In July 2012 the Salzburg Festival mounted its first production of La bohème, which appeared on DVD (and Blu-Ray) later that year. Fans of Puccini's popular opera will savour the strong singing on the disc. Anna Netrebko as Mimì and Piotr Beczala as Rodolfo turn in outstanding vocal renditions of the lovers. Although Netrebko's sound is darker than the typical voice in the role (think of Mirella Freni, for example), it is beautifully nuanced and offers a rich palette of colour. Beczala also captures the lush quality of Puccini's style. What a treat when the two sing together, especially in the moving duets of Acts 1 and 3: they create a wonderful blend and their musical instincts are utterly in synch. Rodolfo's pals are also vocally strong. Massimo Cavalletti is outstanding as Marcello, and Carlo Colombara (Colline) and Alessio Arduini (Schaunard) round out the male quartet with gusto. Although Nino Machaidze's vocal rendition of Musetta does not stand out in such a stellar cast, she plays the flirt with great flair.

The orchestral playing is first-rate. Conductor Daniele Gatti, an emerging star who won praise for his Parsifal at the Metropolitan Opera in early 2013, shapes Puccini's score with great sensitivity. Except for the start of the choral scene in Act 2 and a few other places, the coordination with the singers is smooth and the balance highly successful. The Vienna Philharmonic gives an inspired performance with shimmering sound that brings out Puccini's generous doubling of vocal lines. On the whole, the disc has excellent sound quality. I watched the regular DVD version, and presumably the Blu-Ray (Deutsche Grammophon 1779859) is even better.

Visual and medial aspects of this Bohème, however, are not as successful, and in some ways are disappointing. The production, directed by Damiano Marchietto and designed by Paolo Fantin, updates the story to contemporary Paris and shows the Bohemians immersed in pop culture. Mimì sports leather jacket, boots and neck tattoo, while the men appear in T-shirts and scruffy pants; Rodolfo has retro black glasses. The floor tilts sharply from left to right, for no apparent reason. Act 1 occurs in an odd space – I can't tell what it is – with heavy rear walls that close off most of the depth of the stage. The shallow ‘room’, such as it is, has a mess of mattresses, clothes and props on the floor. By act's end we see a wide balustrade up high, where Rodolfo and Mimì sing their duet. In Act 2 the outdoor space is also confined, and the massed forces sing in a line across the front of the stage. A colourful street map of Paris – a reference to Google? – forms the backdrop and spreads onto the floor. Act 3 features the most effective set: a road stop outside Paris with hot-dog stand and rolled-up highway. Against Puccini's bleak open fifths, well-heeled revellers pass homeless people under a bridge – one of many references to the gulf between rich and poor in today's society. The last act returns to the men's abode, but the previously shallow space is replaced by a black background, expanding the emotional world of the characters. At the end of the opera Mimì's name is writ large on windows by a giant hand: a curious image whose purpose might be to provide a visual effect during the final instrumental music (something similar occurred in Act 1).

Marchietto has the characters in motion most of the time. Perhaps this is meant to capture the hyperactivity of youth culture or drug-taking (as implied in several places). Or it may be a way of counteracting the static quality of Puccini's music so that it does not undermine the modern setting. Whatever the reason, the action is on overdrive, especially in the contained spaces of Acts 1 and 2. More successfully, the singers move in a naturalistic way that resembles televisual style, and the talented cast brings it off effectively, especially Netrebko.

The updated culture produces some strange clashes with the opera. When Rodolfo replies ‘scrivo’ (‘I write’) to Mimì's question, he points to a video camera on a tripod: does this mean he's a filmmaker? a screenwriter? a writer who films as a hobby? We are never sure. Earlier, the text about Mimì searching for a light shows her looking for a ‘light’ for her cigarette (or joint). Elsewhere a mismatch occurs when Rodolfo waxes lyrical over her blue eyes and the camera's close-up shows Netrebko's brown eyes. The medical situation at the end is also problematic. In modern Paris and most of the West, poor people who are seriously ill can go to an emergency room or a hospital. These Bohemians are no exception. Thus when Mimì's coughing worsens and she is dying, her friends could summon an ambulance (Norwegian National Opera's 2012 production has Mimì in the hospital). That they do not is anachronistic.

This gets at the major problem with the Salzburg production: a literal updating to contemporary pop culture of an opera whose music and text do not easily support this sort of interpretation. Such a literal depiction of contemporary culture does not mesh with the sentimentality and emotionalism of La bohème. This does not mean that updating per se is to blame. Rather, it suggests that a contemporary pop setting of Puccini's opera requires considerable stylization; this can provide the necessary distance between the original and the staging for the audience to take it all in. In this regard I am reminded of Peter Sellars's updated productions of the Mozart–Da Ponte operas, from the early 1990s. Sellars inserts space between the eighteenth-century idiom and his modern setting through stylized movements, props, pacing and camerawork to foster detachment from the original. Even, say, with the blatant clash between the colloquial subtitles and the poetic Italian in his versions, the stylized elements perform wonders in connecting the two worlds. In my view this is necessary in an updated Bohème awash in contemporary pop culture.

Some medial elements could also be more effective. One involves the camerawork, which is directed by Brian Large, a respected veteran in the field. Although viewers see the stage from various angles and are treated to close-ups as well as establishing shots and the like, what is missing are shots captured by the fluid motion of the Cam camera.Footnote ¹ Perhaps the Salzburg hall is not equipped with this technology. In contrast, the Cam is put to fine use in the Metropolitan Opera's HD broadcasts; it links people and action smoothly across the set and adds rhythmic interest that enlivens the medial experience. With the Cam, the shallow spaces of this Bohème would make more sense and the opera's youthful characters gain vitality. In addition, the disc desperately needs bonus features. There is no commentary – neither by the director, the conductor nor the singers: a lost opportunity indeed. Discs of major houses typically offer these features, as in, for example, Glyndebourne's Gianni Schicchi of 2005 and the Royal Opera House's Le nozze di Figaro of 2008. It would help enormously if Bohème's production team told us about the concept behind the updating and the staging.

All in all, the Salzburg Bohème represents a vocal treat for opera fans, but the production and its medial rendition leave something to be desired.