Those inclined to take for granted Gluck's remarks concerning opera seria (''florid descriptions, unnatural paragons and sententious, cold morality'') could do a lot worse than listen to Handel's Orlando. Based at some remove on an episode from Ariosto's epic poem Orlando furioso, it's a work which in place of posturing heroes and unlikely dilemmas offers credible characters and situations, all drawn with that touching human sympathy and understanding that were such an important part of Handel's creative personality. First staged in London in 1733, it is one of the greatest operas the eighteenth century produced, yet it almost goes without saying that the very musical and dramatic qualities that place it beyond Gluckian criticism were at least partly responsible for the limited success it enjoyed in its own day. Audiences soaked in the blander conventions of Italian serious opera were perhaps tested just a little too much by Handel's ingenious manipulation of their expectations in this work, while its principal singer, the famous castrato Senesino, may well have been frustrated by the lack of opportunity for vocal display afforded by its title-role, that of a character who through unrequited love becomes oddly, even comically, deranged; significantly, Orlando was the last opera he sang in as a member of Handel's company.
Considering that the last (not very good) recording of the opera was made 20 years ago, this new one conducted by Christopher Hogwood comes not exactly before time. It's of a production that toured the USA in 1989 (and which was heard in London at that year's Proms), and the benefits are there to be heard in the assured contributions of its line-up of well-known baroque singers. The slightly exotic colouring and penetrating top notes of James Bowman's counter-tenor voice have always seemed best suited to operatic work, and though he shows weakness at the bottom of the range, his portrayal of Orlando is both impassioned and intelligent. More consistently impressive in vocal terms is Arleen Auger as the object of Orlando's love, Angelica; her singing has a more intense quality to it than that of the rest of the cast, so that at times she can sound a little out of place, but there is no denying the thrill of hearing her negotiate some of the virtuoso numbers Handel provides for her. Catherine Robbin is suitably solid in the less rewarding role of Angelica's lover Medoro (a part which was taken by a woman in Handel's time as well as ours), while David Thomas does his usual stern-voiced stuff as the magician Zoroastro, and Emma Kirkby is perfectly cast in the tragi-comic role of the shepherdess Dorinda.
It should be said, though, that despite the generally high quality of singing there's no reason why this recording should be the last word on Orlando. True, it's as unfailingly stylish an account as you're likely to get, but somehow it doesn't quite come alive with the sort of dramatic intensity or pace that conductors such as William Christie or John Eliot Gardiner are able to bring to baroque opera. The playing of the Academy of Ancient Music, too, while never less than adequate, is a little lacking in polish compared to that of many baroque bands these days. But for the time being, and in the absence of such strong opposition, this version will do very nicely indeed.'