Although it is not the first work that can be described as an 
                  opera, Orfeo is certainly the earliest that survives 
                  in the normal repertoire of most opera houses. The first performances 
                  took place in 1607 in the Palazzo Ducale in Mantua where the 
                  composer was a court musician to the Gonzagas. There were subsequent 
                  performances elsewhere in Italy. Orfeo was published 
                  in two separate editions in Venice in 1609 and 1615. This early 
                  success was not maintained, and the work was virtually forgotten 
                  in the nineteenth century. The twentieth century saw a revival 
                  of interest, starting with a performance under Vincent d’Indy 
                  in 1904. Subsequent editions and performances followed, including 
                  editions by Orff and Respighi and many more modern and scholarly 
                  versions seeking to get closer to what the composer intended. 
                  The first recording was in 1942, followed swiftly by versions 
                  under Helmut Koch in 1951 and August Wenzinger in 1955. Hindemith’s 
                  interest in the work was therefore part of a more general movement 
                  rather than something unique. These discs therefore present 
                  a snapshot of an approach as to how the opera was performed 
                  half a century ago. This might have been more interesting if 
                  space had been found for extracts from other recordings from 
                  this general period for the purpose of comparison – an opportunity 
                  missed. 
                  
                  Listening to any of the many more modern recordings of the work 
                  it would be easy to forget the century of investigation, trial 
                  and error which has led to the kind of results we now tend to 
                  take almost for granted. It is salutary to listen to this, or 
                  indeed to any of the early recordings, and realise just what 
                  a debt is owed to the work of previous scholars and performers. 
                  This is not always accepted by those most directly involved. 
                  I recall correspondence in the Musical Times many years 
                  ago between Hans Redlich and Denis Stevens about their respective 
                  editions of the Vespers. A third party wrote a brief 
                  letter suggesting that the former should acknowledge that scholarship 
                  moves onward, and the latter that his efforts relied in part 
                  on the work of earlier scholars. For his pains they joined forces 
                  and attacked him viciously instead of each other. Passions run 
                  high in the field of Monteverdi scholarship. 
                  
                  The performance on these discs is introduced by Hindemith in 
                  a short talk, but I regret that my German is inadequate to follow 
                  either that or the two lengthy articles given only in German 
                  in the booklet. I regret that I can therefore report only on 
                  what I hear on the discs. As you will have gathered, this is 
                  very different from more modern recordings. Although some period 
                  instruments are used, this is not universal, and the organ in 
                  particular has a very curious sound, more like a piano accordion 
                  or harmonium. Scoring for the dances is less pungent than we 
                  are used to now, and chords for wind instruments are occasionally 
                  introduced into passages of recitative. The singing of the soloists 
                  varies, some wholly at sea with Monteverdi’s harmonic phrasing 
                  and most using more vibrato than we are accustomed to 
                  today in this music. Ornamentation is virtually entirely absent 
                  with the single exception of Orfeo’s long plea to Charonte, 
                  Possente spirito. Here Sinimberghi makes a gallant and 
                  by no means wholly unsuccessful attempt at its difficulties. 
                  He may have a voice and manner more obviously suited to later 
                  Italian composers but his evident sincerity and ease with the 
                  language are real virtues. Possente spirito is, as it 
                  should be, a high point of the performance as a whole. Low points 
                  come from moments, sometimes quite long moments, of uncertain 
                  intonation from other singers, mainly female, and from the very 
                  poor chorus. The instrumentalists are better with much real 
                  rhythmic energy when called for. All in all though, despite 
                  occasional moments of real eloquence, too much of this performance 
                  sounds as though all of those concerned are still feeling their 
                  way in the idiom. 
                  
                  The three short items by Gabrieli which precede the opera are 
                  poorly performed, especially by the choir. As I have indicated, 
                  the booklet contains long articles in German and, somewhat oddly, 
                  a transcript of the Wikipedia article on the opera. I found 
                  listening to the discs an interesting rather than an entertaining 
                  experience, and I find it difficult to imagine when I might 
                  want to return to them. I listened to them dutifully but it 
                  is hard to greet their issue with more than a very muted enthusiasm. 
                  
                  
                  John Sheppard 
                See also review by Jonathan 
                  Woolf