April 02, 2008 |
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"THEY CALL me Mimi. I don't know why."
These are eight of the most famous words in opera, Act I of "La Boheme."
This Puccini classic has been around for quite a while, having debuted in Turin, Italy in 1896. Its music and tragic tale of starving artists and consumptive ingenues has inspired everything from the Della Reese pop hit, "Don't You Know," to Broadway's now-fabled "Rent." Baz Luhrmann also updated Puccini to great effect in 2003. And who can forget Cher in the movie "Moonstruck," exiting a performance of this opera, saying, "She died! I mean, I knew she was sick, but . she died!"
But no "La Boheme" has been more beloved and honored than the production designed by Franco Zeffirelli for the 1981 Metropolitan Opera season; a staple ever since. (All in all, Zeffirelli's "La Boheme" has played the Met a record 347 times!) On Saturday night, Franco - a lustrous name in cinema, as well - was honored with the installation of two plaques, one on each side of the great Met stage, celebrating his contributions to opera - he has created 12 brilliant productions, beginning with "Falstaff" in 1964.
Franco stepped up to acknowledge his award at the end of "La Boheme's" Act II, emerging onstage from a mass of people assembled for the unparalleled Cafe Momus/marketplace set. His appearance provoked a near-hysterical reaction from the audience. Most in attendance knew that he was being honored, but the drama was, well, very operatic! (So, OK, forget the "near" - they were hysterical.)
Franco was overwhelmed. He said, "I will spare you an emotional director!" He did speak, briefly, praising all in the current production, and then ended with, "I am speechless!" But as he turned to leave the stage, he stopped, and faced the audience again. "I want to pay tribute to the technical expertise of the Met, what they do."
We have to pay tribute as well! In a 48-hour period, the Met put on three massive productions - Wagner's "Tristan and Isolde" on Friday, a Saturday matinee of Verdi's "Ernani" and then "Boheme." And, remember, when you go to the Met, you are hearing real singers sing. No mikes. It is theater like it used to be. No tricks, only talent.
OF THE current production, I can only rave. It is exquisite. "La Boheme's" libretto is somewhat wittier than many operas, but - it is an opera. This means the protagonists fall in love within seconds, part and then reconcile with no coherent rhyme or reason. Opera requires a firm, hugely romantic, suspension of disbelief. Everything sensible demands a rejection of Act III, but Puccini's music and the staging - snow forlornly carpeting the lovers' despair - sweeps away all good sense.
Ramon Vargas, as the tormented poet Rodolfo, and Angela Gheorghiu, the ominously fragile Mimi are splendid. The other lovers, Ludovic Tezier as Marcello and Ainhoa Arteta as Musetta are equally impressive. Mimi is, of course, one of opera's most coveted roles. But Musetta comes close to stealing "La Boheme." Her ode to her own allure, "Quando me'n vo" not only stops the show, but is a healthy antidote to all the pure sentiments expressed by the leads. She wears a red dress; she's out to have a good time. (If Musetta had a cell phone, Eliot Spitzer would have her number. She'd be on his speed dial!)
Franco Zeffirelli's "La Boheme" plays the Met until April 15. If possible, don't miss it. You'll weep as Mimi slips away, but the art of fine dying will leave you curiously uplifted.
As the bravos finally subsided Saturday night, one opera maven turned to another and said, "Do you think they'll ever replace this production?"
Came the response: "Well, as long as they don't mind a riot spilling all over Lincoln Center, I guess they could."
I think Franco's vision of Puccini is safe for some time to come.
WELL, the British coroner leading the inquest into the 1997 death of Princess Diana, her boyfriend Dodi al Fayed and their driver Henri Paul, says he "sees no evidence of a plot."
Lord Justice Scott Baker gave the jurors three options - Diana and company died as a result of an accident, gross negligence of the driver (the drunken Henri Paul), or because the paparazzi were chasing the car. There was no option in which the royal family of Windsor sought to have Diana and Dodi done away with. Well, I never thought much of that conspiracy theory, but I may be alone out here in reality-land. Certainly the still-grieving father of Dodi, Mohammed al Fayed, is not satisfied.
For all the millions who still believe Oswald was not the only shooter, that the Kennedys or the Mafia (or the FBI) murdered Marilyn, Diana's terrible end in that Paris tunnel is just one more "mystery" to be forever enlarged and twisted to suit the doubters.
The princess joins Cleopatra, Marie Antoinette, Anne Boleyn, Mary Queen of Scots and Miss Monroe as one of history's great tales of beauty, popularity and power gone awry. Notice I didn't say "tragic." No matter their respective ends, these were all empowered women who accomplished much of what they wanted to in their lives.
I bet if we could reach them in some afterlife of the glamorous and the dead, each would have plenty to bitch about, but I bet none would claim a tragic life.
(E-mail Liz Smith at MES3838@aol.com, or write to her c/o Tribune Media Services, 2225 Kenmore Ave., Suite 114, Buffalo, NY 14207.)
©2008 TRIBUNE MEDIA SERVICES, INC.
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