on the MET opera’s 2008 production of Salome
The 2008 production seems to present Salome as a mentally unstable child robbed of her childhood in a toxic environment within a contemporary framework, surrounded by characters of a multitude of moral qualities. This interpretation must however be further investigated. Opera is tricky – its history posed by the story and its distance from the world today could make the genre seem unapproachable. However, these qualities of the genre are also what makes it revealing, since a performance involves the incorporation of elements not normally present in a purely musical work, most notably the staging and set design. These elements tend to be the most immediate parts of a performance, for this reason they are also arguably the most reflective of the interpretation of the time of the performance.
Throughout the opera, Salome takes on different “personalities”, from coercive (seen in her interaction with Narraboth in scene 1), to seductive and immodest (dance of seven veils), to naive and almost dumb (interaction with the prophet’s head). Despite this wide spectrum of personalities, one that remains constant is her manipulative nature – from getting Narraboth to let out the prophet to indirectly killing the prophet, which at the same time satisfies Herodias without being controlled by her – it is all through the power of manipulation.
It is impossible to look purely at the music and the text in a character whose personality and morality spans both entire possible spectrums, because the “truth” of a musical passage comes from the accordance and/or discordance between the music and the text. The interaction between Salome and Narraboth in scene 1 is an example of this interplay: comparing Salome's light, lively and Narraboth’s rigid, decisive music alone, it is clear that she is portrayed in a positive personality, while he is for the most part in a negative one. Especially with the promise to pick him flowers, Salome’s words suggest the innocence of a child, who is trying to convince the soldier to do her a favor on their good terms. However, as we take into consideration her erotic movements on stage, as well as the subtle yet universal undertone of the parallel between floral analogies and femininity in the libretto, it is revealed that Salome is coercing Narraboth by implying sexual advantages.
In this instance, we observe that through movements and an understanding of the libretto, a certain distance is introduced to the music and text, which allows us to perceive the characters as having the opposite moral quality than we otherwise would have perceived. Similarly, after Salome’s dance, she demands Tetrach’s oath be fulfilled with a decisive, declamatory voice supported by the music, while Tetrach’s voice and musical support is weak and frantic. We can conclude in an immediate way that Salome is justly confronting Tetrarch for trying to break his promise, making us sympathize with her. However, given the previous scenes, we consider Tetrarch’s lusty, and Salome’s manipulative natures, getting him into this situation, as well as him begging Salome to not make someone do an action which we – as the audience agree with – is evil, we are presented with the alternative choice to sympathize with Tetrarch instead, and seeing Salome as evil natured, who seduces him and takes advantage of him.
The final scene is the most complex. As Salome holds the head of Jochanaan, we are presented with a second-order contradiction. Following the presentation of this contradiction is yet another more significant act: Salome confronting a contradiction herself.
Up to this point in the opera, Salome has always been portrayed as someone in control of the situation, she always knows what she wants and what she is doing. However, upon kissing the lips of Jochanaan, she expresses the overwhelmingly bitter taste, accompanied by a ghostly unstable yet expressive music, implying a subversion of her expectation. We then see her thought process from being confused by this surprising taste to her busting into an emotional climax, concluding that it is because love has a bitter taste. We are forced to believe that Salome is truly being genuine at this moment because of her confusion, thus called to sympathize with her conflicted, yet childishly-superficial understanding of love, while at the same time to reflect upon our own understanding of love, to question it alongside Salome’s. In this way, instead of seeing ourselves as somehow morally above Salome, we put ourselves on the same level with her.
The last line of the opera also serves a significant reflective function: as Tetrarch orders Salome’s execution, we witness him making a moral judgment – that Salome is evil, she must be executed. However, with the knowledge of Tetrarch’s own wickedness and Salome’s ignorance as a child who possesses power, yet is suffering in this toxic environment with everybody around her wanting to sexually engage with her, a distance is created for us, the spectator. We face the dilemma between a universal “no, nobody is evil here” and a particular “yes, I am on Tetrarch’s side, Salome must be executed!”.
The combination of these complications present the story as a complex web of connections, making an overall moral judgment impossible. The extent to which this interpretation is the intention of Jürgen Flimm is unknown to me, but that is at the same time not as interesting a question. What I appreciate is the relevance of such a moral challenge specifically in the context of a contemporary rendition of an ancient story. Just like when we are called to look at history “through their own lenses”, discouraging overall moral judgments, this phenomenon is also applicable in today’s world – morality seem to always be subject to the complex interplay between contexts and conditions, even within the scope of one single individual, making an immediate overall moral judgment equally unreasonable. The act of contemplating morality is in this way spotlighted, becoming itself the subject of the production. We ourselves are the ones we must sympathize with, for the seemingly constant necessity imposed upon us to make objective moral judgments, despite its impossibility.
