Produced by John Culshaw
and engineered by Gordon Parry this
is one of the most blatant examples
of Decca’s spectacular Sonicstage recordings
from the early stereo age. It could
be argued that this is exactly what
this music needs. Strauss’s orchestral
palette balancing utter vulgarity and
ravishing subtlety has probably never
been performed, let alone recorded,
with such uninhibited ferocity. Relish
also the glow to the strings in the
many passages where longing, desire
and perverse lust are depicted. Solti,
always one to revel in the excitement
of the moment in preference to the long
lines, nevertheless seems to have been
in especially happy circumstances during
this period. Das Rheingold, Aida,
Rigoletto, Siegfried, Don Carlos and
Götterdämmerung come
to mind. This Salome may even
be counted as the finest achievement
of them all. It is an overblown reading
in an overblown recording, but ‘overblown’
is probably the most accurate adjective
for this opera. The carnal brutality
is whipped home with such grandeur and
so uncompromisingly that one gives in.
Others, notably Karajan in his EMI recording
from the late 1970s, have brought out
more beauty and sensuality but at the
same time also lowered the temperature
a few degrees. Solti’s treatment is
more in line with what Strauss must
have wanted. I have admired Karajan’s
reading for 25 years, but when it comes
to the crunch it is Solti who wins hands
down. In this latest 96kHz – 24-bit
remastering the sound is even fuller
and the sheen on the Vienna Phil’s strings
even glossier, so much that on my machine
there was a hint of unwanted fizz to
the highest notes, but not enough to
detract from the enjoyment – if that
is the correct word in this case. In
the instances when there is no need
to be considerate towards the singers
(CD1, end of track 6 and again end of
track 9) Solti – and the listeners –
can wallow in a torrent of magnificent
playing from the VPO. Of course Salome’s
dance (CD2 track 3) is another source
of delight.
This issue is in the
series "The Originals – Legendary
Recordings from the Decca Catalogue"
and legendary it certainly is. Even
the original cover is retained and reproduced
on the cover complete with that notorious
photo of Birgit Nilsson at her most
diabolic. The reissue is also a fitting
tribute to Ms Nilsson as one of her
most consummate impersonations on record.
She may go down in history as the unsurpassable
Isolde and Brünnhilde and, possibly
also Turandot, but her Salome, later
also Elektra and The Dyer’s Wife in
Die Frau ohne Schatten were also
calling card roles. This recording definitely
belies the criticism that she was cold.
Cold she may be – and now I talk about
Salome and not Birgit. Salome is cold
in the sense that she wants her wishes
to come true, irrespective of means
and consequences. One could argue that,
in modern terms, this girl was autistic,
focusing on one particular thing, lacking
empathy. The desire, the overriding
incentive, is the lust to kiss the lips
of Jokanaan; perverse no doubt, but
passion is never completely devoid of
feeling, even empathy. When she first
looks down into the cistern to see Jokanaan,
she exclaims: "How black it is,
down there! It must be terrible to be
in so black a pit! It is like a tomb."
Nilsson conveys Salome’s awe with a
light shiver in the voice. All through
the opera she leaves the listener in
no doubt that this is a young girl.
There is no mistaking her voice for
anything but one of the greatest heroic
sopranos of all times, steady, shining
like stainless Swedish steel. It also
expands at climaxes to belittle even
Solti’s efforts to drown the singers
in his Philharmonic tornados. Likewise
impressive is her pianissimo singing
and I wonder how many hochdramatische
sopranos have ever been able to spin
such lovely soft singing on the thinnest
thread of tone imaginable; just as steady
as the fortissimos and radiating warmth!
Former Swedish Minister of Culture,
Bengt Göransson, said during a
speech held as an introduction to the
Aida performance at Dalhalla
in August, given as a tribute to Birgit
Nilsson, that he remembered a party
a number of years ago where Birgit Nilsson
was a guest of honour. As usual at Swedish
dinner parties, there was some community
singing, in which Birgit joined but
she didn’t lord "over us amateurs"
but scaled down to a community voice
with the utmost ease. Hearing her Salome
one can understand why. As a curiosity,
Nilsson recalls in her autobiography
the last recording session when she
had just sung the last tone after having
kissed Jokanaan’s chopped off head,
a large head on a tray appeared in front
of her. "I was near having a fit",
she writes. The bloody and disgusting
head, covered with green-yellow marzipan,
turned out to be a wonderfully tasty
cake. Orchestra, soloists and recording
team lustily feasted on it afterwards!
A fitting reward for a grandiose achievement.
And Birgit Nilsson
is not alone in vocal glory. Her longstanding
partner at numerous performances and
a handful of commercial recordings,
mezzo-soprano Grace Hoffman, is a Herodias
to be reckoned with. She almost matches
La Nilsson in volume and glorious tone.
One almost wishes that this evil woman
had a larger part. Magnificent is Eberhard
Wächter’s Jokanaan. Wächter
was always a very expressive singer.
My first memory of him was the legendary
second Schwarzkopf recording of Die
lustige Witwe where he was the Danilo
of one’s dreams although he was not
always ideally steady. Here, though,
there is not a trace of unevenness in
his delivery. José Van Dam on
the Karajan recording is masterly, and
possibly even nobler of tone, but Wächter
is the more incisive. Generally speaking
one both singers are ideal in relation
to their respective conductors’ approach.
Gerhard Stolze, one of the great character
tenors of his, and indeed any, time,
creates a deeply penetrating portrait
of Herod. He expresses every facet of
this unattractive but at the same time
fascinating character. CD2 tracks 5–7
should be compulsory listening for every
student of singing. How he runs through
several stages of emotions to end up
in track 7, snarling – a man brought
to the limits of his senses. Another
important tenor of the last fifty years,
Waldemar Kmentt, is an ardent Narraboth,
with his characteristic bright tones.
He was still singing at the Vienna State
Opera a few years ago.
In the long list of
secondary parts we find such names as
Josephine Veasey (Herodias’s Page),
Kurt Equiluz as Third Jew, one of the
great Bach singers of the sixties and
seventies, the young Tom Krause’s characteristic
nut-brown baritone as First Nazarene
and Heinz Holecek’s sonorous Second
Soldier, another singer who has had
an unusually long career. This careful
casting contributes to the overall excellence
of this recording.
The booklet contains
a few session photos and Aubrey Beardsley’s
Salome and Jokanaan but does
not reprint the original essay. Instead
we have Michael Kennedy’s article from
1985, probably from the first CD issue.
Full texts and translations of course
but alas, page 38 has been printed twice,
on both page 37 and 38, so listeners
without another version of the opera
will miss a couple of minutes.
A clear recommendation?
Yes, for everyone except the faint-hearted.
The Karajan, luxuriously cast as well,
has the young Hildegard Behrens an exceptionally
good Salome, more vulnerable than Birgit
Nilsson, and Agnes Baltsa a strong Herodias.
It is actually more of an antidote to
Solti’s than an alternative. Lovers
of Strauss, and this "shabby little
shocker" will need both: Solti
for the raw animal thrill, Karajan for
the opulent sensuality. If the budget
limits the choice then the Solti is
the one to have. As a complement everyone
should also invest in another Hungarian
émigré, Fritz Reiner’s
final scene, coupled with excerpts from
Elektra. With Inge Borkh, another
high-octane dramatic soprano, this is
also a classic and is now available
in superb SACD sound (review)
Göran Forsling
Wiener Philharmoniker/Georg Solti 
