A lot of work must have gone into the production of Gluck’s Il Parnaso Confuso, of which Ian Peter Bugeja was both artistic and music director.

It was a pity, too, that this enjoyable romp, featuring an Apollo quibbling with three of his muses, had only one performance. This was at Wilton’s Music Hall in London, the UK, a listed building not originally meant for opera productions, but which lends itself well to it.

It must have been gratifying to the production team that the per-formance was very well attended, because baroque opera buffs did not want to miss this sole opportunity.

So what does Apollo quibble about? Put simply, the putting on of entertainment suitable to the celebration of an imperial wedding. The god musters Melpomene, Euterpe and Erato for the job, but not all goes smoothly and the sisterly bickering ends up with the wedding proceeding with no entertainment.

The dejected muses gain heart when Apollo informs them that, after all, their presence would be enough for the gathering of gods on Mount Parnassus to marking the wedding happening below.

Listening to the music, one realises that this is classy, vintage Gluck. The vocal parts are also proof of difficult, sophisticated and stylish writing to a libretto by no less than Metastasio. It shows to what extent and how very musically talented were some Habsburgs. The opera was written for five of Empress Maria Theresa’s children, and the wedding was of their eldest brother, the future Josef II to Josefa of Bavaria, as his second wife in what was to be a loveless, childless marriage.

The muses tried their best in a romp that was set some two centuries later. The only lip service to the original period was a not-too-elegant white wig and (short) bouffant skirt worn by counter-tenor Cenk Karaferya as Erato, muse of lyric and erotic poetry. Apollo was often seen communicating with the other gods on a mobile phone and he and the Muses even took a few selfies! At one point Euterpe (muse of music) was plucking the strings of what looked like a plastic electronic lyre. Melpomene, the muse of tragedy looked like a harassed, self-pitying writer in a plain black dress. Her antics, like those of Erato and Euterpe, created some really comic situations.

It was a pity that this enjoyable romp had only one performance

Bugeja directing his Les Bougies Baroques kept the pace moving, the texture increasingly fluid and smooth bar an initial uncertainty very quickly put right. He directed from the harpsichord, at the helm of an orchestral complement of 14 musicians performing on period instruments. The singing was really first class.

The recitatives were crisply rendered, diction all round was clear and arias were very well projected. Soprano Daire Halpin as Apollo sang with a lovely crystalline voice, which was an absolute delight in In Fronte a Voi Risplende and, later, in the even more taxing coloratura Vi Scuseranno Assai.

Another highlight was the only duet in the opera, which had Apollo singing with Melpomene  Nel Mirar Solo i Sembianti, sharing the laurels with mezzo-soprano Louisa Petais. The latter had great moments such as when she could not find enough inspiration to write tragic verses and, later still, in an aria during which she destroys the pages she describes as “faithless companions”.

Soprano Alison Manifold’s  Eutere produced some of the most comic tantrums and had a truly brilliant moment when all her attempts failed to distract oboist Jan Hutek in his fine obbligato contribution to her Siediti Dunque e Ascol-tami. She, too, was in great form.

The same could be said of Cenk Karaferya, the only singer in this cast whom I had heard elsewhere. His voice has become more resonant and resolute and his acting as convincing as ever. Some of his deadpan expressions were very funny and spoke volumes. He also had three shorter solos, which were very well rendered.

Due credit to the success of the evening also goes to Anna Pool’s slick stage direction, Maciej Krajewski’s production design and Maddy Rita Faye’s often wacky props and costumes.