by Marvin J. Ward

Boston, MA, 26 January 2009.  In 2 performances this past weekend, the Handel and Haydn Society presented, in concert format, an undeservedly neglected version of the Orpheus and Eurydice story: Haydn’s last opera (of 12), L’Anima del filosofo ossia Orfeo ed Euridice, composed in London in 1791 (18 years before his death in 1809, of which these performances are part of a bicentennial celebration).  It was never performed during his lifetime; indeed some scholars suggest that it may actually be incomplete (No one really knows what Haydn had in mind with that title).  The first performance was 160 years later on 9 June 1951 in Florence, Italy, with Maria Callas as Eurydice, but even with that star-power launch, and with some other major opera stars performing in it in the intervening 57 years, it has not been given frequently since.

Many composers have written operas using this legend, beginning with Jacopo Peri’s Eurydice, in 1600, the earliest surviving opera.  The most famous are probably, in chronological order, Monteverdi’s L’Orfeo from 1607, Gluck’s Orfeo ed Eurydice from 1762, also given, slightly revised, in French in Paris in 1774 as Orphée, for which performance the beloved “Dance of the Blessed Spirits” was composed, and Offenbach’s Orphée aux Enfers from 1858, revised in 1874, which contains the famous can-can (le chahut in French).  Haydn’s librettist was Carlo Francesco Badini, the poet of the King’s Theatre, where the opera should have premièred on 31 May.  The theatre was being rebuilt, having burned, and the manager was not granted the permit to stage the work.

Most composers took some liberties with the story, primarily concerning what happened after Orpheus looked back and lost Eurydice again, having retrieved her from Hades.  In Ovid and Virgil, he wanders, aimlessly, playing his lyre and avoiding women, until a band of Maenads (also called Bacchantes: women frenzied with wine) killed him and then decapitated and dismembered him, not activities very suitable for the stage, so some change is required.  Gluck had the Gods take pity on him, and bring her back again for a happy ending.  Haydn changed it to a poison-drink death administered by the Bacchantes.  Haydn also has Orpheus forsake and forswear his lyre upon Eurydice’s death from the viper bite at the end of Act 2.  The harp, which has some beautiful solo parts prior to this, here marvelously executed by Barbara Poeschl-Edrich, disappears from the orchestra at that point to underscore this oath.  The music becomes much more somber in the final 2 acts, containing more percussion and some moments reminiscent of the final earthquake movement of The Seven Last Words of Our Savior on the Cross.  The piece ends with a storm, and the lights were faded out over the stage to accompany it, creating a spell too soon broken by a lone audience member overly anxious to applaud the superb performance: I heard sighs all around me giving voice to my disappointment with this inappropriate impulsiveness.

This was the first performance of the work for the H&H, and also the first for its conductor, Artistic Advisor Sir Roger Norrington.  The 3 soloists: soprano Sarah Coburn, tenor Andrew Kennedy, and baritone Christopher Maltman, were making their H&H débuts.  Two of them did double duty, singing 2 roles: Coburn was Eurydice and Genio (the Sibyl), and Maltman, Creon (Orpheus’ father, who initially refused permission for the marriage but later relented, a genealogy and plotline not in Ovid) and Pluto.  Coburn was in fact reprising the role that she sang at Glimmerglass Opera in Cooperstown, NY, in the summer of 2007, which brought her to the attention of the broader opera-loving world.  Six members of the 24-member chorus had solo turns, 5 men (1 doing double duty), 3 serving as servants, 2 as followers of Aristaeus (the man to whom Creon had promised Eurydice, also not in Ovid), and 1 as a messenger, and 1 woman, singing the role of Eurydice when in Hades, a very effective device because of the sense of distance and depth that it added, coming as it did from the rear rather than the front of the stage, and providing a touch of dramatic action otherwise absent from this rendition.  None of this work by chorus members was the result of cost-saving initiatives; the score calls for it.

The work makes interesting and fairly extensive use of the chorus, giving it sections as a unit or divided between men and women, and having it sing frequently throughout.  The women are variously Cupids, Mourning Virgins, and Bacchantes.  To a certain extent, it is used like the chorus in a Greek tragedy.  It also has some of the loveliest melodies of the work, which is chock full of them, although none is as captivating as Gluck’s achingly beautiful “Que faró senza Eurydice?”.  Act 1 ends with a beautiful love duet, “Come il foco allo splendore.”  Curiously, the bravura aria that is the most brilliant and demanding is sung neither by Eurydice nor by Orpheus, but by Genio in Act 3, Scene 3: “Al tuo seno fortunate.”  Coburn’s rendering deservedly elicited some shouts, shrieks, and whistles from the audience.  There is a brief Intermezzo at the beginning of that scene, which takes place in the Elysian Fields, that serves a function somewhat similar to Gluck’s “Dance of the Blessed Spirits.”

Coburn quickly captured the hearts of the members of the audience, as Eurydice did that of Orpheus, with her bright colorful voice and her vocal agility.  Dare I write that her beauty helped as well?  According to the H&H Press Release, she is ranked by Playboy as 1 of the “Top 10 Sexiest Babes of Classical Music.”  Kennedy and Maltman also gave superb performances, conveying well the emotions and dramatic moments in their recitatives and arias by modulating their voices.  The H&H Orchestra and Chorus were in top form under Norrington’s precise leadership, making superb advocates for this musically gorgeous and engaging work.  One wonders why it is not more frequently given on operatic stages.  There are a few recordings on the market, including 1 made in 1967 featuring Dame Joan Sutherland and Nicolai Gedda in the principal roles, available on 2 different labels.  Another from 1997 features Cecilia Bartoli and Uwe Heilmann.