When it first arrived in 1986 Gardiner’s magnificent set did a
great deal to rehabilitate Gluck’s modern reputation and it remains
a revelation today. It reappears now as a Decca Original, though
one imagines that Universal are getting their titles mixed up
as this set first appeared on Philips 416 148-2. Gluck’s “reform”
principles achieve their apogee here with music firmly in the
service of the text throughout. Gardiner and his team are fully
in touch with Gluck’s keen sense of drama helped, no doubt, by
their experience on stage at Lyon.
Gardiner himself remains the leading light
of this performance and is its chief virtue. His sense of
dramatic pacing has never been finer in an opera recording
and you can hear this right from the opening storm scene which
crackles with excitement, leading naturally into Iphigénie’s
opening cries which seem to grow organically out of the orchestra.
His control of transitions is masterly, not least in the first
act as the storm abates, leading into Iphigénie’s lament and
then the arrival of the tyrant Thoas. His pacing – and use
of pauses – is at its best in the Act 3 scene when Iphigénie
has to choose whether to kill Oreste or Pylade so that we
really feel the character’s awful dilemma, and he controls
the unfolding of the breakneck final scene so that it is exciting
without ever feeling rushed. The players of the Lyon Orchestra
use modern instruments but play with such clarity and transparency
that you really never notice and I certainly didn’t long for
a period substitute.
He is helped by a first-rate team of soloists
led by Diana Montague’s magnificent Iphigénie. She avoids
any touch of the prima donna, singing with precision and clarity
that show her mastery of period style without ever getting
in the way. Her arias, not least the great O malheureuse
Iphigénie, get fully in touch with the drama of the situation
and the horrible dilemma of whose life she must spare. Allen’s
Oreste is dramatic and intense, clearly a character who has
been worn out by his flight from the Furies. His vast experience
of the Romantic repertoire helps Allen to enrich this character
into a convincing flesh and blood human but he too sings with
informed clarity so that his interpretation is never muddy.
John Aler’s tenor is warm and affectionate as Pylade, while
Massis’ Thoas is bitingly intense, his fantastic vocal acting
showing a king agitated to the end of his tether.
The highlight of the set is the magnificent
second act. Oreste’s “calm” aria is deliciously undermined
by the incessant intrusions of the orchestral strings, and
the subsequent recitative duet between he and Iphigénie is
hair-raising in its dramatic bite. Particularly striking
is the way in which Montague chooses to shade down her voice
for an aside in which she comes to terms with Oreste’s death
before imperiously sweeping out of the room, her public face
fully back in place.
So
anyone interested in Gluck or Gardiner need not hesitate. The
sound is as clear and attractive as it has ever been and there
are some very good booklet essays as well as full libretto with
English translations. Anyone seeking period instruments can turn
with confidence to Minkowski on Archiv, but no one will be disappointed
with Gardiner.
Simon Thompson
Iphigénie – Diana Montague (soprano) 
