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Mar. 10th, 2013 12:01 am
Conventionally bohemian
La Bohème is a stupid opera. Puccini has all the subtlety of Skrillex and throws in some numbers which serve no purpose except to provide work for choristers. Rodolfo is a tool and Mimì could give Midwestern housewives lessons in guilt-tripping men. It brings out the worst kind of opera crowd, one that applauds whenever the music stops, keeps chatting whenever it starts, and bombards the last act with sniffles.
Let's try that again.
Puccini knows how to write good tunes. His melodrama is undeniably effective if you simply give in and stop trying to fight it. There are at least two arias in Bohème which, if sung extremely well, are worth the price of admission. There's enough lighthearted comedy to leaven the heaps of treacly tragedy and as an antidote to the central romance, there's the on-again off-again hijinks of Marcello and Musetta--often in the same scene.
So was worth going tonight? Yes. Will I be able to distinguish this production of Bohème from the others I've seen at the Lyric? Probably not. We didn't have Davis, so the conducting was better than average--too loud in the first act or two, but someone obviously said something to Villaume and he dialed it back. Of course, Netrebko--the reason we agreed to do in the first place--rose above it without any trouble, but most of the rest of the cast wasn't strong enough.
Calleja, the hot Maltese tenor that everyone's spunking themselves over at the moment, was a real disappointment. I found it hard to say exactly what made him unpleasant to listen to until Nuphy point out that he wasn't following the conductor. Why should he? He obviously knows better how he should sing in any scene. You can see it from his profile in the programme: a head shot that oozes smugness, and an extended quote about how his relentless self-promotion will be the salvation of opera that I almost couldn't finish reading. On top of that, he sounded strained and weak--the closing phrase of "O soave fanciulla" was painful to the ears.
Something has happened to Elizabeth Futral's voice. Her profile talks around it, but the beautiful quality that has made her such a joy to listen for years is gone. Sad. Lucas Meacham was a bit soft, but as long as (a) the orchestra was kept in check and (b) he didn't have to match Netrebko, he sounded fine--and looked even finer. Joseph Lim impressed Nuphy much more with a smaller part, and Silvastrelli--well, I've already praised his talent, so his "Vecchia zimarra" was a highlight.
The production looked like pretty much every other production of Bohème you've ever seen (unless you live in Europe and you're used to seeing it staged on the deck of the Enterprise or during the Fall of Saigon or some other nonsense), but with some slick touches, like an exploding proscenium around the garret to hammer home the love duet (something I've seen done more effectively with a more effective love duet in Tristan und Isolde--but that's a road we're not going to go down). The blocking was decent within the confines of the libretto, with its typical 19th-century need for arbitrary chorus entrances and exits.
So there you have it. Nuphy was happy that he'd had a chance to hear Anna Netrebko sing live. Maybe that's something I'll be bragging about in twenty years' time, who knows? I'm glad of the places my imagination took me as I watched four fairly hunky men jostle against each other in a cozy one-bedroom under the eaves. And we're both glad that we were on our respective ways home shortly after ten p.m., particularly the night before Spring Forward.
Let's try that again.
Puccini knows how to write good tunes. His melodrama is undeniably effective if you simply give in and stop trying to fight it. There are at least two arias in Bohème which, if sung extremely well, are worth the price of admission. There's enough lighthearted comedy to leaven the heaps of treacly tragedy and as an antidote to the central romance, there's the on-again off-again hijinks of Marcello and Musetta--often in the same scene.
So was worth going tonight? Yes. Will I be able to distinguish this production of Bohème from the others I've seen at the Lyric? Probably not. We didn't have Davis, so the conducting was better than average--too loud in the first act or two, but someone obviously said something to Villaume and he dialed it back. Of course, Netrebko--the reason we agreed to do in the first place--rose above it without any trouble, but most of the rest of the cast wasn't strong enough.
Calleja, the hot Maltese tenor that everyone's spunking themselves over at the moment, was a real disappointment. I found it hard to say exactly what made him unpleasant to listen to until Nuphy point out that he wasn't following the conductor. Why should he? He obviously knows better how he should sing in any scene. You can see it from his profile in the programme: a head shot that oozes smugness, and an extended quote about how his relentless self-promotion will be the salvation of opera that I almost couldn't finish reading. On top of that, he sounded strained and weak--the closing phrase of "O soave fanciulla" was painful to the ears.
Something has happened to Elizabeth Futral's voice. Her profile talks around it, but the beautiful quality that has made her such a joy to listen for years is gone. Sad. Lucas Meacham was a bit soft, but as long as (a) the orchestra was kept in check and (b) he didn't have to match Netrebko, he sounded fine--and looked even finer. Joseph Lim impressed Nuphy much more with a smaller part, and Silvastrelli--well, I've already praised his talent, so his "Vecchia zimarra" was a highlight.
The production looked like pretty much every other production of Bohème you've ever seen (unless you live in Europe and you're used to seeing it staged on the deck of the Enterprise or during the Fall of Saigon or some other nonsense), but with some slick touches, like an exploding proscenium around the garret to hammer home the love duet (something I've seen done more effectively with a more effective love duet in Tristan und Isolde--but that's a road we're not going to go down). The blocking was decent within the confines of the libretto, with its typical 19th-century need for arbitrary chorus entrances and exits.
So there you have it. Nuphy was happy that he'd had a chance to hear Anna Netrebko sing live. Maybe that's something I'll be bragging about in twenty years' time, who knows? I'm glad of the places my imagination took me as I watched four fairly hunky men jostle against each other in a cozy one-bedroom under the eaves. And we're both glad that we were on our respective ways home shortly after ten p.m., particularly the night before Spring Forward.