Also available on Blu-ray

Any production stands or falls by the performance of the lead role of Orphée. Here it is the mezzo Marianne Crebassa, a rising star. She is superb. She immediately impresses by her dignified bearing and natural air of authority. She can also convey grief by being very still. Her voice has a lovely tone, with just enough vibrato to give it warmth but not a trace of a wobble, and she has all the technique you could wish for. Her performance of Amour, viens rendre à mon âme is as dazzling as you could want, but, more importantly, her renderings of Quel nouveau ciel and J’ai perdu mon Eurydice are expressive and moving.

Of the other two soloists, Hélène Guilmette as Eurydice carries off the only real soprano role in the work well, though one cannot help feeling that Gluck was not really interested in her. However, her importunings during the attempted return are finely done. Lea Desandre, the Amour, is a former ballet dancer and combines a striking appearance with an attractive voice. She is allowed to appear in the last scene but not to sing, which is a shame.

Raphaël Pichon conducts his own chorus and orchestra, Ensemble Pygmalion. The chorus is very good. The orchestra of period instruments is vigorous. I heard some sour notes from the wind in the first Act but not subsequently, and emphatically not in the Dance of the Blessed Spirits, where the solo flautist played splendidly and indeed had the spotlight on her for part of the piece. (There was no actual dance.) She deserves a credit. The trombones sounded a bit raucous, but that may be part of the period authenticity.

The staging opens with a most attractive pastoral backdrop taken from Corot. Eurydice, dressed in a white robe, is already onstage, motionless. It is then rather a shock when Orphée and the chorus come on in modern dress. I do wish directors would get over the idea that modern dress is bold and provocative, or timeless and exciting, or whatever they think it is. It has become one of the dreariest clichés in both operas and plays, particularly those with a mythical or legendary setting. However, much of the rest is admirable, with an imaginative use of reflections. In Amour’s first appearance, she is within a large wheel, which is rocked from side to side, then once rotated completely. The underworld is represented as a bare dark stage with a central pool of light in which the chorus lie on the floor. The Furies are a proper team of three dancers, with strange and sinister movements. The attempted return is presented very simply, and is all the more powerful for it.

No complaints about the recording or picture quality. I have noted that applause is included. The booklet has some good articles, a synopsis and an interview with the director and the producer. The DVD offers subtitles in five languages. The English one is adequate but minimal, with the occasional mistake (écumant is foaming at the mouth or slavering, not slathering, which is spreading thickly).

I can confidently say that anyone who chooses this version will find much to enjoy.

– MusicWeb International

This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD

Gluck’s influential Orphée et Eurydice tells the story of Orphée’s descent into the Underworld to retrieve his wife Eurydice. His singing has the power to overcome the guardian Furies, but the path of true love is shadowed by sorrow and tragedy. As a true ‘drama of the soul’ with intense psychological and emotive power, Orphée et Eurydice shook enlightenment Europe to its core. Berlioz, in his 1859 version prepared for the Théâtre Lyrique, exploited the score’s full potential through a synthesis of the versions Gluck prepared for Parma, Paris and Vienna. Aurélien Bory’s Paris production was described as ‘just breathtaking’ by OperaJournal.

In this album two Swiss musicians - the cellist Andreas Graf and pianist Evelyne Grandy - transform what is essentially a song recital into a programme of lyrical miniatures for cello and piano. They thread their own arrangements of melodies by five fellow Swiss composers through some unfamiliar versions of well-known tunes, casting some long-standing favourites in new light and setting them alongside new delicacies.

Choreography and stage direction by Pina Bausch.

Dancers: Yann Bridard (Orpheus), Marie-Agnes Gillot (Eurydike), Miteki Kudo (Amor), Ballet de l'Opera national de Paris.

Duration: 104 minutes
Image: 16:9 NTSC
Sound: PCM Stereo, Dolby digital 5.1
Subtitles: French, German, English, Spanish, Italian
Region: All

This is in a class by itself: it is the late choreographer Pina Bausch's vision of Gluck's Orfeo, originally produced in Germany in 1975. This performance took place at Paris' Palais Garnier in February, 2008. Bausch presents two sets of protagonists--for each solo singing part there is a solo dancer--with the dancing, of course, taking physical precedence, but with the singers thoroughly engaged as well. You might think this awkward on stage but it is not; like any great choreographer, Bausch knows her space, and furthermore has choreographed minimal movements for the singers to emotionally mirror the dancers'. Just so you know, Bausch eschews Gluck's happy ending: both main characters remain dead at this performance's close.

I could describe the entire performance--so rich, so fluid, so moving--but the opening scene will suffice. As the dancing Orfeo, the magnificent, muscled Yann Bridard enters on the right, dressed only in flesh-colored briefs, and stands perfectly still while mezzo Maria Riccarda Wesseling, the singing Orfeo, cries out Eurydice's name (forgive me for not using the German spelling despite the fact that the opera is sung in German); a dead tree is the only prop.

Stage left is Eurydice herself, silent (the dancer Marie-Agnes Gillot), sitting high above the stage floor in her white, shroud-like wedding dress which reaches to the floor, a bouquet of blood-red roses cradled in her arms. She looks down at the grief around her; black-clad women and men writhe with anguish, their hands imploring and twisting. Orfeo lies face down near the tree and as the mourners leave slowly, he begins a tortured solo, clearly begging the gods' assistance. Bausch's choreography throughout is filled with swaying and upper-body movement; the feet never fidget. After a brief while the singing and dancing seem inevitably intertwined, as if the opera were always performed this way. Much of it gives the impression of a dream.

Hell is watched over by three men in leather aprons; they return after Eurydice dies a second time to take Orfeo. A remarkable moment occurs at the opera's peak moment: Eurydice, now in bright red, has been dancing madly, trying to get Orfeo to look back at her. He does and she dies in his arms as the singing Eurydice falls to the ground. Dancing Orfeo picks her up and places her atop the dancing Eurydice, and singing Orfeo kneels and sings the opera's most famous aria, "Che faro senza Eurydice". The effect is ravishing.

The costumes, sets, and lighting by Rolf Borzik, as suggested above, are evocative yet unfussy. The Balthasar-Neumann Ensemble & Choir play and sing handsomely throughout, with the chorus placed in the pit behind the musicians. Thomas Hengelbrock leads sensitively, whipping up a storm for the Furies and serving the needs of both singers and dancers. Mezzo Wesseling's Orfeo is strongly and movingly sung; hers may not be the greatest voice or interpretation, but she fits this production. However, Bridard's dancing of the part is unmatchable--he's on stage throughout and he seems thoroughly transfixed, expressing every emotion wordlessly and with grace and power. Julia Kleiter's Eurydice is lovely, a perfect match for the glorious Marie-Agnes Gillot. And Sunhae Im's shining Amore matches Miteko Kudo's dancing of the part.

As mentioned, the opera is sung in German, which I guess we will simply have to forgive. Subtitles are in all major European languages; the High Definition picture is superb and the sound (PCM Stereo or Dolby Digital 5.1) matches it. There is some strong DVD competition, but this really is one of a kind.

--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

Also available on Blu-ray

The Paris Opera Ballet, though historically and famously a classical ensemble, proved over the years to be perfectly at ease with the demands and the subtilities of the contemporary repertoire. A tribute to its dazzling technique and unique style, this collector box-set features three milestones in the recent history of the French company : Pina Bausch’s Orpheus und Eurydike, a "Tribute to Jerome Robbins," ten years after his passing, and Anne Teresa de Keersmaker’s Rain. All these programs were filmed at the Palais Garnier, a world-reknowned temple of classical ballet : a way to insure the continuity between the masterpieces of yesterday, and those of today.

These discs are hybrid Super Audio CDs playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

The radio recordings between 1939 and 1945 with the Berlin Philharmonic and Wilhelm Furtwängler are among classical music’s most compelling sound documents. Created at the peak of the collaboration between orchestra and conductor, Furtwängler’s artist personality is conveyed more vividly than anywhere else. What can be heard is music in which inspiration and the expressive will know no bounds and in which, not least, the existential experience of the Second World War reverberates. For the first time, the Berlin Philharmonic are releasing a complete edition of these recordings.

Wilhelm Furtwängler is accorded almost mythical status to this day. Biographically and artistically rooted in the 19th century, he embodies a bridge to the late-Romantic period and the founding years of the Berlin Philharmonic, whose chief conductor he was from 1922.

Furtwängler’s auratic charisma stems from an intriguing basic interpretive concept which avoided authoritarian gestures and deliberately aimed at the blurring of tonal contours. The result was a warm, mixed sound, in which developments and intensifications never appear calculated, but seem to grow organically.

This edition not only brings together all surviving radio recordings of the period, but also draws on the best available material – in particular, original tapes, which were taken to the Soviet Union after the war and only returned to Germany from the early 1990s onwards. Especially for this edition, the recordings have been carefully restored, digitally sampled using state-of-the-art technology, and remastered in 24-bit resolution. A total of 21 concerts are presented here, in whole or in part. The edition’s features include numerous historical photos, articles on the history behind the recordings, plus an extensive essay by the American musicologist Richard Taruskin on Furtwängler’s art – all of which results in a release which provides an opportunity to discover and relive this great chapter in the history of the Berliner Philharmoniker in all its facets as never before.

-----

REVIEW:

Do you want this box? Yes, you do. Is it worth it? Again, yes, almost certainly, it is. For one thing, these are the recordings that have come, more than any other, to define this conductor’s identity, and his legacy. The audio restoration does wonders for the piano concertos in particular. These are the concerts that, so they said later, made life worth living for many Berliners. They matter.

– Gramophone

Note: This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players, and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Choreography and stage direction by Pina Bausch.

Dancers: Yann Bridard (Orpheus), Marie-Agnes Gillot (Eurydike), Miteki Kudo (Amor), Ballet de l'Opera national de Paris.

Duration: 104 minutes
Image: 16:9 HD
Sound: PCM Stereo, DTS HD Master Audio 5.1
Subtitles: French, German, English, Spanish, Italian
Region: All

Christoph Willibald Gluck is one of the great reformers of opera, departing from the tried and tested genres of opera seria in the 18th century: Metastasio's drama per musica and Rameau's tragédie lyrique. Gluck sought to restore dramatic truth to musical theatre, dispensing with long, virtuosic arias simply written to play to performers' vanity, and providing a greater musical and dramatic coherence to his operas. His focus on clarity, simplicity and the return to nature is perfectly exemplified in his great work, Orfeo ed Euridice, the first of his 'reform' operas. The work owes much to the style of French opera, with its accompanied recitative and simple vocal lines.

This historic recording from 1966 features a young Grace Bumbry, who was recognised at the Kennedy Centre Honours in 2009 as a defining figure in American arts and culture. Also featuring internationally renowned conductor Václav Neumann, the recording is an acclaimed interpretation of one of Gluck's best-loved works.

Other information:
- Includes plot synopsis and liner notes on the composer and work.
- Libretto available on www.brilliantclassics.com.

Roberto Alagna (tenor), Serena Gamberoni (soprano) & Marc Barrard (baritone)
Teatro Comunale di Bologna Orchestra, Giampaolo Bisanti
Libretto Pierre-Louis Moline
Subtitles: French, English, German, Spanish, Italian
Length: 104 minutes - Bonus: Backstage & Interviews
Colour 16/9 - PCM STEREO, Dolby Digital 5.1, DTS 5.1

Theatrical and musical adaptation in one prologue and three acts by David Alagna
Filmed in High Definition at the Bologna Opera, January 2008
THE PERFORMANCE: Roberto Alagna as Orpheus in his brother David's new version of Gluck’s masterpiece. A major event recorded in Bologna.

Opting for the French-language version of Orpheus, David Alagna was faced with the task of achieving an appropriately subtle adaptation. In a plot transposed to the present day, Eurydice dies in a car accident on the day of her wedding and Orpheus's quest for his beloved is a dream beginning and ending at the cemetery. No happy ending in this interpretation, but a new approach to characterisation:Amore, sung by a baritone, becomes a funeral parlour employee and Orpheus' guide. Orpheus, of course, loses his loved one forever by turning to look back. World famous tenor Roberto Alagna throws himself body and soul into this production. His incredible vitality, flawless timbre and diction make him a great Orpheus. His partner, young Italian soprano Serena Gamberoni, is simply stunning as Eurydice, while French baritone Marc Barrard is suitably terrifying as the guide to the Underworld. The orchestra is conducted by Giampaolo Bisanti, who masterfully brings out all Gluck's poetry, romantic melancholy and depth.
A co-production with the Montpellier Opera.

This recording project was created to celebrate the tenth anniversary of concerts by the John Hackett and Marco Lo Muscio Duo. As in their concerts, the pieces suggest a musical journey between ancient and modern music alternating between duo and solo compositions. The repertoire starts with music from the baroque era up to the present day with the duo's original compositions. Their musical journey includes music of contemporary classical composers and ventures into the world of progressive music. The album includes three exceptional guests who have made a difference in the history of modern music: John's brother. Steve Hackett, the Genesis guitarist; David Jackson, the Van Der Graaf Generator saxophonist; David Cross, the King Crimson electric violinist.

GLUCK Iphigénie en Aulide.1 Iphigénie en Tauride2 & • Marc Minkowski, cond; 1Véronique Gens (Iphigénie); 2Mireille Delunsch (Iphigénie); Salomé Haller (Diana); Nicolas Testé (Agamemnon); Anne Sofie von Otter (Clytemnestre); Frédéric Antoun (Achille); Martijn Cornet (Patrocle); Laurent Alvaro (Arcas/Thoas); Jean-François Lapointe (Oreste/Calchas); Yann Beuron (Pylade); Netherlands Op Ch; Les Musiciens du Louvre Grenoble • OPUS ARTE 1099 (2 DVDs: 229:00) Live: Amsterdam 9/7/2011

& The making of “Iphigénie en Aulide”; “Iphigénie en Tauride” (38: 00)

This two-DVD set documents an unusual evening in the theater, with both of Gluck’s Iphigénie operas being given on one night as a double bill. The risk of mounting such a project is great, not least because these operas are very draining on both cast and audience. The fact that Marc Minkowski was able to pull this off was due in no small measure to the intelligent casting, which duplicated only two singers in both operas: Salomé Haller as Diana and Laurent Alvaro, who sings the small role of Arcas in the first opera and Thoas in the second.

For those unfamiliar with these Gluck operas, they represent somewhat different styles despite their similar subject matter and the fact that they were only written five years apart. Gluck’s growth as a creative artist in those five years was phenomenal, almost as stunning as Igor Stravinsky’s growth between the first and last acts of his opera The Nightingale. In Iphigénie en Aulide, although he already has a firm grasp of the new musico-dramatic structures he had created, he was still operating in an essentially lyric vein. There are strophic arias and all of the recitatives are orchestrally accompanied, which gives the music a remarkable sense of unity that was very rare in those days, but by 1779, when he wrote Iphigénie en Tauride, his sureness of handling drama through music had grown to its full maturity. The later opera, even from its opening notes, has a much greater thrust and impetuosity in both the orchestral and vocal writing than was present in the earlier opera. This, then, presents director, cast, and conductor with another challenge, which is how to reconcile the differing styles of these operas in one night’s performance.

Pierre Audi’s direction is singularly arresting and brilliant despite sparse sets and updated, somewhat ridiculous costumes. We see Iphigénie and Achille singing to each other in trench coats; when Iphigénie appears later in the first opera, she is wearing a bomb belt on what looks like a prom dress and a greasepaint X on her forehead to indicate that she has been marked for death. Calchas, the High Priest, looks nerdy in a blue suit with shirt open at the collar and horn-rimmed glasses—and, of course, we get our ubiquitous mostly-naked guy in tight slacks (who turns out to be Arcas). In act II, Agamemnon appears in a carnival cruise ship captain’s outfit, complete with dorky hat and a little winged emblem on it (and sunglasses…don’t forget the sunglasses, even though the stage is nearly as dark as pitch). In short, the costumes are rather ridiculous. The set, such as it is, consists of two high but narrow staircases on either side of the very small stage. Yet to Audi’s credit, he directs around this nonsense to create a dramatic presentation that is both interesting and appropriate to an updating of Greek theater. One can almost envision these singing actors performing their roles in more conventional costumes and sets, and their portrayals are dramatically apropos as well as fascinating to watch.

As for the singers in the first opera, pride of place goes to Nicolas Testé as Agamemnon. He possesses a large, well-focused voice that can even negotiate a trill, and his acting is superb. Nearly as fine are Véronique Gens as Iphigénie and Frédéric Antoun as Achille. Both have smallish voices of the sort that Gluck undoubtedly wrote for, yet they are pointed and carry well and their duets are a joy to the ear. Less impressive is Jean-François Lapointe as Calchas, whose voice has a flutter and an insufficient low range for the role. Anne Sofie von Otter, quite frankly, has little or nothing left of what was once a lovely if small voice. Twenty-plus years of singing, including several roles too large for her, have left the voice wobbly and hollow-sounding. She lacks volume even in so small a theater as this one that De Nederlandse Opera performs in. Her acting as always is spot-on, but I’m not listening to her just for acting. I want some voice, too.

Yet through it all, holding everything together, is the golden thread of Minkowski’s conducting, so that in the end one feels justified in going through this experience for his sure-handed leadership. One of the virtues of hearing a conductor this gifted is his way of knitting everything together so that chorus-recit-aria-vocal ensemble all flows seamlessly and naturally, with appropriate dramatic peaks when called for. Besides, it’s such a rare treat to actually see a production of any Gluck opera nowadays that I can almost overlook von Otter’s vocal faults and the silly costumes. Even in the earlier Iphigénie opera, one can clearly hear Gluck’s musical innovations and—more importantly for us today, with 20/20 hindsight—how much these innovations impacted the music of Cherubini, Spontini, Berlioz, and eventually Wagner. This is especially evident in those orchestrally accompanied recitatives: With their brief, almost blunt melodic thrusts, they stab into the listener’s ears in such a way that they convey the impetuosity of the characters. How ironic, then, that the “bel canto boys,” Rossini-Bellini-Donizetti, turn recitatives back into semi-parlando mush in the early decades of the 19th century. Listen—for just one small example-to the way Agamemnon sings of his daughter, whom he loves, and the tender accents that Gluck imparts to the orchestra behind him, using soft winds; then, immediately after, as he thinks of the sacrifice he is about to make, the tempo doubles and short, stabbing strings cut into his words. This is writing of pure genius. There is no other way to describe it.

The one demerit one can make against Gluck (and, specifically, his librettist) is that they whitewashed the story in order to provide a happy ending. In reality, Agamemnon had no guilt pangs or second thoughts about sacrificing his daughter, and in fact Iphigénie was killed to appease Diana; but by changing the ending of the story, Gluck was not only able to send his audiences home whistling a happy tune but also to manufacture out of thin air the “legend” that Diana took Iphigénie to her home island of Tauride, where the unfortunate girl spent much of her time doing what her father wanted to do to her: killing—oops, sacrificing—strangers who landed there to the goddess. Fabricated the story may be, but Gluck turned it into one of the most riveting operas ever written.

After a rough beginning, in which her voice is unsteady and very nasal, Mireille Delunsch brings it into clear focus and gives a good account of Iphigénie. Mind you, her performance here will not efface memories of Carol Vaness or Susan Graham, but it’s very fine on its own merits. As in the first opera, Minkowski’s conducting is just spectacular—he really “drives the storm” that opens this opera with intense fury—and again he manages to knit together the various scenes into a cohesive whole. Here, too, the staging makes even more sense that it did in the first opera, and except for Thoas (Laurent Alvaro) wearing a modern-day military uniform (what the heck is it with Regietheater directors and military uniforms? If they want to wear one so badly, just put it on yourself and leave the characters in their traditional garb!) most of the costumes here make much more sense. Sadly, Alvaro’s voice is consistently unsteady despite a bright timbre and his high notes covered and nasal. In short, he’s a poor choice for a role that requires long stretches of singing that are powerful and call for dramatic focus. The two priestesses, Simone Riksman and Rosanne van Sandwijk, are splendid, but the smaller male roles are sung rather pitifully.

Happily, our Oreste (Lapointe) and Pylade (Yann Beuron) are quite fine, which is important because from the point of their entrance onward they get the lion’s share of the singing. The staging of Iphigénie’s aria in which she grieves for her dead family is very well sung and staged, but I question the need to have Thoas come sneering into the picture to kiss her at the end.

Suffice it to say that Minkowski uses “original instruments” (or facsimiles thereof) as well as lower pitch (whether the A=409 supposedly used by French court tuner Pascal Taskin in 1783, the A=407.9 used a few years earlier, or Mozart’s A=421 I have no idea…these people really get hung up over this stuff), which makes the music sound at least a half-tone lower than you’re used to it from any A=440 performance, but to me this is all a moot point. It’s the performance that matters, the feeling and intensity of the playing and singing, not which tuning fork was used.

My lone complaint on packaging is that the booklet does not break down the operas by scenes, thus if you’re skipping ahead to catch a specific aria or scene you’ll have to guess. I’m not sure why they didn’t do this; I’ve seen it in almost every other opera DVD I’ve ever reviewed.

Having now given detailed descriptions of the performances, we reach the point where one rightly expects an endorsement or a rejection. I find myself divided on this issue, however. Audi’s direction, the conducting of Minkowski, and the singing of some, but not all, of the principals are certainly first-rate, but then we are faced with those cluttered staircases and inappropriate costumes (not to mention the substandard singing of Alvaro as Thoas). On the other hand, knowing how much the world (and particularly Europe) is in the thrall, I might even say the iron grip, of Eurotrash, could you really expect to someday see better productions with equally good direction, singing and conducting? The only other Iphigénie en Tauride on DVD is the one originally issued by Kultur in 2006 but now on Arthaus Musik 100377, which features the rather strained singing of Juliette Galstian as Iphigénie and yet another idiotic production, with people in giant masks following or mimicking the principals. Overall, I tolerated the Iphigénie en Tauride better because of the finer costumes and Delunsch’s generally well-focused singing, but you may prefer great audio recordings of these two operas. The best, indeed the only great, recording of the first work is the German-language performance from 1962 with Inge Borkh (Klytemnestra), Christa Ludwig (Iphigénie), James King (Achilles), and Walter Berry (Agamemnon), conducted by Karl Böhm, on Orfeo 428962, while the now-classic Muti recording of the second opera with Carol Vaness, Gösta Winbergh, and Thomas Allen (Sony Classical) is still the benchmark.

FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

Also available on standard DVD

Note: This Blu-ray Disc is playable only on Blu-ray Disc players, and not compatible with standard DVD players. Christoph Willibald Gluck
IPHIGÉNIE EN AULIDE / IPHIGÉNIE EN TAURIDE
(Blu-ray Disc Version)

Iphigénie en Aulide

Iphigénie – Véronique Gens
Diane – Salomé Haller
Agamemnon – Nicolas Testé
Clytemnestre – Anne Sofie von Otter

Iphigénie en Tauride

Iphigénie – Mireille Delunsch
Thoas – Laurent Alvaro
Oreste – Jean-François Lapointe
Pylade – Yann Beuron
Diane – Salomé Haller

Netherlands Opera Chorus
Les Musiciens du Louvre Grenoble
Marc Minkowski, conductor

Pierre Audi, stage director

Recorded live at De Nederlandse Opera, September 2011

Bonus
- Cast gallery
- Behind-the-scenes documentaries

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM Stereo 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Dutch, Korean
Running time: 229 mins (operas) + 39 mins (bonus)
No. of Discs: 1

R E V I E W:
Of Gluck’s two operas devoted to the character of Iphigénie, it is the latter one that has the overwhelming lion’s share of performances and recordings. I have long found that regrettable; while there is no question for me that Iphigénie en Tauride is Gluck’s greatest operatic masterwork, Iphigénie en Aulide is a marvelous work in its own right that deserves far better than benign neglect. I have sometimes wondered if, somewhat paradoxically, Aulide is slighted because its dramaturgy is somewhat more conventional than that of Gluck’s other major “reform” operas, with its frustrated young lovers, parents of divided sympathies, and so forth. However, this also allows Gluck to employ a more varied musical palette, as he has four major roles in different voice ranges (plus a crucial fifth supporting role) instead of only two or three.

It is therefore a very good thing indeed to have these two operas, whose plots have a fine formal dramatic continuity, brought together in a single set, even if the results are rather mixed. To deliver the bad news first, the production—as one necessarily expects from the Netherlands Opera—is yet another example of the blight of Regietheater. That said, it is thankfully one that is simply jejune rather than offensive. The set consists of two sets of metal bleachers facing one another, on which the characters clamber up and down, or else stand in between them; the majority of personnel are clad in rumpled trenchcoats, generic military uniforms, or leisure suits. (I was first exposed to the bleachers-and-trenchcoats conceit almost 25 years ago at the Oper Unter den Linden in what was then East Berlin, though I suspect that the straitened finances of a collapsing communist economy, rather than any great desire to promote avant-garde aesthetics, were responsible for its use in numerous productions there.) It all looks done on the cheap, though it probably cost an absurd amount of money. There are a few additional silly twists to this drab spectacle as well. Once Iphigénie (in Aulide) is named to be a sacrificial victim to the gods, she appears wearing a suicide bomb belt with an X painted on her forehead, while the minor character of Arcas is the obligatory half-naked hunk in skin-tight pants.

Fortunately, the stage direction largely ignores the costumes and for once has the characters interact in entirely appropriate ways—no orgies, or oral sex, or groping, or armed figures murdering people en masse, etc., etc. The singers seize the opportunity and, particularly in Aulide, give intense, even riveting performances that make one forget the dreary sets and garments and focus instead upon the characters and their respective plights. In Tauride, they are for some reason given much less with which to work, and consequently its dramatic voltage is significantly lower.

There is a very similar split in the musical values, with those for Aulide being very high, and for Tauride somewhat lower. Conductor Marc Minkowski has dedicated himself to promoting the operas of Gluck, and he leads both performances with searing intensity and passion. Compared to Minkowski, John Eliot Gardiner in his 1990 studio recording of Aulide for Erato—until now the only available recording of Gluck’s original score, as opposed to Wagner’s adaptation of it—is correct but somewhat staid. Véronique Gens is a superb Iphigénie, more characterful and potent than Lynne Dawson is for Gardiner, capturing every one of her character’s tormented twists and turns between hope, joy, resignation, and despair. Frédéric Antouin is her worthy partner as Achille, offering impassioned singing in the gleaming tones of a full-bodied lyric tenor. He too is superior to John Aler, his able counterpart under Gardiner. As Clytemnestre, Anne Sophie von Otter reprises her previous assumption of the role for Gardiner. If her voice is not quite as fresh as it was over 20 years before, it remains a remarkably fine instrument; she shows virtually none of the unsteadiness in her top notes that slightly marred her otherwise excellent recording of Swedish songs I reviewed in 36:3, and she has if anything deepened her conception of her role. Nicolas Teste is likewise an excellent Agamemnon, who makes his almost schizophrenic character highly sympathetic and holds his own in comparison with José van Dam under Gardiner. Christian Helmer is an effective Calchas, if not ideally steady vocally and inferior to Gilles Cachemaille under Gardiner. In the comprimario roles, Laurent Alvaro pushes his voice too hard as Thoas, but Martijn Cornet is a decent Patrocle. Salomé Haller is a competent but not arresting Diane in both operas.

There is only one reason I do not give this Iphigénie en Aulide an unqualified endorsement over Gardiner’s CD set as the version of choice; whereas both conductors cut the ballet music that Gluck recycled for his Don Juan, Minkowski also makes further cuts in two choral sections that remove an additional 15 minutes or so of music. Perhaps he believed that to be a painful necessity due to the presentation of both operas in a single evening, but it is greatly to be regretted.

By contrast, Iphigénie en Tauride is presented intact. Here my standard of comparison is the other performance of this opera on DVD, the 2000 performance from Zurich under William Christie. I am in near total agreement with James Camner’s review of it in 30:3, being only even more enthusiastic about Christie’s conducting and less so about Anton Scharinger’s singing as Thoas. While the giant bobble-head costumes used in that Regietheater production are indeed ludicrous, I will grudgingly concede that the pseudo-Freudian conceit behind them has more to offer both visually and conceptually than the drab, sterile setting saddled upon Minkowski, and hence makes for relatively more compelling drama. Also, while three of the four principal singers here are quite solid (those being Mireille Delunsch, Yann Beuron, and Jean-François Lapointe), they all are markedly inferior to Juliette Galstien, Deon van der Walt, and Rodney Gilfrey, their counterparts under Christie, with Galstien and Gilfrey in particular being outstanding in every way, and Alvaro’s wobbly Thoas is a marked liability for Minkowski.

There is a supplemental feature, lasting 38 minutes, on the creation of the two opera productions. Since they come together as a pair, my counsel is to get this for the superb Aulide despite the cuts, and tolerate or ignore the Tauride.

FANFARE: James A. Altena