So who is Richard Strauss’s Salome?

Is the necrophilic protagonist a spoiled, sensuous virgin fatally corrupted by a degenerate society? The composer, silly man, seemed to think so. Or is the Princess of Judea a blowsy, boozy floozy who evokes Jean Harlow and Marlene Dietrich, sings sweetly when she can yet screams under pressure? That was the case on Tuesday night.