BOHEME VIBES

January is a miserable time of year. February too. If I had my way New Year's day would be declared the 1st March and we could just simply and effortlessly by-pass those two most disagreeable months of the calender year altogether.

However, if pushed to defend January in any regard in a court of law, then I might make the case that it's a good 'Boheme' month by which I mean Puccini's opera 'La Boheme'.

'Boheme months' run from November through to February and are the cultural equivalent of a log fire for the ears, heart and mind. Rodolfo, poet protagonist of the famous opera, burns his rejected manuscripts to keep warm in his Parisian apartment, I simply play 'La Boheme' on repeat to acheieve a similar effect.

Currently, I've been enjoying re-playing on repeat Herbert Von Karajan's classic Decca 1973 recording of the opera with Luciano Pavarotti and Mirella Freni. This has to be the undisputed definitive recording of this opera. Everytime I play it, I am in awe of its audio perfection and it never fails to delight me, with that magically spacious Jesus-Christus-Kirche acoustic in Berlin which sounds positively multi-dimensional here.

Playing Act 3, especially while we here in the UK are experiencing a cold snap, reminds me of days back in my youth, listening to 'La Boheme' highlights (Serafin) on my Sony Walkman whilst traipsing back and forth to Archway School for evening rehearsals studying Chekhov's 'The Cherry Orchard' for my Theatre Studies A-level. The atmospheric conditions back then were perfectly matched with the music in my ears and have cemented a trigger response whenever a climate coincidence occurs this time of year. I can even remember snow days, sledging whilst listening to Musetta's glorious shrieks in Act 2 and feeling as if my young life had become an extension of those Bohemians in Paris. I sometimes think if it wasn't for the tragedy that befalls Mimi in Act 4, I would happily live in the first 3 acts of Boheme more than any other fictional world in the history of western culture. Something about falling in love in Paris in the winter with all its theatrical permutations appeals to my operatic character.

This morning it must have been around minus 4 in England and it was without hesitation, I blasted Boheme to accompany the cold weather spell. I often think of my fictional brothers in creative arms, Rodolfo, Marcello, Schaunard and Colline on days like this and it makes me feel less miserable about the dank month of January.

God knows what I would do without 'Boheme' to keep my fire alight.

I'd surely be frozen.