Orfeo ed Euridice, Theatre Royal, Glasgow

The original opera panto

It may not have been the staggeringly original "reform" opera portrayed in the history books, but Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice wasn't corny. Unfortunately, this production by Lucinda Childs for Scottish Opera made you think not of Ovid but of panto. The costumes (designer, Claire Sternberg) were white and grey, and, in avoiding the drapes of classical Greece, succeeded only in showing off every imperfection in the women's figures. The men's outfits just needed broad arrows to merge into a childish staging of Fidelio.

Worst of all were the dances; where the score demand poise and solemn concentration, people wandered about flat-footedly, and in the Dance of the Furies, they popped up from the ground like the Demon King and stuck their elbows out, spreading their fingers in a total evocation of corny malevolence. Childs was choreographer as well as director. Even the set didn't work; merely two shallow ramps, it creaked when walked on, and the lighting, by Christophe Forey, managed to evoke neither the brilliance of the Elysian Fields nor the gloom of Hades.

Admittedly, the company had suffered the worst nightmare of any producer of Orfeo: the singer of the title role, Cécile van de Sant, had caught a cold and had been replaced at the last minute. This is almost a one-character drama, and the young Alenka Ponjavic, just out of music college, could scarcely carry the whole thing on her shoulders at a few hours' notice. Her voice is a rich mezzo, warm in quality though not very spacious, but she sang out of tune and her coloratura was no more than a vague travesty. Her tall figure, drooping into a lugubrious S-bend, made you think of Ian Bostridge, but without his aristocratic self-possession.

The other two principals, a gleaming, persuasive Rachel Hynes as Euridice, and Gillian Keith, with her sweet little pipe, as Amor, were excellent. It was thoughtful to have the Furies charmed by an Orfeo accompanied, not by his own lyre, but by Amor playing a modern concert harp (the player dressed exactly like Keith and acceptable as her double).

Raymond Leppard had the orchestra sounding almost authentic, with vibrato-less violins and hectic horns, but his slow tempos had nothing to do with authenticity, and his observation of every repeat-mark made the performance even more cataleptic. Perhaps he meant to evoke classic serenity. Whatever, he made a dull production sound even duller. Here is an opera that cries out for a fresh view. Radical this was not.

Further performances to 14 Feb in Glasgow (0141-332 9000) & Edinburgh (0131-529 6000)

www.scottishopera.org.uk