Orpheus and Eurydice is one of the defining classical Greek myths – its conclusion of frustrated redemption seems to distil the tragedy into an emotive gesture, rediscovered by different eras and genres. The Edinburgh International Festival offers a staging of Gluck’s 1762 opera, with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, Scottish Opera and Australia’s Circa combining under the direction of Circa’s Artistic Director and CEO Yaron Lifschitz to offer a circus informed spectacle. Wright&Grainger’s contemporary version, meanwhile, strips the storytelling back to its origins in bardic recitation, featuring a speaker and a musician.
“It is a formative myth for me,” says Lifschitz. “I have worked with it in many forms. It is the story of a double loss, and a story of enduring hope and the transformative power of love. And it is prosaic: it’s about people doing things for someone they love. I am also a great lover of Gluck as a classical composer.”
If Lifschitz’ inspiration is rooted in a particular medium and the story’s themes, Alexander Flanagan-Wright laughs when asked about his company’s inspiration. “It’s a silly story really! In 2016, Phil [Grainger] and I had two weeks off and I just booked four or five dates and I asked Phil: do you want to do a version of Orpheus or The Odyssey? He said: ‘never heard of them.’ And I said: ‘let’s do Orpheus, it’s got a singer in it.’ And that was it.”
The flexibility of the myth is evident in the contrast between the two versions: it can carry its depth of meaning whether given an orchestral and circus production or simply told by two men on stage and, for the latter, Orpheus becoming a lonely man singing in a pub.
Wright&Grainger’s updating brings home the timelessness of the Orpheus myth, but also fits their aesthetic. “We have never done anything traditionally theatrical. We’ve played music with each other since we were 14. I made immersive theatre and Phil ran a company that made work for families. Because we grew up in a rural landscape, it has always been much easier to do a show in a local pub. So, we make work that sits where people are gathering,” Flanagan-Wright continues. “It’s me with a book and Phil with a guitar: we deliberately made it so it could happen anywhere.”
Yet for all its immediacy, their Orpheus had endured: “We wrote it in two days and meant to do four or five shows. But something worked and we have done about 600.”
For Lifschitz, Gluck’s classicism – which sits between the earlier formal ornamentation of the baroque and the full-blown emotionalism of romanticism – articulates the intensity of the myth. “Gluck finds the emotive power of structure and form over ‘the laying it out with a trowel’. It may seem unyielding on the surface but, for me, has a great emotional impact. It is as if you are watching subtle cracks appear in a column.”
Their surface differences aside, both interpretations recognise the intrinsic dynamism and endurance of the myth, its combination of hope and catastrophe, and its continued resonance.
“These old stories – at some point they were brand new stories that spoke to their communities. Nothing we do is looking backwards but it has those thousands of years behind it,” concludes Flanagan-Wright, while Lifschitz comments that the subject matter is always relevant. “The tragedy has already occurred when they fall in love,” he says. “Love is a catastrophic rupture to the everyday. And there are layers of catastrophe that come together in that final moment.” And whether accompanied by Bruce Springsteen songs at a karaoke or the restraint of Gluck, Orpheus and Eurydice become ancient symbols of the star-crossed lovers.
Orpheus and Eurydice, Edinburgh Playhouse, 13-16 Aug, various times
Orpheus, Summerhall, 31 Jul-7 Aug, 9.30pm