On August 2, 1774, Gluck presented Orphée et Euridice at the Paris Opéra. It was an expanded version, now called a tragédie opéra, of Orfeo ed Euridice, the azione teatrale first seen in Vienna 12 years before. It followed the success of Iphigénie en Aulide, Gluck’s first opera for Paris, in which the part of Achilles was taken by the haute-contre Joseph Legros, successor to the great Pierre de Jélyotte. Legros sang Orpheus, and went on to appear in Gluck’s subsequent French operas. The opera was revised in 1859 by Berlioz for the contralto Pauline Viardot. That version, in French, drew on both the Vienna and the Paris scores. A composite version is still the norm, certainly on recordings; but this recording is pure Paris, with only the odd repeat omitted; meaning that, as well as the additional dances in Act 2, there are some 20 minutes of ballet after the final chorus (though when the orchestra has a repeat of that chorus, in this production the singers join in).

The stage directors are Hofesh Shechter and John Fulljames, and the choreography is performed by Shechter’s own company. The orchestra is seated on a platform, initially above the stage, which is lowered to stage level and pit level as required. At the beginning of each act Orpheus is seen sitting in a pool of light. Sporting a rather natty blue three-piece suit with matching belted overcoat, he soon strips down to waistcoat and tieless shirt. During the ‘Pantomime’ incorporated into the opening chorus, an outline in wicker of the dead Eurydice is set alight. This is repeated at the end, while Orpheus wanders off looking miserable. Much the same happens – without the pyrotechnics – in the staging of the Vienna version from Český Krumlov (ArtHaus Musik, 9/14). How this can be squared with Gluck’s upbeat ending is anyone’s guess.

The ballet is of course a far cry from what the Parisian audiences would have seen in 1774; the male dancers are often bare-chested, and the Chaconne ends in a display of jiving. Juan Diego Flórez may be no haute-contre but he delivers a memorable Orpheus, despairing and passionate. Singing at today’s higher pitch, he has no trouble with the tessitura. The bravura air ‘L’espoir renaît dans mon âme’ makes an exciting end to Act 1: whether it was by Gluck or not, Legros must have been thrilled with it. The other two characters have much less to do. Fatma Said, in a golden suit, sings brightly as Cupid, while Christiane Karg, in a ruched, ankle-length off-the-shoulder number, is properly stroppy when upbraiding Orpheus.

The orchestra is La Scala’s own. When this production was premiered at Covent Garden in 2015 with Flórez, Amanda Forsythe and Lucy Crowe, John Eliot Gardiner conducted the Monteverdi Choir and the English Baroque Soloists; and it’s a pity that it was not filmed at the time. Heaven knows, Gardiner can over-shape a phrase, but Michele Mariotti can’t look at a cadence without introducing a massive rallentando. There’s the end of the ‘Pantomime’, and each stanza of ‘Objet de mon amour’, and the dance following ‘Cet asile aimable’ – not to mention the return to the tonic in the ‘Dance of the Blessed Spirits’ or the modulation to the dominant in ‘J’ai perdu mon Euridice’. But it’s good to have a complete staged version of this masterpiece, which is so much more than just a revision of Orfeo ed Euridice.