CityLife

Opera North: La Boheme

Opera North: La Boheme
The Lowry
February 24, 2010

Phyllida Lloyd's 1993 production of La Bohème is brought back by Opera North this week – after quite a long absence.

It’s not to everyone’s taste, because it transports the story to the era of James Dean and Marilyn Monroe (although in the 1990s that was probably the very time most of the audience would fondly remember for their own youthful high jinks).

This time the greatest impression comes from the opulent sound of the score, played by the Opera North orchestra under music director Richard Farnes as beautifully as I think I’ve ever heard them play. In his conception of the music there seems to be a rose-tinted nostalgia that in some ways links with the time-shift of the staging.

But the raw physicality and animal enthusiasm that were also part of Lloyd’s interpretation have got rather lost. The cast sing with beauty and musicality, but it is hard to believe in them as real young people, and the shattering effect on their young lives of Mimi’s death does not slam home at the end as it did before.

Both Bülent Bezdü (Rodolfo) and Anne Sophie Duprels (Mimi) have glorious voices and are finely matched together (La Bohème is full of excerpts in the same way that Hamlet is full of quotations, and they nearly always get applauded). They are well supported by Frédéric Bourreau (Colline), Quirijn de Lang (Schaunard) and Marcin Bronikowski (Marcello).

However, only the latter seems able to act his role without slipping into that stooping, I’ve-got-stomach-cramps posture which is the default mode for too many opera singers when they feel emotion needs to be expressed.

Cleverly done

Sarah Fox, an excellent singer, is somewhat miscast as Musetta, but Steven Page makes a real success of both Benoit and Alcindoro. The Opera North chorus and children’s chorus give immense life to the crowd scenes. La Bohème is repeated on February 26. 

Steven Page – versatile man – is also a lynchpin of the new production of Gilbert & Sullivan’s Ruddigore. It’s repeated on February 27.

Director Jo Davies, with her team (including choreographer Kay Shepherd and illusionist Paul Kieve), has transported this send-up of Victorian melodrama into the early 20th century and the world of silent films (its natural successor). It’s cleverly done and very funny. Only the picture gallery scene is a little disappointing in design terms (though done with great zest by the chorus members concerned), but it’s a great pleasure to see G&S done with the resources of a big opera company.

There are a few nods towards Victoriana, too, including a staged ‘encore’ and a beautifully interpreted madrigal from the wedding congregation.

Amy Freston is as ideal a Rose Maybud (the lead soprano) as you’re ever likely to see. She can dance as well as sing – and Heather Shipp almost steals the show as Mad Margaret, a brilliant performance which needs a young singer more than most G&S mezzo roles. Anne-Marie Owens fills the more traditional slot as Dame Hannah with skill.

Grant Doyle (Robin Oakapple), Richard Burkhard (Sir Despard) and Richard Angas (Old Adam Goodheart) sang and camped up the characterization wonderfully, and Hal Cazalet was excellent as Dick Dauntless, the jack tar who turns out to be a bit of a cad (his voice just a little under par on Wednesday, but his acting top-notch).

Hearing the words is number one priority in any Gilbert & Sullivan, and John Wilson’s pacing as conductor (though the patter songs were as fast as any), with a lot of attention to diction, ensured that almost every line came over. Gillene Herbert, a fine soprano, shone as Zorah.