Narraboth, obsessed, crumbles and orders the guards to bring Jokanaan up.

Jokanaan rises from the cistern, a gaunt, "Christ-like" figure. He denounces the "sinful" court, especially Herodias, Salome's mother. Salome, however, is not "repulsed"; she is fascinated. She begins her own, famous, "three-part" obsession:

1. "I want to see your body!" ("Thy body is white, like the lilies...") Jokanaan refuses: "Back, daughter of Babylon!"

2. "I want to see your hair!" ("Thy hair is black, like the cedars...") Jokanaan refuses: "Back, daughter of Sodom!"

3. "I want to kiss your mouth!" ("Thy mouth is red... I will kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan!") Jokanaan, horrified, curses her and descends back into the cistern. Narraboth, who has been watching this scene in agony, cries out, "Princess!" and, in a fit of despair, stabs himself and dies. Salome, in her "trance," "steps over" his body without even noticing.

Herod, Herodias, and the court enter. Herod is "neurotic," "superstitious," and "lecherous." He is terrified of the "wind" and the "moon," which he says "looks like a madwoman." He begs Salome to "drink wine" from his cup, to "eat fruit" from his plate. She refuses, "coldly." Desperate for her affection, he begs her to "dance for him." Salome refuses. Herodias encourages her refusal. Herod, in a final, desperate gambit, makes a "reckless oath": "Dance for me, Salome, and I will give you whatsoever you shall ask... even unto the half of my kingdom!"

Salome, intrigued, agrees. She performs the "Dance of the Seven Veils." It is an "exotic," "erotic" dance that ends with her, "naked," at Herod's feet.

Herod, overjoyed, asks, "What is your reward?" Salome, in a "sweet, girlish" voice, says, "I ask for... on a silver platter... the head of Jokanaan."

Herod is horrified. He "panics." He offers her "all his riches," "his prized white peacocks," "the veil of the temple." Salome, in a cold, monotone, "hissing" voice, repeats her demand: "Give me the head of Jokanaan." Herodias, for the first time, is "delighted." Herod, trapped by his "oath," finally, miserably, collapses. He gives the "ring of death" to the executioner, who descends into the cistern.

Salome, in a state of "manic" anticipation, waits by the cistern. There is a long, "terrible" silence from the orchestra. A "black arm" emerges, holding a silver platter with the head of Jokanaan.

The "Final Scene" begins. Salome seizes the head. She begins her long, 15-minute, "necrophiliac" love song. "Ah! Du wolltest mich nicht deinen Mund küssen lassen!" (Ah! You would not let me kiss your mouth!). She taunts the head, she "loves" the head, and, finally, she "kisses" its dead lips. Herod, who has been watching this, his "terror" turning to "disgust," cannot take it. He screams to his soldiers: "Man töte dieses Weib!" ("Kill this woman!"). The soldiers rush forward and crush Salome to death under their shields.