Wie eiskalt ist dein Händchen.....

There's a reason La Boheme seems to be the most beloved of all operas. There's a reason singers will do anything to sing these beautiful roles and audiences will pay top dollar to see a good production.  There's also a reason that, although I lived in New York for over 25 years, I refused to ever see Rent, a 1980s retelling of the La Boheme story as a new musical.

The four Bohemians
Photo:  Iko Freese, drama-berlin.de

We hear a lot about "concept" opera, seemingly arbitrary or senseless retelling or reframing of opera stories for novelty or shock value. I don't get it. I don't need to see Marriage of Figaro on a tennis court or a post-apocalyptic Die Walküre under a freeway on-ramp. I certainly don't need to see another literal embodiment of the idea that we are all born naked and alone and die naked and alone. And don't get me started on penguins! I haven't seen many instances where the supposed intent of clarifying social roles and power structures was achieved, but I won't say there have been none. The Glimmerglass Festival's updated Ariadne in Naxos of 2015 is an example that worked. Examples abound where the updating didn't get in the way of the story telling too much, and the costumes (for some reason usually 1960s Jackie Kennedy styles) were fun. In some cases the updating was confusing and distracting, and substantially diminished enjoyment of an otherwise fine performance.

I won't say that is the case in the Komische Oper Berlin production of La Boheme that is currently viewable at operavision.eu (until July 26, 2019), but I was confused. The original story is from mid-19th century, but the opera was first performed in 1896. I never really had a clear picture what era was being portrayed in this production. There were some clever ideas, such as the landlord in Act I never appearing but being impersonated/mocked by the four Bohemians as they prepare to go out into the Paris evening and make mischief. I also liked the idea of never seeing the parade in Act II, but seeing the crowd react to it. And seeing a much earthier crowd than one has seen before--really, it's not a Victorian drawing room comedy! The most distracting addition, however, was the camera setup Marcello had--while it's true this equipment did exist in the 1860s, it is highly unlikely a poor painter living in a shabby attic would have it. And the idea of taking photos for posterity distracted from the action. (Fortunately there were no POOF moments of flash and smoke.) Other distractions include some unfortunate costuming choices--did they really intend Mimi's Act I dress to remind one of a prison uniform with its horizontal stripes?--and inferior subtitles.

Musetta captivates all in Act II

Having gotten all of that out of my system, let me now rave about the singing, which was all quite good. The primary couple of Rodolfo and Mimi were beautifully sung by Jonathan Tetelman and Nadia Mchantaf, both of whom were new to me. I hope I hear more of these appealing young singers in the future! Ms Mchantaf is a highly skilled singing actress, and one didn't care about the distracting production elements when she was singing. If I'm sobbing at the curtain call because Mimi isn't dead after all, I call it a success, and this is what happened. Mr. Telelman is a handsome fellow and also a highly skilled singing actor. He gave Rodolfo a good combination of youthful immaturity and sadness. I was disappointed the director didn't have him touch Mimi when he realizes she has died.

As Marcello, Günther Papendell sounded nervous at first but became much more at ease with the vocal demands of the role as he threw himself into the character. Vera-Lotte Böcker was an appealing Musetta, growing from the impetuous, self absorbed girl of Act II to the more mature woman of Act IV. The Schaunard of Dániel Foki was fun, and the Colline of Philip Meierhöfer was appropriately somber. Conductor Jordan de Souza was quite good. We don't often think about how difficult this score actually is, but Mr. de Souza and the orchestra of the Komische Oper Berlin never made it sound so.

Truly, my biggest gripes were with production values--Director Barrie Kosky, Set Designer Rufus Didwiszus, and Costume Designer Victoria Behr seemed to be operating on a concept I never really understood.  Lighting Designer Alessandro Carletti had the set so dark, it's been difficult to find pictures online to steal include with this post.

I realize this review sounds negative overall, but I do recommend viewing this production while it is still available. The singing and the story win out over all the distractions.