Orphée et Eurydice

by Christoph Willibald Gluck

seen at Covent Garden on 30 September 2015

This is Gluck's 1774 revision of his Italian opera of 1762, prepared for the Paris Opera. The castrato role of Orfeo was altered to be sung by a (high) tenor, and the dance movements were substantially expanded to satisfy Parisian taste.

This production is directed by Hofesh Shechter (principally for the choreography) and John Fulljames. Orphée is sung by Juan Diego Flórez, Amour by Amanda Forsythe, and Eurydice by Lucy Crowe. John Eliot Gardiner conducted the English Baroque Soloists with the Monteverdi Choir, with the Hofesh Shechter Company providing the dancers. The set and costumes were designed by Conor Murphy, and the lighting by Lee Curran.

The Orpheus myth cries out for musical treatment, being about the power of music. Orpheus, grief-stricken at the untimely death of his wife Eurydice (during their wedding feast), is permitted to reclaim her from Hades because his music moves the spirits who would prevent him. However, he must not look back at Eurydice while leading her out to new life. He fails to observe this condition, and Eurydice is lost to him.

In Gluck's version, Amour relates to Orphée the concession from the gods and the condition they have imposed. Furies at the gates of Hades are placated by Orphée's music, but he himself is silenced by the vision of the Blessed Spirits in Elysium. He wakens Eurydice, but she is puzzled and then distraught by his apparent coldness - no-one has explained to her the condition imposed on Orphée. Eventually, unable to bear her reproaches, and perhaps stung by her apparent preference for staying in Elysium, he looks at her and she falls lifeless again. His subsequent grief and determination to join his wife in death leads Amour to intervene again, reuniting him with his wife as the spirits dance.

The current production focuses on states of grief as exemplified by Orphée's behaviour and development. Eurydice is at her most passionate and human (or lively) as she wrestles with the conundrum of meeting her husband again but finding him unaccountably cold to her. When she is revived by Amour she remains passive, an enigmatic presence which fades into the background during the final dances, leaving Orphée alone, but perhaps more reconciled to his loss. (His subsequent fate in the legends - his own death - is not alluded to.)

The singing was excellent, the chorus sharp and characterful whether as mourners, Furies or Blessed spirits, and the soloists brilliantly clear. Juan Diego Flórez deservedly won the two ovations of the night for the two great arias of the piece. All this was matched by clear and energetic orchestral playing.

The staging was intriguing and atmospheric. The orchestra was on stage with acting areas both in front of and behind them. They were on a platform which was on occasion raised as if they were playing on the roof of a temple, and at other times was lowered so that only the tips of the violinists bows could be seen. Three great panels were suspended above, shifted according to need to help with the acoustics, and pierced with holes through which light could be shone with dramatic effect. At the opening of Act III, the most dramatic part of the opera when Orphée and Eurydice struggle and fail to understand one another, these panels were low and parallel to the floor, giving a claustrophobic feel to the whole scene.

The dancers were fluid and exciting to watch, and the chorus often mingled with them and performed simple movements, while some of the dancers were miming the words, which unified the two groups in an unshowy way. But for the extended dance scenes, the Hofesh Shechter Company really came into their own, producing loose and easy movements that could quickly change into staccato bursts of jerking. Their costumes were dark, almost grungy, for the Furies, and pale diaphanous greens and blues for the Blessed Spirits, but they were not uniform. Each dancer thus had an indication of individuality amongst the group, and while there were no soloists as such, on most occasions there were interesting variations on the steps and gestures constantly snagging one's attention.

Considering that the opera is almost entirely static in dramatic terms, this staging brought variety and underlined the emotional arc of the piece with great attention to detail. For much of the time Orphée is enclosed in his own grief, and the intervention of Amour, being a transaction between a human and a god, was necessarily restrained. As mentioned before, the intense human interaction is between Orphée and Eurydice at the beginning of Act II, and here the awkward fact is that there can be no eye contact between the two until the fateful breaking of the god's prohibition. This situation, of two people on the vast Covent Garden stage unable to connect  was acutely unsettling, helping to show how Orphée was eventually unable to obey the gods - wonderfully done.