Above: this afternoon’s Rodolfo, tenor Adam Smith
~ Author: Oberon
Saturday April 11th, 2026 matinee – I’ve been hearing BOHEME frequently at The Met in recent seasons. The older I get the more moving I find this opera (and MADAMA BUTTERFLY, too) in its tale of love and loss. On a scale of one to ten in the heartbreak department, this afternoon’s performance scored an eleven. The singing, always engaging, was thwarted – as it is in so many Met presentations these days – by volume from the pit that even the most powerful voices in the cast could not withstand. The conductor, making his Met debut, seems not to have had time to gauge the balance of acoustics in this big barn of a theatre. As always, during the endless intervals, people stopped by to chat with me at my score desk; they all felt that the voices were too often covered by the orchestral volume.
The House was well-packed, and, as is the case so often these days, arias and duets were greeted with a few seconds of applause while – during the bows – the singers were vociferously cheered.
The men in the cast were all winners. Adam Smith was an ardent Rodolfo, able to crest the orchestra (most of the time) with his big-lyric voice. He made wonderful use of his dynamic range, often honing down phrases with persuasive diminuendos. He harmonized the offstage ending of the love duet, though his Mimi could not sustain the phrase. Mr. Smith made Rodolfo’s despair in Act III palpable as he sang of Mimi’s fragile health. His attention to detail illuminated certain moments that most tenors throw away: his sly “Colline…sei morto?” after the philosopher had fallen down the stairs in Act I was one of many little gems. Then there was his powerful top-B at the climax of the “waltz-reprise” in Act II. Bravo!
I’d heard Davide Luciano’s Marcello and Sharpless before, and was keen to hear his mellifluous voice again. His timbre has a luxuriant glow, tinged with traces of darkness…thoroughly engrossing to hear at every moment. In the duet with Angel Blue’s Mimi in Act III, the singers poured out phrases of engrossing beauty and power, pulling back touchingly when the words called for more intimacy. This duet, and the Act IV blending of the voices of Messrs. Smith and Luciano in their brotherly musings, were highlights of the afternoon.
Edward Parks was an engaging Schaunard; in recent years I have come to appreciate this role and its importance both musically and in the narrative. Mr. Parks made a fine vocal impression.
The potent voice of Greek basso Alexandros Stavrakokis brought forth some of the afternoon’s most compelling singing. The singer’s every utterance had real impact, and his rendering of the Coat Aria was one of the most moving I have ever experienced.: a genuine basso profundo to be sure. I wanted so much to meet him at the stage door, but he somehow managed to slip by me. Next season, for sure…
In her Met debut, soprano Amina Edris scored a success with her Musetta. The soprano down-played the disruptive shrieks that some sopranos employ to get attention from the crowd at Cafe Momus. When things settled, Ms. Edris sang the Waltz with subtle seductiveness, capping it off with a striking, piano top B…very enticing. As Act III opened, the soprano dreamily repeated the theme of her famous waltz.
In the opera’s final moments, Musetta and Marcello are drawn together as he finally understands her complicated but ultimately compassionate nature. Ms. Edris made something lovely out of her little prayer for her friend Mimi; the debuting soprano was warmly cheered as she took her solo bow.
Angel Blue’s Mimi had a spinto glow that worked wonders when dealing with sonic onslaughts from the pit. In Mimi’s Act I narrative, Ms. Blue’s lovely tone, and thoughtful way with words made the character come vividly to life. So charming as she described Mimi’s simple life, the soprano made magic as she phrased seamlessly into the magical phrase: “Ma, quando vien lo sgelo...”: so deeply moving. The orchestra developed off-putting walls of sound as the singers voiced the ecstatic start of the love duet, but Ms. Blue again took command with “Tu sol commandi, amore!” (one of the libretto’s best lines) and again with her touching “Vi starò vicina…“. The soprano faltered a bit on the duet’s climactic, offstage note.
As the afternoon progressed, Ms. Blue sang sumptuously; as mentioned earlier, her duet with Mr. Luciano in Act III was outstanding, and the ensuing trio where Marcello and Rodolfo discuss Mimi’s health whilst she, eavesdropping, grasps her own fate, was marvelous in every line and detail. Taking me by surprise was the soprano’s digging into chest voice for “Ch’ei non mi vedi!”, revealing her desperation…I don’t recall ever having heard it done that way. Ms. Blue’s “Donde lieta usci” was so expressive, accompanied by the tonal polish of harp, flute, clarinet, and violin. Mimi and Rodolfo’s duet of regret over past arguments provided both singers with memorable moments: Ms. Blue with “Sempre tua per la vita…” and Mr. Smith with his tender”..stagion dei fiori…”
In the final act, Ms. Blue’s “Sono andati…” was so moving, as was the heartache of Mr. Smith’s Rodolfo watching his beloved’s life slip away. Ms. Blue’s faltering lines as she sank into her final sleep were infinitely touching.
~ Oberon
Oberon's Glade 