Puccini's "Madama Butterfly" returns to Live-at-the-Met-in-HD-at-the-Movies

Is it not curious how many of the most beloved, and ultimately most produced operas, were disasters at their premieres?

Carmen, La Traviata, The Barber of Seville and Tannhaüser come to mind. As does the ultimate in popularity: La Boheme , which met with decidedly tepid critical and audience response. Well, Madama Butterfly joins the list – as a full-fledged flop.

The premiere of this, Giacomo Puccini’s 6th opera, was on February 17th, 1904, at the prestigious La Scala in Milan. It was met with catcalls, howls of laughter, hissing -- in short, general pandemonium. After some revisions, when resuscitated just three months later in Brescia, it emerged as a fabulous success.

There is a suspicion that the initial fiasco was created by a paid anti-Puccini claque, hired by jealous Puccini rivals. In any case, they may have done posterity a favor, because the emerged Madama Butterfly is an absolute masterpiece.

There certainly were no catcalls at the Live-at-the-Met-in-HD performance of this 2016 version of the radiant Anthony Minghella production, which was first offered worldwide on March 7th 2008. Indeed, applause and shouts of “ Bravo” were audible in the movie theater I attended. And the Live-at-the-Met itself, certainly showed its appreciation by giving Kristine Opolais – our Butterfly -- a standing ovation.

Miss Opolais (of recent Manon Lescaut and an earlier Met season’s fame for singing Cio-Cio-San one night and pinch-hitting for an ailing Mimi, the next) certainly deserved it. Her performance both dramatically and vocally was most persuasive. Her metamorphosis, from the shy geisha in Act. I, to the more mature, deserted woman in Acts 2 and 3, was quite astonishing.

In a lively interview with the performance host, Deborah Voigt, both she and our Pinkerton, the tenor Roberto Alagna (also much admired for recently pinch-hitting for the ailing Super-Star Jonas Kaufmann in Manon Lescaut) explained their well thought-through interpretations of their roles.

One of the most enlightening aspects of these intermission interviews, as the singers come right off the stage, is the discussion about the difficulties of the role, its particular tessitura, their take on the action etc., which really increases our understanding of all opera.

In this case the interviews of the Mezzo-Soprano Maria Zifchak, who now seems to own the part of Suzuki and fulfills it splendidly, and the always marvelous baritone Dwayne Croft, (our Sharpless) were especially meaningful. These artists performed these same roles in the original Minghella production when it first arrived at the Met, and were reminiscing about his detailed instructions at the time.

Our audience showed not only admiration for the entire vocal, and orchestral performance, under the baton of debuting Karel Mark Chichon, but audibly enjoyed the visual elements Mr. Minghella offers. The much honored director, producer, screenwriter, actor, known to everyone for triumphs such as The English Patient and The Mysterious Mr. Ripley, enriched the enchantment of his Butterfly with the use of Bunraka Puppetry.

This unique form of intricate puppetry, founded in Osaka in 1684, which takes 3 puppeteers to work each individual puppet, is still performed in today’s Japan. Here he uses it to make the heroine’s little son even more vulnerable than usual. It telegraphs that his future is controlled by manipulative social forces, as was its trusting mother’s. Most ingeniously he uses it also, via a puppet of Butterfly, as she envisions herself, during the famous all-night vigil.

The libretto for Madama Butterfly by Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica, (the librettists of the very successful Tosca and Boheme,) is based on the similarly titled Belasco play. This, in turn, in based on a story by John Luther Long.

The plot has Pinkerton, a callous American Naval Lieutenant, renting a house overlooking Nagasaki harbor, that comes complete with 3 servants and a teen-aged, impoverished geisha -- Cio-Chio-San, (Butterfly.) Pinkerton makes it clear to Sharpless, the sympathetic, disapproving American Consul, that he will “marry” her for his billeting stay in Nagasaki only. She, in love with Pinkerton, takes the marriage very seriously, converts to Christianity, which ostracises her from her Japanese family.

The 2nd act, 3 years later, has Cio-Cio-San, rejecting the latest potential Japanese husband, convinced that Pinkerton will return to her and their little son. Sharpless who has arrived with a letter from Pinkerton announcing that he and his real American wife are coming, does not have the heart to reveal the truth to Cio-Cio-San.

When a cannon shot announces the arrival of a naval ship, Butterfly’s loyal servant, Suzuki, overjoyed that her prayers for her mistress have been answered, strews flowers as she, Butterfly and the boy start a vigil waiting for Pinkerton.

As dawn breaks, Butterfly puts the sleeping boy into his room, just as Sharpless has brought the Pinkertons up to the house. Suzuki catches on in horror, but promises to break the news to Butterfly, that on top of everything else, they want the boy. Pinkerton, conscious-stricken, runs off. Butterfly in meeting Kate, the wife, grasps the situation, agrees to give up the child, and commits suicide rather than live in shame. She dies, just as Pinkerton returns. (Minghella chose the female “Jigai” ritual, severing the arteries of the neck with a single stroke, over the usual “Harakiri” of other productions.)

Witnessing either tragic death has always elicited a few audible sobs from the audience. Deservedly so, not only for the heart-rending story but the overwhelmingly emotional, magical score. Puccini (1858-1924) makes some use of authentic Japanese melodies, as well as ostinato, the insistent repetition of one note or rhythm which authenticates the Asian essence.

The score is far different from the Verismo that Puccini is known for, but as for “reality”, just listen to the strains of “The Star Spangled Banner” and the Japanese National Anthem. Maybe they’re cheap shots, but they bring the totality of the prejudice of the time right to the surface.

A friend, who is a veteran of the Korean War and was present during the occupation of Japan as well, told me that the word “Butterflying” was bandied about, when people referred to individuals who “slept around.” (Much as a butterfly flutters from flower to flower.) He wonders whether the title here was a hint to us, that Cio-Cio-San may not have been so innocent a geisha after all. I protest! I am convinced she came to Pinkerton pure as the driven snow. What do you think?

If you want to have a marvelous operatic HD experience, catch the Encore of Madama Butterfly on Wednesday April 6th at 6:30 PM or Thursday, April 7th at 1:00 PM.