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Orpheus in Hades/Public in Paradisum Madrid
Teatro Real
06/13/2023 - & June 6 (Freiburg), 8, 9 (Barcelona), 11 (Oviedo), 2023
Christoph Willibald Gluck: Orfeo ed Euridice
Helena Rasker (Orfeo), Polina Pastirchak (Euridice), Giulia Semenzato (Amore)
RIAS Kammerchor Berlin, Freiburger Barockorchester, René Jacobs (conductor)
R. Jacobs (© Molina Visuals)
Few think of Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice as one of the most influential operas of all time, but it most certainly is. During the age of Enlightenment (from the late 17th to the early 19th Century), the authority of the Monarchy and the Church were questioned, but composers who were advocates of it also questioned the excesses of baroque opera, particularly its stolid characters, predictably superficial plots and above all its exuberant, florid vocal passages and certain liberties taken by the celebrated singers of that time.
Gluck thought it necessary to rein in the opera divas and divos (castrati). An advocate of more clarity in opera, he advocated for streamlining plots of operas; for the text to be set in a fashion more similar to normal speech and declamation; for the difference between recitatives and arias to be blurred; and he preferred that the performers should be as much actors as singers. Gluck’s opera reform was also his answer to the eternal question: “Prima la musica or le parole?” [what matters most: music or text?]. Gluck’s response was that both text and music were of equal importance and opera was the fusion of the two rather than a pretext for florid virtuosity.
Orfeo ed Euridice (1762) was Gluck’s first reform opera, in which he exemplified all his ambitions for change. These revisions were to influence not only his near contemporary Mozart, but also future musical giants such as Weber, Wagner and Berlioz. The latter, especially in his masterpiece Les Troyens (1863), was the most ardent disciple of Gluck and the unofficial heir to his ideas.
It is of particular interest to hear René Jacobs, a leading conductor of baroque and Mozart opera, conduct Orfeo ed Euridice, a work in which he sang Orfeo in one of the most outstanding recordings of the work over forty years earlier. That was in his remarkable previous career as a countertenor. Of special interest is his choosing a mezzo rather than a countertenor in the role of Orfeo. The polemic of what voice conveys best the emotion of Orfeo will never have an objective answer. Personally, I am averse to the tenor assignation–mostly in the French version, Orphée et Eurydice (1774)–and even more so to the baritone assignation (in a rarely performed and best forgotten German version). The Orfeo of all time is the great British contralto Kathleen Ferrier (1912‑1953), followed by other contraltos and mezzos such as Maureen Forrester and Lucia Valentini-Terrani.
The sexless voice of a contralto and some mezzos whose voice is more gender neutral is much more moving than most countertenors I have heard in this role. Dutch contralto Helena Rasker is a point in case. It is hard to be more moving than this great artist. Her approach to operatic singing is almost “opera as lieder” rather than vocal opera extravaganza. Endowed with immense interpretative abilities, Rasker is indeed an ideal Orfeo. Moreover, her Italian diction is exemplary. Certain words were enunciated in the fashion Gluck had in mind when he spoke of the fusion of music and text. Of particular force was Orfeo’s Act II reply to the Furies, “Men tiranne, ah! voi sareste.” The supplicant declaration “al mio pianto, al mio lamento, se provaste un sol momento cosa sia languir d’amor” was enunciated with such emotion and poise that only a singer well versed in lieder could achieve. How could the Furies not yield to such shattering pleas? Likewise, Rasker was able to convey the mysterious interiority of the ravishing ensuing aria “Che puro ciel!” The phrasing of “Se l’idol mio non trovo, sperar non posso” was heartbreaking.
In the secondary role of Euridice, Hungarian lyric soprano Polina Pastirchak was expressive and moving. Young Italian lyric soprano Giulia Semenzato was an outstanding Amore, with a timbre quite distinct from Euridice’s. Moreover, she showed a natural sense of theatricality in this semi-staged version. She was able to restore the mischievous side of this demi‑God, almost teasing Orfeo at moments. Nonetheless, she also showed the tender side of Amore when Orfeo was grieving at the beginning of the opera and when he lost Euridice a second time. Given her acting abilities, someone had the brilliant idea of having her snooze during the suave orchestral passage of the “Dance of the Blessed Spirits” at the opening of Act II. She is awakened by the oboist who has her hold his score during the ensuing enchanting aria by Orfeo “Che puro ciel!”
Of musical interest were the variations in the emphasis of certain words in the famous aria “Che farò senza Euridice?” The usual emphasis on “farò” and “andrò” was moved to “Euridice” giving a more tender feel to the aria, substituting the protagonist’s action to the object of love, Euridice. I am not aware where the emphasis lies in the original score (and there are multiple versions of this one), but I much prefer this one.
Orfeo ed Euridice is often given, as in this performance, in concert form. There is ample justification for such a choice as it’s more a parable than an operatic drama. Moreover, Ancient Greek tunics and sets might not be the most convenient. The present performance is touring Europe and concert form is the most appropriate format for such an endeavor. Together with Barcelona and Oviedo, Madrid is one of three Spanish cities lucky enough to have performances scheduled on this tour.
The luxury of having the forces of RIAS Kammerchor Berlin as the chorus enhanced this performance, as this versatile choir is outstanding in baroque, romantic, contemporary repertoires. Moreover, their Italian diction was outstanding for a non‑Italian ensemble. René Jacobs conducted the Freiburger Barockorchester with alacrity and with special attention to the needs of his singers, especially Orfeo. The rarely‑played ballet music was played in its entirety preceding the final jubilant chorus “Trionfi amore.” Some of this music was a revelation, while other passages, though less interesting, would have been intolerable in anyone else’s hands. Bravo René Jacobs! The Teatro Real public, a mix of opera lovers and early music fans, were elated and rightly generous with their applause.
Ossama el Naggar
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