La Boheme, Livermore Valley Opera, Oct. 7 2012

Yet another La Boheme? Why? Simple: Eugene Brancoveanu and Marie Plette. And more, as it turned out.

The curtain opened on the Bohemian’s garret, the first one that I have seen with beds for all four Bohemians, in the form of two iron-framed bunk beds, one left, one right. In the center was a very large window that provided a view of the snow-covered rooftops of Paris. In front of the window was a clothesline running from right to left, supporting (in addition to clothes) two frying pans and a number of sheets of paper—I guess Rodolfo’s ink must have been of the cheap, slow-drying variety. And on the far left, the stove that received Rodolfo’s play (although the flames weren’t particularly well-coordinated with the music).

Acts 2 and 3 were presented with just a “pause” between them, with projections displayed on a large surface against the back wall and two narrower but equally tall surfaces on each side. There were of course a few tables and chairs at the Cafe Momus; interestingly, when Musetta and Alcindoro were seated, their table was roped off on one side. The “pause,” which I was told was director’s choice, was inexpertly handled. It’s fun to watch the Metropolitan Opera scene changes, as they wheel around immense sets, but here the details of plugging in the streetlight and taping down its electrical line should have been done behind a curtain. Act 4 was back in the garrett. Were they really going to lead Mimi to one of the lower bunks? As it turned out, during the fight that immediately preceded Mimi’s entrance, one of the mattresses was removed and thrown to center stage, there to receive the body of one of the Bohemians (Schaunard?) who had been “injured” in the “duel.”

Our cast:
Mimi: Marie Plette
Rodolfo: David Gustafson
Marcello: Eugene Brancoveanu
Musetta: Kristin Clayton
Schaunard: Krassen Karagiozov
Colline: Philip Skinner
Conductor: Alexander Katsman
Director: Eugene Brancoveanu

This was, undisputedly, Eugene Brancoveanu’s show. His Marcello was so ably and powerfully sung that one might venture that the show should have been called Marcello. He was also the director, and he gave his character some extra, atypical, things to do. Keying off of his line “Which of you pretty ladies would care for a bit of love?” at the beginning of Act 2, two streetwalkers responded to his call. At the end of Act 3, he slugged the man that Musetta had been dancing with, and finished the act by walking offstage with one of the streetwalkers after slipping her a $5 bill. (No francs or euros to be had?)

Philip Skinner, the veteran of 375 performances at San Francisco Opera was also a highlight. It was too bad that he got to sing to his overcoat for only two minutes. It was a pleasure to see Krassen Karagiozov, former resident artist at Opera San Jose, again. All of the principals sang well enough; the minor characters, not so much. As is often the case with “regional” orchestras, the playing was a bit rocky to start with, but did manage to reach an even keel before too long. A beta.