For once the New Chamber Opera’s annual offering was uninterrupted by rain throughout its run of eight performances in the Warden’s Garden in New College, Oxford. Not even were the recommended blankets required during the second half. Allowed to park in College but far from the Cloisters, we enjoyed a walk through the beautifully tended Gardens to arrive in time for a pre-performance lecture by the director and scholar Michael Burden. Following a drink in the Cloisters and the first part of the opera, we enjoyed the supper interval as guests of Oxford Friends of the Welsh National Opera.

The opera was Handel’s Tamerlano, the second of three of his greatest collaborations with librettist Nicola Francesco Haym – the others are Giulio Cesare in Egitto and Rodelinda – all written between 1724 and 1725 for The Royal Academy of Music. This had been formed by subscription ‘by the Nobility’ in 1713 as ‘a project for erecting an academy at the Haymarket’ with the intention of ‘securing a constant stream of Operas to be composed by Handel and performed under his direction’. It lasted until 1728. Tamerlano was first given at the King’s Theatre on 31 October 1724. It is the least performed of these three operas; the other two have almost become part of the repertoire with recent outstanding productions at Glyndebourne and New York Metropolitan demonstrating them to be among the greatest of all operas for characterisation and complexity of plot. The characters are all flawed human beings with real conflicts of head and heart (well-suited to the ABA structure of da capo arias!). In Tamerlano there is little genuine romantic content, the characters being driven by political manipulation and thoughts of revenge. I have seen it twice, once in 1982 in a production by WNO in an English version, Tamburlaine, impossible to follow with no surtitles – one of that company’s few complete disasters. The second time was in Drottningholm, Sweden, a complete baroque realisation directed by Pierre Audi in 2000 during Cristophe Rousset’s time as music director. Michael Burden has tried to reproduce it as close as possible to the original well-documented first opening which he described in his talk, with a hand out of the script in Italian with English translation.

If they were named for their most important characters, Giulio Cesare would be Cleopatra, Rodelinda would be Bertarido, and Tamerlano would be Bajazet (pronounced ‘Buyazet’). Bajazet has been defeated and is held prisoner by Tamerlano but is allowed the freedom of the palace because Tamerlano wishes to marry his daughter Asteria, who is in love with the Greek Prince Andronico. Lurking in the background is Irene, betrothed to Tamerlano but not yet known to him, disguised as her own messenger (like Cleopatra in Giulio Cesare) and accompanied by Leone. Bajazet is a manic depressive (sorry – bipolar) and his condition is worsened by Asteria appearing to accept Tamerlano’s hand without telling her father of her intention to stick a knife into him at their first embrace. Confused by the complexities of the plot, Bajazet takes poison and leaves the stage, leading to an otherwise conventional ending which pairs Tamerlano with Irene and Andronico with Asteria.

The singing and playing was of the high standard now expected of New Chamber Opera. Remarkable on this occasion was the clarity of the words, perhaps helped by the location of the orchestra tent, which closed the rectangle formed by the performers’ pavilion and the rows of audience on either side. Sung in an English translation by Andrew V Jones, every word could be heard except when interrupted by police sirens, helicopters and birdsong. Tamerlano and Andronico were performed by countertenors Daniel Keating-Roberts and Joe Bolger, Bajazet by tenor Daniel Auchinloss, and Leone by bass Giles Davies; the ladies were Kate Semmens (Asteria) and Joanne Edworthy (Irene), neither strangers to NCO. Bajazet caught the attention right from the start, others took time to warm up but all were singing magnificently at the end; we remember in particular the final arias of Irene and of Tamerlano. Lucas also impressed in his minor role. As usual the accompaniment was provided by The Band of Instruments, led by Caroline Balding and conducted from the harpsichord by Steven Devine. While a little light on strings, there was some fantastic oboe playing from Kate Latham and Jane Downer. The choreography and interaction between performers were again directed in characteristic fashion by Michael Burden, allowing each part of the audience to get a share of the close-ups.

There remains one great problem. The dramatic climax of the opera is undoubtedly the suicide of Bajazet. In the Drottningholm production his death by poison, performed seated by Nigel Robson, was terrifyingly realistic. It was one of those operatic moments which stay with one forever. We now know that this staging broke the convention of baroque opera (shared with Greek drama) that characters do not die on stage. Michael Burden has pointed out that the original stage direction is: ‘He goes tottering to retire within the Scenes, supported by Asteria and Andronicus’, giving sufficient liberty to the director to produce a worthy melodramatic climax. From where we were sitting, albeit at the far end of the ‘Scenes’, Bajazet appeared casually to wander off the stage in the company of the others, his condition hardly depicted.