A great deal of writing about Puccini’s Madama Butterfly – not least in The Royal Opera’s programme notes last night – has been about its Japanese aspects, whether approving the piece as an excoriating critique of colonial attitudes, denigrating it for racial stereotyping and cultural misappropriation, or any of many points in between. But it’s possible to set all that aside and focus on the purely human drama. Here are three flawed characters: Pinkerton, the amoral cad unable or unwilling to consider the consequences of his actions; Sharpless, a decent man who understands the impending disaster but lacks the gumption to avert it; and Butterfly herself, who builds a fantasy world enclosed in walls so strong that no-one, friend or foe, can penetrate them.
Indeed, the only character in the drama able to consistently demonstrate moral fibre and clarity of vision is the maid, Suzuki – but her lowly status robs her of any power to affect the outcome.
For mixed reasons, last night’s revival of Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier’s 2003 production threw this way of looking at the drama into particularly sharp relief, reinforcing the work’s tragic arc, filling us with sadness for the fate of our heroine and reminding us – if any reminder were needed – of Puccini’s unique gift for tugging at the heartstrings.
Asmik Grigorian gave a wonderful performance in the title role. It was her acting that impressed most. Cio-Cio San progresses through many mental states – coquettish, blissful, maternal, determined, and eventually exhausted and desperate. For each one, Grigorian found a compelling way of putting the audience in her character’s shoes, always exuding the sense of quiet dignity that defines Butterfly’s nature. Of course, it’s Grigorian’s voice which makes all this possible; she combined a gorgeous warmth of timbre, throughout her vocal range, with exquisite control of nuance. The only things missing, sadly, were consonants; it would have been even better had we been able to hear the Italian words rather than being completely reliant on the (well-crafted) surtitles.
Joshua Guerrero certainly looked the part of Pinkerton, the handsome, dashing naval officer par excellence. He matched Grigorian for warmth and pleasantness of phrasing and timbre (Pinkerton isn’t called upon to provide much in the way of emotional nuance), but was a shade underpowered in the face of the Orchestra of the Royal Opera House in full cry. Conductor Kevin John Edusei led his troops well when it came to big Puccinian swell, but the orchestral performance proved rather less interesting in the quieter passages and was somewhat scrappy in the faster or more cheerful episodes, including the opera’s opening.