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Butterfly, improved yet again
Opera Company's "Madame Butterfly' (2nd review)
Steve Cohen
Whenever I see Madama Butterfly I think about the home of the story's author, John Luther Long. He was a Philadelphia lawyer (1861-1927) who lived in the suburb of Elkins Park. When my eldest children were kids, I'd attend their Little League games there. On a hill above that baseball field stood the large Victorian house where Long wrote his tale.
His story was published in Century Magazine in 1898 and later in book form. David Belasco adapted it for the stage, with a successful premiere in 1900 in New York. Later that year Belasco's play was performed in London, where it was seen by Puccini, who was in the city for the premiere of Tosca at Covent Garden. He in turn transformed it into an opera, with a libretto by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giocosa.
It's difficult to believe that Long would not have known Pierre Loti's popular novel, Madame Chrysanthème, published in 1887, which tells of a young naval officer, Pierre, who enters into a temporary marriage with a geisha while stationed in Japan. Chrysanthème is practical. She counts her money and is ready to look for a new temporary husband at the story's end. It was Long who coined her name, Cho-Cho San (Cio-Cio San in the opera's Italian language); who made her a sympathetic and tragic figure; and who made the officer an American.
My admiration for Long is tempered by the fact that he never credited Loti. Instead, Long claimed that his narrative was based on the recollections of his sister, Jennie Correll, who had been to Japan with her husband, a Methodist missionary.
This narrative of the relationship between an American naval officer and a Nagasaki girl became one of the most popular of all operas. It was also the basis for the 1920s pop song, Poor Butterfly, and of course later for the musical Miss Saigon and the play M Butterfly.
Stripes, spirals and dots
The production of the opera by the Opera Company of Philadelphia was perhaps the most beautiful I've ever seen. Sets and costumes were designed by the Japanese-born Jun Kaneko. His minimalist unit set of sweeping curves and his costumes in bright colors with the stripes, spirals and dots create abstraction blended with Japanese influence.
Madama Butterfly has the good fortune to be effective in a variety of settings and interpretations. While the Met's recent production of Tosca aroused hostility when it moved out of the specific church and palace specified in the libretto, this Butterfly thrives with its abstract view of Nagasaki, circa 1900. Virtually everything about it suits the legend and never intrudes on the story. The denouement was staged with an originality that maintained the opera's essence. When Butterfly stabs herself, we do not see her bleed; rather, drops of blood drip from the sun overhead.
A bland Pinkerton
My BSR colleague, Robert Zaller, writes incisively about Butterfly's cultural identity. I have only two quibbles about this beautiful production.
Lieutenant Pinkerton and the American consul are the foreigners, the intruders, the Other. Their difference should be clearly noticeable by putting them in relatively realistic outfits in contrast to the fanciful costumes of the Japanese. Kaneko blurs that difference by clothing Pinkerton and Sharpless in creations that have big patches of black, yellow, robin's egg blue and pinkish-red (decidedly not the tones of blue and red in American flags).
My other reservation: Roger Honeywell as Pinkerton shows insufficient color in his tenor voice, and his characterization is bland. He hasn't been directed to show his character's crassness and arrogance. Pinkerton displays some remorse in Act III, but his "Addio, fiorito asil" aria is mostly about his Japanese home, not the woman and child who live there. We yearn for some recognition that Pinkerton has, with legal sanction, raped a teenage girl who trusted him, and now he is stealing her baby and driving her to suicide.
A stunning heroine
Ermonela Jaho was stunning as Butterfly. Her voice seemed small, which is just right for the 15-year-old girl, but it carries amazingly well. She projects her character and her voice better than any Butterfly I've seen. I eagerly look forward to more appearances by her.
Her confidant, Suzuki, was also sung on a golden-age level by the Met artist Maria Zifchak. The conducting by Corrado Rovaris was refined and atmospheric.♦
To read another review by Robert Zaller, click here.
His story was published in Century Magazine in 1898 and later in book form. David Belasco adapted it for the stage, with a successful premiere in 1900 in New York. Later that year Belasco's play was performed in London, where it was seen by Puccini, who was in the city for the premiere of Tosca at Covent Garden. He in turn transformed it into an opera, with a libretto by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giocosa.
It's difficult to believe that Long would not have known Pierre Loti's popular novel, Madame Chrysanthème, published in 1887, which tells of a young naval officer, Pierre, who enters into a temporary marriage with a geisha while stationed in Japan. Chrysanthème is practical. She counts her money and is ready to look for a new temporary husband at the story's end. It was Long who coined her name, Cho-Cho San (Cio-Cio San in the opera's Italian language); who made her a sympathetic and tragic figure; and who made the officer an American.
My admiration for Long is tempered by the fact that he never credited Loti. Instead, Long claimed that his narrative was based on the recollections of his sister, Jennie Correll, who had been to Japan with her husband, a Methodist missionary.
This narrative of the relationship between an American naval officer and a Nagasaki girl became one of the most popular of all operas. It was also the basis for the 1920s pop song, Poor Butterfly, and of course later for the musical Miss Saigon and the play M Butterfly.
Stripes, spirals and dots
The production of the opera by the Opera Company of Philadelphia was perhaps the most beautiful I've ever seen. Sets and costumes were designed by the Japanese-born Jun Kaneko. His minimalist unit set of sweeping curves and his costumes in bright colors with the stripes, spirals and dots create abstraction blended with Japanese influence.
Madama Butterfly has the good fortune to be effective in a variety of settings and interpretations. While the Met's recent production of Tosca aroused hostility when it moved out of the specific church and palace specified in the libretto, this Butterfly thrives with its abstract view of Nagasaki, circa 1900. Virtually everything about it suits the legend and never intrudes on the story. The denouement was staged with an originality that maintained the opera's essence. When Butterfly stabs herself, we do not see her bleed; rather, drops of blood drip from the sun overhead.
A bland Pinkerton
My BSR colleague, Robert Zaller, writes incisively about Butterfly's cultural identity. I have only two quibbles about this beautiful production.
Lieutenant Pinkerton and the American consul are the foreigners, the intruders, the Other. Their difference should be clearly noticeable by putting them in relatively realistic outfits in contrast to the fanciful costumes of the Japanese. Kaneko blurs that difference by clothing Pinkerton and Sharpless in creations that have big patches of black, yellow, robin's egg blue and pinkish-red (decidedly not the tones of blue and red in American flags).
My other reservation: Roger Honeywell as Pinkerton shows insufficient color in his tenor voice, and his characterization is bland. He hasn't been directed to show his character's crassness and arrogance. Pinkerton displays some remorse in Act III, but his "Addio, fiorito asil" aria is mostly about his Japanese home, not the woman and child who live there. We yearn for some recognition that Pinkerton has, with legal sanction, raped a teenage girl who trusted him, and now he is stealing her baby and driving her to suicide.
A stunning heroine
Ermonela Jaho was stunning as Butterfly. Her voice seemed small, which is just right for the 15-year-old girl, but it carries amazingly well. She projects her character and her voice better than any Butterfly I've seen. I eagerly look forward to more appearances by her.
Her confidant, Suzuki, was also sung on a golden-age level by the Met artist Maria Zifchak. The conducting by Corrado Rovaris was refined and atmospheric.♦
To read another review by Robert Zaller, click here.
What, When, Where
Madame Butterfly. Opera by Giacomo Puccini; directed by Cynthia Stokes. Opera Company of Philadelphia production through October 18, 2009 at Academy of Music, Broad and Locust St. (215) 732-8400 or operaphila.org.
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