Opera Reviews
13 May 2024
Untitled Document

An artistic bohème


by Steve Cohen
Puccini: La bohème
Opera Company of Philadelphia
October 2012

Photo: Opera Company of PhiladelphiaIt's dangerous to get experimental with La bohème. The opera, after all, is specific to a time and a place. What's more, Puccini was theatrically precise and his music reflects the smallest details in the story: When a stove is lit, or a candle blows out, a cold wind blows, or someone tumbles down the stairs, the orchestra illustrates the action. So if a director tries to be too innovative he or she will run afoul of Puccini's intentions.

Therefore it was a pleasant surprise to behold the Opera Company of Philadelphia's new production. Director Davide Livermore was creative but he kept the time and place where they should be and he underlined this by using paintings from that period. The Philadelphia Museum of Art, Barnes Foundation and several other museums licensed digital images of their art to the opera company.

The Bohemian roommates of La bohème include an artist, of course, so it's natural to see him painting and to see works by other artists that inspired him. Livermore's choice of paintings was appropriate and the timing of their appearances was apt.

Renoir's Woman Sewing appeared when Mimi described her job as a seamstress. Van Gogh's Sunflowers dominated the walls as their romance bloomed, and Van Gogh's Starry Night when evening came. When Rodolfo bought a bonnet for Mimi we saw Renoir's Girl With Pink Bonnet.

In Act 4, Jean Beraud's After the Misdeed showed a woman bent over, in a blue dress. Mimi arrived in that distressed posture, and she wore a similar blue dress.

A painting Marcello was working on at the start of Act 3 was Monet's Morning Haze, digitally enhanced to include branches that swayed back and forth. Through the windows of the Bohemians's apartment you saw a cityscape by Pissaro, Morning Sunshine, and its clouds and chimney smoke moved. The production team animated the digital images in video-editing software called After Effects and then created an HD movie of the animated images which was rear-projected onto the sets and sometimes beamed onto Marcello's canvas.

The actions of the singers were somewhat busy but true to the story line. The horseplay among the men seemed right for a bunch of young guys on the Left Bank. Christmas Eve revelry at the Café Momus was intense, but appropriate, with street hawkers, stilt walkers, a fire breather, and the toy vendor Parpignol, while Musetta flirted with Marcello and her elderly date, Alcindoro, tried to satisfy her. To top it all off, a brass band marched across the stage.

I believe that Puccini would approve of this. No composer (save, perhaps, Meyerbeer) made such repeated use of theatrical spectacle. Witness his religious procession in Tosca, his horseback riding in Fanciulla del West and his Asian extravaganza in Turandot.

Norah Ansellem was an uncommonly appealing Mimi. It would be good to have a Mimi whose voice embodied fragility, as Licia Albanese and Maria Callas did. But I know of no one of that type today, and Ansellem did a great job of lightening her singing to indicate her character's weakness. She radiated warmth when she entered Rodolfo's cold apartment in the first act, and it was easy to see why he instantly fell for her. The two of them were immediately attracted - like "Some Enchanted Evening" before either Rodgers or Hammerstein were born.

Bryan Hymel was a stalwart Rodolfo, with singing that was ringing and sweet too. Troy Cook was the artist Marcello, in excellent voice and interacting nicely with the others. Leah Partridge was a Musetta who believably moved from superficiality to a loving caretaker for the dying Mimi.

Kevin Glavin excelled as Benoit the landlord in Act One and the bumbling Alcindoro in Act Two. Jeremy Milner was the deep-voiced Colline and Craig Verm was the baritone Schaunard.

One unusual piece of business was subtle and intriguing. During the playful high-jinx of the roommates, when Schaunard impersonated a dancing woman, Colline gave him a quick kiss on the lips. After Mimi died, those two men hugged each other in consolation. It is not out of the question that Bohemians in Paris in the 1890s might, just possibly, be gay and be accepted.

Corrado Rovaris was the sensitive conductor.

Text © Steve Cohen
Photo © Opera Company of Philadelphia
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