I must have been inspired when I persuaded Mrs Edwards that a trip to La Scala, Milan (12 July 2008) was a good idea even though the tickets (to see Puccini’s La Boheme) cost more than the GDP of a small country. Frankly, it was worth every penny - La Scala exceeded all my expectations. The building itself is not that impressive from the outside, but inside is a different story. I admit to being ‘blown away’ by the lavishly elegant auditorium with its plush stalls and six tiers of boxes all richly decorated in red and gold. The opulent and stylish decor extended to the ante-rooms where Milan’s glitterati gathered and provided us with a wonderful ‘people-watching’ experience.

From the moment the curtain rose, it was obvious that this was going to be special. Franco Zeffirelli’s wonderful, traditional staging took full advantage of the space provided by La Scala’s vast proscenium arch. Whether it was the drab Parisian garret apartment of the first and final acts, or the street scene or Enfer City Gate of the middle acts, the attention to detail was amazing. This was truly a window into another time and place.

Fabio Sartori as Rudolfo, looked and sounded quite like a young Pavarotti and endeared himself to the audience from the start with his warmth, gentle humour and great voice. The orchestra, under maestro Gustavo Dudamel seemed a little over-powering at first, but settled down to a much better balance by the time Rudolfo sang ‘Che gelida manina’. Perhaps I have spent too many hours listening to Pavarotti taking liberties with this famous aria, but I felt that perhaps a little more could have been made of it – for instance, though the climax was beautifully and effortlessly delivered, it was gone in a flash and I regretted that Sartori had not lingered for just a little longer on his wonderfully mellow top ‘c’. Svetlana Vassileva as Mimi provided a perfect match for Sartori, combining dignity with vulnerability in a way that produced pure pathos. Sadly, I do not speak Italian, but even I could appreciate her wonderful diction – this was especially evident in her opening aria, ‘Si, mi chiamano Mimi’. All of the superbly-acted characters possessed real tenderness, passion and all-too-human flaws and frailties, making it easy to care for their plight.

The staging for Act II (in the Latin Quarter) was spectacular with scenes reminiscent of Renoir’s Ball at the Moulin de la Galette. The depth and height of La Scala’s stage allowed for a fabulously three-dimensional scene with a market (and later, Cafe Momus) in the foreground nestled below a bustling Parisian street on a higher level. Again the realism was breathtaking – never more so than when Musetta, (played to coquettish perfection by Nina Machiadze) and Alcindoro (Matteo Peirone), arrived at Cafe Momus in a in full-size horse-drawn carriage! The visual feast continued into Act III which transported us to a snowy scene by the city gates, snowflakes gently falling as a prelude to the wonderful scene and quartet where Mimi and Rudolfo are tenderly making-up while Marcello (Luca Salsi) and Musetta are squabbling and name-calling!

And so to the final scene. Even if you don’t know the story, it’s pretty obvious from the outset where this is going and yet Puccini’s setting of Illica and Giacosa’s libretto, still has the power the reduce the audience to tears. Each and every one of the characters perfectly captured the emotion surrounding the miserable end to Mimi’s unfortunate life. Somehow, knowing that Mimi is dead even before Rudolfo does, places you right there in the dingy garret with the characters, sharing their ghastly realization - and then, feeling with Rudolfo the final bitterness and despair of his loss.

Thankfully, as is the way with all opera, Mimi made a fantastic recovery in time to take a well-deserved curtain-call and, amid rapturous applause, Sartori looked genuinely overwhelmed and surprised by the audience’s obvious affection for him! The other artistes, all delivering flawless performances, were: Massimo Cavalletti (Schaunard), Giorgio Guiseppini (Colline), and Domenico Colaianni (Benoit).

I admit to running out of superlatives to describe this performance. All I can say is that La Scala’s reputation for excellence is well-deserved if this performance is anything to go by. I am considering taking out a second mortgage for a return visit. You only live once, after all (unless you’re an opera singer).