Gluck’s Orfeo has appeared in many guises. But had you been at the court theatre in Vienna at the première in 1762 of this modestly-scaled azione teatrale, you would have heard something much more like what is offered here than what you might see in most of the world’s opera houses or, indeed, hear on the large majority of the two dozen or so recordings currently in the catalogue. Arnold Östman follows the original Italian text, with none of the extra items that Gluck wrote 12 years later for his Paris version which are often included. It is very short, a mere 67 minutes (the next shortest recording, I believe, is 83 minutes), but it is complete apart from the ballet sequence in the last act, the omission of which is regrettable as it unbalances the work and makes the happy ending excessively perfunctory – I don’t think its inclusion would have demanded a two-CD set.

This text has a directness and potentially an intensity that the more familiar composite versions lack. I say ‘potentially’ because that isn’t quite managed here. Its main strength lies in the orchestral realisation, where Gluck’s often quite unorthodox handling of the instruments comes over, with period instruments and a smallish band, clearly and colourfully. Östman is broadly successful in his handling of the dances: the Ballo that follows the opening chorus, for example, perfectly captures the desolation of Orpheus and the attendant shepherds and nymphs. But I am afraid that Ann-Christine Biel, although very able and accurate, doesn’t quite rise to the emotional challenges of Orpheus’s music. Her first solo, the triple strofe, is neatly done, but at this quickish tempo sounds disconcertingly joyous, and she doesn’t have the rhetorical resources to give force to the recitative interludes.

Nor does she speak in Act 2 with the degree of passion that might seem appropriate; the Furies are rather easily tamed. (But the orchestral textures at ‘Che puro ciel’, on period instruments, carefully balanced, possess the visionary quality Gluck surely intended.) ‘Che farò’ is done neatly enough: but it is meant to convey a depth of feeling sufficient to convince the gods to be merciful, and that is beyond Biel. Amor is sung with apt charm by Kerstin Avemo and Maya Boog makes a very capable Eurydice even if her voice and Biel’s are insufficiently contrasted.

Östman made excellent recordings of the Da Ponte-Mozart operas; I am sorry that this new issue, relying on a local Drottningholm cast, is not on that level. There are two admirable recordings of the Italian version done with period-instrument groups: I would recommend Gardiner’s for its all-round excellence and Bernius’s for Michael Chance’s deeply moving Orpheus.