La Bohème review

Spirited, sincere and unsentimental, James Conway’s production of La Bohème opened ETO’s spring tour and hit all the right notes. Florence de Maré and Neil Irish’s designs are an object lesson in how to make much of very little. A large plate of mirrored glass-cum-unfinished artwork, turns transparent and opaque, tilts to enclose the bohemians in their chilly garret. Swivelled and straightened, it’s the shopfront of Café Momus; later, it forms the hostile wall that literally keeps Mimì out in the cold. Rory Beaton’s lighting lifts the brooding ambience with flickers of optimism. The stars sparkle and the snow falls prettily.

The quartet of bohemians are distinctly defined but collectively form a convivial bunch, good-humouredly enduring the dirt and despair of grinding poverty. This is a troupe of true actor-singers. Michel de Souza is a big-hearted Marcello, generous of voice and gregarious of spirit, but his baritone has a strength and focus during his Act 3 exchanges with Mimì and Rodolfo that speaks of wisdom. Themba Mvula is an urbane Schaunard, while Trevor Eliot Bowes finds dignity in Colline’s Coat Aria. Matthew McKinney’s landlord Benoit is surprisingly youthful and dapper and he joins in the laddish larks with glee. As Musetta, April Koyejo-Audiger flounces with feisty hauteur – Phil Wilcox’s befuddled Alcindoro doesn’t stand a chance – but she brings vocal warmth to the tragic close.

Luciano Botelho is a reliable Rodolfo. His tenor is a bit pushed at the top and at the forte climaxes, but it’s an even-toned, appealing voice and engagingly genuine. Even when irrational jealousy makes him cruel, this Rodolfo remains a sympathetic figure and Botelho touchingly communicates his vulnerability and bewilderment in grief. Vocally, Francesca Chiejina outshines all. Her Mìmì has a calm core that is heightened by the boisterous bantering and an inner radiance that can’t be dimmed by sickness or sadness. Sì, mi chiamano Mimì brings a lovely softness into the artists’ attic, and Chiejina and Botelho sing O soave fanciulla with persuasive feeling.

Conway incorporates detail with deftness. Stage business is straightforward but neatly executed. Brenton Spiteri’s shrewd garçon keeps the Momus patrons’ glasses filled while the puppets of Robert Lewis’s Pa’Guignol wryly comment on the revellers’ antics, entertaining the hearty ETO chorus who are brightly complemented by the children of Hackney Children’s Choir. Despite the confines of the set, the stage never feels cluttered. In the pit, conductor Dionysis Grammenos draws animated, richly coloured playing from the 27-strong orchestra, providing plenty of Puccinian perfume and punch, but a welcome clarity and freshness too. 

In striving to create a production that ‘look[s] like a memory’ and does not fill in all the gaps, Conway has let the music paint vivid images that cohere into a beguiling and memorable whole.