How would YOU start 
                ‘An Introduction’ to Gluck’s great ‘reform’ 
                opera ‘Orfeo ed Euridice’? Not, I suspect, 
                with a brief musical extract from the 
                work in question, followed by equally 
                short samples of Monteverdi’s ‘Orfeo’ 
                and, least of all, Offenbach’s, ‘Orfée 
                aus Enfers’ (Orpheus in the Underworld) 
                famous for its ‘can-can’ and burlesque 
                sending up of the legend. Yet that is 
                part of the range of unexpected delights 
                and the mixture of erudition and entertainment 
                of this series. I have become increasingly 
                enthusiastic about the series as I have 
                learned facts new to me. Often I have 
                been brought up short by the highlighting 
                of musical connections which had hitherto 
                never crossed my mind. 
              
 
              
The erudite includes 
                comments on the earliest known opera, 
                Jacapo Peri’s (1561-1633) ‘Dafne’ (1597). 
                His second, ‘Euridice’ (1600), the earliest 
                known opera to have survived, is based 
                on the legend concerning us here. After 
                summarising the legend, the narrative 
                suggests it was appealing for its shortness 
                and variety of situations. Writers such 
                as Virgil, Ovid, Milton, Cocteau and 
                Shakespeare expounded it. 
              
 
              
In respect of the Gluck 
                opera, we are introduced to the fact 
                that the composer wrote at least three 
                distinct versions of the work whilst 
                Berlioz (1869) and Wagner also had a 
                go at making a definitive version of 
                the composer’s efforts. Part of the 
                reason for the different versions was 
                Gluck’s casting of a contralto castrati 
                in the title role in the first production. 
                He made a French version for a production 
                in Paris in 1774 with the name part 
                transposed for tenor. 
              
 
              
The matter of castrati 
                is dealt with in some detail (tr. 2), 
                not shrinking from the questions ‘could 
                they’ and ‘did they’; the answer being 
                yes, they could and did. The fact that 
                offspring would not result made castrati 
                attractive as lovers! The training and 
                vocal skills of the renowned castrati 
                are expounded as well as their androgynous 
                fascination. Vocal skills could extend 
                to a range of three octaves at full 
                powerful voice allied to a capacity 
                to hold a note for a full minute without 
                breath, prodigious skills indeed and 
                which commanded large fees. However, 
                such skills were not the domain of every 
                castrato, nor did all those who were 
                emasculated develop voices that would 
                earn even a modest living. They were 
                emasculated in every sense of the word 
                and doubtless psychologically crippled 
                too. Track 3 blends consideration of 
                the castrati with the development of 
                Gluck’s various versions of the opera 
                and the addition of ballet music for 
                Paris. Gluck’s life and other works 
                such as ‘Alceste’ are touched upon (tr. 
                4) as is the matter of ‘reform opera’, 
                with an explanation of the meaning of 
                that phrase which I, and ninety percent 
                of commentators, will use when considering 
                the composer’s works. The narrative 
                moves on to the issue of ‘modern’ or 
                ‘period’ instrument performance. This 
                is examined and explained in the ideal 
                way. It is illustrated by musical examples, 
                in this case derived from Naxos recordings. 
                The musical illustrations are succinct 
                and to the point. They are taken from 
                the Naxos’s complete version (Drottningholm/Ostman) 
                from a live performance on period instruments. 
                The clear recording is evident from 
                the overture, which starts the second 
                part of the CD (tr. 5). Here the musical 
                extracts are illuminated by narrative 
                explaining the musical and musicological 
                context. A typical example is that examining 
                the contralto voice type (tr. 7). Some 
                might find the narrative interruption 
                to the musical extract excessive. But 
                this second part isn’t meant to be just 
                the best musical bits highlighted. It 
                is intended to extend understanding 
                and enjoyment of this wonderful and 
                much loved melodic work. In my view 
                it achieves those objectives superbly. 
                Whether you are a beginner or an experienced 
                opera buff. I strongly recommend this 
                disc to anyone contemplating purchase 
                of the complete work or already owning 
                a recording. It will greatly enhance 
                your listening pleasure. 
              
Robert J Farr