Puccini
Madama Butterfly – Opera in two acts to a libretto by Giuseppe Giacosa & Luigi Illica after David Belasco’s play Madame Butterfly based on John Luther Long’s short story after Pierre Loti’s tale Madame Chrysanthème [sung in Italian, with English surtitles]
★★★★☆
Lieutenant B. F. Pinkerton – Leonardo Caimi
Goro – Tom Randle
Suzuki – Kezia Bienek
Sharpless – Mark Stone
Cio-Cio-San (Butterfly) – Joyce El-Khoury
The Bonze – Keel Watson
Prince Yamadori – Neil Balfour
The Cousin – Meriel Andrew
Cio-Cio-San’s Mother – Monika Sawa
Uncle Yakuside – George Newton-Fitzgerald
Aunt – Carolyn Jackson
Imperial Commissioner – Julian Boyce
Official Registrar – Jack O’Kelly
Kate Pinkerton – Francesca Saracino
Butterfly’s Child – Zoe Broido-Green
Welsh National Opera Chorus
Welsh National Opera Orchestra
Carlo Rizzi
Lindy Hume – Director
Isabella Bywater – Designer
Eleanor Higgins – Lighting Designer
Denni Sayers – Movement Director
Ash J. Woodward – Video Designer
Reviewed by: Curtis Rogers
Reviewed: 9 November, 2021
Venue: New Theatre, Oxford, England
After a forty or so year run with its previous production of Madama Butterfly, Welsh National Opera presents a new interpretation of Puccini’s perennial tragedy that wrenches it into the twenty-first century. The clichéd and twee parade of kimonos, spring blossoms, and chic Japanese outlines for Cio-Cio-San’s dwelling to which productions of this mainstay of the operatic canon often remain wedded is overhauled in Lindy Hume’s production, with only the faintest hint of those elements thrust into a not-so-distant dystopian biosphere, as she describes it. Together with Isabella Bywater’s designs, it replicates a world that almost exists now, where basic human needs are commodified and packaged, ready to be consumed by those with the economic and social power to exploit the underprivileged.
Both Pinkerton and the guests at his and Cio-Cio-San’s wedding ceremony comprise a cross-section of modern, superficially respectable society, judging from their sartorial appearance, ever poised to exploit their greater bargaining power; spring and nature are mainly suggested by artificial projections of lights on the set rather than any real landscape that could be seen from Cio- Cio-San’s abode; and that house is a simple two-storey construction which looks slickly minimalistic at first, but as it comes under greater scrutiny over the course of the performance, with further parts of it opened, it is revealed as a more claustrophobic environment, serving only the most basic needs of daily human existence. The production is not specifically related to the pandemic, but the tedium and oppression of a life played out within a confined, limited physical space will surely resonate all the more with audiences after the experience of long periods in lockdown, without meaningful social interaction. We have become quite used to having most of our everyday needs served quickly, more or less at whim, by means of a few commands issued impersonally, online, and the goods delivered, and the idea of this production is only a step away from that, as romantic human relationships are also up for barter and exchange. The present reality of dating apps is perhaps not so far removed from that in any case, with the seemingly endless catalogue of potential partners creating the illusion of free choice, but which actually tends to render any real commitment as merely provisional and temporary – just as Pinkerton evidently has no qualms about moving on after exercising the break clause in his marriage contract, however passionately he may have felt about his involvement with Cio-Cio-San at the time. She is left behind, in economically straightened circumstances, as a single mother, and her honour compromised – that word in red graphically counterpointed by the stain of blood which results from her suicide at the end.
Carlo Rizzi conducts an attentive and compelling reading of the score which runs parallel with the drama of this production, rather than merely luxuriating in the sumptuousness of the music, and so also shaking up any jaded expectations on the part of the audience, inured to this ubiquitous part of the operatic canon. He instils in the WNO Orchestra a nervous excitability throughout Act One, which sometimes also dances with Cio-Cio-San’s joyous hopefulness. The beginning of her long duet with Pinkerton is translucent but also holds back a little, as though casting doubt on the sincerity of the feelings expressed in the words.
The first part of Act Two keeps hope alive with a more settled course through the music, as Cio-Cio-San patiently awaits Pinkerton’s return, with a charged account of ‘Un bel di vedremo’. But the lack of vibrato in the accompaniment of the few bowed strings during the ‘Humming Chorus’ already portends sullenness and disappointment, and the climax whipped up for the purely instrumental introduction to its second part seems more a manifestation of desperation, which finds its resolution only in the devastating final bars of the whole opera.
On the surface Joyce El-Khoury sounds confident and captivating as the fifteen-year-old Butterfly, but she underscores that with a certain brittleness that hints at the character’s fragility. Leonardo Caimi brings vocal lustre and charm to the role of Pinkerton, suggesting some degree of human warmth and vigour, though there is also swagger implying cynicism; and the quick despatch of his protestations of guilt, as he confronts Cio-Cio-San with his new American wife, leaves room for doubt as to their sincerity. Although not giving an especially urgent performance musically as Sharpless, Mark Stone still conveys compassion in the role through his imperturbable presence in the drama and the impression he gives of having seen it all before. Suzuki is gently characterised by Kezia Bienek, seeming as much a victim as Butterfly in the prevailing circumstances of their situation in that her performance is one of quiet resignation. In the tender ‘Flower Duet’ of Act Two, her and El-Khoury’s voices blend mellifluously and seamlessly, in harmony with the equally sweet-sounding violins, offering the one glimpse in this performance of humans and nature at one with each other, without any undercurrents of the tragedy to come. By contrast Tom Randle is to-the-point as the marriage-broker Goro, Keel Watson makes an ominous appearance as the Bonze, both in musical and choreographic terms, and Neil Balfour makes for a drolly self-pitying Prince Yamadori, the alternative suitor for Butterfly whom she rejects.
If it is hardly surprising that opera companies revisit established repertoire, given the financial insecurity wrought by the pandemic, that is justified by a production such as this which does not fall back on to a tried-and-tested manner of presentation. This denies the audience the comfort of colluding in the charge often levelled against Puccini as indulging in a voyeuristic and detached exploration of Cio-Cio-San’s sufferings, or seeing those as unrelated to conditions today but merely the product of a vanished social system and culture. Rather it draws unsettling parallels with the world as it is now, with many aspects of human lives more sundered, contingent, and marketable than ever before, and requiring from the audience something more than a generalised, aesthetic emotional sympathy with the vulnerable Butterfly.