Short terms, competing academic and extracurricular commitments, and the enthusiast nature of student theatre all conspire to work against the products of Cambridge’s singers, actors, and directors, resulting in shows that are often entertaining, but lack the polish that marks the difference between professional and amateur performance. Even the highest rent output, commanding the best of the University’s student-thespians and producers, often receives a pass for its shortcomings. “It’s a student play, after all. Not everything can be perfect.”

"The technical and artistic mastery of the company’s singers and instrumentalists went far beyond that of the typical Cambridge production"

Although not everything was perfect at the Dorian Chamber Orchestra’s one-night concert performance of Henry Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas, the technical and artistic mastery of the company’s singers and instrumentalists went far beyond that of the typical Cambridge production, serving as a reminder of the immense talent that is gathered in the less popular musical offerings of Cambridge chapel choirs and chamber ensembles.

This English reimagining of the Classical tale tells the tragic story of the love between Trojan exile Aeneas and Dido, Queen of Carthage. The 17th-Century work is the only true opera in Henry Purcell’s oeuvre, and is one of the earliest examples of the form produced in England. While Aeneas loves Dido, he is deceived by witches bent on the queen’s destruction who send a minion disguised as Mercury to trick the Trojan hero into leaving Carthage for Italy. Abandoned by her love, Dido succumbs to a broken heart and perishes.

Despite being un-staged, the drama of this scenario was made abundantly clear in the Dorian Chamber Orchestra’s production at Pembroke College Chapel. With choir arrayed on either side of the orchestra, soloists would rise to perform their arias, duets, and recitatives at set spots in front of the other performers. Rather than merely deliver notes from a page, however, the singers allowed the plot of the story to inform their performances, using the libretto as a guide to appropriate facial expression and interactions between the performers. Although Dido and Aeneas did not move from their prescribed spots, the interaction between Charlotte Bröker—who provided a remarkable performance throughout—and Jamie Conway in the lovers’ final confrontation exemplified the pain, anger, and sadness of the opera’s tragic conclusion.

Perhaps veering too far in the dramatic direction for this concert performance was the elaborate mask, cape, and wig of Richard Decker’s Sorceress—the only such costume on display. While the evil hatred of the chief witch drips from every consonant of Decker’s distinct diction, his particularly dramatic performance, showing less vocal restraint than the other soloists, is perhaps better suited to a larger hall than the intimate enclosure of a small college chapel.

Clear voice and straight tone distinguish English Baroque performance from later Italianate and Teutonic examples generally associated with the word ‘opera,’ and these were qualities much in vogue at the Dorian Chamber Orchestra’s performance. Molly Noon, playing Dido’s sister, Belinda, mastered the technique well, allowing the intricacies of Purcell’s music to shine unencumbered by too much affect.

Purcell’s music is most technically impressive in the polyphonic duets of Dido and Aeneas, best exemplified by ‘Fear No Danger to Ensue’ performed by Noon and Lorna Price in the opera’s first act, and a delightful recorder duo over continuo in the show’s latter third. These pieces—almost more than any others—typify the playful voice leading of baroque performance and transport listeners through time to that still-loved period of English compositional style.

Samuel Huston deserves great credit for his musical direction and sensitivity to period practice and subtlety. While largely technically correct, there were fleeting moments of shakiness in the orchestral performance, but Huston wisely did not allow a focus on technique to get in the way of imparting sensitive musical direction to his performers. Quick and coordinated dynamic changes lent the score’s repeating sections greater interest and an air of confidence lacking in most Cambridge theatrical ensembles. The surprisingly large choir sang as one, clearly relishing their role while reacting deftly to the commands of Huston’s baton, even while performing the difficult and intricate passages of Purcell’s more complicated measures.

The free, one-night-only performance filled Pembroke Chapel to the brim, leaving standing room only at the back of the nave, but a quick glance around the audience led to the conclusion that the chief beneficiaries of the Dorian Chamber Orchestra’s delightful performance were not Cambridge students, but instead several multiples older than the talented young performers on stage. Cambridge students would do well to follow the example of these more aged audience members and heed the extraordinary work of their peers in less popular and contemporary forms of music. The meticulous excellence and joy of performance on display at Dido and Aeneas reminds one of the good fortune they have to live and work in the company of such talent, inspiring us to strive for the best in all facets of our endeavors.