Opening night of Puccini’s _La Bohéme_ on September 14 at the LA Opera marked the official beginning of the season, and what a brilliant opening it was. Reminiscent of LA Opera director James Conlon’s relationship with _La Bohéme_, it being the first professional experience he received in the opera world, this was my first time seeing the famed opera. The Australian theater director Barrie Kosky took the helm of LA Opera’s production of _La Bohéme_, bringing it to new and exciting heights. As in any stage production, the scenery plays an important role in the performance, acting as important as a character. With this performance, Kosky and scenery designer Rufus Didwiszus brought forth a particularly intricate set of scene designs that worked well with the overarching storyline.
![Photograph by Cory Weaver](https://cdn.prod.website-files.com/62ee0bbe0c783a903ecc0ddb/6472b9e7c7a88e544f77dbfd_Saimir%2BPirgu%2Bas%2BRodolfo.jpeg)
Photograph by Cory Weaver
It is in the opening of the first Act that we begin to see the ways in which the set design, performers, and score will effectively portray the soul of the opera. When we are introduced to the bohemians in Act 1, it is at the meager garret that they share in 1837 Paris. The background of the stage shows a wallpaper of dirty windows, the kind of filth that shows a place that hasn’t been cleaned in months, if not years. Furthermore, behind two of these windows are shown pictures of two figures, one woman and one man, whose clothing and demeanor show them as members of the aristocracy. This image making up the entire back wall of Rodolfo, Marcello, Schaunard, and Colline’s garret showcases the profundity of these artists’ disposition. The image of these aristocratic figures is blurred by the dirt of their impoverished reality, symbolizing a dream that is seemingly unattainable. Here is already a representation of one of the central themes that are explored the opera, hope.
The set pieces cleverly utilize the themes of the opera as our bohemians try to figure out their place in the world. “The Red Sea” painting is the work of the painter in the group, Marcello, and is subsequently one of the options they consider when contemplating what to feed to the fire to keep them warm. Although they end up going with Rodolfo’s play, which brings about a humorous and tragic scene, it is the painting that stands as witness to it all by taking up a big portion of the room. Instead of a regular-sized painting, they have opted for making it into a tapestry that covers the wall, thus making it even more dramatic to suggest burning it. The bohemians are artists in their own right, and are trying to make a living off of their art. Poverty acts as a central character as it drives the bohemians to destroy their art, and the looming painting shows how much the sacrifice will cost them.
![Photograph by Cory Weaver](https://cdn.prod.website-files.com/62ee0bbe0c783a903ecc0ddb/6472b9e8c7a88e544f77dc07_Kihun%2BYoon%2Bas%2BMarcello.jpeg)
Photograph by Cory Weaver
Throughout this entire first scene, in the face of lost dreams and brutal realities, the bohemians show cheerful demeanors as they sing and dance to an equally cheerful musical number. Saimir Pirgu’s performance as Rodolfo is truly a wonder to behold, as he captivates both the audience and his ragtag group of bohemians with his crystal-clear tenor and emotional vocal inflections. Supporting his performance is Kihun Yoon, the baritone portraying Marcello, the painter. Yoon’s voice is at once deep and commanding, resonant and controlled in its use of intonation. Their duets throughout the opera showcase Puccini’s prowess at melding and offsetting these two distinct voices as they each support and uplift the other. In the first piece “Questo Mar Rosso,” as they sing of dying for lack of food and warmth, of destroying their hard work, the melodies are dramatic yet almost uplifting in their warm and major chord progressions. Rodolfo’s ascending melodic line expresses a passionate disposition, one that is looking ahead at something great, fantastic even. As the minimalist room boasts no other furnishings but a single chair—forcing the bohemians to sit on top of each other—the performers are left to their own prowess as they fill the room with their hopes and dreams.
Making her LA Opera debut, soprano Marina Costa-Jackson is a marvel as Mimi, the seamstress who plays a central role in the opera. When we meet her for the first time, she is bursting through the “door” from what is seemingly underground and into Rodolfo’s garret. The entryway into the garret is an opening in the floor of the stage, thus giving the impression of someone having to wade their way through the underground in order to enter their place. This choice positioning of the door makes Mimi’s entrance all the more dramatic, as if she is being unearthed from the depths of the Parisian proletariat. As Costa-Jackson sings the first few words of the famous aria “Si. Mi chiamano Mimi,” we are once more reminded of Puccini’s impeccable ability to deliver an abundance of depth and emotion with a beautiful aria. Costa-Jackson’s voice seems almost high and deep at once, displaying a timbre of sound that immediately entrances the audience. As she introduces herself, the melodic line reaches its apex with a stunning glissando before dropping on the second syllable of her name. As she is introducing herself, Costa-Jackson sits on the one chair in the garret in front of the plate camera, the painting tapestry makes up her background, and it is as if she is posing for a picture. The image is that of Rodolfo taking a picture of her life, a picture of the poor girl who dreams of spring, when she will witness the real beauty of the flowers she embroiders in her spare time. She is at once a portrait of hope, beauty, and sorrow, and the music inflects that with pristine melodic swells. Costa-Jackson shines spectacularly as she brings Mimi to life.
![Photograph by Cory Weaver](https://cdn.prod.website-files.com/62ee0bbe0c783a903ecc0ddb/6472b9e7c7a88e544f77dc00_Marina%2BCosta-Jackson%2Bas%2BMimi.jpeg)
Photograph by Cory Weaver
The scene which takes place in the Latin Quarter is truly a sight to behold, as its pristine background poster of Paris, as well as the opulence of the performers directly juxtaposes the sad squalor these bohemians presided in moments before. Within this scene comes perhaps the most famous aria from the opera, “Quando m’en vo,” the piece also known as “Musetta’s Waltz.” Soprano Erica Petrocelli plays Musetta, Marcello’s former lover who decides to win back his affections. Amongst the glitz and glamour of the Latin Quarter comes Musetta, who is a sight to behold in her opulent dress and confident demeanor. When she steps onto the actual podium that moments before bore a multitude of entertainers, everyone becomes still. Not only do the performers freeze in their places, but so does the music as the spotlight finds Petrocelli as she begins the aria. It is no small feat to belt out a piece such as this technical marvel that Puccini had composed, and Petrocelli does it with a finesse and projection that it is only left to us to marvel at the coloratura at work. She passionately soars towards the high notes as she desperately tries to remind Marcello of his feelings for her. As she reaches the end of the aria, Petrocelli performs an ascending melodic line with a seemingly effortless staccato, ending off with all the bravado and emotion her character can use to inspire love. The performance is incredible, not only for her impeccable technique, but also the emotional depth she fills each note with. It is no surprise that every movement and sound was brought to a standstill in anticipation for her performance. It is one that will stay with you for the rest of the night.
![Photograph by Cory Weaver](https://cdn.prod.website-files.com/62ee0bbe0c783a903ecc0ddb/6472b9e8c7a88e544f77dc1a_Erica%2BPetrocelli%2Bas%2BMusetta.jpeg)
Photograph by Cory Weaver
The final acts bring with them a sudden and swift change in tone, where we are now seeing a coldness on the stage. The backdrop of this act is a ceiling-to-floor tapestry that showcases a grey and white Parisian street, a backdrop which Marcello quite literally rips open in a drunken stupor as he stumbles outside. It is this scene in which we witness a distraught Mimi, wearing a long coat and looking worse for wear in the brutally cold outdoors. When she and Rodolfo are reunited here, it is not a scene full of joy and love, but rather one full of pain and despair. The former lovers appear on either side of the stage, their physical distance emphasizing the strains in their relationship. Costa-Jackson and Pirgu convey the sadness and fear that is latent in their interactions through the painfully sweet melodies, inspiring in the audience a need to see the couple reunited once more.
![Photograph by Cory Weaver](https://cdn.prod.website-files.com/62ee0bbe0c783a903ecc0ddb/6472b9e8c7a88e544f77dc04_Marina%2BCosta-Jackson%2Bas%2BMimi.jpeg)
Photograph by Cory Weaver
One of the highlights of the opera is the tragic ending, especially with the way it was staged. As Musetta and Colline sell their earrings and coat respectively in order to pay for a doctor for the dying Mimi, the spotlight remains on them whilst also showing the sick Mimi laying down. It is a scene that slowly strips away all the remaining external factors of the opera as we witness Mimi dying. When Mimi witnesses her friends’ grief, she sings “Pianger così perché?/ Qui, amor...sempre con te!” “Why do you weep? / Here love…with you always!” What is at the core of the opera is this notion of hope. What more can inspire hope than the realization that love is with them always? Here, Mimi is acting as a consoling figure, using her final words to inspire whatever hope remains in them so as not to be the cause of their hopelessness once and for all. As she dies, the rest of the cast disappears offstage, leaving Mimi and Rodolfo on the stage alone. Throughout the final few exchanges, the couple ended up in a typical husband-and-wife portrait position, with Mimi sitting on the chair and Rodolfo standing behind her, both posing for a final photograph. As we behold them in the end, Mimi is dead on that same chair, her head hanging down, as Rodolfo exclaims if this is real, if she is really dead.
The moment that cements this as one of the best _La Bohéme_ productions to date, is the image of Mimi, alone and dead on the chair, with a darkness on the stage except for the harsh, white spotlight on her stark, cold figure. This is the image that we are left with, the image that represents the hostile, inescapable truths of being poor. Conductor James Conlon and producer Barrie Kosky have managed an incredible feat with the realization of this opera, and have melded their prowess in adaptation successfully with Puccini’s beloved opera.
Don’t miss out on this stellar production!
Upcoming shows are on:
Sunday, [September 22 at 2pm](https://tickets.laopera.org/syos/performance/5063),
Wednesday, [September 25 at 7:30pm](https://tickets.laopera.org/syos/performance/5064),
Saturday, [September 28 at 7:30pm](https://tickets.laopera.org/syos/performance/5065),
Wednesday, [October 2 at 7:30pm](https://tickets.laopera.org/syos/performance/5066),
and Sunday, [October 6 at 2pm](https://tickets.laopera.org/syos/performance/5067).