Still, for me the standard of comparison for Salomes is Ljuba Welitsch. One of my reviews that has from time to time surfaced from the deeply suppressed “was I too harsh?” region of my brain is the one I wrote for Keynote upon the 1981 release of a double album in the Met’s Soria series. This was in many ways a luxurious and well-curated collection of Met broadcasts, thoroughly annotated, brought up to a then-high level of sonic restoration, and sold to those who donated a tidy sum to a company fund. But sometimes the selection of material seemed more attuned to the popularity and reputations of certain artists than to the quality of the performances. This one looked like a natural: the two one-act Strauss tragedies, both in performances from 1952, both conducted by Fritz Reiner, and both starring sopranos who had created recent sensations in their roles (Varnay sang the Elektra). The main difficulty was that that in the case of Salome, the sensation wasn’t recent enough. And an alternative was available.

I missed seeing Welitsch in this, her most celebrated part. I did see her as Aida and Donna Anna, listened to the 1949 broadcast of Salome, and gave many playings to her recording of the final scene with Reiner and the Met orchestra. I was of course very young then, my listening and watching skills in an early stage of development. Nonetheless, I gathered the basics of the Welitsch presence—a brilliant, soaring voice and a command of the stage and of those on it with her, even when those included experienced artists who knew how to stand their ground. By 1981 my skills were full-grown, and my aural picture of the singer as well, through her other recordings. And for their elaborate Strauss/Reiner package, the Met had passed over the 1949 broadcast for that of 1952, by which time Welitsch’s voice was into the crisis that would shortly end her career in leading roles. ^(I)When, for this article, I started to re-listen to the ’52 release, my “was I too harsh?” gremlin popped back up. Gosh, this wasn’t so bad—those soldiers, that Narraboth, that Page, Welitsch with the edge on her sassy remarks and a fair measure of that bright, free-running tone, the orchestra churning away darkly as if it knew the meaning and importance of what’s going on. But as the challenges mount, it becomes clear that something’s wrong. She’s backing off, afraid to cut loose and fully engage the support system, and instead putting together a string of clever evasions. She makes it through, but the overall effect is disappointing and worrying. I felt, though, that I should still check back on ’49.