‘Orfeo ed Euridice’ @ The Dallas Opera

Photos by Kyle Flubacker

—Wayne Lee Gay

The Dallas Opera continues its season this week with a musically glorious but conceptually questionable version of the operatic hit of the late eighteenth century, Christoph Willibald Gluck's 1762 Orfeo ed Euridice (Orpheus and Eurydice). 

German composer Gluck revolutionized the opera of his era with this musical retelling of the classic legend of the master musician Orfeo, who attempts to rescue his dead, beloved wife Euridice from the afterlife. In the ancient tale (most recently the origin story of the musical Hadestown), Orfeo fails to follow all the instructions properly, and the rescue fails. Late eighteenth-century opera audiences (mostly very wealthy aristocrats) preferred a happy ending, so Gluck's version closes with a generous gift from the god of love—renewed life for Euridice—and a happily-ever-after ending, tradition be damned. 

Enter, in twenty-first century Dallas, German-born stage director and designer Joachim Schamberger, bringing a fascinatingly off-the-wall concept of the Orfeo legend as a parable of dementia. 

Visual projections give a clever nod early on to the classical origins of the tale, after which Schamberger establishes Orfeo and Euridice as an affluent and loving couple in contemporary Dallas (think Highland Park), complete with graduation from SMU and marriage at an upscale Presbyterian church. The first sung moments occur as an aging Orfeo (British countertenor Hugh Cutting) mourns the decline of bedridden Euridice (Idaho-born soprano Madison Leonard), who in this staging is not dead, but rather burdened with dementia and accompanying behavioral issues. 

Moved by Orfeo's sorrow, god of love Amore (Venezuelan soprano Amber Norelai), done up comically as a pink Cupid complete with bow and arrows, grants Orfeo the power to retrieve Euridice from her peaceful dream-world. As in the classic myth, Orfeo, with his magical musical powers, calms the Furies who guard the not-unpleasant afterlife (or dementia world), then finds and attempts to bring Euridice home. When he fails, he contemplates suicide. In Gluck's version and Schamberger's, Amore takes pity and resurrects Euridice for a happy final ensemble. 

There is some rationale behind Schamberger's vision: the once largely misunderstood agony of dementia has become a first-hand experience for significant portions of our rapidly aging population—and a frequent second-hand experience for their families and friends.

And the god Amore as a cartoonish Valentine figure also works pretty well; humor is, after all, a necessary tool in dealing with dementia, and at this time of year, Cupid is ubiquitous in our culture.

But the resurrection of Euridice is simply a bridge too far from the serious reality of dementia. Resurrection doesn't happen in real-world dementia. Not even in Highland Park. 

The musical performance, however, is well worthy of attendance. Countertenor Cutting carries the bulk of the vocal work, and handles it all gloriously, with a burnished and beautifully assertive sound. Sopranos Amber Norelai and Madison Leonard likewise enliven their vocally challenging roles, and conductor Emmanuel Villaume proves his versatility in yet another style period, along with an impressive understanding of the union of this language and music. The chorus, trained by Paolo Bressan, is appropriately assertive within the classical-era musical structure. And questions of the ultimate success of the concept aside, director-designer Schamberger's sets and projections—including visions of shattered glass and failing brain cells—are endlessly fascinating. 

WHEN: February 7-15, 2025
(livestream available February 15)
WHERE: Winspear Opera House, Dallas
WEB: dallasopera.org