English National Opera

4th March 2009

It is impossible, not, to enjoy an opera of such splendour, at least, to some degree. But I must, sadly, admit, to the most unalloyed, of disappointments, to so great an extent, that I, so nearly, gave this production, but two stars. The ENO had, one of the greatest of productions, so sweet in its simplicity, so overpowering, in its emotions, but this, sadly, has been replaced, by this monstrosity, of Jonathan Miller. Monstrosity is, perhaps, for many, too strong a word, but I must confess, a production, that so wholly, aborts, the emotion, the love, of the characters, and, actively, cruelly, prevents us from sharing, in the most intimate detail, the thoughts, and life, of the bohemians, is not a production, I can, wholeheartedly, enjoy. This production devastated me.

The set, for Acts 1 and 4, was on two levels, with the flat, of Rodolfo, and his friends, occupying the top level. It was very small, and very far back, from the edge, of the stage. It seemed, so tragically, far away, and I was, almost, detached. I want to feel, with La boheme, that I am, almost, in their flat, that they are, truly, completely, sharing their lives with me. The stairs, up to the flat, were also, of the profoundest, impracticality. Mimi, had to walk up them, when in the throes of death, with the support, it is true, of Rodolfo, but, it did seem, with their rickety nature, it would be quite a challenge, to climb, even if one is not, already, chronically, fatally, short of breath. Yet, I cannot blame, Alfie Boe, for not, carrying Melody Moore, who sang Mimi, as it would not have been safe, for this talented young singer, to risk his very life, and Melody Moore’s, by attempting, to carry her.

The sets, for Acts Two and Three, were rather, more sensible, if, sadly, less inspired, than one would wish for. Act Three, allowed the singers, to be closer, to the audience, than the others, and this, was the most successful scene, with the moments, between Rodolfo and Marcello, heartbreaking, in their intensity. The conductor, Miguel Harth-Bedoya, caressed, sweetly, Puccini’s score, and I do not, in the slightest, fault him, for the many imperfectations, of this production.

The characterisation of Mimi, was, surely, the greatest of disappointments, in this performance. It could be, it’s true, that Melody Moore, is incapable, of projecting, her emotions, and has, so nonexistant, a talent, for drama, but, I choose, to place the blame, at the door, of the director, Jonathan Miller. Melody, sang beautifully, and smoothly, with no moments, for concern, but, as a person, a woman, Mimi, seemed cold, unloving, of Rodolfo, of anyone, other than herself. She seemed, of a scheming, perhaps even lying, character. I do, of course, know the story, of La boheme, as intimately, as I know, my own name, so I knew, Mimi would, tragically, perish. But, if I had not known, this most irrevocible, of endings, I would have wondered, if Mimi, who, in her first meeting with Rodolfo, walked up the steep stairs, to his flat, quite athleticly, was, perhaps, not entirely truthful, concerning her state, of health. She seemed, very self-possessed, in her dealings, with Rodolfo, when surely, when faced, with her own stupidity, of dropping her key, and Rodolfo’s attractiveness, she should have felt, just the smallest, of embarrassments, and uncertainties.

Alfie Boe, was excellent, as Rodolfo, although his voice, tired, slightly, towards the end, of the evening. This was, in fact, a surprise, as he has sung the role, on Broadway, and possibly did so, every night, as is the custom, with Broadway shows, unless, of course, he shared the role, with another tenor. But, possibly, the Broadway theatre, was smaller, than that, of the ENO, commonly extolled, as the largest, in the West End, although, the Royal Opera House, is, doubtless, larger still. Alfie, has made many, solo recordings, and sung, in many solo concerts, but, his abilities, are far superior, to many others, with his level, success, such, as Katherine Jenkins, whom I find, rather limited, in her talents, and Paul Potts, if, he is still remembered, who was excellent, only, as an amateur. Alfie, by contrast, is, an opera singer, of genuine, significance, with a gorgeous voice, and, impressive, acting ability, but, I do believe, there are very many, who have, in vocal terms, greater ability, and this must include, the two singers, who last sang this role, at the ENO, Peter Auty, and Dwayne Jones. But Alfie, truly, is far more handsome, than both, or at least, more, to my exquisite, tastes.

Roland Wood, as Marcello, was of a heavier vocality, than is often found, in this role. He sounded, rather, as though he was struggling, just slightly, with the style, and he sounded, in timbre, too similar, to Schaunard, and Colline, where a lighter baritone, in my experience, is more traditional. Pauls Putnis, sings, in accented English, but it does not, despite this, lack clarity, and I believe, the contrast, in their accents, is not unbelievable, for why, must they all, be English, or French, or Italian. Colline’s aria, of farewell, to his coat, was genuinely, movingly, lacrymose. David Stout, sang with great beauty, as Schaunard, and the awkwardness, of the character, in the final act, seemed not, due to cruelty, but, a quite natural reaction, to a tragic, unexpected, difficult, event, that evoked sympathy, in my very heart, perhaps, even more so, for Schaunard, than for Mimi, whom I disliked, intensely.

The opera, for much of its, rather short, duration, had little humour, which was a great disappointment, for although, this is a tragedy, Puccini invests, his characters, with lightness, and levity. Fortunately, the singers, in the roles, of Benoit and Alcindoro, Simon Butteriss and Richard Angas, are best-known, for their performances, in Gilbert and Sullivan. They make, only limited, and appearance, but offered so much, to their small roles, in their voices, and in their movements, they remain, as part, of my favourite memories, of this production, of La boheme.

Musetta, seems always, a character, with two personalities. The first, selfish, demanding, persona, appears in Act 2, and she seems not, vastly likeable, usually. Yet, with Hanan Alattar, there was an element, that was endearing, if, undeniably, worrying, and, perhaps, her shocking behaviour, was but an act, a means, of winning back, her Marcello. For Musetta, the reunion, seemed not, an act of triumph, but of true sincere, happiness. In the final act, I am not sure why, but I believed, in her shining good nature, and it seemed, not so very, out of character, as, in both acts, she showed, a deeply affectionate, heart.

One moment, of the final act, which was intriguing, and delighting, in its originality, was a private moment, between Marcello and Musetta, as she tells him, of the great trauma, of finding, the dying Mimi, and Musetta, seems unhappy, shocked, as I would, undeniably, feel, if I found someone, even one I disliked, in such a tragic, state. Marcello, was then uncomfortable, keenly, aware, of all their history, but he desired, so much, to comfort her. And then, at the end of the act, as Rodolfo lost his Mimi, Musetta was nestled, in Marcello’s bosoms. As one, affecting, love story, ends, so another, begins.

Violetta

primi-divi at hotmail.co.uk