Directed and Set Design by Yaron Lifschitz

Choreographed by Yaron Lifschitz, Bridie Hooper & Circa Ensemble

Composed by Gluck

Libretto by Calzabigi

The Edinburgh Playhouse

Rising from the pits of Hades and defying both mortal realms and gravity—literal and emotional—Orpheus and Eurydice at the Edinburgh Playhouse is a breathtaking fusion of opera and acrobatics, myth and movement. Directed and designed by Yaron Lifschitz, with choreography by Lifschitz, Bridie Hooper, and the Circa ensemble, this European premiere of Opera Queensland’s staging plunges us into the underworld of the psyche with astonishing visual and emotional clarity. It’s a crimson-stained jewel in this year’s International Festival crown.

From the moment Eurydice descends in a mist of golden haze, suspended midair in a crimson costume, the tone is set: this is a world where death is fluid, tumbling, and hypnotic. The Circa ensemble—Brisbane-based masters of physical storytelling—chart Orpheus’s descent through layered, levelled movement that mirrors the opera’s emotional terrain. Bodies cascade, climb, and collapse in towers of grief and longing, their choreography echoing the myth’s cyclical torment. The verticality of the staging—dancers walking horizontally across walls, rolling through space, diving into voids—evokes the disorientation of loss and the perilous journey through the underworld.

Structured with references to mental incarceration, the set—a stark white box—becomes a canvas for Boris Bagattini’s video design and Alexander Berlage’s lighting, which together conjure a dreamscape of symbols and decay. Supertitles dissolve like memory across the walls. A green circle of grass appears, red petals fall, and the chorus—drawn from Scottish Opera—becomes part of the architecture, their bodies and voices entwined with the scenery. Libby McDonnell’s costume design is a triumph of temptation: hypnotic reds, spectral whites, and shadowy blacks swirl through the production, each hue a siren call to Orpheus’s resolve.

Vocally, the production is world-class. Iestyn Davies (Orpheus) delivers Gluck’s score with aching purity, his countertenor shimmering with grief and restraint. Samantha Clarke (Eurydice/Amor) offers a dramatic counterpoint—her soprano full-bodied and radiant, especially in moments of confrontation and despair. Under Laurence Cummings’s baton, the Scottish Chamber Orchestra plays with lithe elegance and emotional depth. Their phrasing is crisp, their dynamics responsive, and their partnership with the Circa ensemble is symbiotic. The orchestra doesn’t merely accompany; it breathes with the movement, underscoring each aerial arc and descent with musical nuance.

What elevates this production beyond spectacle is its layered storytelling. The acrobatics are dramaturgical, not decorative. Each leap, fall, and inversion reflects Orpheus’s psychological unravelling and Eurydice’s spectral presence. In one haunting sequence, dancers crawl over Orpheus like manifestations of his grief; in another, a trio of male performers weave and dive in a kinetic meditation on loss.

Yet, as impressive as the staging is, it occasionally distracts from the libretto and the storytelling at the heart of Gluck’s opera. The sheer visual density—while often breathtaking—can overwhelm the emotional clarity of the text. At times, the acrobatics risk becoming the focus rather than the vessel, pulling attention away from the music’s emotional arc and the myth’s quieter moments of devastation.

Still, this Orpheus and Eurydice is a triumph of collaboration—between voice and body, music and movement, myth and modernity. It’s not just a descent into Hades; it’s a journey into the heart of mourning, memory, and the perilous hope of return. Borrowing phenomenal Scottish talent, the production also gestures toward what’s possible when resources meet ambition—while creatives in Scotland continue to push against the constraints of their own financial underworld

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