Review: Despite promise, Santa Fe Opera’s M. Butterfly is a letdown

SANTA FE, N.M. — In an age of reckoning around race and ethnicity, Puccini’s Madame Butterfly is facing greater scrutiny. Composed by an Italian with little knowledge of American or Japanese cultures, it is rife with crude caricatures and colonialist attitudes. But because of its memorable tunes and easy-to-follow love story, it remains a fixture in the repertory.

As a response to the opera, composer Huang Ruo and librettist David Henry Hwang teamed up in M. Butterfly, premiered July 30 at the Santa Fe Opera, which commissioned the work. An adaptation of Hwang’s Tony Award-winning play of the same name, itself turned into a 1993 movie, it’s based on a true story. The plot appears to lend itself well to opera. But the experience — at least on opening night — was a letdown.

René Gallimard, a French diplomat in Maoist China, falls for Song Liling, a Chinese opera performer in drag, when he hears him singing an aria from Madame Butterfly at a party. Gallimard shares secrets about the Vietnam War with Song, who relays them to the communist regime. After being tried and convicted for espionage, Gallimard transforms into Madame Butterfly, wearing a kimono, wig and white facial makeup, and, in a reversal of Puccini’s ending, kills himself with a knife.

Rooted in tonality, Huang’s neoromantic language is hampered by a limited harmonic palette. Gallimard and Song often have similar music — meandering legato lines sung passionately. This grows tiring over the course of three acts, lasting about two and a half hours, plus intermission.

Huang provides variety, though, in Chinese-influenced music for Song and the fearsome People’s Liberation Army, singing Maoist slogans. Song also performs several excerpts from Madame Butterfly. In the final scene, Huang has Gallimard perform some of Song’s Chinese-influenced music and a snippet from Madame Butterfly, showing his metamorphosis into Puccini’s eponymous heroine.

The orchestral music in the Chinese episodes is the most engaging and colorful, with animated rhythms and clattering Chinese percussion. But the rest of the orchestral writing is often simple and bland, reliant on minimalist chuggings — particularly in the first act — and atmospheric effects. Dissonant orchestral climaxes explode at the ends of some sections, but they feel arbitrary, not woven into the context of the score.

To compound matters, James Robinson’s production lacked energy. Acting was often static, with singers just standing and delivering their lines. The chemistry between Gallimard and Song was virtually nonexistent.

Production highlights were provided by Seán Curran’s choreographies, which alternated between striking, athletic movements and fluidly elegant ones, but were sometimes distracting when accompanying singers. Allen Moyer’s functional sets efficiently facilitated scene changes, from Song’s apartment to Gallimard’s office and his jail cell. Greg Emetaz’s projections were complementary, displaying images of New York Times headlines, Mao Zedong and the Eiffel Tower.

The chorus, representing gossipy partygoers, was wheeled in and out in giant boxes, limiting their movements and making it hard to tell that they were actually at a party. But their musical contributions were well-prepared by Susanne Sheston. Lighting by Christopher Akerlind effectively underscored important moments, and James Schuette supplied a dazzling array of costumes.

Considering the constraints of the score, both leads performed admirably, even if they weren’t the most potent. Baritone Mark Stone as Gallimard snarled when confronting Song, but also offered tender reflections, his voice blooming up high. As Song, Kangmin Justin Kim used his versatile countertenor to trace his character’s development from meek to forceful. It was devastating to see him walk away from Gallimard’s dead body in the end, as if putting the whole affair behind him.

The standout from the cast was Kevin Burdette, whose hearty bass boomed and blustered in the role of French ambassador Manuel Toulon. Marc, a womanizer and childhood friend of Gallimard’s, was rendered suitably sleazy by tenor Joshua Dennis. Mezzo-soprano Hongni Wu was ruthless as Comrade Chin, a Communist Party cadre.

Conductor Carolyn Kuan led with clear and concise gestures, assiduously cuing singers and orchestral musicians. Repeating rhythms could have been crisper, though, and tempos sometimes felt sluggish, as if for rehearsal. Coordination issues among the orchestra members will likely improve in later performances.

Details

The Santa Fe Opera festival runs through Aug. 27. For information and tickets, call 1-800-280-4654 or visit santafeopera.org.

UPDATED at 8:40 p.m. Aug. 1 to clarify the performance’s running time.