Salome in Silver

Salome was 16 and slinky-slim. Birgit Nilsson is 46 and boatswain-burly. As for casting the Swede in the title role of Richard Strauss's Salome, the idea seemed roughly comparable to starring Judith Anderson as Lolita. But New York's Metropolitan Opera does, on occasion, have imagination, and for its long-awaited restaging of Salome, the Met put its money on Birgit.

And why not? That dance of the veils says why not, seven times. Particularly since the Met's last Salome in 1962 featured lissome Jane Rhodes, whose slow, seductive peel is still burned on many an opera glass. Vocally, though--for those who could also listen--Rhodes's performance was less than scintillating. And those B-flats were uniformly flat. But it is an especially difficult role to measure up to, for Strauss's score calls for a teen-age temptress with an Isolde voice--a titmouse that roars.

Birgit Nilsson may not have the body, but her voice does--and so last week she made her U.S. debut in the role.

For Nilsson and the Met, it was a stunning triumph. Wisely underplaying the adolescent siren, she seduced instead with the flashing beauty of her voice. She sang as though her lungs were made of the finest Swedish steel.

Her effortless, flawless soprano swooped and soared above Strauss's heavy, quirky orchestration even when she was writhing on the floor to entice the lecherous Herod. Her phrasing was impeccable, her tone as silver-pure as a Nordic winterscape. Even John the Baptist would have lost his head.

German Set Designer Rudolph Heinrich conjured up a murky nether world dominated by a giant, evil-colored moon that slides malevolently across a leaden sky. The aura of decadence set the mood for Salome's dance of the veils. For Nilsson's performance, it was more choreographed hootchy-kootchy than basic bump and grind. Coiffed in a black mushroom wig, she swayed and shimmied, shedding red chiffon veils until she was down to black net tights and corset.

It would never draw in Las Vegas, but for the Met it seemed about right. Indeed, so much was just right with the performance that Nilsson's Salome will go down as the finest the Met has heard since Ljuba Welitsch sang the part 15 years ago. At the end, the first-night audience gave Nilsson a half-hour standing ovation. "It was," said Nilsson, "the biggest ovation I have ever heard." After 30 minutes of curtain calls, who even remembered those seven veils?

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