Review: If It's Monday, It Must Be Puccini - Opolais is a Ravishing MADAMA BUTTERFLY at the Met

MADAMA BUTTERFLY was never my favorite Puccini until the current production conceived by film director Anthony Minghella, his only one for the Met before his untimely death in 2008. Before, Butterfly always seemed too submissive, Pinkerton too brutish and their child, well, too cute. The music, while sophisticated in style and endlessly inventive, was frequently overwrought in execution.

Now--particularly with the current cast, headed by the magnificent Kristine Opolais as the young geisha and the dashing Roberto Alagna as the clueless Pinkerton, her American husband--seemed to put my past reservations to rest. These artists never seemed to fall back on easy answers to the questions that these difficult roles pose for them. The result was a magnificent performance, from beginning to end.

Is there a more gorgeous creation in the Met's repertoire than the one Minghella and his collaborators brought to life in 2006? The superbly directed and choreographed production, designed by Michael Levine with lighting by Peter Mumford and now under the keen eye of Minghella's widow and original choreographer Carolyn Choa, is a skillful reminder of the magic that can occur in the opera house.

Even after several viewings since its first season in 2006, I still found more and more to love about it. It never seemed to take a misstep: From the gorgeous Japonaiserie of its opulent costumes (by Han Feng) and simple sets, to the use of Bunraku puppets for Butterfly's child and for Butterfly herself (by Blind Summit Theatre) in a dream sequence, from the use of overhead mirrors that give an alternate view of the action on stage to the stylized death of Butterfly that places her child as the center of her being. And, perhaps most of all, from the intimate exchange of Butterfly and Pinkerton that turns to ecstasy as roses, first in petals then in sheets, rained down on the stage, the production kept finding new ways to amaze.

After a nice warm-up with their run of the Met's new MANON LESCAUT, Opolais and Alagna have settled into a perfect intimacy on stage. While he gave the best performance I've ever seen from him (more in a minute), this is Butterfly's opera--after all, it's named for her and she hardly leaves the stage--and Opolais didn't disappoint. Her transformation into the teenage geisha of Act I--especially after seeing her as Manon Lescaut--was stunning and altogether natural. She was even more effective in making the difficult transition from the girlish bride of Act I to the careworn woman of Act II, hoping against hope that her husband will return after a three-year absence.

While her voice has that certain central European coolness about it, she knows how to put it to good use (there were a couple of distressing breaks in her voice early on, when I intended, though she hit the notes head on). Opolais can caress a phrase and make it reach out to listeners--or produce high notes that cut like a knife, as in her devastating death scene. For the opera's most famous aria, "Un bel di," she was not singing a show-stopper, but rather, it was almost like a prayer--poignant, heart-felt and hopeful.

With his reckless use and abandonment of Butterfly, Pinkerton is certainly the most problematic role in the opera, if not in mainstream opera in its entirety. Alagna's performance turned its back on any hint of premeditation in his portrayal, holding back on the swagger as he went from totally and blindly clueless to utterly remorseful. It may not have made Pinkerton likeable--an impossible task, I believe--but it made total sense. He reeled in his stentorian tenor for a ripe sound in his love scene and duet with Butterfly in the first act but was capable of being forceful or repentant, as needed, later on.

There really wasn't a weak link in the cast. Two of the Met's most enduring stalwarts--baritone Dwayne Croft and mezzo Maria Zifchak--were marvelous with highly nuanced performances as Sharpless, the consul charged with keeping up Pinkerton's deception, and Suzuki, Butterfly's maid and companion, respectively. Tenor Tony Stevenson and baritone Yunpeng Wang were standouts in smaller but key roles: the marriage broker, Goro, and Prince Yamadori, a potential suitor for the abandoned geisha, respectively. The wonderful Met chorus, under Donald Palumbo, was indispensable, both musically and for the pageantry of the piece. A special bravo to all the performers dressed in black, the unobtrusive puppeteers, furniture- and prop-movers.

While the champion Met orchestra generally sounded fine in Puccini's rapturous score, conductor Karel Mark Chichon--who made his house debut earlier in the run of the opera--was sometimes a little too vigorous, overpowering the singers in several instances. During the crucial "Un bel di," he seemed to be fighting to keep in sync with Opolais.

Minor quibbles aside, though, it was a great evening of theatre/opera/magic.

###

MADAMA BUTTERFLY, with the cast reviewed, will be transmitted worldwide, to more than 2000 movie theatres in 70 countries, as part of the Met's Live in HD series on April 2 at 12:55pm EDT.

Opolais also performs BUTTERFLY on March 25 and 29, and April 6, 9, and 12. Alagna appears in the March performances and April 2; the balance in April feature Robert De Biasio.

Curtain times vary: complete schedule here.