Appearing as Mimì was Romanian soprano Angela Gheorghiu, while the part of Rodolfo was sung by Polish tenor Piotr Beczala. Italian conductor (and SF Opera’s music-director-to-be) Nicola Luisotti joined forces with chorus director Ian Robertson to help produce the visually and artistically stunning production directed by Harry Silverstein.
Romance, Parisian Style
Set in mid-19th century Paris, Puccini’s La Bohème chronicles the lives of a group of struggling artists: Rodolfo the poet, Mimì the seamstress, Marcello the painter, Musetta the singer, Schaunard the musician, and Colline the philosopher. There is a deep sense of kinship among the fictional artists, much like the one that existed among their historical contemporaries: Chopin, Liszt, George Sand, and Delacroix. Also, like their real-life counterparts, the group is tragically torn apart by consumption, a disease that reached epidemic proportions in the artistic community of Paris in the 1800s.
The four men share an attic apartment, while Mimì and Musetta live nearby. Mimì knocks on the door one evening, asking for a match to light her candle, just as Rodolfo is on his way out to join the rest of the gang at Café Momus. Their encounter is love-at-first sight of the lightning-bolt, earth-shattering kind.
Mimì drops her key in the excitement, and the two of them end up on all fours frantically looking for it in the dark. Mimì’s ice-cold hand brushes against Rodolfo’s, leading to the tenor’s aria “Che gelida manina” (What a Cold Little Hand), which Beczala sang with remarkable clarity and charisma. Mimì replies with an aria of her own, “Sì, mi chiamano Mimì” (Yes, They Call Me Mimì), delivered with the gentle, stirring tones that are Gheorghiu’s alone. There are subtle visual clues that Mimì’s visit is not accidental, but an innocent yet calculated attempt to seduce Rodolfo.
As Rodolfo and Mimì celebrate their newfound love in the soaring duet “O soave fanciulla” (Oh, Gentle Maiden), the light inside the attic apartment was dimmed as other light sources from behind the walls grew in brightness revealing the astonishing translucent construction of the set. The lovers were thus bathed in bluish moonlight from all sides in the powerful closing scene of Act 1.
Act 2 opens in the “Quartier Latin” (Latin Quarter) of Paris, perfectly populated by the highly skilled and colorfully costumed chorus. On the way to Café Momus, Rodolfo buys Mimì a pink bonnet as they walk hand-in-hand through the snow-dusted boulevards. The Parisian sights and sounds of a forgotten age came to life with amazing vividness and brilliance on stage at the War Memorial Opera House.
Norah Amsellem: A Name to Remember
The scene at Café Momus is largely dominated by the playful Musetta, portrayed brilliantly here by French soprano Norah Amsellem. While the masses may have come to hear their beloved Gheorghiu, many also fell under the spell of a striking and talented Amsellem as she sang Musetta’s famous waltz, “Quando me n’vo” (When I Walk Along). This aria is arguably the best known in the whole of soprano repertoire. Amsellem’s note-perfect performance was both flirtatious and humorous in just the right proportions and at just the right moments.
Musetta arrives at the café in the company of her elderly and wealthy companion. Upon seeing Marcello—with whom she has had a tempestuous love affair in the past—she feels compelled to seduce him once more, if only to convince herself of her own irresistible charm. She quickly discovers that she actually still loves Marcello. That evening, she abandons her rich escort in favor of the impoverished painter.
The good times at Café Momus in Act 2 come to an abrupt end with the bleak opening of Act 3. A noticeably pale and thin Mimì, weakened by the illness eating away at her core, is wandering aimlessly through the cold streets one evening when she runs into Marcello. She tells him that Rodolfo has left her, and desperately asks for help in the aria “O buon Marcello, aiuto” (Oh, Good Marcello, Help Me), which Gheorghiu sang with exceptional emotion.
Mimì quickly hides in the shadow when Rodolfo also arrives and begins to confide in Marcello. Unaware that Mimì can hear his every word, Rodolfo admits that he has left Mimì because of the severity of her illness and his own inability to pay for her medicine. By leaving Mimì, Rodolfo tells Marcello the heart-breaking truth that he hopes she will find a wealthy suitor who can pay for her medical care.
At this point, Mimì’s uncontrollable coughing makes Rodolfo aware that she has heard everything. The two reconcile in tears and pledge to stay together until the spring when life awakens. In stark contrast to the couple’s moving and tender words, Musetta joins the scene and begins quarrelling with Marcello. Act 3 ends in a musically ingenious contradictory quartet, with one couple fighting while the other reconciles.
The final act takes place back in the attic apartment. Rodolfo and Marcello try to work and pretend to live normal lives, but secretly brood over having left Mimì and Musetta in the spring. Unexpectedly, Musetta arrives out of breath with Mimì, and says that she ran into her in the street in a frightful state. They help Mimì into the bed. Musetta and Marcello then leave to pawn Musetta’s earrings so they can buy medicine, and Colline bids farewell to his overcoat, which he takes off and carries away to be sold, accompanied by Schaunard.
Alone, Rodolfo and Mimì reminisce about their first encounter—the candle and the lost key. The others return with a muff and some medicine and announce that a doctor is on the way, but Mimì quietly dies as Musetta prays. Everyone knows it but Rodolfo, who is still rambling nervously. He suddenly stops and asks why everyone is looking at him strangely. This, of course, is the most tragic moment of the opera, signaled by a dull crash of the cymbals.
A timeless tale of unfulfilled love, Puccini’s immortal music, Luisotti’s unequaled conducting, and a stellar cast made San Francisco Opera’s La Bohème into this season’s blockbuster. The opera’s record-level ticket sales were a welcome contradiction to the current global economic crisis.
Eman Isadiar teaches piano at the Peninsula Conservatory and writes about music in the San Francisco Bay Area.
