A Parisian market stall with objets d’art from the 1920s connects present with the past. Browsers can touch an artefact which may have belonged to a character from “the Lost Generation”, the collection of writers and artists drawn to the excitement and artistic promise of Paris as it recovered from the Great War. Director Renaud Doucet and designer André Barbe took the largest flea market in Paris, the Marché aux puces de Saint-Ouen as the inspiration for their production of La bohème for Scottish Opera, the curtain rising on modern-day Parisian street scene with a busking singer and accordion player entertaining the moving throng with French chansons. A clearly unwell lady tries out a record on a phonograph: it’s the prelude to La bohème and, as the orchestra seamlessly takes over, we are suddenly in the Roaring Twenties and in the freezing artists’ garret. It’s a nifty bit of time travel in this powerful, vibrant and colourful jazz-age production packed with joie de vivre.
There is the tragedy at the heart of Henri Murger’s romantic tale, but more than other productions, Doucet and Barbe teased out the humanity and humour with witty vignettes, and tight direction. In the pit, the large orchestra was on stupendous form playing their hearts out under Scottish Opera’s musical director Stuart Stratford, from the big moments in this vibrant gorgeous score down to the tiniest of detail in place, like the droplets of water Rodolfo sprinkles to revive Mimì. It really felt like hearing this well-known score anew. Stratford’s tempos were brisk, moving the action along to maintain the momentum but also very supportive of the singers, allowing plenty of creative space and generally achieving a good balance with the voices.
Hye-Youn Lee, her lovely rich timbre cutting across the orchestra, was a terrific Mimì, painfully fragile but with a noble inner strength. Act 3 at the Barrière d’Enfer can sometimes flag, but Lee’s performance as she and Marcello, and then Rodolfo, get to the home truths was as enthralling as it was heartbreaking. Luis Gomes’ lighter tenor as Rodolfo worked well, as romantic as you could wish as he and Mimì search for her key in Act 1, but even in Café Momus the relationship did not look secure, an interesting slant explaining the drift of the lovers later on. David Stout, as an especially pivotal Marcello, was in magnificent voice, and Damian Pass’ Colline and Božidar Smiljanić’s rather serious Schaunard were playful in the garret, larger than life in Momus.