George Hall 

Madam Butterfly review – Puccini’s tragedy hits home hard

With a Japanese water garden and a see-through marital home, this production excels in a challenging space. writes George Hall
  
  

… James Edwards and Nam-Young Kim in Madam Butterfly.
Sheer lyric beauty … James Edwards and Nam-Young Kim in Madam Butterfly. Photograph: Tristram Kenton Photograph: Tristram Kenton

The Royal Albert Hall was not conceived with operatic performance in mind, so it is all the more to the credit of designer David Roger and director David Freeman that Puccini’s tearjerker – once again revived in their staging first presented in 1998 – works so well in what is an intrinsically challenging space.

It helps that all three acts of Madam Butterfly take place in the same location – the house Lieutenant Pinkerton rents for his Japanese bride in a marriage that is, for him, purely temporary – but, from all perspectives, Puccini’s Japanese tragedy of cultural and sexual imperialism hits home hard.

Roger’s basic set places the marital home in the centre of the hall, and surrounds it with a Japanese water garden. It is a beautiful construct, while the see-through nature of the house allows the audience to witness events internal as well as external, sometimes simultaneously. Suzuki’s loving preparation of her mistress’s marriage bed in the first act, for instance, is touchingly realised by Catherine Hopper – one of three performers essaying the role in this triple-cast production – while Korean soprano Nam-Young Kim and tenor James Edwards provide the main dramatic thrust with their powerfully sung love duet in the foreground. Hopper’s watchfulness and concern for Butterfly’s well-being and even survival, meanwhile, are skilfully charted throughout: her rich and rounded mezzo sounds consistently warm and fleshy.

Freeman also places small and unobtrusive vignettes of local activity on the edges of the arena, reminding us that life goes on all around while the direst personal tragedy is being played out in the centre. At times, the two are allowed to intermingle. Scarcely noticeable at one corner of the garden as the opera begins, three Japanese priests are performing their religious rituals. Later in the act, one of the three – sung and acted with tremendous authority by Michael Druiett – rises up and turns out to be Cio-Cio-San’s uncle, the Bonze, striding into her wedding reception like the wrath of God; Freeman shows us the embarrassed obeisance made by the guests, caught celebrating the sacrilegious marriage of an apostate.

It is the richness of such detail that fleshes out what could have been, given the circumstances, a broad-brush approach, but which turns out to be considerably more focused than that. Butterfly’s violent rejection of the Stars and Stripes when she realises her betrayal by Pinkerton is inevitably followed by her wrapping it around her son – skilfully performed by William Parsons – to prevent him from seeing her kill herself.

Kim’s Butterfly seizes attention on her entrance with the sheer lyric beauty of her tone as it rises out of the female chorus. Thereafter. she maintains a similar quality, even when her voice comes under pressure. Equally, she looks the part and acts it confidently.

So does Edwards as Pinkerton, his beefy tone fleshing out the US sailor’s blend of brash and callow. Wyn Pencarreg is a full-toned, sympathetic Sharpless, Julius Ahn is the busy cultural go-between Goro, Seungwook Seong portrays a dignified Yamadori and Lise Christensen is an achingly sad Kate Pinkerton.

The production is discreetly amplified, never to the detriment of the singers’ tones, but arguably muffling some of the consonants of Amanda Holden’s canny English translation. The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra provides the musical underpinning, with conductor Oliver Gooch approaching the score with a blend of command and flexibility, and never short-changing the grand emotional climaxes.

• Until March 15. Box office: 0845 401 5034. Venue: Royal Albert Hall, London.

 

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