by Chiara Spagnoli Gabardi

Giacomo Puccini’s opera is timeless, for the charming melodies and moving misadventures of the bohemian ensemble. The subject that the Italian composer brought to the stage is one that is able to speak to all generations through the years. La Bohème debuted in 1896 at the Teatro Regio in Turin on February 1st, under Arturo Toscanini’s lead, and in the course of time Franco Zeffirelli made it legendary with his mise en scène.

Teatro alla Scala newly proposed Zeffirelli’s version, under the supervision of director Marco Gandini, with the exquisite costumes by Piero Tosi and Marco Filibeck’s light design. The element that made this performance spellbinding was the outstanding orchestra guided by the baton of Gustavo Dudamel, who majestically conducted his musicians in a metamorphosis of pace, rhythm and intensity according to the narrative.

The story of a group of bohemians, who face hunger and cold with a smile on their lips, is a metaphor for youth, whose carefree happiness has not yet been extinguished by life’s trials. What never fails to conquer hearts, in La Bohème, is the empathetic clash between youth’s illusions, dreams and hopes and the hard realities of life. Nevertheless this specific representation takes time to achieve that sense of identification, which infallibly moves spectators.

The first act plunges us in the typical day of four young artists who live hand-to-mouth, dreaming of fame and fortune. But the actors seem to have trouble projecting their voice, since their singing seems surprisingly smothered by a stage setting (which has been used over and over again successfully), that doesn’t amplify their performance. Hence, the scene depicting the happy, precarious life of Rodolfo (Ramón Vargas), Marcello (Gabriele Viviani), Schaunard (Mattia Olivieri) and Benoît (Davide Pelissero) fails in the attempt to engage the audience. This effect is intensified during the beautiful love scene between Rodolfo and Mimì (Ailyn Pérez). Despite the couple appears to move robotically, without any of the required mushy romanticism, somehow the American soprano manages to convey part of the lyricism of the scene with her nightingale intonation.

The uphill opening finds room for improvement in the second act, which by default is joyful, animated, and crowded with performers. Lourdes Sánchez directs the choir so that it blends harmoniously with the orchestra and the lead performances. Thusly, the initial impasse gradually gets swept away, as the mood changes with the arrival of the impetuous and overbearing character of Musetta, sprightly played by crossover artist Angel Blue.

The third act doesn’t shine for exceptionality, nevertheless the drama of the two couples is interpreted in perfect pitch, according to Puccini’s disposition: the singing respects the inflections of spoken language. The opera expresses a musical prose, to such a degree that music matches the everyday life of ordinary characters, who are coping with their daily struggles and pains.

Finally the long coveted gushy sentimentalism, that one expects when attending La Bohème, is fulfilled in the fourth act. Tragedy makes its way when the forced jovial mood, of the four friends, is suddenly dampened by the appearance of Musetta and Mimì. Pathos leads to tragedy when Pérez breathes her final notes, as tuberculosis prevails on her frail ingénue character.

The crescendo that builds up throughout Gandini’s adaptation hangs on to the spirit of the opera’s drama. The exceptional orchestra conduction by Dudamel empowers the characters coming to life with initial bashfulness and final magnitude. The tale of bohemia, through this performance, welds carefree mundane living with nostalgia, perfectly in line with the mythical Zeffirelli representation of 1963 at La Scala.