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The Lyric Opera took an approach to Madame Butterfly that was both graceful and honest. The new production, which ran from November 14th through the 16th at the Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts, treated Puccini’s controversial subject matter with subtlety and even restraint, but it did not shy away from the topics of patriarchy, imperialism, and culture-clash that make the opera’s outcome so jarring. 

Based on a short story and a French novel, both partly biographical, the libretto by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa sets up an impossible predicament which—we divine early on—cannot possibly reach a satisfying conclusion. When Pinkerton declares in Act I that despite his semiformal marriage to Butterfly he will “someday take a real American wife,” we know that no good can come from this situation. 

But the story that Puccini tells is riveting, and the opera contains some of his most irresistible music. No matter how many times you see Butterfly, the ending is a gut-punch (“I’m not crying, you’re crying”)—its impact growing from the melding of musical drama with elements of danger, frustration, fragility, and passion. The ferociously emotional final act rushes headlong in a cataclysmic finale. 

“Puccini allows tenderness and devastation to inhabit the same breath,” writes conductor Roberto Kalb in the program book, “so that when the climaxes arrive, they feel not written but inevitable.” (The Lyric joined with three other companies—Houston Grand Opera, Grand Théâtre de Genève, and Lyric Opera of Chicago—for this extravagant co-production, which includes an elegant set built by Houston crews.) 

E. Loren Meeker’s stage direction felt natural and clear-eyed: Spare gestures gave the viewer time to reflect on the narrative and on each character’s inner turmoil. This quietness was enhanced by Christopher Oram’s muted set design: a traditional Japanese Minka–style house, lanterns and tree-silhouettes upstage, and a huge, curved ramp linking the outside world above to that of Butterfly and her maid, Suzuki, downstage. 

Driscoll Otto’s masterful lighting design provided layered textures that enhanced the characters’ shifting emotional states. In the transitional “interlude” between Acts II and III, for instance (the “Humming Chorus,” sung by a choir expertly trained by Piotr Wiśniewski), we could almost feel the hope drain out of Butterfly, as bluish night progressed to golden daylight.

The centerpiece of this production was soprano Yunuet Laguna’s infinitely detailed performance as Cio-Cio-San (Butterfly). With economy of movement and the most convincing of facial expressions, this Mexican-born soprano managed to encapsulate the whole range of emotions that a lovestruck teenager might experience—fear, resolve, naiveté, weirdness, jubilation, horror, and ultimately, profound sadness. “Un bel dì” shimmered with the hope and fervor of youth; Friday’s audience could not even wait until the end of the aria to begin its vigorous ovation. 

Vocally, too, Yunuet is ideally suited to the role: Rich and rounded, her voice glowed with energy and pathos, with colors and moods that shifted from hope to vulnerability and back again. When in Act III she began to realize that Pinkerton has returned not to be her husband, but instead to take away their son—as bewilderment turned to terror and then resolve, her response was so vivid that it felt as if it were happening to you. (The Lyric double-cast the title role, with Ann Toomey singing it on November 15th.) 

Matthew White, whose tenor is clean and sweet-toned, sang Pinkerton with bravado and a deliberate air of detached superiority—appropriate for a naval officer with a “girl in every port.” His is a somewhat lighter voice than Yunuet’s, and when they sang a due she tended to overpower him. Her duets with the magnificent mezzo-soprano Alice Chung (Suzuki), on the other hand, were captivating. Their voices and their dramatic sensibilities were so neatly aligned that one could almost imagine they were sisters. This rapport made for a gorgeously sync’d “Scuoti quella fronda” duet. 

Roberto Kalb led the orchestra with a feel for pacing and lush sound. Jarrod Ott sang the role of Sharpless with a luscious, sympathetic baritone. Spencer Hamlin was an aptly officious Goro, Alex Smith a stately Yamadori. Christian Simmons sang The Bonze with stolid strength, and mezzo-soprano Christina Grohowski, showing impressive composure, made us feel sorry for poor Kate Pinkerton, the “new American wife” who is just now seeing the mess she married into. 

It is atypical for an opera of this period to make the “romantic hero” into a cad—though a few examples do exist—and in fact in 1904 the creators of Butterfly struggled with just how unsympathetic a character Pinkerton should be. When audiences at the La Scala premiere were outraged at the “evil Pinkerton,” the authors tried to soften him around the edges—removing some of this Ugly American’s more offensive comments about Japanese culture and adding his remorseful final “Addio, fiorito asil.” 

Opera companies have continued to struggle with the controversial aspects of Butterfly. Audiences tend to recoil when it is revealed, early in Act I, that a naval officer is marrying a 15-year-old—and one he is not even sure he’s in love with. “Everywhere in the world, the roving Yankee takes his pleasure and his profit, indifferent to all risks,” he sings—in comments made all the more distasteful by the sounding of the “Star Spangled Banner” at this moment. Even if we believe he actually has fallen in love, his last-minute remorse fails to erase this appalling behavior. 

Some productions have attempted to make Butterfly more palatable by presenting Pinkerton as very young himself: Thus he and Butterfly are just two clueless teenagers in love à la Romeo and Juliet. Last year’s Houston Grand Opera version took an opposite approach: It made Butterfly older, cutting out the whole sequence in which she states she is 15. Patrick Summers, the HGO’s artistic and music director, wrote in the Houston program book that “the story is no less tragic if Cio-Cio-San is at least Pinkerton’s age—and the opera is no less of a searing drama without having a felony as its subject.” 

E. Loren Meeker, having thoroughly investigated the historical background of the opera, wanted to build a production that “honors the extraordinary beauty of Puccini’s work while engaging with its cultural challenges in a meaningful and respectful way.” Loren points out that the practice of taking temporary wives “was a widespread and heartbreaking reality, making Madame Butterfly a reflection of historical truths as well as artistic invention.” 

Toward engaging with the opera’s cross-cultural challenges, the Lyric hired Kevin Suzuki and Momo Suzuki as “movement directors and cultural advisors,” Loren said, “to ensure that our portrayal is well-informed.”

In the end, the Lyric opted to face Butterfly and its controversies head-on, but with sensitivity. They have pushed Pinkerton into the background, choosing instead to focus on the endlessly fascinating Cio-Cio-San. For despite her youth, she remains one of the strongest women in opera—true to her code, obstinate in her belief that Pinkerton will return, and honor-bound to take drastic measures if things go badly. 

Her undying love for Pinkerton, as frustrating as it might seem to us, is perhaps less about obsession than it is about dignity and principle: He is, after all, her husband! That she believes death to be her only viable option makes her fate all the more bitter. And that she believes her brutal sacrifice is the only way to lift her son out of poverty—makes her an almost inadvertent heroine. 

—By Paul Horsley

For information about upcoming Lyric Opera productions, call 816-471-7344 or go to kcopera.org. To reach Paul Horsley, performing arts editor, send an email to paul@kcindependent.com or find him on Facebook or X/Instagram (@phorsleycritic).