There are few more tantalising torsos to be found in the history of opera than that of Donizetti’s abandoned Le Duc d’Albe. Commissioned to write two works for the Paris Opéra in 1839, the Italian composer, newly resident in the French capital, duly set out to adapt his Poliuto as the more Gallically apposite Les Martyrs, while simultaneously beginning work on the opera whose remains we have here.

It is unclear why that second project never came to fruition. Two acts were composed and the remainder planned out when problems arose. Firstly, Donizetti was in a queue behind Halévy and Meyerbeer, neither of whom seemed in any hurry to deliver their commissions. Then there were rumours of a change of prima donna in the offing, potentially rendering his plans for writing a radical spitfire heroine obsolete. 

Years dragged by. In 1845, one of the librettists, Eugène Scribe, sued the management to free up his text. Donizetti considered doing the same, but a year later he was a spent force, confined to an asylum suffering the final stages of tertiary syphilis. In the end, Scribe tactfully changed the location to medieval Sicily under the Normans and flogged his idea to Verdi, who triumphed in 1855 with Les Vêpres Siciliennes.

Various hands have attempted to complete the 1840 score, but Opera Rara have opted here to record only what can be said to be original Donizetti – and very fine it is. The first two acts revolve around the vengeful Hélène, orphaned daughter of the murdered Duke of Egmont, rallying the Flemish patriots while her co-conspirators consider how best to fight back against their Spanish oppressors. Her love interest is Henri, a plucky patriot who doesn’t yet know that he is really the son of the occupying general, the tyrannical Duke of Alba.

The score is packed with interest and memorable ideas, beautifully rendered by the Hallé under the dynamic baton of Sir Mark Elder. Making her Opera Rara debut, the American soprano Angela Meade is a thrilling Hélène, whether hurling words of defiance or romancing in lyrical duet. Michael Spyres is a perfect match as Henri, singing with firm, clear tone. Laurent Naouri makes a baleful Duc d’Albe with fine support from David Stout as his snarling henchman and Gianluca Buratto as a patriotic local brewer.

In his last five years, Donizetti was clearly striking out in new and imaginative ways, exploring the kind of structural ideas that would come to fruition with Giuseppe Verdi. Listening to this lovingly produced and superbly engineered recording, you can’t help thinking, what a terrible loss.