Review: LA Opera’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’ Seduces With Searing Love & Tragedy

If you think you know Romeo and Juliet, or have exhaustively experienced the ways it can be publicly consumed, think again. Although opera lovers will know, William Shakespeare enthusiasts may be unaware of the fact that perhaps the world’s most renowned story, epitomizing all-encompassing love and tragedy, was also conceived as a sonically pleasing tale over five acts by French composer Charles Gounod. The epic translated into French, Roméo et Juliette, premiered in Paris in 1867 and has again become an LA Opera production in 2024, offering wondrous visuals and a score that keeps you on the edge of your seat despite knowing how the saga is going to end.

Domingo Hindoyan, Chief Conductor of the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, makes his LA Opera debut in style, eliciting tremendously rousing subtleties and crescendos from his pit orchestra who acutely interpret Gounod’s poeticism. Similarly new to the LA Opera, Amina Edris (Juliet) and Duke Kim (Romeo) take centerstage at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, impressing not just with vocals signifying a fiery desire, wistfulness, or melancholy, but as individuals — not to mention a combined package — whose raw and palpable presence suspends any semblance of disbelief. Suffice it to say, this is an onstage couple to be reckoned with — now, in the 19th century, and in 1597.

Directed and choreographed by Kitty McNamee who maximizes the anticipation, not since 2011 (the last time Gounod’s opera was produced in L.A.) has Verona looked more fabulous and becoming of the finest royal courts in spite of the vehemence, ire, and crimes born out of a razor-sharp passion characterizing the warring Montague and Capulet families. Of course, on one side of the veritable line that must not be crossed stands Romeo Montague and, on the other, Juliet Capulet, which makes their eventual and forbidden love affair all the more searing and incandescently intense. But the greater the flame, the more noticeable when it only smolders, and the more shocking when it is summarily stamped out.

Notwithstanding a curious, black-palled epilogue to begin, a quick segue into the chandeliered festivities, specifically the Capulet ball, transpires. And what a scene it is, replete with a towering red curtain and gold-accented wood beam structures, with built-in stairwells and tiers that ascend to the rafters — a product of the fecund imagination of scenic designer John Gunter. The tuxedos and hoop skirts, from Juliet’s ivory head-turner to the red and ornamentally retro couture adorned by the company, are, among many other lavish costumes, designed by Tim Goodchild whose creations are deserving of being encased in glass to be marveled at upon the conclusion of the run.

Duane Schuler’s lighting suggests an opulence where beauty and fashion roar, belied only by destructive emotions that threaten ruination; this seeming juxtaposition engages both on the surface and when Ian Judge’s original storybook reimagining grows darker with each successive chapter. Not to mention, Jeremy Frank’s chorus legion, arrayed on the multilevel scaffolding, never fails to deepen the sounds of adoration and sorrow.

When Romeo enters the picture, Juliet is increasingly steeled against the notion of marrying Count Paris, as much as Lord Capulet might urge it. A secret wedding between the teenage lovers — carried out by Friar Laurence — sees a distressing aftermath as Mercutio, Romeo’s trusty friend, has a terrible run-in with the Capulets’ Tybalt (and it is particularly here when Andrew Kenneth Moss’s knife-wielding choreography renders a harrowing moment even more compelling). Ultimately, when a potion-cure-all plan is hatched to enable Romeo and Juliet to be together in peace, a delayed realization culminates dolorously; and, unlike the play, the protagonists live for just a few breaths longer — a momentary and much-needed respite from the soberingly flat-lined silence etching the final period in this classic.

The arias by Edris and Kim, not to mention their duets, are magnetic, symbolizing a pull that is fiercely calm before a tumultuous storm inevitably pulls their personae apart. The Cairo, Egypt-born Edris exhibits a finesse as a soprano who uses her dexterous and dove-esque voice to sanguinely reach into the heavens, as in “Je veux vivre,” aligning with her character’s noble attempt to capture an elusive happiness. In her Act IV aria, “Amour ranime mon courage,” Edris, with potion in hand, profoundly conveys Juliet’s worst phantom-infused fears, before she is reassured by her unremitting love for Kim’s Romeo.

Kim mirrors this wanting without veering into wantonness; the South Korean tenor takes his vocals to the limit, managing to clear tall hurdles, all the while maintaining otherworldly control. Kim’s Act II aria, “Ah! Leve-toi, soleil,” solidifies more than just Romeo’s infatuation with Juliet; it categorically confirms his eternal faithfulness to his “charming star.” Between the two young performers, an inescapable innocence predominates but not as much as a devoted ardor, exemplified by Juliet’s staggering declamation: “If I can’t be his, let the grave be my bridal bed.”

The Julius Barbier and Michel Carré-written libretto additionally serves the talents of bass-baritone star Craig Colclough who always manages to be the charismatic powerhouse of any opera he’s in, be it The Marriage of Figaro, Don Giovanni, or this one. His Lord Capulet brims with a sense of revelry when he is a party host but is also proven to be short-sighted, never learning from his “history of folly,” and instead prioritizing the dying wishes of his nephew Tybalt over the will of his daughter. Undoubtedly, Colclough’s Capulet is a low-key stirrer of the rage repelling the families, which aptly feeds the drama.

Wei Wu lends his robust, but also comforting, bass tonality to the compassionate Friar Laurence — a voice of pious reason amidst the upheaval. Justin Austin, a baritone sporting a smooth timbre, liberatingly lets loose as Mercutio, Romeo’s extroverted confidant, in the well-known “Queen Mab” aria — a piece that is as marked by its surreal frivolity as its fatalistic foreshadowing. Indiana University graduate Yuntong Han, a tenor who utilizes his voice with great utility, makes for a rageful and truculent Tybalt.

Unique to the Romeo and Juliet opera (rather than the play) is Romeo’s pageboy Stephano, played by mezzo-soprano Laura Krumm, who incites the ire of the Capulets, especially Gregorio (Gregory in the play) portrayed by Hyungjin Son. Krumm impresses with vitality in her relatively short stage time, serenading “Que fais-tu, blanche tourterelle” with irreverent panache, and Son captures the keen vociferousness opposed to Stephano’s mockery.

Furthermore, Margaret Gawrysiak, a sunny mezzo, brings some lightheartedness (and empathy) to the proceedings as Gertrude the Nurse, and the ever-reliable Ryan Wolfe is the determined-to-be-wed Count Paris. Rounding out the cast are two underrated performers: Vinícius Costa, who is the violence-loathing mediator, the Duke of Verona, and Nathan Bowles who inhabits Romeo’s cousin Benvolio.

It is said that adolescence is characterized by emotional turbulence, sensitivity, and, when things go sour, fragility. Romeo and Juliet the opera — otherwise referred to as Roméo et Juliette — amplifies (literally) the stakes of two star-crossed lovers who weren’t supposed to meet and fall in love but, against all odds, did as a result of their mutual longing. Fiction as it may be, and originally created by William Shakespeare as it was, Charles Gounod’s French sensibilities and ear for the headiest of arias and duets have coalesced into a haunting love story and spectacle worthy of the LA Opera stage and an audience of any era.

Cover image caption: Duke Kim as Romeo and Amina Edris as Juliet in LA Opera’s production of Romeo and Juliet at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles, CA. Photo credit: Cory Weaver

Three more performances of LA Opera’s production of Romeo and Juliet remain at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion: Sunday, Nov. 17th at 2:00 p.m., Wednesday, Nov. 20th at 7:30 p.m., and Saturday, Nov. 23rd at 7:30 p.m. Lina González-Granados will conduct on Nov. 20th and 23rd. For more information, and to purchase tickets, visit laopera.org.