Tuesday, October 16, 2007
I went to see a revival of Mingella’s production of “Madama Butterfly” at the Met last night. It was thrilling: The potent combination of personal relevance, glorious singing, staging and visual effects created the elements for the perfect storm. It hit me like a ton of bricks.
For those that don’t know the story, Butterfly is selected by an American officer as his wife. She is 15. She falls deeply in love with him and renounces her religion and people to become an American wife. He then leaves Japan and promises to return (though never intends to).
I know it sounds cliche, but as the NY Times puts it: "On paper “Madama Butterfly” is an easy target: bathetic and filled with unashamed attempts at audience manipulation. In the flesh it is devastating. Puccini aims straight at your heart and defies your attempts to get out of the way."
The second act was where I completely lost my cool. As she waits for him to return, she tries to shrug off doubts from her friends, servants, and, of course, herself. This all comes to a chilling climax in the aria “Un Bel Di,” where Butterfly explains/demands to Suzuki that he will return. The music breaks into a fantasy-like melody while she imagines what they will say and how they will be reunited. Though the words of the aria are hopeful, the music eventually grows dark “He will come. He will come.” Then, full throat, she soars to the top of the soprano’s range, as though begging the heavens themselves by singing: “I, with secure faith, wait for him!” With that we know she's being torn apart.
His ship was spotted and they sit out and wait for him to come to the house. And it is there that they wait, and wait. Then the famed humming chorus begins and the three of them wait. The music and image were so powerful, and end the act. I’m sure we were all thinking why those fucking house lights had to come on so suddenly - to bring ourselves out of that hypnotic state. I needed more time, more time to collect myself.
We were so drawn in by Butterfly singing out her hopes, anger, frustration, and fear that when she saw the ship come in, the audience actually broke out into applause. It was weird. We all know the story, we all know why Pinkerton has returned and Butterfly’s fate, but the performance was so believable that we, still, no matter how many times we’d seen the opera, wanted it to turn out differently. We still care about Butterfly.
And this is why, after a century, it still sells out: We see a little bit of ourselves in her.
Bravas!!!!
The devastating death of Butterfly (innocence), performed by Patricia Racette in this marvelous production.
For those that don’t know the story, Butterfly is selected by an American officer as his wife. She is 15. She falls deeply in love with him and renounces her religion and people to become an American wife. He then leaves Japan and promises to return (though never intends to).
I know it sounds cliche, but as the NY Times puts it: "On paper “Madama Butterfly” is an easy target: bathetic and filled with unashamed attempts at audience manipulation. In the flesh it is devastating. Puccini aims straight at your heart and defies your attempts to get out of the way."
The second act was where I completely lost my cool. As she waits for him to return, she tries to shrug off doubts from her friends, servants, and, of course, herself. This all comes to a chilling climax in the aria “Un Bel Di,” where Butterfly explains/demands to Suzuki that he will return. The music breaks into a fantasy-like melody while she imagines what they will say and how they will be reunited. Though the words of the aria are hopeful, the music eventually grows dark “He will come. He will come.” Then, full throat, she soars to the top of the soprano’s range, as though begging the heavens themselves by singing: “I, with secure faith, wait for him!” With that we know she's being torn apart.
His ship was spotted and they sit out and wait for him to come to the house. And it is there that they wait, and wait. Then the famed humming chorus begins and the three of them wait. The music and image were so powerful, and end the act. I’m sure we were all thinking why those fucking house lights had to come on so suddenly - to bring ourselves out of that hypnotic state. I needed more time, more time to collect myself.
We were so drawn in by Butterfly singing out her hopes, anger, frustration, and fear that when she saw the ship come in, the audience actually broke out into applause. It was weird. We all know the story, we all know why Pinkerton has returned and Butterfly’s fate, but the performance was so believable that we, still, no matter how many times we’d seen the opera, wanted it to turn out differently. We still care about Butterfly.
And this is why, after a century, it still sells out: We see a little bit of ourselves in her.
Bravas!!!!
The devastating death of Butterfly (innocence), performed by Patricia Racette in this marvelous production.
# posted by otas : 1:17 PM
