How to have something new to say in one of the most celebrated operas of all time? This was the challenge facing director Orpha Phelan in Irish National Opera's new production of La bohème. By setting the opera in Paris in the 1920s, assembling a stellar cast of singers and with no little help from the realistic sets, costumes and the super-responsive orchestra, she succeeded in creating an emotionally-charged, masterful production of this classic tear-jerker.
Moving the action on 90 years from 1830s Paris makes sense of the Bohemian ambience so central to the opera’s plot and that fortunately doesn’t create any extra mental gymnastics for the audience in having to work out the adjusted historical nuances. Phelan’s conception of the work is faithful, yet inventive, stressing both the amusing and tragic elements as they come.
Nicky Shaw's sets and costume designs are spot-on, readily capturing the gritty, bohemian atmosphere. An impressive two-storey outer wall, lined with arches and windows, functions as both the ramshackle, impoverished artists’ studio and as the cheerful commercial backdrop to the Café Momus. In Act 3 the same wall pivots to create the perspective of a long street and, coupled with snow falling, conveys the cold destitution in store for the lovers. The only puzzling thing about the sets in Act 1 was the inclusion of large modern photos of hands which seemed to play a symbolic role too within the action.
Costumes are lively and relatable, with caps and waistcoats being the order of the day and some wonderful, if brief, pageantry from the police and marching band. The transformation of Musetta in Act 2 from top-hat-and-tails to sequins is hilarious.
The cast was memorable and evenly matched. When Celine Byrne's Mimì wasn’t coughing, as her consumptive character demands, she soared gracefully, her golden soprano capturing not only Rodolfo's heart, but that of the audience too. She has that magnificent ability to weave a gossamer thread of melody with delicacy and also, when needed, to launch forth with stunning power. From her “Sì, mi chiamano Mimì” to her deathbed moments, she ravished the ear.
There was real chemistry between Byrne and Merũnas Vitulskis' Rodolfo, the Lithuanian tenor proving a worthy counterpart. Possessing a mellifluous tone, the sweet heft of his voice took a little time to open up but by the time Mimì appeared on the scene, his warm singing of “Che gelida manina” caressed our senses. With his fellow bohemians, his Rodolfo was a lively character, ready to sacrifice his play for warmth with good humour by burning it or joining them in throwing around a baguette.
Sarah Brady makes for a feisty Musetta, singing her famous waltz song with verve and seductive brilliance. Her Act 3 spat with Marcello made for an amusing counterpoint to the principal lovers. As Marcello, baritone Iurii Samoilov shone wonderfully as he harrumphed in disgust at Musetta's Act 2 antics and provided good comic relief throughout the opera. Gyula Nagy (Schaunard) and Lukas Jakobski (Colline) were both in fine voice and entertained in the opening and closing acts.
Kudos goes to the Irish National Opera Chorus, who sang out lustily and provided wonderful street scenes and ambience. The children’s chorus sang charmingly and acted out their parts with aplomb.
Finally – and absolutely crucially – Sergio Alapont held everything together in the pit, conducting the orchestra with terrific panache. He eked out every ounce of heart-throbbing passion and rich tonal colours from those romantic swells that punctuate Puccini's score, although never once did they overpower the singers in this scintillating performance.
