REVIEW: La Bohème - Opera Queensland, Brisbane Festival

4 – 13 September

QPAC Lyric Theatre

Presented by Brisbane Festival and Opera Queensland in association with QPAC

Brisbane Festival has sprung to life with the first blush of spring, but inside QPAC’s Lyric Theatre it is very much winter. Delicate flakes of snow drift across the stage, dusting a frosted glasshouse where shadowy silhouettes of our bohemians flicker in candlelight. As the audience settles into their seats, children and townsfolk bustle past, their laughter sparkling with Christmas Eve spirit. In this moment, Brisbane has vanished and everyone ready to be swept into another world. It’s as if 1920s Paris itself has been bottled and set to shimmer in front of us.

Opera Queensland’s new co-production with West Australian Opera proves the story is just as poignant as ever with Matt Reuben James Ward directing and Umberto Clerici leading the orchestra. For more than a century, Puccini’s La bohème has held audiences spellbound, and it’s no wonder. It has everything: passionate romance, cheeky comedy, and gut-punching tragedy, and music so beautiful it could thaw even the iciest Brisbane winter night, all wrapped up in themes of love, youth, friendship, and fragility that still feel achingly familiar today.

The set, designed by Charles Davis, spins on a revolving stage, transforming from the bohemians’ shabby residence to the bustling Christmas markets to a glowing café. There’s even a crackling fireplace, complete with smoke and flame effects, where poet Rodolfo (Valerio Borgioni) burns his manuscripts for warmth while his friends banter, dream, and tease each other. Whether Samuel Dundas (Marcello), Jeremy Kleeman (Schaunard), and Luke Stoker (Colline) are squabbling like brothers, lamenting love, or finding levity in poverty, their chemistry anchors the opera’s more playful scenes.

It’s in this glasshouse that Mimì (Elena Perroni) arrives, feigning the need to light her lamp on a moonless night. Her not-so-chance encounter with Rodolfo blooms into one of opera’s most iconic romances. “In my happy poverty, I feast on love songs like I’m a prince” — Borgioni’s aria is breathtaking, his tone as rich and golden as the firelight, while Perroni’s soaring high notes tingle in my ears and bounce around every curve of the Lyric Theatre. Together, their voices fuse in a duet that feels both inevitable and intoxicating.

The Queensland Symphony Orchestra under Clerici’s baton delivers a lush, perfectly balanced soundscape. There are no microphones here of course; just raw, unamplified human voices soaring over Puccini’s score. Even for first-time opera-goers, surtitles in English ensure nothing is lost in the Italian lyrics (except perhaps in those delightfully chaotic group overlaps).

Act 2 bursts open with Christmas Eve at the markets: a riot of colour and community. The Opera Queensland Chorus and Children’s Chorus fill the stage, alongside elegantly dressed ladies, vendors, and even Santa. The café scene glows with life as Rodolfo and his friends dine with Mimì, setting up some excellent hijinks that remind us these are young adults, still brimming with energy and mischief despite their circumstances.

Enter Musetta (Nina Korbe), who immediately steals the spotlight. Sassy, stylish, and utterly self-assured, her number is the Italian forebear to Rent’s “Take Me or Leave Me,” and it is fabulous. She toys with men, dazzles her ex Marcello, and parades about in costumes so divine I want to applaud the wardrobe department separately. Korbe and Dundas share a chemistry that crackles with passion, their fiery dynamic a thrilling counterpoint to the tender tether of Rodolfo and Mimì.

By Act 3, we’re treated to one of the most powerful moments of the opera: a double duet as one couple splits in anger, the other in sorrow, while the revolving stage shifts our perspective like a cinematic lens. It’s stunning storytelling by director Matt Reuben James Ward, layered with vocal brilliance and underscored by the relentless fall of snow. And yet, even amidst poverty, illness, and heartbreak, there are flashes of joy. The bohemians muck about in the snow, playing pretend at a banquet, laughing at their own misfortune… la vie bohème indeed. It’s these moments of their resilience that make our trials and tribulations of today seem small.

By Act 4, the tone shifts. Even knowing the ending (and most of us do), Mimì’s illness still cuts like glass. Perroni’s portrayal is devastatingly tender and fragile, yet vocally radiant even as she lies prone onstage. It feels almost cruel, how unfair life can be to the most gentle and kind. As Rodolfo crumples, I sat in stunned silence, grieving alongside him.

This La bohème is set in 1920s Paris rather than the original 1830s, which gives us glorious costuming, flapper glamour, and period detail without losing the timelessness of the story. Christine Felmingham’s lighting design wraps it all in warmth and shadow, while hair and makeup evoke the glamour of the Jazz Age. And while the opera itself is over a century old, its themes remain relevant: love and loss, youth and poverty, joy and despair, the brief sparkle of life itself.

Opera Queensland’s La bohème is both a triumph for seasoned opera lovers and an ideal entry point for the uninitiated. If you’ve only known its similar counterparts (like Rent and Moulin Rouge), here is the source: the original bohemian tragedy, delivered with wit, beauty, and heartbreaking humanity. On opening night, as the final silent curtain fall gave way to a thunderous standing ovation, it felt as though everyone in the Lyric Theatre knew they had been part of something special and fleeting.

Photography by Murray Summerville