Gerard Mortier, the director of the Paris National Opera, has said he will focus on contemporary works when he becomes general manager and artistic director of the New York City Opera next year. Though Puccini will presumably not remain in the spotlight on Mr. Mortier’s watch, there may still be room for Mark Lamos’s strikingly elegant, spare production of “Madama Butterfly,” which returned to the New York State Theater on Thursday.
The centerpieces of Michael Yeargan’s tastefully minimalist sets are large sliding screens and stagewide stairs, enhanced by evocative touches like a kimono placed on one side of the stage. Robert Wierzel’s sophisticated lighting adds drama and nuance.
The Chinese soprano Shu-Ying Li was convincing and vocally impressive as Cio-Cio-San, the naïve teenage wife of Pinkerton, a callous United States Navy lieutenant. She was sweet and timid at first, patient and hopeful throughout her husband’s long absence and finally distraught on learning the truth of his unfaithfulness. Her strong, clear, expressive voice easily penetrated Puccini’s lush orchestration.
Initially cocky and then remorseful as the swaggering Pinkerton, James Valenti sang with ardent vigor, although his tenor didn’t always project. He also appeared stiff at times, assuming stock poses. Jennifer Tiller was effective as Suzuki, Cio-Cio-San’s maid, protective and anguished on behalf of her mistress.
Michael Chioldi sang well as the prescient Sharpless, and the smaller roles were also aptly portrayed, including Jeffrey Picón’s Goro. Steven Mosteller conducted a lively, bristling reading with energetically sweeping climaxes.
The only questionable idea in this otherwise admirable production is the use of a flag motif. It seems silly, for example, to have Cio-Cio-San drape Sorrow (her son with Pinkerton) in a robe resembling an American flag, and the gesture drew giggles from the audience.
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Sorrow has a more fully choreographed role than usual in this production. Tyler Christopher Backer’s winning performance proved that a real, vibrant child is always preferable to a puppet, even one as expertly manipulated as that in Anthony Minghella’s beautiful production at the Metropolitan Opera.
Because of the boy’s vital role as an inquisitive, romping little character instead of the merely symbolic pawn (either wooden or human) he often is, Cio-Cio-San’s love for her son felt particularly real, and the terrible loss facing them both all the more devastating.
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