Review: The real star of Lyric Opera’s ‘Salome’ is Strauss’ extraordinary score

Filled with moral depravity and twisted thinking, Richard Strauss’ “Salome” is a sordid little story that remains shocking and even a little stomach-turning more than 120 years after it debuted in Dresden, Germany.

For some tastes, it’s no doubt too much. After all, its famous — or infamous — final scene features the teenage princess, Salome, hugging, caressing and ultimately kissing a severed head. Not something you see every day, even in the often-violent world of opera.

But for many opera lovers, its taste of horror has made it a classic work with a long history of famous sopranos who have eagerly taken on the crazed title character in what is a demanding dramatic vehicle like no other.

After a 20-year absence, “Salome” returned Sunday to the Lyric Opera of Chicago stage for six performances. The production, first seen at London’s Royal Opera House in 2008, was originally staged by a Lyric favorite, director David McVicar, and it’s a troubled take, one that arguably detracts more than it adds.

The opera’s libretto is based on a German translation of Oscar Wilde’s play, “Salomé,” which in turn draws on the New Testament account of King Herod’s promise to give his stepdaughter anything if she would dance for him. Her demand: the head of St. John the Baptist, who is held in his prison.

In an apparent bid to ratchet up the baseness, rapaciousness and cruelty inherent in this story, McVicar has shifted the action to fascist Italy of the 1930s and the rampant decadence of that time and place.

But the change sets up weird geographical and chronological clashes, especially given the fact that King Herod, or Herod Antipas, was a real historical figure who ruled Judea in the 1st century. He is shown here wearing 1930s formal attire alongside uniformed Italian soldiers. It’s just weird and distracting.

Among the other bizarre anachronisms is a sword-wielding executioner who takes off a soldier’s long tunic to reveal his totally naked body, and it is in that state (Why? For what possible reason? Sensationalism?) that he descends into a kind of dungeon to kill the imprisoned prophet.

Also odd is the set, designed by Es Devlin, which is two stories, though the audience can only see the bottom few feet of the top level where King Herod’s lavish banquet takes place. Below is a stark, bunker-like kitchen area, where the waiters and soldiers hang out and the bulk of the action unfolds.

Salome and later Herod and his other guests come down to this dreary space after their dinner, which is ludicrous, because there is no way they would venture there, especially considering the stench no doubt emanating from a kind of abattoir at the back with a hanging carcass in view (also apparently for sensationalist effect).

Salome’s famous “Dance of the Seven Veils” is rendered here with Herod and her swirling through a surreal, dreamlike sequence of sliding walls and video projections — a lot of technical razzle-dazzle that really doesn’t add up to anything with real impact — visual or emotional.

Any presentation of “Salome” rises or falls on the singer in the title role. While there was little about her performance that was transformative, soprano Jennifer Holloway more than held her own, which is saying a good deal given the role’s unique vocal and dramatic challenges.

But Holloway, filling in for the originally scheduled Elina Stikhina, who withdrew in December due to a pregnancy, conveyed little sense of the princess’ teenage youthfulness. And the culminating 17-minute aria with the severed head, as chilling as it was, could have used even a bit more maniacal glee.

Bass-baritone Nicholas Brownlee, who like Holloway is making his Lyric debut, showed himself to be a complete natural in the role of John the Baptist, known in this opera as Jochanaan. He fully commanded the stage early in this opera with his gripping stage presence and stentorian prophetic pronouncements. Tenor Alex Boyer, who joined the cast two weeks ago when Brandon Jovanovich withdrew for personal reasons, potently conveyed the revolting fecklessness and egomania of Herod.

The real star of this opera, though, is Strauss’ extraordinary score, which gives complexity and dimension to this gritty tale. The music can be eerily tender and unexpectedly uplifting at times, but what comes across more often are its jagged edges, blunt dissonances, extended harmonies and ominous rumblings with star parts for unlikely low instruments like the bass clarinet (Susan Warner and Wagner Campos) and rarely heard bass oboe (Margaret Butler).

The Lyric Opera Orchestra — significantly augmented here to 94 musicians — played masterfully under the fervent, insightful leadership of conductor Tomáš Netopil, chief conductor of the FOK-Prague Symphony, who was in Lyric’s pit for the first time.