Opera Company's "Orphée et Eurydice' (3rd review)

When Gluck's opera about Orpheus and Eurydice is presented, the first question often is not "How did it sound?" but "What version was used?"

So many permutations are extant that your eyes could glaze over. They were created and edited over a huge time span: between 1762 and 1889. Some are in Italian, some in French. The main character is written for a castrato, a baritone, a high tenor and a mezzo. The differences are so pronounced that it's almost like comparing Puccini's La Bohème to the opera of the same name by Leoncavallo.

Interest in this topic is increased by the Met's production of the early one-act Italian version last season, which was widely seen in cinemas.

Director Robert B. Driver and conductor Corrado Rovaris chose the French Orphée et Eurydice, composed by Gluck and edited by Hector Berlioz into four short acts, played without an intermission. Apparently they picked this version for two reasons:

First, the whole opera is relatively short (about 90 minutes). Second, the instrumentation is attractive and doesn't require specialized skills, because Gluck's period instruments (like cornett and chalumeaux) were replaced by more common ones, such as oboes and clarinets. Then too, the audience does not need specialized listening skills.

In the end, it's as unprofitable to ask, "Why this version?" as it is to wonder why some of your friends were attracted to their spouses. It's a matter of individual taste.

The Met's distractions

Because comparisons with the Met production are inevitable, I must tell you that this staging is dramatically different. Where James Levine and Isaac Mizrahi had chorus members made up to look like specific historical figures— distracting attention from the principal characters— Driver strives for a simple appearance. Where the Met offered flashy dancing choreographed by the idiosyncratic Mark Morris, this Philadelphia production provides dancing that arises from normal body movements, and the dancers and the singers intermingle.

The singing of the main role is starkly different too. The Met had Stephanie Blythe's powerful voice and proclamatory delivery, while this new production stars the Romanian Ruxandra Donose, whose mezzo-soprano voice is lighter and more lyrical. In many ways, the Philadelphia production is more endearing.

Choreographer Amanda Miller intermixed her small group of dancers with the chorus, and the singers swayed their bodies in such a way that we seemed to experience large assemblages who both sang and danced. Did the dancers actually move their lips? Or was this an illusion? Either way, this was a salutary result born from budgetary restraints.

Punk rocker with attitude

Other excellent elements were the sets and the lighting design by Phillipe Amand. The simplicity of design and costumes abetted the audience's connection with Orphée and our empathy with him. Just as we settled into this identification with Orphée's predicament, Amor, the god of love, burst onto the scene to tell Orphée that he could bring Eurydice back from the dead if he observed certain rules. Driver chose to stress the timelessness of the story here by making Amor look like a 21st-Century punk rocker, with flaming orange spiked hair.

This gimmick certainly grabbed everyone's attention and gave the opera a shot of adrenaline, but it was so different from everything else that we saw, both before and after Amor's appearance, that its effect seemed disconnected. When Amor returned near the end of the opera, he/she appeared at the rear of the auditorium, unseen by most of the audience.

Elizabeth Reiter enacted this role with swagger and attitude, and she sang superbly. Maureen McKay was beautiful in voice and appearance as Eurydice.

Lack of intensity

And that brings us back to a consideration of Donose as Orphée. The softness and delicacy of her singing helped us identify with her plight, but only sporadically did she project intensity and determination. She communicated best in the scenes where she came downstage, close to the audience.

Donose's finest moments came in her final aria, usually known as "Che faro senza Euridyce." A simple melody is sung three times while, between them, Orphée experiences spasms of grief. Here she was excellent. Conversely, Donose's voice seemed muffled when she was upstage.

The small Perelman stage seems to have a problem with its sound projection. Something should be done to remedy it.♦


To read another review by AJ Sabatini, click here.
To read another review by Robert Zaller, click here.