Audiences for Seattle Opera’s Sunday matinee performances of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly (one left, May 20; tickets) have been greeted with yet another instance of General Director Speight Jenkins’s almost unerring ear for new voices with new life to give to classic roles. Ausrine Stundyte, singing Cio-Cio-San, is a Lithuanian soprano (now living in Cologne). You pronounce it: “oh-shuh-REE-neh STOON-dee-teh.”
The most striking element of her Butterfly, besides the fact that you are hearing her first U.S. performances in the role, is the way Stundyte employs pianissimo to shade the character. It is not easy, actually, to sing very softly to the back seats of a 3,000-seat hall, but Stundyte delivered her notes, as if gift-wrapped, to the second balcony, where my seat was.
It means her version of “Un bel di” is often less anthemic than a feverishly whispered dream of her sailor’s return, though Stundyte is certainly capable of letting her voice swell in size. Because she is not a tiny Japanese girl, Stundyte lets pianissimi do the job of expressing demureness, shyness, as Pinkerton seduces her; later, it signifies her detachment from a harsher reality. Her Pinkerton Nathaniel Peake, sings beautifully, with power, but he’s too much the fresh-faced young American to sell you on the frat boy or playa ethos that is where that damaged, bluff character lives.
In an interview, Stundyte recounts how she came to discover the hidden depths to Butterfly:
I was surprised by how wonderfully it’s written, how true it is, and how nothing is cold or kitsch or empty. Everything is so psychological, and the character of Butterfly is nothing like I thought. I always thought she was naïve, like a child, but she actually has such great development.
That has to be part of Butterfly’s enduring success from generation to generation, that rediscovery of this anti-romantic “romantic” opera, its focus on the hardships of the single mother, which regretfully are so easily culturally transportable. Jenkins has a great line in his program notes where he speaks of the Italian core of Cio-Cio-San–opera is mostly predicated on our having an Italian soul (at least temporarily, in the theatre) that can commune with what we see and hear.
In Stundyte’s telling, you come to see the steely resistance to Butterfly–she moves from predicament to predicament, hoping for the best, but uncompromising. Her decision to die like a warrior, in this context, is still tragic, but also transgressive for an ex-geisha. Only someone who has honor to lose kills themself to save face.
I have a history with Madama Butterfly. To be honest, I have a history with Opera In General, which tends to color my opinions. And my opinion of Butterfly was that I didn’t like it so much. Okay, actually, I love–love–the music; it’s the story I’m not so fond of. So I went into Seattle Opera’s Madama Butterfly (through May 20; tickets) with a bit of a pre-formed opinion. For shame! Bernard Jacobson and I have learned a beautiful lesson.
I was blown away. This production was one of the best I’ve ever seen at Seattle Opera, and was definitely the best production of Butterfly I’ve ever seen. A simple raked stage, six shoji screens, beautiful lighting from Duane Schuler, and a gorgeously painted backdrop added up to a lush view that only served to enhance the singers and the music.
It was just so relatable! Many productions strive to be relatable, but many fail. It takes how long to die, and you’re singing the whole time? You really fell in love with your brother? Wait–you’re pretending to be that guy? But you guys don’t even look alike! It is the music that always saves opera’s crazy stories, yet it’s the music that sometimes is shunted away from the core of a new production.
But in Seattle Opera’s Madama Butterfly, the singing, the singers, and the music stay squarely center stage. And the singing in this production was glorious. Patricia Racette played Butterfly (or Cio-Cio-San) with grace, joy, and humanity, using all parts of her voice for dramatic effect. She is a consummate artist, and was in lovely voice on Saturday. She’s one of the bigger-voiced Cio-Cio-Sans I’ve heard, and had a nice warmth and depth from the top to the bottom.
As I joked to my friends on Sunday, many tenors think they can sing the role of Pinkerton, and few can. Italian Stefano Secco is one of the guys who can actually do it. His Pinkerton was a nuanced cad, and his high notes were beautiful. Sarah Larson, a Seattle Opera Young Artist, played Suzuki, and her relationship to Racette’s Cio-Cio-San was believable. Her performance had maturity and depth. She is well worth watching as her career takes off.
As Sharpless, Canadian Brett Polegato stole my heart. Between his adorable spats (the footwear, not the arguments) and his distinguished manner, I was wrapped around his little finger. (You can give me terrible and life-altering news any day, Sharpless!) He was the voice of reason in this production, and I could have listened to him all day.
The sparse set (from Canadian Opera) was filled in with enough detail that it didn’t feel too empty: it was a suggestion of a room and a garden. Director Peter Kazaras staged the show cleanly and clearly. Nothing felt extraneous, and everything, even some of the stylized hand gestures, felt organic. The Flower Duet comes together particularly well, between the music and the delightful pink flower petals.
In short, go see it! I laughed, and man! did I cry.
Seattle Opera at KeyArena: A view from the stands (Photo: Bill Mohn)
On Saturday night, seats at Seattle Opera‘s McCaw Hall filled with opera-goers eagerly anticipating the opening night performance of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly. Meanwhile, on the other side of the Seattle Center campus, 5,000 [5,126 to be precise–ed.] fans streamed into KeyArena to experience the same event, broadcast live in HD.
Saturday’s simulcast is part of a nationwide spate of outreach efforts seeking to bring opera to a wider audience. San Francisco Opera, Washington National Opera, and Dallas Opera have hosted similar events, drawing crowds as large as 16,000.
The combination of world-class singing, high-tech wizardry, and free tickets seems to be winning over an opera-curious public, attracting those who might not otherwise attend a live opera performance. Public response to Saturday’s simulcast has been overwhelmingly positive. Will simulcasts catch on and become a mainstay of the opera world? Is the simulcast experience even worthwhile, or is it better to catch the show at the opera house?
Three friends and I attended last night’s simulcast with these questions in mind. All four of us have seen operas at McCaw Hall in the past and were unsure if the simulcast experience would compare. (Another friend decided not to come along because the idea of watching an opera on a screen was not as appealing as seeing it “in real life”).
Although nothing can replace the experience of attending a live production in an opera house, watching a broadcast of the show in a cavernous sports arena has a unique appeal of its own. Here are six reasons why Seattle Opera’s simulcast scored big in my book.
#1. You can leave the opera glasses at home.
When the screen is fifty feet tall, everyone in the audience feels like they’re sitting in the front row. It’s thrilling to get up close and personal with some of the world’s greatest operatic talents. The big screen view offers an opportunity to appreciate the singers’ acting skills and admire the gorgeous costumes and makeup. Though vital, these aspects of the performance aren’t always visible in the opera house, especially to those in the back rows. Subtle nuances in the facial expressions and body language of the singers added extra depth to Madama Butterfly‘s emotional intensity, something my friends and I would have missed had we been sitting in McCaw Hall’s nosebleed section.
#2. Crystal-clear audio and visuals.
The technical aspects of Saturday’s simulcast were nearly flawless. Live editing between multiple cameras ensured that the KeyArena audience always had the best view of the action, even offering a few glimpses into the orchestra pit. The sound quality was generally excellent as well.
#3. You get to sip and munch during your favorite arias.
How many opera houses allow audience members to drink alcohol during performances? Sure, booze is served during intermission, but what if you want to tip back a cold one while the Queen of the Night is hitting those impossibly high notes? Most opera simulcasts are held at sports arenas or ballparks, meaning that snacks and beverages are served during the entire event. So grab a bottomless tub of popcorn and enjoy the operatic action.
#4. Street clothes are the norm.
Granted, I sometimes wear jeans and a t-shirt to opera performances at McCaw Hall. Despite popular misconception, wearing jeans to the opera is perfectly acceptable here in Seattle. (In fact, the opera dress code is probably less strict than some expensive nightclubs). However, many people still choose to dress up when attending a performance at the opera house. At a simulcast, there’s no need to worry about what to wear. It’s in a sports arena, after all.
#5. It’s free.
Opera is plagued by a serious image problem. It’s stereotyped as elitist, exclusive, and snooty. In reality, the cost of attending an opera production is no more than a ticket to a sporting event, musical, or rock concert. Often, it’s not the ticket prices that give potential ticket-buyers pause — it’s their perception of opera that discourages them from giving it a try.
Free simulcasts open the world of opera to everyone, giving people from all walks of life the chance to experience this oft-misunderstood art form. They’re fantastic outreach events, providing an opportunity for opera companies to win thousands of fans in a single evening. Most importantly, they chip away at stereotypes.
Opera, like all art, should be accessible to everyone. It’s a lofty goal, perhaps far on the horizon, but events like simulcasts are helping us get there.
Angela Davis-Gardner and Peter Kazaras in Seattle Opera's rehearsal studio
Last week, I had the privilege of interviewing Peter Kazaras, director of Seattle Opera’s Madama Butterfly (sold out opening & Key Arena simulcast tonight), and Angela Davis-Gardner, author of the book Butterfly’s Child. Or rather, I had the privilege of sitting in as they interviewed each other. Sometimes, as Kazaras says, you have to know when to get out of the way!
Peter Kazaras is both a singer–he’s a tenor–and a director, both the Director of Opera at UCLA and the Artistic Director of Seattle Opera’s Young Artist Program. Angela Davis-Gardner is the author of four books, and is quite knowledgeable about Japan, having taught there at the beginning of her own career. Butterfly’s Child is her second book set in Japan, and, as you may have surmised, is a continuation of the opera. It’s a study of familial relationships (for instance, what’s it like to raise the kid your husband had with another lady?), and is a well-told and richly imagined story in its own right. It’s a book well worth seeking out, especially if you enjoy the opera.
Kazaras and Davis-Gardner, who had previously never met, got on famously. That’s why they ended up playing the opera version of “Shoot, Screw, or Marry.”
PK: The book [Butterfly’s Child] just came out this year, right? ADG: It came out a year ago, 2011. PK: Is this the first production of Madama Butterfly that you’ve been involved with? ADG: Yes. I’ve listened to Butterfly over and over and over again since I was a teenager, and I listened all the time I was working, very intensely, to different productions, but yes, this is the first one. PK: We’re doing a production that we first did in 1995, but we’re doing our own thing with it–it is extremely spare. That’s its real strength, there aren’t a lot of bells and whistles. It’s about what the characters are doing, and I have to say, in my typical persistent, patient style–all the things I was not as a performer but you have to be as a director, you know–we’re really working with them on moment-to-moment-to-moment. What has he really said here, what has she really said here, why are you reacting that way? Not to say that doesn’t happen in other productions, but when that’s all you’ve got going on, you really want to make sure that stuff is clean.
ADG: And the spareness allows more of that to come through. Also it feels very Japanese, and contemporary. PK: That’s right. I wanted to complement you on one thing about the book. A lot of people have said, “Oh, it’s like a page-turner,” and I have to say I found it exactly the opposite. I made it take me a long time, because I found it sort of like a picaresque novel– ADG: Yes, it is–- PK: And it’s Dickensian-– ADG: Thank you! PK: I mean, I wouldn’t dream of speed-reading Bleak House, and with this, it wasn’t like I had to finish it all in one night. I made it last a good long time. ADG: I’m so glad, that’s a great compliment. And that you thought it was Dickensian is great. PK: Well, it came from the era. ADG: Yes. And that was one sort of novel I read so much when I was young, and it was sort of an instinctive feeling to write that kind of book.
PK: Do you know the game shoot, screw, or marry? ADG: No, I don’t. PK: You have to be careful in how you describe this to someone…There are many metaphysical implications of this game. For instance, well, name three classic male movie stars. ADG: Jack Nicholson, Paul Newman, and Clint Eastwood. PK: Okay, shoot, screw, or marry? Which one do you shoot because you don’t need him? Which one do you want to have a passionate affair with-– ADG: Oh, Nicholson. I’ll s-sh-– PK: Shoot. ADG: Well–hmm… PK: Oh, there you go! Do you really want to wake up every morning with that next to you? That’s the thing! ADG: All right, I guess I’d shoot him. PK: You know you’d screw Clint Eastwood and marry Paul Newman. You had to marry Paul Newman! All right, so you then could say, okay, Wagner, Verdi, Puccini–very interesting. ADG: Right. What do you say? PK: I don’t know, that’s a hard one for me. ADG: You love Wagner–you’re about to do The Ring. PK: Yes, I know, but the thing is–in terms of personality? Shoot Wagner. Without question! Puccini, affair; marry Verdi. ADG: Me too! PK: Because he was a great guy. And Puccini was sort of tormented, but darkly sexy…So. If I were playing shoot, screw, or marry with the big three Puccini operas, there’s no doubt in my mind that I would shoot Tosca, because–give me a break. On the other hand, [La] Bohème is a part of one’s life because it is just in one’s DNA, it is perfect, it is great, and you have to live with it. But man, do I want to screw Butterfly.
PK:…I just have to say, you are also Dickensian in the way that you allow for the possibility of redemption [in the book]. ADG: That was really important to me. When I got to the point in the story where I realized that the opera is sweeping the country in 1906, 1907– PK: Brilliant! ADG: I thought, well, what am I going to do? It was a real problem for me as a novelist. Here are these Pinkertons, walking around, and surely someone would go to the opera and say, “Hey!” PK: So was that based on the actual Chicago premiere? ADG: It was. I found out when the actual premiere was at the Met, and then it swept the country– PK: So when was the first production at the Met? ADG: 1906, with Geraldine Farrar. PK: And [Enrico] Caruso. ADG: Right. So I got [to this point], and I thought, “My novel is either over, or I’ve got to incorporate this.” So that was the hardest part of the novel–what to do? PK: Brilliant. And it also gave you a great reason to get them out of where they were. ADG: Get them out, and also give Pinkerton a chance for redemption. And that was my favorite scene to write, with him at the opera, seeing the opera. PK: Fantastic. It was great. Brilliant scene. ADG: I’m so glad you liked it. Thank you. PK: How did you get the big idea? ADG: There was a performance of Madama Butterfly at North Carolina Opera, and I went with a friend of mine who also loves opera. She turned and said to me, “I wonder what happened to Butterfly’s child?” And I thought, “Oh my God, that’s my next book.” I had just finished a book set in Japan, I know the culture quite well, and it just fascinated me: the quest, the complications of the family. The first problem I had to solve was, what were Kate’s motivations? And Pinkerton’s? And how would it be to live in a family with your husband’s mistress’s son? As a novelist, my main interest is relationships between people, and in families particularly. And also, I was very interested in the opera: the genesis of it, and the story, and how I might tweak it a bit.
PK: You really did try to make all the details of this as accurate as possible, it seems. What sorts of research did you do? ADG: In Nagasaki, I talked to a man who’s written a history of Butterfly, and what’s accurate and what’s not. Of course I did a lot of research about the genesis of the opera. I had a Japan Foundation research grant to go there, and my former students guided me around and interpreted. They arranged a geisha party, where I was the guest of honor. Now, this is quite unheard of, for a woman to be the guest of honor at a geisha party. One of the geishas spoke fluent English, and I was able to ask her any question at all about geisha life. PK: This is not a Japanese production, but it’s very important to me, in terms of the way some of the music is composed, that there is a movement vocabulary that needs to be observed. A certain serenity and joy that you need to start with. But I’m wondering, did you ever have the moment where you asked a question and a room full of people suddenly turned away from you [as happens in Act I of Butterfly]? ADG: Yes. PK: Oh my goodness! ADG: Yes, well, the first question I asked like that was to my students–I went to Japan loving the opera, and we were sitting around one day, and I thought, “Well, this will be a good question,” and I said, “Have you seen the opera Madama Butterfly? What do you think of it?” One of them later said, “We don’t like that opera.” They love the music, but hate the story. PK: Do they hate the story because of cultural inaccuracies? ADG: I think it has to do with the power between Japan and America, for one thing– PK: Especially in Nagasaki. ADG: And our history. That’s a big part of it. But also, it was the characterization of Butterfly, which offends them. Because she’s presented as a geisha, and a geisha would not fall in love with Pinkerton. A courtesan might have fallen for him and taken advantage of him, but a geisha wouldn’t have put herself in that position. Not unless Pinkerton had been in the city for a long, long time, and had a real sense of the culture. PK: Fascinating.
ADG: Did you internalize your first experience of Butterfly [as a tenor singing the role of Pinkerton] in your directing? PK: I did internalize some experience, and that’s the experience of the music. For me, body plastique is extremely important. The way you use your body, your body language, the way you mould your body to the situation, and when it is appropriate to go with the music, and when it is sometimes appropriate to resist the music. …I’m always dealing with how people hold themselves. When you direct, your job is to get everyone on the same page. I’m not particularly interested in dictating every move. I want to see what they’re going to do, and then we’ll find the things that are right. ADG: What alterations or considerations do you have to make [for the simulcast]? PK: Here’s the thing. My job as a director, as I said, is to get everyone on the same page, and then to know when to get the hell out of the way. We’ve thought about times when it would be nice to get everyone lined up in a shot, but mostly I haven’t done anything that I wouldn’t do [otherwise]. The one thing that doesn’t work is a blank screen, and there’s that 8 and a half minutes at the beginning of Act III. If you’re doing an intermission, you can come back, start with the curtain down, and raise it when the sun comes up, as Puccini indicates. But we are doing Act II and Act III together – ADG: That’s how it originally was. PK: Exactly. So I thought, What are we going to do? …And we actually have a whole choreographed thing for [Butterfly], and it really goes by fast, and it’s beautiful. It’s character-driven. It’s movement, based on her emotion, and the story, and what we’ve seen. She does certain things that we’ve seen happen to her. ADG: You can’t imagine how thrilled I am to see it. It’s like I’ve been dropped into the middle of a novel that I didn’t even imagine could have happened. Thank you.
