It is a din - no, a cacophony of notes and strains and percussive reports that carry the concern for perfection out of the pit and into the house. If one heeds but a single instrument for several moments one knows there is no need for worry. They sound great. Abruptly, it ends, the lights in the room settle, and a spot etches out of the dark from above. Into the beam moves the conductor's large shaved head, glowing like the dawn, and literally lighting up the room behind him. By his magnificient glow I check my watch - it's show time. I stifled a snort under Nancy's own glare.

La Boheme is not a great story, but is a story told in ways too many to count and played out by too many companies to recall. It is a love story - it is a tragedy - it has comedy and pathos. It is, of course, street urchin opera. The kind that classically lands a young David Copperfield between a sweet Peggotty and a heinous Mr. Murdstone (whose very name is twice evil!). We are given someone to love, someone to despise, someone to cheer for, someone to cry for.

Mimi was played by a very talented young lady who could easily have been cast as lead in West Side Story. Her Rodolpho is a cherubic but powerful performer who emotes beautifully through both pathos and humor, and in the end brings a tissue to every hand in the audience. The balance of the cast is just that - well balanced. Each captured their part well, and vocally, each was excellent.

While the story is primarily focused on Mimi and Rodolpho, a subtext rolls though the presentation between Mussetta and Marcello - star struck lovers who were struggling to make their strained relationship survive flirtations and serial jealousy. Marcello was played by an extremely emotive actor who played his character in and out of the spotlight brilliantly. Mussetta was played by one of the finest small theater sopranos I have sat before in years which probably means I need to get out more. Mussetta is a hopeless tart who toys with Marcello's heart in every act - caught up in the misanthropic belief that by keeping the object of her interest in perpetual angst and doubt, she will own his heart forever. I think in the fifth act, if there were one, he buries her in a peat bog. She does end the forth act with unexpected kindness and so redeems herself to well deserved applause.

Two early points I made - this is intimate theater, meaning close, and there's that orchestra pit. The curtain came down with the cast forlorn and lamenting the passing of sweet Mimi, Rodolpho with his huge broken heart sobbing at her sleeve, and a crash of morbid sorrow issued from the orchestra pit as the last practiced notes closed the show. Applause then filled the room when the curtain rose to allow each cast member to parade to stage center for a bow. As the bowing cast members rose in rank toward the principles the applause grew thunderous.

Mimi, recently recumbent in the long sleep, took to center stage and suddenly roses, tulips, and whole bouquets of unknown pedigree flew through the air like lawn darts - arching over the orchestra pit and out of the stage lights. With such energy they were tossed they appeared with the suddenness of cruise missiles, littering the floor and startling sweet Mimi. Some were still wrapped in plastic or tied with wires, and represented quite some hitting power had they found their mark. By good fortune none struck our heroine and in good humor she gathered them up to the swelling pride and smiles of the archers in the audience. Note to self - others take heed. Unwrap the flowers, toss them singly so they land graciously at the feet of the performers and not in their chests.

I gave this one two thumbs up.

The Cast

The Venue

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