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