A sinuous clarinet solo opens Richard Strauss’ Salome, setting the stage for one of the composer’s most extravagant scores. The score’s excesses are a good match for the decadence and debauchery of the plot, and has become known as a showpiece for the orchestra as much as for the singers onstage. It’s shocking, then, to hear that the ever-enterprising Dan Schlosberg has arranged the opera for eight clarinets. It’s even more shocking that it works so well.
Schlosberg’s audacious arrangements are the soul of Heartbeat Opera, one of New York’s most innovative opera companies, and his past work has successfully condensed Puccini, Tchaikovsky and Verdi’s scores for chamber orchestra. But Salome is his boldest and best work yet, his octet of clarinettists (covering a total of 28 instruments) and two percussionists achieving a dazzling range of colour under the watchful eye of conductor Jacob Ashworth. Schlosberg gives the twisted waltz in the Dance of the Seven Veils to the saxophone, lending it a queasy, sinister aura.
We lose about ten minutes of Strauss’ score, cutting the theological debate between the Jews and Nazarenes and condensing the various soldiers into a single part. Director Elizabeth Dinkova makes clever use of the Space at Irondale, with the stage and orchestra sandwiched by the audience. It feels both claustrophobic and voyeuristic, especially with Jokanaan stripped to his underwear in a glass prison centre stage. The set is reminiscent of a prison control room, with clever use of video screens and live cameras, and Dinkova brings both freshness and humour to her direction. The one misstep is the use of Tom Hammond’s English translation, whose stilted prose could use an update.
The advantage of a reduced orchestration and intimate venue is that the singers need not fight to be heard, but Heartbeat manages to cast singers with the requisite vocal weight. In the title role, Summer Hassan possesses a lustrous full lyric soprano with a gleaming upper register. Making her first appearance in sneakers and a grotesquely large tulle skirt, her Salome is both manipulated and manipulator, putting on a beguiling, silvery sound to entice Narraboth. She’s at her vocal best in the final scene, with a snarling chest voice and soaring tone.
She finds her vocal match in Patrick Cook’s Herod, a true Heldentenor with clarion tone and exciting stage presence. He’s both terrifying and pathetic, towering over Hassan’s diminutive Salome and executing his striptease (an inspired role reversal) with aplomb. It’s a pleasure to hear a youthful voice actually sing the role, rather than an aging singer barking their way through the part. He spars brilliant with Manna K Jones’ Herodias, a magnetic presence with magnificent side-eye even if the role lies marginally too low for her soprano.
Nathaniel Sullivan’s eloquent lyric baritone is lighter than we are accustomed, but it pays off – his Jochanaan possesses both the vocal gravitas for his biblical prophecies as well as a tender vulnerability that makes the character human. He’s a magnificent actor, fanatical and heartbreaking in turn, and his death (in full view of the audience) is a gripping piece of theatre. Under Dinkova’s direction, one almost understands the mutual attraction between Salome and Jochanaan under the most twisted of circumstances. There are fine contributions too from Melina Jaharis’ Page, David Morgans' Narraboth, and Jeremy Harr’s Soldier, who each bring polished voices and absolute dramatic commitment.
Operagoers who miss the grandeur of Strauss’ full score will have the chance to see Salome in the Met’s upcoming new production. But it’s hard to imagine that the bigger house will be able to offer this level of artistic daring and visceral intimacy that has made Heartbeat Opera the city’s most exciting opera company.
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