La Traviata – review

Hot on the heels of the sordid affair that was Manon Lescaut, Welsh National Opera's revival of David McVicar's highly evocative production of La Traviata should have been balm. It still looks stunning, and the tonal and textural details of Tanya McCallin's Tissot-inspired set and costumes continue to resonate. Yet the emotional detail, subtly woven into the fabric of the piece by McVicar on its previous outings in Cardiff, felt decidedly lacking this time round.

From the outset, the chemistry between Linda Richardson's Violetta and Peter Sonn's Alfredo seemed to be missing that essential spark. The Austrian Sonn possesses more heft than his categorisation as lyric tenor would imply. He mostly sounded as if he were auditioning for bigger Wagner roles than he has sung hitherto – and they might suit him – but the gain in volume was too often at the expense of expressive warmth and vocal flexibility. It was Alan Opie, in the role of Germont père, who showed suppleness: his words were given meaning and his voice was full of feeling. Thanks to conductor Simon Phillippo, the strength of the WNO chorus, and the spirited Rebecca Afonwy-Jones as Flora, the party was full of fizz, though, again, it was Opie's denouncement of his son that gave the scene more boost.

Ironically, Richardson – whose vibrato and intonation had been too uneven – improved as her character went into its final decline. In the intimacy of this closing scene, the nobility of Violetta's sacrifice and the tragedy of her demise was as touching as Verdi intended.