PERFORMANCE REVIEW: Giacomo Puccini — LA BOHÈME (R.M. Lamp, K. Yamamoto, S. Kim, K. Piper Brown, K. Godinez, D. Sedov, Y. Kissin, P. Suiandziga, E.J. Ramos Fuentes; Opera in Williamsburg, 7 September 2022)

GIACOMO PUCCINI (1858 – 1924): La bohème – Robyn Marie Lamp (Mimì), Kohei Yamamoto(Rodolfo), Suchan Kim (Marcello), Kearstin Piper Brown (Musetta), Kevin Godinez (Schaunard), Denis Sedov (Colline), Yuri Kissin (Benoît, Alcindoro), Pavel Suliandziga (Parpignol), Eliam J. Ramos Fuentes (Un sergente dei doganieri); Opera in Williamsburg Vocal Ensemble and Orchestra; Jorge Parodi, conductor [Eve Summer, stage director; Naama Zahavi-Ely, producer; Troy Martin-O’shia, lighting designer; Eric Lamp, costume designer; Opera in Williamsburg, Kimball Theatre, Williamsburg, Virginia, USA; Wednesday, 7 September 2022]

When the stories eventually collected and issued in a single volume as Scènes de la vie de bohème were first published in the literary periodical Le Corsaire in the latter half of the 1840s, their creator, Henri Murger, was not yet thirty years old but already more than halfway through a life that would span only thirty-nine years. Like the struggling artists and figures on the margins of society of whom he wrote, Murger was a citoyen of the oft-romanticized Parisian Quartier latin, where his observations of the hardships endured by his community inspired his poetry and prose. Despite the critical success of his work and his receipt of the Légion d’Honneur in 1859, financial security eluded Murger, whose early death in 1861 prefigured that of the heroine of the best-known operatic adaptation of his Scènes de la vie de bohème, Giacomo Puccini’s La bohème. Like Puccini’s consumptive Mimì, Murger fell victim to the cruel realities of life in Paris, her famous lights extinguished by poverty and disillusionment.

Premièred at Teatro Regio di Torino on 1 February 1896, Puccini’s setting of Giuseppe Giacosa’s and Luigi Illica’s treatment of Murger’s stories reached the stage fifteen months before Ruggero Leoncavallo’s La bohème—more faithful in some aspects to Scènes de la vie de bohème—was first performed in Venice. Puccini’s score quickly circumnavigated the operatic world, reaching the Metropolitan Opera in a 1900 performance in Los Angeles in which, in a bizarre coupling, the house’s first Mimì, Dame Nellie Melba, also sang the mad scene from Lucia di Lammermoor. From those beginnings, La bohème has become one of the most frequently-performed operas in the international repertory.

In the latter half of the Twentieth Century, public awareness of La bohème was increasingly shaped by large-scale productions like John Copley’s and Richard Jones’s stagings for London’s Royal Opera House and the world-famous 1981 Franco Zeffirelli MET production, still in the company’s repertory after four decades. Alongside such behemoth shows, Opera in Williamsburg’s production of La bohème in the 410-seat Kimball Theatre was framed by very different theatrical precepts, facilitating an uncommon degree of intimacy in a drama in which subtle sentiments are often obscured. Their artistic and intellectual pursuits notwithstanding, Puccini’s bohemians are simple people whose story captivates audiences because the emotions are abundantly familiar. In this Bohème, the interactions among the characters and the singers portraying them observed so closely, the opera’s tragedy was transfixingly personal.

As in all of Opera in Williamsburg’s recent productions (Pagliacci in June 2021, L’elisir d’amore in September 2021, and Così fan tutte in May 2022), the company’s founder and Artistic and General Director Naama Zahavi-Ely supervised a staging in which wonderfully imaginative use was made of the limited resources at the company’s disposal. Crucially, she staffs Opera in Williamsburg productions with personnel who share her great passion for opera—a quality that molded her work in La bohème. Director Eve Summer devised a staging that supplied the humor and tears expected in La bohème, ingenuously and movingly adapted to the venue’s spatial limitations.

Aided by Philip Lupo’s beautiful scenic projections and Troy Martin-O’shia’s intelligent lighting designs, Summer and Zahavi-Ely drew the audience into the opera’s most personal dimensions. Also appearing as the much-abused serveur at Café Momus in Act Two, costume designer Eric Lamp dressed the bohemians in modern attire that brought Joe Orton’s London to mind. Especially gratifying was the manner in which the production’s visual elements paralleled the performance’s musical progression. Every member of the cast seemed wholly at ease in this staging, moving and singing with comfort, and the opera’s journey from light-hearted playfulness to wrenching tragedy was therefore unusually natural.

Opera in Williamsburg’s productions routinely achieve with modesty what larger companies’ performances manufacture with opulence. This was particularly true of the orchestral component of this La bohème. Employing Jonathan Lyness’s reduction of Puccini’s orchestrations, Music Director Jorge Parodi conducted a performance in which myriad details that are often lost were fully audible. The fifteen musicians in the pit played splendidly throughout the evening, the ability to hear flautist Shannon Vandzura, clarinetist Shawn Buck, and bassoonist Matt Lano so clearly enabling appreciation of the current of bel canto that flows through Puccini’s score. Parodi shaped ensembles energetically, almost too much so in some scenes, but he also relaxed tempi in lyrical passages, encouraging the cast to sing phrases rather than individual notes. His baton technique laudably free of histrionics, Parodi conducted with discernible  comprehension of La bohème’s narrative structure, successfully conveying the depth and affection of Puccini’s musical portraiture to his colleagues and the audience.

Alle porte di Parigi: bass-baritone Eliam J. Ramos Fuentes as Il sergente dei doganieri in Opera in Williamsburg’s September 2022 production of Giacomo Puccini’s La bohème
[Photograph by Andrew Keefe, © by Gentle Grace Photography and Opera in Williamsburg]

One of the most welcome of this Bohème’s many virtues was the remarkable consistency of the casting, the voices heard in smaller rôles of quality equal to those of the principals. The stage’s dimensions not accommodating a chorus of the numbers customarily heard in performances of La bohème, the denizens of Paris were portrayed by a small ensemble of singers including sopranos Kinneret Ely, Stephanie Lupo, Heather Sreves, and Catherine Thorpe, whose vocalism in Act Two’s crowd scene was excitingly robust. As a vendor of treats in Act Two and the Sergente dei doganieri in Act Three, bass-baritone Eliam J. Ramos Fuentes sang strongly and charismatically, exuding first the jovial spirit of the Parisian Christmas Eve and then the weary guard’s ennui as his duties distracted him from reading his newspaper. Ever a source of enjoyment in Opera in Williamsburg productions, tenor Pavel Suliandziga voiced Parpignol’s music with security and charm that it too often lacks, the character here heightening rather than disrupting the scene’s sense of jubilation.

L’affitto è arretrato: (from left to right) bass Denis Sedov as Colline, tenor Kohei Yamamoto as Rodolfo, bass-baritone Yuri Kissin as Benoît, baritone Kevin Godinez as Schaunard, and baritone Suchan Kim as Marcello in Opera in Williamsburg’s September 2022 production of Giacomo Puccini’s La bohème
[Photograph by Andrew Keefe, © by Gentle Grace Photography and Opera in Williamsburg]

Whether depicted by one singer or divided between two singers, the rôles of the bohemians’ landlord Benoít and Alcindoro, the consigliere di stato besotted with Musetta, are too often woefully sung—or hardly sung at all. Williamsburg’s Benoît and Alcindoro, bass-baritone Yuri Kissin, was feeble of neither voice nor physique. In Act One, there was real danger in his perturbed utterance of the padrone’s ‘A lei ne vengo perchè il trimestre scorso mi promise,’ and the libidinous virility mocked by his tenants was weirdly credible. As Alcindoro, Kissin channelled Dominique Pinon in Diva mode, sparring indignantly with Musetta and glaring menacingly at a member of the audience who dared to laugh at his plight. Creating potent figures rather than the usual caricatures, Kissin voiced both rôles splendidly.

Il musicista ed il filosofo: baritone Kevin Godinez as Schaunard (left) and bass Denis Sedov as Colline (right) in Opera in Williamsburg’s September 2022 production of Giacomo Puccini’s La bohème
[Photograph by Andrew Keefe, © by Gentle Grace Photography and Opera in Williamsburg]

Few performances of La bohème are distinguished by a quartet of bohemian friends as uniformly excellent, vocally and dramatically, as Opera in Williamsburg’s casting yielded. Baritone Kevin Godinez characterized the musician Schaunard as a man of good humor and deep feelings, his singing of ‘La banca di Francia per voi si sbilancia’ in Act One exemplifying the jocundity of his portrayal. Perturbation rushed to the surface as it became apparent that the tale of the Englishman and the noisy parrot was being ignored, but this Schaunard was too kind to be truly angry. Godinez sang each of the character’s lines in Act Two with dramatic purpose, ensuring that Schaunard was always an individual and not merely a voice in the ensemble, but it was in Act Four that the baritone’s performance reached its pinnacle. Frolicking with the other bohemians before Mimì’s fateful entrance, this Schaunard was unprepared for tragedy. Godinez’s vocal acting in the opera’s final minutes was genuinely affecting: clearly not expecting Mimì to die, Schaunard was overwhelmed by palpable grief. Unfailingly engaging whenever he was on stage, he lent one of opera’s most familiar final scenes heartrending sincerity.

Bass Denis Sedov expanded his association with Opera in Williamsburg with a ruminative depiction of Colline. Contrasting the philosopher’s imposing intelligence with childlike innocence and suggestions of obsessive-compulsive inclinations. Colline’s music in Act One was voiced with irrepressible authority and animation, this man of learning gleefully taking part in his friends’ merrymaking. Sedov’s ‘Una fiammata!’ was aptly incendiary, and his low G on ‘Andiam!’ reverberated exhilaratingly. He, too, made much of his music in Act Two, Colline joining Schaunard in bemusedly observing their friends’ amorous adventures. The impish elation of Sedov’s singing in Act Four turned to remorse when the dying Mimì returned to the garret, his Colline seeming embarrassed by having sported whilst Mimì suffered alone. Regret and hopelessness resounded in his dulcet, subdued traversal of ‘Vecchia zimara.’ For a man of such physical and vocal might, his unassuming bashfulness as Colline withdrew into contemplation and self-recrimination was striking.

Una preghiera umile: soprano Kearstin Piper Brown as Musetta in Opera in Williamsburg’s September 2022 production of Giacomo Puccini’s La bohème
[Photograph by Andrew Keefe, © by Gentle Grace Photography and Opera in Williamsburg]

Even without the furs and jewels with which interpreters of the rôle are often adorned, soprano Kearstin Piper Brown’s Musetta illuminated the stage with elegance and vocal magneticism. Rightly commandeering the spotlight from her first appearance, she toyed with Alcindoro bewitchingly, as much for the benefit of her on-stage audience as for her own amusement. The top Bs evincing Musetta’s desire for total liberation from patriarchal mores, the soprano sang ‘Quando me’n vo’ soletta’ with indomitable éclat. The row with the jealous Marcello in Act Three drew sounds of brash insouciance from this Musetta, but these gave way in Act Four to tones of sublime delicacy.

First declaiming ‘C’è Mimì che mi segue a che sta male’ dolefully, the compassionate lie to Mimì about the muff being a gift from Rodolfo was delivered with gentle tenderness. Piper Brown’s voicing of Musetta’s prayer, ‘Madonna benedetta,’ punctuated by an unusually urgent and unmistakably symbolic request for a screen to shield the flickering candle at Mimì’s bedside, was gorgeously plaintive. Casting her pride aside, Piper Brown’s Musetta silently receded into the background to mourn Mimì, shattered despite having realized that her friend was dying. The relative brevity of the part notwithstanding, Musetta is one of Italian opera’s most iconic rôles, one sometimes diminished by clichés, but, singing sparklingly and acting unaffectedly, Piper Brown made Musetta far more nuanced than a typical operatic seconda donna.

Sul lido del Mar Rosso: baritone Suchan Kim as Marcello in Opera in Williamsburg’s September 2022 production of Giacomo Puccini’s La bohème
[Photograph by Andrew Keefe, © by Gentle Grace Photography and Opera in Williamsburg]

Heard to advantage in all of Opera in Williamsburg’s recent productions, baritone Suchan Kim again earned the audience’s adulation with a thoughtful, marvelously-sung portrayal of Marcello. Hilariously clad in a Snuggie® at the start of Act One, he sang ‘Questo Mar Rosso mi ammollisce’ with a voice that conveyed the frigidity of the unheated garret but simmered with youthful vigor. All of Marcello’s exchanges with his fellow bohemians were voiced with crisp tone and clear diction, Kim demonstrating the innate goodness of the artist’s constitution. In Act Two, ‘Io pur mi sento in vena di gridar’ was pointedly enunciated, and ‘Gioventù mia, to non sei morta’ in the celebrated ensemble brimmed with renewed gusto, Marcello accepting his inability to suppress his attraction to Musetta.

Marcello’s discovery of Mimì outside of the tavern at the beginning of Act Three was the turning point in Kim’s performance. The hearty cheerfulness of the first two acts was replaced by burgeoning concern, the baritone’s singing of ‘È ver, siam qui da un mese’ darkened by doubt, and a sharper edge of exasperation was apparent in the quarreling with Musetta. The pensiveness of Kim’s voicing of ‘Io non so come sia che il mio pennello lavori’ in the Act Four duet with Rodolfo disclosed the young man’s desolation, and an all-too-human guilt shrouded his realization that his reunion with Musetta came at the cost of Mimì’s decline. Apart from a single effortful top F♯ in the duet with Rodolfo, Kim sang Marcello’s music with ease and panache, freeing him to give the earnest painter a soul as captivating as his voice.

Amici nel dolore: tenor Kohei Yamamoto as Rodolfo (left) and baritone Suchan Kim as Marcello in Opera in Williamsburg’s September 2022 production of Giacomo Puccini’s La bohème
[Photograph by Andrew Keefe, © by Gentle Grace Photography and Opera in Williamsburg]

Making his USA début in this performance, Japanese tenor Kohei Yamamoto sang Rodolfo with unwavering commitment to the drama, his voice assuming countless colors as the opera progressed. ‘Nei cieli bigi guardo fumar dai mille comignoli Parigi’ in Act One was sung with bravado, the top As assured, and, following the cavorting with the bohemians and Benoît, an air of seriousness arose in ‘Io resto per terminar l’articolo.’ Yamamoto’s exclamation of ‘Una donna!’ upon hearing Mimì’s voice was filled with wonder, and he imbued the lovers’ first meeting with shy flirtatiousness. Singing ‘Che gelida manina’ in Puccini’s preferred key, D♭ major, he valiantly attempted the interpolated top C expected by audiences but focused not on this one tone but on producing phrasing worthy of a poet. His voicing of ‘O soave fanciulla,’ resolved in accordance with the composer’s wishes with a major triad on E instead of another unwritten top C, radiated new love. This sentiment also suffused the tenor’s singing in Act Two, but the rapture was tarnished by Rodolfo’s domineering admonishments. Nevertheless, Yamamoto sang ‘Questa è Mimì’ and ‘Sappi per tuo governo’ attractively, the voice gleaming with romantic zeal.

Rodolfo faces daunting challenges in Act Three, and Yamamoto conquered them unflinchingly. His ‘Marcello, finalmente!’ glistened with the ebullience heard in Act One, but ‘Già un’ altra volta credetti morte il mio cor’ initiated a metamorphosis to despair. The feigned bitterness of ‘Mimì è una civetta’ evolved into the desperation and shame that emerged in ‘Mimì è tanto malata!’ and the subsequent scene with Mumì, in which the words were articulated with heightened immediacy. Tenor and baritone allying their voices beguilingly, Rodolfo’s duet with Marcello in Act Four was a zenith of the performance. Yamamoto voiced ‘O Mimì, tu più non torni’ despondently but hopefully, fashioning an illusion of happiness that was destroyed by Mimì’s death. Yamamoto’s singing in the final scene was unapologetically harrowing, but he avoided morose distortions. Occasional forcing in the singer’s upper register reminded the listener of how demanding a rôle Rodolfo is, but Yamamoto’s performance also affirmed how memorable a good Rodolfo can be.

Sì, mi chiamano Mimì: soprano Robyn Marie Lamp as Mimì in Opera in Williamsburg’s September production of Giacomo Puccini’s La bohème
[Photograph by Andrew Keefe, © by Gentle Grace Photography and Opera in Williamsburg]

The heart of Opera in Williamsburg’s Bohème was the sensitive but strong-willed Mimì of soprano Robyn Marie Lamp. The opera’s sound world changes when Mimì’s voice is first heard from outside of the bohemians’ quarters in Act One, but Lamp also altered the psychological trajectory of the drama, her Mimì garnering affection and empathy without overtly seeking them. Encountering Rodolfo for the first time, the demure awkwardness of ‘Scusi...Di grazia, mi s’è spento il lume’ and her timid but capricious search for the missing—actually hidden—key defined her as a sweet but spirited young woman. Lamp sang the aria ‘Sì, mi chiamano Mimì’ radiantly, the beauty of her performance compromised only by pushed top As. Ecstatically joining Rodolfo in duet, she voiced ‘Ah! tu sol comandi, amor!’ artfully, departing for the Momus with a slightly rebellious top C.

As Mimì’s confidence and comfort in the company of the bohemians increased in Act Two, Lamp’s vocalism manifested new facets of her characterization. It was the reticent Mumì of Act One who sang ‘Una cuffietta a pizzi tutta rosa,’ but a new woman materialized in her admiration of Musetta and the ethos she espoused. That woman, still meek but asserting her independence, returned in Act Three, her breathless ‘Sa dirmi, scusi’ divulging the precariousness of her physical state. ‘O! buon Marcello, aiuto!’ surged from Lamp’s lungs and Mimì’s heart, the pair of top B♭s expressing her agony. Mimì overhearing Rodolfo’s assessment of his love’s deteriorating health, she sang ‘Donde lieta uscì al tuo grido d’amore’ with poignant simplicity, her phrasing of ‘Addio, senza rancor’ recalling the exalted tradition of Lucrezia Bori and Licia Albanese.

From the moment of her arrival in the humble garret in Act Four, the brevity of Mimì’s survival was obvious, but Lamp recaptured the optimism and vocal lightness of Act One even as Mimì took her last breath. The love that swelled in her serene voicing of ‘Buon giorno, Marcello, Schaunard, Colline’ and the defiant anticipation in her tranquil ‘Sono andati?’ were immensely moving. Doing big things in small ways is the hallmark of Opera in Williamsburg’s endeavors, and Lamp’s Mimì personified this Bohème’s aesthetics. The effectiveness of a staging of any opera depends not upon grand spaces but upon grand voices, and Opera in Williamsburg’s La bohème had them.