Overture: Orfeo ed Euridice

Haydn’s last opera, Orfeo ed Euridice (or L’Anima del filosofo, to give it its official title) was never performed in his life time. Commissioned by Sir John Gallini for the newly built King’s Theatre, Haymarket, on the composer’s first visit to London in 1791, it fell victim to the theatre manager’s unfortunate failure to have the place licensed for opera - which cost Gallini a small fortune but which didn’t worry Haydn too much as he had taken the precaution of having his fee paid in advance and safely deposited in a bank in Vienna. Its first performance took place as many as 160 years later at the Maggio Musicale in Florence with Erich Kleiber conducting and Tygge Tyggeson, Maria Callas and Boris Christoff in the three principal roles.

Haydn did, however, get to hear know as the Overture to Orfeo ed Euridice, though not under that name, on his second visit to London in 1795. The impresario behind Haydn’s tours to England, Johann Peter Salomon had written an opera called Windsor Castle for Covent Garden but, it seems, had not had time to provide the overture. Whatever the reason, Haydn volunteered what we now know as the Overture to Orfeo ed Euridice to fill the gap. It might well have been written for that occasion: its modest proportions, its unambitious orchestration and its generally cheerful personality seem more appropriate to an entertainment like Windsor Castle than a serious opera on a tragic theme like Orfeo ed Euridice. On the other hand, it does allude to a theme in Orfeo ed Euridice and, although he referred to it in his catalogue as “Overture to an English Opera,” Haydn did file the manuscript for it together with that of his last opera.

At least the Largo introduction, with its dramatic C minor harmonies and its French-overture dotted rhythms, is serious. But as soon as the key changes to C major and the tempo changes to Presto and an oboe introduces the main theme - which is very similar to a tune in an aria for Orfeo in the second act of the opera - the atmosphere changes too. Launched in this way and pressed ahead by urgent tutti passages with syncopated rhythms, animated bass lines and busy contrapuntal activity, the Presto section leaves little time for reflection or, indeed, any other theme apart from a mere vestige of a second subject.

Gerald Larner©