Solti conducts Richard Strauss's Salome

R STRAUSS Salome.

Birgit Nilsson (sop) Salome Gerhard Stolze (ten)Herod Grace Hoffman (mez) Herodias Eberhard Waechter (bar) Jochanaan Waldemar Kmentt (ten) Narraboth Josephine Veasey (mez) Page Paul Kuen (ten) First Jew Stefan Schwer (ten) Second Jew Kurt Equiluz (ten) Third Jew Aron Gestner (ten) Fourth Jew Max Proebstl (bass) Fifth Jew Tom Krause (bar) First Nazarene Nigel Douglas (bass) Second Nazarene Zenon Koznowski (bass) First Soldier Heinz Holecek (bass) Second Soldier Theodor Kirschbichler (bass) A Cappadocian Liselotte Maikl (sop) A Slave Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra / Georg Solti.

Decca MET228-9; SET228-9 (two 12 in., 63s. 4d. plus 22s. 8d. PT).

We have supped so full of horrors since the first production of Strauss's Salome on December 9th, 1905, that, at any rate on the stage, the generally mature-looking Salome, the well-nourished John (I cannot abide the circumlocutory Jochanaan for a character who is so obviously John the Baptist) and the introduction of the Prophet's severed head that resembles a large cloth-covered boiled pudding, tend to make us regard the disgusting story with indulgence. I believe that in the televised version, the close-up of the climactic moment was quite repellent: and that the singers of these two parts were more than usually credible figures.

Having now heard Decca's new recording four times I realise how much of the psychological detail, filled out and stressed by the orchestra, is lost in the theatre, with the result that now there are moments when I really do feel horrified. Such a moment comes in the score at the end of the second orchestral interlude. John has listened with growing disgust to Salome's alternate love-hate of his body and hair and to the ultimate revelation of her deepest desire, to kiss his mouth; words which she repeats over and over again in an erotic frenzy until he cries "Thou art accursed". Then the full orchestra breaks out with tremendous force, playing off the themes of Salome's lust against those intended to represent the holiness and spiritual fervour of John. The quiet coda, to this outburst, then tells us of the plan that has formed in Salome's mind. The little theme of four notes that is so vividly associated with her perversity is followed by ominous chords on the brass: a few bars later the double-bassoon plays, over violas tremolo, a series of phrases that are as truly obscene as anything in music can be. But if Salome contained nothing but such libidinous music the opera would not have survived. We accept Strauss's errors of taste, and his occasional overloading of his scoring, for the sake of the lyrical beauty and the genuine dramatic power in the work.

The cast is a strong one. I wondered how Birgit Nilsson would accommodate the Isolde voice Strauss calls for to the tones of the young girl, and how she would be able to identify herself with this tainted character. In the event she does both things with complete success, rightly filling out the great soaring phrases of the music that express Salome's love rather than lust. As Strauss intended we are meant to feel some sympathy for this lonely child, corrupted from her extreme youth, and now defeated by what Strauss calls "the miracle of a great world". Nilsson's beauty of tone, her soft high notes, and her voluptuously curved phrases deserve the greatest praise. There is a wealth of insinuation in her demand to know if John is an old man – one feels she knows the answer perfectly well! – and lovely seductive tone in her persuading of Narraboth to disobey Herod's order and bring the Prophet out of the cistern for her to gaze upon. I noted also the proud tone of her "I am Salome, daughter of Herodias, Princess of Judaea". This is indeed a great and thrilling performance.

Eberhard Waechter, as John, sounds excellent when singing in the cistern (the effect is very well suggested), he can cope successfully with the sometimes trying tessitura of his part and even better he gives John's music a moving and sincere dignity which its banal nature does not really deserve (the chief of his themes found its right place in Act 2 of Der Rosenkavalier when Ochs enters as Sophie's bridegroom!). When he is brought out of the cistern this John's voice cannot summon up enough tone to support his denunciatory phrases, and Solti might have been kinder here. But Waechter does sound like a young man possessing the physical attraction he had for Salome and if his tone is not full at least it reminds one that a diet of locusts and honey is not very sustaining, nor is imprisonment good for the voice.

Tom Krause makes a beautiful thing of the short part of the First Nazarene, and I only wish Strauss had made it longer. This is lovely singing, and so is that of Waldemar Kmentt to whom Strauss has given some of the most grateful music in the opera. He said that the opening phrase "How beautiful the Princess Salome is tonight" came spontaneously into his mind when he began to compose the opera. A word of praise to Josephine Veasey's characterisation of the Page, another of the many small parts which is well taken. I think Grace Hoffman could have made more of the vindictive nymphomaniac Herodias, to whom, in the Bible story, the idea of suggesting that Salome should ask for the Prophet's head is attributed.

Gerhard Stolze is admirable as Herod. He does not copy Patzak's equally admirable performance but has clearly thought out for himself how best to convey the hysterical fears and desires of this contemptible character. Herod's concealed desire for Salome, his daughter-in-law, is expressed (in the section from 178 to 183) in music that contains some familiar cliches of Viennese light opera. His father, as Herodias spits out, was (according to Wilde) a camel-driver, and evidently transmitted his musical tastes to his son!

A better side of Herod's nature appears in his momentary sorrow at Narraboth's suicide, a few phrases expressively sung by Stolze. He is very effective in his terror at the news that there is one who can raise men from the dead – perhaps he is thinking of the brother he murdered – and in the long scene in which he tries to deflect Salome from her macabre demand and yet honour his promise with sumptuous gifts: the whining tone Stolze sometimes adopts is a good touch. Strauss said "I had been long criticising the fact that opera based on oriental and Jewish subjects lacked true oriental colour and scorching sun" (Delibes, Bizet, Massenet!) and so took his huge palette of colours and remedied that in no uncertain manner. Solti makes no attempt, as some conductors have done, to tone down the gorgeous colouring or the shattering climaxes, and I think he is right. It is anyway never for a moment in doubt that the orchestral playing is from start to finish superb, and I despair of being able to do justice to it in this review, which would need constant citation, but will just mention the beautiful quality of the famed Vienna Philharmonic strings, and of the horns – especially in the Prophet's main theme – but every member of the orchestra deserves special praise.

Here then, brought most vividly and excitingly into our homes is this extraordinary opera of obsession. The Page, in hero-worshipping adoration of Narraboth, he desirous of Salome, Herod frenetically so, Herodias hungry for any man that takes her fancy but never appeased, Salome having no use for Captains of the Guard, or any of the men a Princess of Judea could summon with a flick of a finger. She is out for big game, a chaste man, young and beautiful and holy, that is the man she must and will have. Such is the ignoble opera that nevertheless remains – if you like – so perversely fascinating.

And now the recording: and here one enters a sphere of controversy, as I have indicated in an article elsewhere in this number. In the booklet – containing also the German and English libretto and an excellent account of the story by Peggie Cochrane – John Culshaw writes about a new development in recording techniques which has been added to the multistudio technique already used by Decca for the recordings of Tristan, Otello, etc. It is called "Sonicstage" – a designation rather reminiscent of buses! Its purpose is to render audible in correct proportion to the rest of the vast orchestra (it averages 115 musicians) "every desirable detail in the score". There could be argument about what is or is not desirable, and Mr Culshaw sets out a number of references out of hundreds that could be chosen, which the listener can check from the full score (Boosey and Hawkes, 3 gns.). The results of the use of this new technique, in a score remarkable for its exotic colouring and for the handling of an orchestra with extreme virtuosity, is sensational: but that is not to say it has been achieved by exaggeration or monitoring, as Mr Culshaw makes perfectly clear. He quotes "an eminent professor of music, a Strauss expert", as declaring that he had no idea, until hearing this recording, "of the fantastic detail one should, but does not, normally hear".

That is the truth. One can say that one does not expect to hear so much of the detail in a live performance, in which the eye is engaged as well as the ear, one could also say that the composer did not intend so much particularisation – but that point can only be dealt with when Decca record, with this new technique, the music of a living composer and he pronounces judgment.

In one matter the producer has added to Strauss. The stage darkens (except at Covent Garden!) as Salome kisses John's dead mouth and her muttered words after this are subject to "a further acoustic innovation", that is they acquire what could be called 'a close-up' sound which gives Salome's crouching figure frightening isolation and even pathos.

There is no point in comparing this recording with any of its predecessors. It is another notable advance in recording technique, treated with a sense of responsibility and subjected to constant criticism by those most nearly concerned. It needs to be played, I found, with a higher level of volume, on my equipment, than normal; and I still feel it would be an improvement to have the singers, here and there, a little more forward, but only a little. In general the balance is satisfying – the Jews's dispute, by the way, is remarkably successful – and the vocal tone more appealing than ever before.

I end with heartiest congratulations to all who have taken part in a great achievement, and I shall now proceed to play the recording for the fifth, but certainly not the last, time.

AR (Alec Robertson)

This recording of Salome is now available as a mid-price two-CD set 475 7528. Read Alex Ross's Gramophone Collection on the opera from May 2008