As
our Regional Editor of Seen and Heard records, (see article)
the Welsh National Opera conceived of an interesting marketing
strategy when they sent ticket purchasers for La Bohème a
packet of paper handkerchiefs to arrive by post the following
day.
Well, the death of the young consumptive Mimi can be emotional,
not merely because she dies so young, but just as Verdi did
in La Traviata forty-three years before, Puccini invests
the death scene with some of his most poignant melodies and
motifs. I have seen both operas many times and the conclusion
generally leaves me with a lump in my throat. I lost young
friends to tuberculosis in Britain's post-Second World War
epidemic. The lucky ones spent several years in countryside
sanatoria with lives, careers and education on hold. Tuberculosis
is today considered a disease of poverty and overcrowded
living conditions, just like the squalor that the accommodation
the four young bohemian artists share in the novel by Henri
Murger (1822-1861) so evocatively put to music by Puccini.
In
this production by Giancarlo del Monaco the aim is a cinematographic
representation. The sets, by Michael Scott with lighting
by Wofgang von Zoubek, bring that ideal to stunning realisation.
Although set in a period sixty or so years later than Murger's
original novel (Scenes de la Vie de Boheme), the 1890s
scenes are fully realistic and the imaginative lighting enables
quick and subtle changes of location as well as focusing,
when appropriate, on the more intimate scenes.
The
garret that the artists share is spacious and untidy as well
as freezing cold. Puccini allows his two lovers to warm their
voices before their big first act arias and duet through
the student-type frolics and the conning of the landlord
when he comes to collect the promised rent. All achieved
without recourse to slapstick. Even Mimi gets some introductory
phrases as she comes to the garret for a light for her candle.
By then, only Rodolfo remains, his colleagues having left
him to his creative struggle. The director lets us see that
Mimi's lost key has been found and that she knows that Rodolfo's
aims are to keep her talking; the scene is set for one of
the most melodic closing scenes in all opera. Aquiles Machado as Rodolfo launches Che gelida manina (Disc
1 Ch. 6) with sensitivity and good open-throated tone. Having
previously asked Mimi if she was feeling better after her
little faint (Disc 1 Ch. 5) in a gentle sotto voce, he shows vocal and artistic sensitivity
in his phrasing to which is added good legato. When he opens
his throat at qui son it is forte without spread or
wobble. He acts with sincerity but his small, over-rotund
figure, is a serious disadvantage. Inva Mula's Mimi is most
appealing in demeanour and vocalisation. She too can sing
softly and her quick vibrato is never obtrusive. In Si,
mi chiamano Mimi (Disc 1 Ch. 7), she is pert, alert and
with good body and facial language to complement excellent
diction, legato, characterisation and phrasing. The concluding
duet (Disc 1 Ch. 8) is lovely to with the direction and lighting
focused on the couple as the scene changes quickly to act 2 at the
square and the Cafe Momus.
In
this production the act 2 entertainments have not been spared.
There are diverse street entertainers including acrobats
on a bar, jugglers, stilt walkers and a gypsy reading cards
among the melange as Parpignol arrives with his trinkets
(Disc 1 Chs. 9-10). Inva Mula's Mimi
really looks lovelorn when Musetta arrives, complete with
pet mini-poodle. Musetta ascends the bar to show off her
legs and her waltz song (Disc 1 Ch. 10). Laura Giordano's
legs are shapely enough and although her vocal tone is a
little thin, it is musical and no way acidic. By this stage
the physically imposing Fabio Maria Capitanucci has shown
some burnished baritone tone as Marcello. But it is in act
three and four that his considerable vocal and acted contribution
is best appreciated.
The
setting of the frontier gate that is the focus of act three
is very natural and atmospheric (Disc 2 Chs. 1-4). The opulently
dressed but overexposed flesh of the whore outside the inn
belies the winter scene as Mimi comes seeking Rodolfo. Marcello
and Musetta quarrel convincingly whilst Mimi and Rodolfo
say their farewells (Ch. 4). Whereas just previously in duet
with Marcello, Machado had over-sung a little, he is at his sensitive best as, looking
fraught, he sings and so you are leaving me my little
one. Here fine mezza voce tone and elegance of
phrase is in evidence whilst Inva Mula looks bereft. Musetta's
temperamental departure on an incongruous non-period bicycle
is one of the few jarring moments in the production.
Act
four (Disc 2 Chs. 5-11) is back in the bohemian's garret.
After a very finely and expressively sung duet between Rodolfo
and the equally fulsomely-toned Marcello (Ch. 6) the gavotta
(Ch. 7) is a bit over the top as the men make a mess of their
room, including the wrecking of the bed to leave a mattress
on the floor. The purpose of that is evident as the dying
Mimi returns and is laid on it. Mid-shots focus on the group
and then the Colline of Felipe Bou as he sings a slightly
throaty farewell to his coat (Ch. 10) and departs with Schaunard,
leaving the lovers alone. With Mimi on the mattress in close-up
and the subtle lighting focused on her, Mula is superb as
she sings of the bonnet that Rodolfo bought her. Her sotto
voce as she reprises the Che gelida manina motif
of act one on the breath, and again as she cradles her hands
in the muff bought with Musetta's earrings, is of the highest
order. The soft lighting is fully focused on her as Mimi
falls asleep and dies. Those poignantly awful moments of
drama as Musetta prays and Rodolfo does not realise that
Mimi has gone forever are well portrayed by director and
camera. As Rodolfo does so and cries "Mimi! Mimi!"
he turns and runs towards the rear of the stage that is suddenly
lit with a backdrop of the empty streets of Paris. He runs
towards them and the loneliness into which he is heading;
a mini coupe de theatre.
At
the end of the scene of this last act, this old opera cynic,
who has seen more La Bohèmes than enough over the
last fifty years or so, needed to send for his own pack of
handkerchiefs. This last scene in this production has a poignancy
and immediacy of emotional impact that few opera performances
rise to. Much is owed to Mula's superb singing and acting
as well as Lopez-Cobos's pacing of the music. However we
should not forget the production and lighting that directs
the eye and mind to what is after all the final central drama
of what is at heart an opera of disturbing sociological comment.
I doubt that in the years since the first production at Teatro
Regio, Turin, on 1 February 1896, many productions of La
Bohème have achieved what Giancarlo del Monaco and his
team do here. There are no producer concepts and even if
the production cost a bomb, and I suspect it has, such efforts
give the impact the composer intended when he gave its writing
the blood and tears of his creativity. In this day and age
too often composers are overlooked by bigger egos while cost
does not always equate with quality of concept as it manifestly
does here.
Recorded
over three days the sound and picture detail are first rate.
The booklet has an essay by Giancarlo del Monaco titled Puccini-composer
and cinematographer, setting out his arguments for his
approach which is among the best I have seen in this or any
other opera for some years. The booklet is also innovative
in giving the chapter listing via pictures from the production.
This production, performance and the quality of recording
far surpasses that by Pavarotti and the finely portrayed
Mimi of Renata Scotto in the 1972 recording from the Met (see review) and
quite a few other productions in a crowded market.
Robert J Farr
|
|
Rodolfo,
Aquiles Machado (ten); Mimi, Inva Mula (sop); Marcello,
Fabio Maria Capitanucci (bar); Musetta, Laura
Giordano (sop); Schaunard, David Menendez (bar); Colline,
Felipe Bou (bass); Alcindoro, Alfredo Mariotti (ten); Benoit,
Juan Tomas Martinez (bass); Parpignol, Gonzalo Fernandez
de Teran 
[2
DVDs: 149:00] 
