January: Salome

So begins the 2018 operatic journey. This year, as some of you may or may not be aware, I have set myself the pretty mad task of seeing at least one opera a month (from professional/established opera companies) for the whole of 2018. I am doing this for several reasons, but mostly it boils down to two things: I want to be kept in the loop at a time when professionally I feel a bit distanced from my passions, and I also want to have something to look forward to every few weeks. Going to the opera makes me happy, and this year I am determined to do more of what I love. Already I am discovering the difficulties in achieving this task: primarily that I am a person who works full time in a minimum wage job, and that funding these exploits and scheduling work around them is easier said than done. But I’m having a good go! Some months are easier to meet the quota than others (Wales-based opera is useful) and some have already been booked very far in advance (October and November are accounted for, as are February and April). I’m also hoping to experience productions from a wider range of companies in order to broaden my knowledge and understanding of opera. Living in Wales it has been easy for me to catch Welsh National Opera (and occasionally Music Theatre Wales) in and around Cardiff; they have been very good to me in more ways than I could count, but it’s exciting to see what else is out there. Bring on the challenge!

30th January 2018

I was on holiday for the final week in January, which was just as well, because it felt like I hadn’t stopped for several months! I work in retail and always struggle in December-time when it’s the holiday season; it’s sold to us as a time for catching up with friends and family, but I only have a limited number of days to enjoy the festivities (it’s also very tiring!). To have had some time off in January was nice, and I tried to unwind. After a weekend with my family bouncing between Birmingham and Berkshire bases, I ended up in London for the day, determined to enjoy some opera-based me-time.

My opera day started at the V&A. For some months they have had an exhibition on called ‘Opera: Passion, Power and Politics’; I’d first heard about it in March of last year, but it still took me almost a whole year to visit! It was worth the wait, though; I was impressed by the scope of the exhibition, which covers the history of opera over seven world premieres in seven different cities. You wander through the exhibition with a head-set wired up to (what I assume is) bluetooth, and it plays different excerpts dependent on which part of the exhibition you are in. There could be several excerpts within a single ‘room’, so there was often stuff going on. Being me (and finding it hard to read when listening to music!) I decided to have my headset on a pretty low volume, but I think it’s a good feature; there’s no point having opera without the music. The exhibition also had many interactive elements, which maintained interest and intrigue whilst appealing to different people’s learning styles. They’d suggested it took about 70 minutes to wander around, but it took me 2 hours (plus 15 minutes in the shop at the end, although I did find a fellow creative – also called Kate – who it was delightful to chat to about opera things)! It was great to take my time wandering around and not feel like I had to rush for the benefit of others.

I also compiled a list of objects and artefacts I particularly liked, little tidbits of information I hadn’t known, and some of the special moments I had whilst wandering around. Here is that list:

Venetian platform shoes were a thing?!
There was a beautiful portrait of a bare-breasted Barbara Strozzi (painted by Bernardo Strozzi). For those who don’t know her, Strozzi was a complete bad-ass, and definitely worth reading into.
The Monteverdi portrait was there.
They had a massive replica of a staging of Rinaldo (in the Italian-style). It showed the way the stage worked (with the scenes/back drops painted on cloth and the many layers and cogs of it); there was a wonderful sense of how things were used to aid perspective. Plus the theatricality of it was astounding.
Apparently, the coffee houses of London were the place to get your opera tickets. Perhaps we should bring it back?
I heard a nice recording of the really rather gorgeous ‘Lascia ch’io pianga…’ from Rinaldo.
It was the popularity of ‘Figaro’ in Prague which lead to Don Giovanni premiering there (I probably should have known that already…).
I got to see the unfinished portrait of Mozart (painted by Lange). Wow.
In the Nabucco part of the exhibition, there was a section where you were encouraged to look at an installation of photographs of Italian opera house ceilings [see my photo above!]. Sat on the bench, you could listen to a recording of a rehearsal for ‘Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves’. I had a lady sat next to me. When it had finished and I looked over to her, she had been crying, and had to wipe away her tears. It was beautiful to see someone so moved.
Richard Strauss’ annotated copy of Oscar Wilde’s Salome (which inspired him to pen the opera) was on display. The musical annotations at the bottom of the page looked like he’d quickly jotted down his ideas as he was reading.
[I had to be very careful not to watch much of the clip from the opera, since it was the exact production I was headed to see that very night!]
1911 marked the first International Women’s Day.
The ‘Lady Macbeth’ section had a photo scrap book from the premiere of the opera at MALEGOT. It was fascinating to see the pictures.
And, leading on from the above comment, there was also an autographed photo of Shostakovich himself! I’m still amazed when I see photographs of composers… part of me doesn’t quite understand how such things can exist (history is weird).

Check out the V&A site to book tickets for the exhibition. It’s still got a week or so left!

After a speedy, but much-appreciated dinner with some friends (thanks Matt and Myffy), I headed to the Opera House for Salome. I had a suitcase and a big backpack because I was heading back to Cardiff that evening, so I aimed to get there early in order to get through security and the cloakroom. As it transpired, the Opera House team were ridiculously efficient (before and after the performance) and it took no time at all – kudos all. Having made my way to the Amphitheatre I got chatting to a nice couple, since I swapped seats so that they could sit together. It was quite the view, too!

And then the opera itself…
I can see why people cite Salome as being as shocking now as it was a century ago. The horror that seems to seep out of Richard Strauss’ music is so heavy it wraps you up inside it. It climbs into your chest and your mind and your heart rate gets just that little faster… and then there are the moments when the horror becomes so gobsmackingly beautiful that you are swept away by the tide. It’s stunning. If there’s one thing I have learnt in the past twelve months (this being my second Strauss opera since June) it’s that I have fallen for Richard Strauss’ sound world big-time. I have laughed, I have been pleasantly repulsed, and my goodness I have cried (the end of ‘Rosenkav’ was particularly true of this, but there was a little tear for Salome at the end of this one, too).
This production was really rather excellent. A David McVicar revival, my main bugbear was the few moments of pointless wandering across the stage (definitely in the Top 5 of Kate’s opera sins). The direction of Jokanaan seemed to particularly suffer from this, which was a shame because Michael Volle had a very powerful voice. The set seemed to work rather well, with its grimy interior of dirty tiles and the sweeping staircase which lead from the heights of upper class living to the depressing depths of below stairs where the inhabitants became lascivious, dirty and damned. The more time characters from upstairs spent downstairs, the more their personalities or mental stability seemed to unravel. Being an overtly sexual opera, it was unsurprising that there was a bit of nudity; the exploitation of several naked females at the beginning of the opera was particularly heartbreaking (especially when the woman, silently crying at the back, slowly pulled on her clothes again, revealing herself as a maid – a commentary on sexual harassment in the workplace, perhaps?). The nakedness of the executioner, emerging from the place of incarceration with the head of John the Baptist, felt slightly less justified to me; my theory is that it was a means to highlight the lust of Salome (flipping the earlier female nudity for the pleasure of men on its head) or, on a more practical note, his being covered in blood made it easier to transfer the blood from his skin onto Salome’s clothes as she clings to him and retrieves her prize. Either way, it seemed a bit convoluted and potentially unnecessary. Michaela Schuster as Herodias did an excellent job of being the somewhat oblivious mother and goading wife, whilst John Daszak’s Herod was every bit the welcoming host, the undermined man, and the creepy, sexually charged step-father figure.
Malin Byström in the title role entirely stole the show, though. I loved, pitied, and feared Salome in equal measure. From her eclectically passionate utterances on meeting Jokannan (swinging from love to hatred at an alarming rate), to her complete manipulation of all those around her, to the uncomfortable sexual misconduct of her step-father in the Dance of the Seven Veils, and to the heartbreaking finale as she spills her heart and mind out through music, Byström seemed to live every emotion, her every movement gloriously natural – the perfect balance between flow and purpose. She has been nominated for best Female Singer in the International Opera Awards 2018, and I must say, on the back of that performance I have everything crossed for her.

I would happily watch this gem of a one act opera again. Seeing it on such a vast stage makes me wonder how it would fare in an intimate setting (being a piece so firmly centred on the dynamics of individuals’ relationships); if only it didn’t require the majesty and drama of Strauss’ orchestration!

I’m looking forward to returning to the Opera House in April, when I will be seeing another opera to have featured in the V&A exhibition… Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk!