Gluck : Orfeo ed Euridice
The Chorus of Orfeo ed Euridice
The Orchestra of Scottish Opera
Kenneth Montgomery
For an opera that's so seminal to the development of the genre, it's a little astonishing just how much editorial variation you can get in performances. Even Monteverdi's operas, which pre-date Gluck's Orfeo by over a century, are more editorially stable. As a result, comparing productions between each other can be a bit pointless. When, on top of that, you get directors re-organising sections to suit their purpose, well, there's not a lot to be said. Director Ashley Page and conductor Kenneth Montgomery have here taken basically the original version of 1762, but with the best known additions from the later Paris edition, re-positioned the ballet of the Furies, and re-distributed three acts into two. Actually, on the whole, it works quite well, although by placing the single interval just after the passage through Hades, you do lose something of the mirror effect that the original second act offers. However, the curtain going up again on the Elysian Fields after an interval does give the idea of a true journey having taken place, of which we get an impression on the return trip at what would normally be the start of Act 3.
The design, by Johan Engels, is fairly minimalist, but not ineffective. The bare stage, mostly black, is dominated by a three-sided perspex cube, whose walls and floor are etched with a shatter pattern reminiscent of a bullet or pellet passing through laminated glass. The cube can rotate, sometimes open to the front, sometimes an obstructing wall, and reflects the simple colour changes of each scene. The chorus of living people is somewhat amusingly dressed in a sort of 1950s Riviera jet-set chic, while the Furies here are solely dancers, the chorus being more a group of damned souls from an earlier era, and the Blessed Spirits (the singing ones, that is), are a bit creepily swathed from crown to toe in green and white drapes. I was quite impressed that they managed to move around without tripping up, and were able to sing clearly through the fabric. It all sounds a little confused, like this, but the overall effect was not displeasing. The one thing that occasionally bothered me - and it may have been a result of where I was sitting in the auditorium - was that when the stage was mostly dark, the mirror-black floor was also reflecting the conductor and a fair bit of the orchestra, which I doubt was intentional.
It's not uncommon, these days, when staging earlier operas, in which there is frequently an important dance element, to render these numbers in real choreography, and not some more or less successful attempt at coordinated movement from the chorus. Page being primarily a choreographer, there were eight dancers to illustrate the several ballet passages in this opera. The results, I thought, were a bit mixed; the mourners at the start weren't very promising, but the Furies had their moments. I didn't like the choreography for the first pair of Blessed Spirits, but did like that for the second pair.
As for the orchestral side of things, there were one or two points where I thought the orchestra was attempting period practice not too successfully - the accompaniment of "Che puro ciel" was a case in point, the balance was all over the place, spoiling the serene shimmer of that moment. Also, rather oddly, there was a pair of natural trumpets being used in the Overture which sounded decidedly strange alongside the modern horns and trombones. First night wobbles (probably) made for a very ragged start to the opening scene, and the off-stage band suffered from the slightly sour intonation that is common to such arrangements, but on the whole the orchestra was a very positive presence.
Chorus and orchestra are vital, but there are only three principals, and two of them have maybe less than fifteen minutes stage time apiece. Which means that the title role is all-important. Australian Caitlin Hulcup was the Orfeo, a deep-toned mezzo quite close to a true contralto, with a pleasing timbre and good, clear sound, but not all that expressive to my ear, although a satisfactory stage presence. Ana Quintans was not any more expressive as Amor; her aria, which should be a rather astonishingly flirty contrast after the deep gloom of the opening scene, more or less went in one ear and out the other. Lucy Hall, on the other hand, was a fine Euridice, fiery and plaintive in just the right measure, and a sure, bright tone. It's her first appearance with Scottish Opera; I trust it won't be her last.
[Next : 24th February]
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