La Bohème

“…vocal and dramatic honors go to Finley… He was simply superb.” Opera Britannia

Composer: Giacomo Puccini
Libretto: Giacosa and Illica, after Henri Murger’s novel Scènes de la vie de Bohème
Venue and Dates: Metropolitan Opera House, New York
February 20, 24, 27 (mat), March 2, 6, 2010.
Also on 10, 13, 17, 20 (mat) March 2010 without Gerry
Conductor: Marco Armiliato
Production: Franco Zeffirelli (original production 1981)
Set Designer: Franco Zeffirelli
Costume Designer: Peter J. Hall
Lighting Designer: Gil Wechsler
Performers:
Mimì: Anna Netrebko
Musetta: Nicole Cabell (20, 24, 27 Feb; 2, 6 Mar) (Ruth Ann Swenson the other dates)
Rodolfo: Piotr Beczala
Marcello: Gerald Finley (20, 24, 27 Feb; 2, 6 Mar) (George Petean the other dates)
Schaunard: Massimo Cavalletti (20, 24, 27 Feb; 2, 6 Mar) (Patrick Carfizzi the other dates)
Colline: Oren Gradus (20, 24, 27 Feb; 2, 6 Mar) (Shenyang the other dates)
Benoit/Alcindoro: Paul Plishka
Parpignol: Jeremy Little
Notes: Broadcast live on Saturday, 27 February 2010, BBC Radio 3 at 18:00

Photo Gallery

What the critics say

Ronald Blum, Associated Press, 21 February 2010
(e.g. in the Seattle Times)

Anna Netrebko keeps getting better and better

On Saturday night, the Russian soprano began an extended run as Mimi in the Metropolitan Opera’s revival of Puccini’s “La Boheme,” after having appeared in a solitary performance of it in December 2006. With Polish tenor Piotr Beczala singing his first Met Rodolfo and superior casting in some supporting roles, it was an exemplary rendition of a repertory staple that often is routinely cast.

Now 38, Netrebko is just entering what should be her vocal prime. While not as known as her Violetta, her Mimi is becoming more familiar following the release of a movie in which she lip-synched to a soundtrack of her 2008 recording.

With an expressive face and big, brown eyes, she is vulnerable and tender when she enters Rodolfo’s garret on Christmas Eve. Her color-filled voice soars and commands the vast house for “Mi chiamano Mimi (They call me Mimi)” as the poet – and the audience – fall for her.

Beczala, a rising 43-year-old, has a precise and shimmering tenor that he manipulates impressively with inflection, and his boyish looks gave Rodolfo an all-too-seldom age appropriateness. His is neither the biggest nor warmest sound, but it is a winning and appealing one all the way to the top notes.

Netrebko and Beczala are scheduled to sing together again at this summer’s Salzburg Festival in Austria, in a revival of the staging of Gounod’s “Romeo et Juliette” that she withdrew from during her pregnancy leave two years ago.

Baritone Gerald Finley was an uncommonly touching Marcello and bass-baritone Shenyang, winner of the 2007 BBC Cardiff Singer of the World competition, gave a moving and mellifluous “Vecchia zimarra (Old coat),” Colline’s fourth-act aria as Mimi’s death nears, a short moment that stood out. Baritone Massimo Cavalletti, making his Met debut as Schaunard, sang strongly in the small role. Paul Plishka was entertaining as the bumbling landlord Benoit and Alcindoro, the old man accompanying Musetta to the Cafe Momus.

Soprano Nicole Cabell’s Musetta was somewhat bland in voice and acting. The biggest puzzle of the night was the conducting of Marco Armiliato. He tried to stretch sounds in search of beauty, but his tempi at key points was so slow that singers couldn’t sustain notes long enough. It caused a slight disconnect between the orchestra and the stage.

With Netrebko and Beczala commanding attention, Franco Zeffirelli’s 1981 production did not seem as oversized as usual, with nuances in singing and acting coming through. Applause greeted the large-as-life if not grander Cafe Momus – a stark contrast to the boos that greeted the production team of Luc Bondy’s opening-night “Tosca,” which replaced Zeffirelli’s 1985 production of that Puccini opera.

There are eight more performances through March 20, with next Saturday’s broadcast on radio.

Anthony Thomasini, New York Times, 21 February 2010

The Gang’s All Here: Mimi, Rodolfo and Zeffirelli

Typically the Metropolitan Opera takes a fill-in-the-blanks approach to casting Puccini’s “Bohème.” Both the opera and the Met’s lavish 1981 Franco Zeffirelli production are so popular that audiences will come no matter who is singing.

For the revival that opened on Saturday night, however, the Met had an exceptional roster of singers, headed by an established star soprano, Anna Netrebko, as Mimi, and an emerging star tenor, Piotr Beczala, as Rodolfo. Ms. Netrebko was the main draw, but in the opera world there is intense interest right now in Mr. Beczala, who made his Met debut in 2006 as the Duke in Verdi’s “Rigoletto.”

Mimi is one of Ms. Netrebko’s best roles, and she was wonderful. She sang whole phrases with an exceptionally rich yet focused sound. But as usual her singing was not flawless. Her approach exposed every slight deviation of pitch. Also true to form, she took great expressive liberties with her singing — sometimes prolonging, sometimes rushing phrases — liberties that the conductor Marco Armiliato was too willing to accommodate.

Quibbles aside, Ms. Netrebko is a major soprano with an alluring voice. Its dark, sensual warmth is ideal for Puccini. On Saturday she shaped phrases poignantly, cresting to top notes that shimmered throughout the house. There were slightly awkward glitches at times as her voice shifted between registers. Still you don’t often hear Mimi sung with such vivid character and sheer charisma.

As an actress Ms. Netrebko can be subtle to a fault, relying perhaps too much on her beauty and stage presence. But her combination of reticence and sensuality work well for Mimi, Puccini’s ailing bohemian seamstress whose outer meekness barely disguises her inner longing.

Mr. Beczala has it in him to be a great tenor, but is not quite there yet. There was both sweet lyricism and pinging intensity in his vibrant singing. He could not wait, it seemed, to dispatch the high-lying phrases of “Che gelida manina.”

It was a charming touch during this aria, when Mr. Beczala’s smitten Rodolfo, explaining himself to the captivated Mimi, awkwardly handed her some of his poems to read, as if to prove he really is a writer full of dreams. With his youthful vitality and physical agility, Mr. Beczala is an effective actor. Yet, as in previous performances, there was a shaky element in his singing. He lacks only security.

The baritone Gerald Finley, last seen at the Met as J. Robert Oppenheimer in John Adams’s “Doctor Atomic” (a riveting portrayal of a role Mr. Finley created), is an immensely gifted and versatile artist and was excellent as the hot-headed painter Marcello. He sang with robust sound, honesty, intelligence and impressive Italian diction. The soprano Nicole Cabell brought a luminous voice and perky sensuality to Musetta, although, as with many Musettas, she overdid the coquettish bit during “Quando me’n vo,” when this impetuous woman decides to re-ensnare Marcello, her ex-lover.

The Chinese bass-baritone Shenyang was a vocally hardy and earnest, if somewhat stiff, Colline. The Italian baritone Massimo Cavalletti, making his Met debut as Schaunard, certainly brought credentials to the job: he was a member of the young artists program at La Scala and was born in Lucca, Puccini’s hometown. His singing was robust and lively.

He was determined to steal the early scene when Schaunard explains how he came into some money. Mr. Cavalletti sang facing the audience, arms thrust, with his back to the roommates he was supposedly addressing. Over all, though, this was a strong ensemble effort, as any successful “La Bohème” must be.

Arlene J Klotzko, Opera Britannia, 1 March 2010

Last season, in conjunction with the valedictory appearances of Otto Schenk’s Ring cycle, Paul Driscoll’s column in Opera News ran a small but memorable item about two brothers, Aiden and Nigel Reiss, ages eleven and nine respectively. The Wagner Society of America had asked Aiden to review the Ring. Both brothers named Siegfried their favorite opera, but La boheme was their choice as the best first opera for a novice. When asked why, Nigel said “It’s not too long, it’s easy to follow, and it’s fun. It’s very romantic, so girls would like it too.”

Since its first performance at the Metropolitan Opera in 1900 (just four years after the world premiere in Turin with Arturo Toscanini conducting), La boheme has appeared far more often than any other work. Last night was its 1210th performance, with the twenty-nine-year-old Zeffirelli production drawing oohs and ahs from an audience that clearly included a number of novices. In these difficult days, when opera companies worldwide are grasping at every new strategy to grow their audiences, perhaps more attention should be paid to the irresistible power of this opera to transform a one-off opera goer into a lifelong opera lover.

Many opera sophisticates take a rather jaundiced view of La boheme. It seems so simple, so easy, so accessible.  Puccini’s inspired musical craftsmanship is not its most obvious feature. Instead, one notices his catchy tunes, extraordinary lyricism, and lovable characters. It really does seem like artless art. And especially when it is brought to life by a superb cast, as it was last night (with distinguished performances by Anna Netrebko, Piotr Beczala, and Gerald Finley, in particular), this opera can envelope and move an audience like few other works.

Franco Zeffirelli — that master of spectacular spectacles, the Cecil B. DeMille of opera – has certainly played a role in the opera’s popularity. This production has appeared well over three hundred times. In recent months, Zeffirelli has emerged as a rather polarizing figure, representing as he does the very antithesis of Met General Manager Peter Gelb’s aesthetic.

Gelb’s values became clear during the current season, the first over which he has had complete control. But it was at the invitation only press conference earlier this week, announcing the 2010-2011 season, that the medium itself became the message. The joint presentation by Gelb and James Levine, to a packed List Hall, featured six directors and one composer (John Adams) and no singers. Gelb emphasized the importance of drama – a very different kind of theatricality than Zeffirelli’s. He did this rather succinctly, but the orientation was made clear through video interviews with five incoming directors – Robert LePage, Nicolas Hytner, Peter Stein, Willy Decker, and Peter Sellars. The sixth director, Bartlett Sher, appeared in person.  Zeffirelli is simply not wanted anymore. Just this season, his Tosca and Carmen were replaced. La traviata vanishes after its series of spring performances. Rumor has it that Turandot may be on the endangered spectacles list.

The fate of La boheme remains unknown and the tea leaves can be read in varying ways. This season, there are to be nine performances. Next season will see a mind boggling seventeen outings, with rotating casts including Beczala and Joseph Calleja. The current run marks Beczala’s first Rodolfo in the house. Calleja has sung the role in Vienna but not yet in New York. He did sing “Che gelida manina” at the Met’s 125th anniversary gala. His warm, radiant voice filled the house. He was magnificent. The two tenors will also alternate as Rodolfo and Edgardo (in Lucia) for the Met’s 2011 Japan tour. Perhaps 2011 will, indeed, mark this production’s grand farewell. If so, it is certainly going out with all flags flying.

I hope the production is not about to be replaced because it works — dramatically as well as musically. Those who are displeased with it usually base their arguments on the set for Act II. Former Met General Manager, Joseph Volpe, described it as featuring 143 Parisian revelers, twenty-four street urchins, nineteen soldiers, fourteen vendors, a marching band of twelve, two live animals (a donkey and a horse) and a fake bear. He left out the man on stilts. It is, of course, vintage Zeffirelli in all senses of the world. But it does not undermine the drama or the characterization. It’s an interlude, an extraordinarily atmospheric conjuring up of the world portrayed in Murger’s novel, Vie de boheme. The vitality of the scene tells us that life goes on, personal stories and tragedies notwithstanding. The exuberance of it all is really the gaiety and playfulness of the four bohemians of the first and fourth acts writ large.

In the tumultuous context of the Act II set, the two couples could easily become lost amidst the throngs, but they don’t. Mimi and Rodolfo are moved to the front of the stage on the left; Marcello and Musetta are on the right. One happy and surely inadvertent consequence of this staging is that Beczala, who has a lovely but rather small voice for such a big house, could be heard much better in this act (and the third act as well), compared with acts one and four. Their position on the stage did not alter the audibility of the other singers.

In contrast to the over-the-top spectacle in Act II, the set for Acts I and IV is really (especially for Zeffirelli) rather simple. It’s the garret in which the bohemians live, cut out, so that we have interior and exterior views. The rooftops of Paris and the sky above provide the frame. And it is in these acts that the main characters (sung here by talented singing actors) reveal themselves and interact with such truth and poignancy. The set works equally well for the comic interplay, the love scene, and the death scene.

The set for Act III is simply stunning. Just as Act II amplifies the gaiety of the four friends, Act III gives Mimi’s illness and death a metaphysical dimension. The gently falling snow embodies the coldness of death. It’s almost Schubertian. Mimi’s cold hands of acts one and four become part of the cycle of nature. The snow is a kind of memento mori of the ineluctability of fate, even in the face of love.

The performances were splendid but the clear standouts were Ms. Netrebko, Finley, and Beczela. Of the three, vocal and dramatic honors go to Finley – a rather ironic situation as Marcello has no arias. But Finley gave him everything else. He is a Lieder singer and it showed. He sang with perfect diction and a finely calibrated sensitivity to the text. He created so much out of small moments – a telling phrase, a change in mood.  He sang with a wonderfully rich, sonorous voice throughout his range, exemplary phrasing, and a lovely legato line. His Marcello was full of personality, a passionate man, capable of both volatile anger and touchingly awkward tenderness. He embodied the character physically as well – always engaged with the others, and never indulging in superfluous gestures or stage business. He was simply superb.

While Finley’s portrayal was finely characterized, Ms. Netrebko’s performance was realized with a broader brush. She sang with a large voluptuous voice, richly colored in vivid dark hues. She has an amazing range; at the lower end she almost sounds like a mezzo. And she has a blooming seemingly effortless top, without a trace of shrillness. She sang “Mi chiamano Mimi” with a lovely tone and excellent control of dynamics. She caressed her phrases, indulging n a fair bit of milking and stretching out of tempi, but with such a marvelous vocal instrument, it’s rather difficult to object too strongly. Her intonation could be a bit spotty – this was particularly noticeable in her Act IV “Sono andati?” — and her diction was rather muddy compared with that of Finley and even Beczala.

In her acting, Ms.Netrebko was quite convincing. She is a young healthy-looking woman with a big strong voice. In order to convey her precarious (Act I) and then failing (Act IV) health, she refrained from a lot of fussy tubercular symptoms. Instead she used her voice. In the death scene, she sang with great subtlety, allowing the power and even the color to drain out of her voice. Her “Sono andati?” featured exquisite soft singing.

Beczala has flexible voice, quite expressive, with a lovely silvery tone, and a full rich top. But his voice is rather small for the Met. He seemed to be pushing quite a bit in the first act. By Act IV, either he had warmed up, or his slightly more forward placement on the garret set gave his voice more volume. He sang “Che gelida manina” with intelligent phrasing, tenderness of manner, and youthful ardor. His diction and dynamic control were good. He seemed to effortlessly reach and hold his high C.  But I missed the warmth, the sweetness, and the size of Calleja’s voice. In their Act I duet, “O soave fanciulla”, Ms. Netrebko and Beczala sang with beautiful tone, poignant phrasing and a wonderful, blooming top. They seemed to be falling in love before our eyes.

As Musetta, Nicole Cabell sang “Quando m’en vo” with a richly colored, voice and a lovely line. She was best in her middle and lower range and was a bit shrill at the top. Although, as is the case with many Musetta’s, she rather overdid the coquettish bits, she delivered a fine characterization of a manipulative worldly woman with a heart of gold.

Massimo Cavalletti made a fine Met debut as Schaunard. He has a deep sonorous baritone. He is also a good comic actor with a lively stage presence, full of life and fun. Oren Gradus as Colline sang the poignant “Vecchia zimarra” with an excellent legato line and power to spare. His voice is best at the lower end; the upper part of his range is not as rich.

The Met Chorus under Donald Palumbo delivered their usual splendid performance albeit their role here was mostly atmospheric. Marco Armilliato conducted the Met Orchestra with fine attention to Puccini’s intricate thematic structure and both the sweeping lyricism and subtle delicacies of the composer’s orchestral palette. He was always attentive to the singers. A particularly lovely moment came at the end of “O soave fanciulla” as the lovers left the stage. The orchestration grew thin with muted strings and woodwinds and then gradually – almost imperceptibly – disappeared into silence.

Joshua Rosenblum, operanews.com, May 2010

Franco Zeffirelli’s cinematically overstuffed and highly popular production of La Bohème, first unveiled at the Met in 1981, proved wondrous and durable as ever this season, especially with its impressive opening-night cast — Anna Netrebko and Piotr Beczala as Mimì and Rodolfo, Nicole Cabell and Gerald Finley as Musetta and Marcello. Netrebko’s presence felt like the big event going in, and indeed, it seemed as though everyone in the sold-out crowd stopped breathing when Mimì entered. Netrebko sang with her customary lush, ear-massaging beauty, plus an innate ability to spin out phrases of subtle shapeliness without making the listener conscious of her artistry. She seemed to feel no need to “act” weak or sickly — in fact, she did none of the coughing that’s indicated in the stage directions (although this may have been to preserve vocal health). As an artist, she has to do very little in order to command her audience’s attention completely.

Consequently, it was all the more remarkable that Cabell’s Musetta at times made you forget Netrebko’s presence entirely. A thoroughly impressive singer and gifted comedienne, Cabell presented a Musetta who was spoiled and manipulative, yet impossible to dislike — a comically self-absorbed narcissist to whom people are drawn in spite of themselves. Her “Quando me’n vo” had expertly coquettish phrasing that was indulgent, to be sure, but only within the limits of character. Cabell’s tone is liquid gold, and if her diction was a bit marble-mouthed, nobody seemed to mind. It was fully credible that Zeffirelli’s vast Latin Quarter crowds came to a screeching halt when she sang.

Beczala’s healthy tenor is gleaming and free-flowing all the way to the top, and he had real chemistry with Netrebko. True, there was a certain sameness in his phrasing and dynamics, but he was unfailingly vibrant in sound and ardent in delivery. Finley delivered a glowing, magnificent declaration of love for Musetta in Act II, and he was even better vocally in his Act III scene with Netrebko. Beczala and Finley also brought especially fine singing out of each other, and a similarity in their vocal coloring proved to be a definite asset in their Act IV duet. Bass-baritone Shenyang delivered a beautiful rendition of Colline’s “Vecchia zimarra” — steely but warm, tender and well-articulated. Joined by Massimo Cavalletti’s charismatic Schaunard, these bohemians indulged in high-spirited shenanigans that proved infectious.

Somehow, despite all the fine singing and acting, Mimì’s death lacked an emotional punch. This may have been due to the second intermission. Act III is less than half an hour: why did we need a thirty-minute break to change scenery before the equally brief Act IV? It cut into the dramatic pacing, to say the least. In fact, it was Cabell who provided the most moving part of the last act, with Musetta’s brief prayer for Mimì’s life.

The Met Orchestra was at its most splendid for the occasion, with rhapsodic, silvery-toned string playing. Conductor Marco Armiliato showed fluidity with the tempos and accommodated his singers skillfully without losing momentum.