Madama Butterfly: An opera review by Murray Dahm
This Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour (HOSH) production of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly was first seen in 2014 and here makes its triumphant return ‘home.’
Uniquely among HOSH productions, this one has been produced in Rome since its first production and it is easy to see why. The set (a deceptively simple green hill with a bamboo forest for the wedding in act I which then transforms before the audience’s eyes to an incomplete apartment complex in the interval) is a combination of brilliant elements – it was an excellent touch that the crew who transformed the set with such skill were entirely visible and got their own (much applauded) curtain call.
Puccini’s Madama Butterfly first appeared in 1904 but was not, at first, successful; the production we see today is usually a combination of revisions made up until 1907 (there are actually five versions of the opera). Telling the story of American naval lieutenant B.F. Pinkerton marrying the fifteen-year-old Cio-Cio-San or ‘Butterfly’ (Chocho in Japanese) and builds her a house in Nagasaki but then abandons her. It is a plot that has been retold many times (Miss Saigon copies many of its elements directly from Madama Butterfly). It is, therefore, always interesting when something new is attempted.
Diego Torre as Pinkerton and Karah Son as Cio-Cio-San in Opera Australia’s 2023 production of Madama Butterfly on Sydney Harbour at Mrs Macquaries Point
Photo Credit: Keith Saunders
Here, the hill representing Nagasaki (sets designed by Alfons Flores) is evocative and we see a wedding catering company setting up for a wedding as soon as the opera opens. This immediately gives the opera a contemporary feel. Gone is any semblance of naval appointment for Pinkerton – he appears in a grey suit with three American friends (the baseball cap clinches the contemporary setting). It later appears (in Act II) he is a (failed?) property developer.
The director tells us that the opera is set in the ‘very present’ but the failure of several Sydney building companies in the week of the opening night was prescient. Nonetheless, the text and surtitles are full of his position as lieutenant and his ship (the ‘Abraham Lincoln’). The sacredness of the text often means that updated productions must ignore the fact their setting is at odds with what we are told. Here, though, the updating is largely successful. The first aspect of the success of this setting (originally directed by Àlex Ollé and here revived by Susana Gómez) comes in the wedding scene – this is an ‘American tourist wedding’ – pandering to the culture of the venue. The guests are mostly American and some come dressed for a western wedding and others are dressed up in ‘typical’ Japanese kimonos – each member of the chorus had a different character and these were beautifully and fully drawn. After the exquisite success of Chorus! earlier in Opera Australia’s season which showcased their talents, this scene alone again reiterated what a collective asset the Opera Australia Chorus has. Only in the ‘Humming Chorus’ (where they walked across the stage as the homeless and dispossessed) did the vocals not quite measure up – usually, they hum unseen offstage (and still). I am sure they would have preferred to take their bows in their wedding costumes than in their Act II assemblage of rags and plastic bags.
It is only in the wedding scene (complete with obligatory fireworks) where the ‘outdoor spectacular’ aspect of Madama Butterfly is obvious. Even the fireworks worked as part of the wedding (Pinkerton checked his watch at one point – needing the ceremony to be over for the timing of his fireworks surprise?). The remainder of the opera is intimate and involves only small combinations of characters. The set helped (the chorus making an appearance for the ‘Humming Chorus’ did not). Nonetheless, this production worked on many levels. The only issue I might point to is one shared by many outdoor opera productions – with such a wide stage to utilise, often the intimate moments between two characters are presented with the characters separated because you have so much space to use. I would have preferred, in the love duet for instance, that the characters be close to one another as they sing intimately to one another, in a spotlight to draw us into their closeness rather than them be separated to take advantage of a wide stage.
Diego Torre as Pinkerton sang with a fresh and bright tone which perfectly encapsulated Pinkerton’s inadvertent villainy – he does not think of the consequences of his actions but is carried away in a foolhardy rashness of passion. Unfortunately, as Act I continued Torre’s voice thickened and this meant some phrases towards the end of the mighty Act I love duet ‘Bimba dagli occhi’ ‘Sweetheart, with eyes’, proved difficult and the last phrases were sung down the octave.
When Pinkerton returned in Act III, the freshness was back, and his aria ‘Addio, fiorito asil ‘Farewell, flowery refuge’ was magnificent. There was also real remorse in his character and an arc which is often missing where he came to truly regret his betrayal of Butterfly – I did not get the ruthless, greedy pursuer of wealth willing to destroy beauty to get it as he was described in the director’s notes. If Torre can retain the freshness of tone with which he started the opera throughout Act I (I am sure he will), his will be a Pinkerton for the ages. His costuming in Act I (a grey suit with overcoat – no naval uniforms here) did not suit his shape – a longer coat would have helped.
Having predicted his to be a Pinkerton for the ages, what can I say about the Cio-Cio-San of Karah Son? There really aren’t enough superlatives and almost everything was flawless. Her arrival at the wedding in Act I through the bamboo forest was breath-taking and her voice was near-perfect. Her headdress seemed to be giving her some extreme issues, combined with a wet stage, this gave the arrival of the wedding party more tension than normal! She persevered without letting this affect her (similarly so when her partner was obviously having issues in the final phrases of the love duet). A note here about her delightful bridesmaids – each was (again) drawn individually (each sneaking off for champagne and leaving their parasol carrying companion in the lurch). Son sang everything magnificently – I was struck by wanting to hear her more in a theatre. I did like that this production kept her mispronunciation of ‘B.F Pinkerton’ as ‘F.B Pinkerton’ (often corrected).
The incomplete nature of the house built for Butterfly was an excellent touch – corrugated iron, tar paper, milk crates and an odd assortment of furniture added to the story. These touches added to the poignancy and pathetic nature of Butterfly’s belief in Pinkerton and his (imminent) return.
The evidence that he has abandoned her is all around her (in most productions, the house is complete and immaculate and so her belief in Pinkerton coming back after three years is more ‘my word against yours’. Here, everything was telling her she was mistaken – and this made the tragedy even greater. Son’s delivery of the famous ‘Un bel di’ (‘One fine day’, looking forward to Pinkerton’s return) surrounded by the juxtaposition that he was not coming back to her, made it especially moving. Her reveal that she was wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the American flag was heart-breaking because it came from a belief so deluded.Even more moving was the second great aria when the consul Sharpless asks what she would do if he did not come back (‘Due cose potrei far’ ‘Two things I could do’). I was moved to tears in the final scene when she gave up her son (‘Tu? Tu? Piccolo iddio!, ‘You? You? My little god!’). I did not pick up on the destruction of the natural beauty of the hill of Act I into an incomplete apartment worksite (complete with fires in drums and homeless squatters) – but that made perfect sense when I read the program later (an opera with layers which you (only) identify on later reflection is a very good sign you have witnessed something great and important). Similarly, I read the incomplete apartment as a failed property development (perhaps influenced by what had been happening in Sydney that week), rather than an ongoing one.
Michael Honeyman’s Sharpless attained the gravitas necessary in his scenes with Cio-Cio-San in Act II (especially the letter scene ‘Ora a noi’ ‘Now for us’) and then later in the Act III trio (‘Io so che alle sue pene’ ‘I know that her pain’). His warm tone and assured technique made his character sympathetic although his inability to properly intervene in the tragedy (and as the American consul in Nagasaki) is always problematic. It was pointed out to me long ago that his name being ‘Sharpless’ was intentional since he was both powerless and unable to get to the point. His concerns about Pinkerton’s behaviour in Act I were less effective (and the whisky was quaffed in mightily large drams!).
Sian Sharp’s Suzuki was well taken, and again, the loyalty and obedience she showed to Butterfly when all around showed her mistress was wrong was especially touching. David Parkin’s Bonze (in this modern rendering a Yakuza gangster with a band of thugs) was suitably menacing. Everything was under the masterful baton of Maestro Brian Castles-Onion who will, in this run, conduct his 100th Butterfly. A few sections were taken too fast for my liking but the big moments, especially ‘Ah! M’ha scordata?’ ‘Ah! He has forgotten me?’ where she reveals her son to Sharpless was just what you want from a Butterfly. The orchestra coming on set for a well-deserved ovation was welcome. The other roles Goro (Virgilio Marino), Yamadori (Alexander Hargreaves), Imperial Commissioner (Nathan Lay) and Registrar (Gregory Brown) were all well taken and added to an evening which, unlike some ‘spectacular’ productions, actually approached the true emotional core of the operatic art.
Performances continue until April 23rd.
