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Saioa, the Proud Geisha Barcelona
Teatro Liceu
12/08/2024 - & December 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17*, 20, 21, 22, 23, 27, 28, 2024
Giacomo Puccini : Madama Butterfly
Sonya Yoncheva/Saioa Hernández*/Ailyn Perez (Cio‑Cio San), Annalisa Stroppa/Teresa Iervolino*/Gemma Coma‑Alabert (Suzuki), Matthew Polenzani/Fabio Sartori*/Celso Albelo (B.F. Pinkerton), Lucas Meacham/Thomas Mayer*/Gerardo Bullón (Sharpless), Juan Noval-Moro/Pablo García-López* (Goro), Carlos Cosías (Il principe Yamadori), Montserrat Seró (Kate Pinkerton), David Lagares (Lo zio bonzo), Miguel Rosales*/Lucas Groppo (Yakuside, L’ufficiale del registro), Plamen Papazikov*/Dimitar Darlev (Il commissario imperiale), Helena Zaborowska*/Alexandra Zabala (La madre di Cio‑Cio San), Mariel Fontes/Gloria López* (La zia), Rachel Lucena/Aina Martín* (La cugina)
Coro del Gran Teatro del Liceu, Pablo Assante (Chorus Master), Orquesta Sinfónica del Gran Teatre del Liceu, Paolo Bortolameolli (conductor)
Moshe Leiser & Patrice Caurier (Stage Directors), Christian Fenouillat (Sets), Agostino Cavalca (Costumes), Christophe Forey (Lighting)
S. Hernández (© David Ruano)
Of Puccini’s most frequently performed operas (Manon Lescaut, La Bohème, Tosca, Madama Butterfly and Turandot), Madama Butterfly is the opera that has fared the poorest over time, in terms of posterity. The “Orientalist” view of the victimized Asian girl was not considered patronizing at the time of the opera’s creation, but times have changed. Even after European countries lost their colonial empires in Africa and Asia, this outdated view prevailed for much of the second half of the twentieth century. The Korean and Vietnam Wars continued to confirm this cultural distortion. However, these ideas are markedly dated in the early twenty first century, with China imminently displacing the U.S. as the world’s leading economy, and with other Asian powers enjoying more sophistication and technological advances than North America and Europe, who are trapped by stagnant economies, declining demographics and faltering infrastructures.
Moshe Leiser & Patrice Caurier’s conventional staging of Butterfly was aesthetically pleasing but not innovative, though with Saioa Hernández as Cio‑Cio San, there was a twist, possibly her own rather than the directors, as she’s one of three sopranos appearing in this fifteen‑performance run.
I first heard Hernández early last year in Bretón’s La Dolores in Madrid after hearing positive comments from impressed friends. I too was completely captivated and have made a point of seeing her whenever possible. She was dazzling as Abigaille in Nabucco in Geneva last season and spectacular as Turandot in Venice earlier this year. Though I have heard Madama Butterfly all too often and it is not a favourite, I was determined to hear her as Cio‑Cio San, a role I wouldn’t normally associate with Hernández.
Madrid-born Hernández is an outstanding lirico spinto, and Cio‑Cio San is a role for lyric soprano. Moreover, Hernández is a tall woman, unlikely to convince as the frail geisha. Unsurprisingly, given her immense talent, both vocally and dramatically, she convinced with a very personal interpretation that made the opera infinitely more interesting. Hernández attempted no nasal child‑voice as the legendary Toti dal Monte (1893‑1975) famously did in her recording of the role. Without feigning an over delicate voice, she lightened her spinto voice in Act I, where she is a fifteen-year-old nubile bride. It was more fragile, but still her authentic voice. The ethereal offstage voice as she climbs the hill to her new home in procession with family and friends was effective but not as ethereal as lyric sopranos who have personified the role. These include Raina Kabaivanska, Renata Scotto, Mirella Ferni, Fiorenza Cedolins and more recently Ermonela Jaho.
In the second and third acts, the abandoned child bride has matured. Hernández’s lirico spinto is more appropriate here. She was effective dramatically throughout the opera. Even in Act I, though young and docile, her stern recoiling from her groom, Pinkerton, as he touched the dagger, with which her dishonoured father had committed hara‑kiri, indicated a strong‑willed young woman, not a submissive geisha. That strength transpired throughout the performance, in the way she put off both matchmaker Goro and languishing admirer Yamadori. Likewise, she firmly rebuked the American Consul Sharpless and her servant Suzuki for not showing faith in Pinkerton’s return. In her Act II exchange with Sharpless, she astounded in her phrasing of “Troppa luce è di fior, e troppa primavera,” when she realizes Pinkerton isn’t coming back. When Pinkerton’s American bride enters her home and speaks to her, directors Leiser and Caurier brilliantly had Cio‑Cio San address Kate Pinkerton not face to face, but with her back to her.
Needless to say, Hernández’s Act II emblematic aria, “Un bel dì”, was the highlight of the evening both vocally and dramatically. The enthusiastic public was almost hysterical in their applause. The aria’s subtle variation in expression from beginning to end displayed a winning synchronicity between the soprano and dynamic Chilean-Italian conductor Paolo Bortolameolli.
The psychological portrait was well drawn by the directors and by Hernández, so that when she commits hara‑kiri with her father’s dagger, it’s not an act of despair but rather of honour and self‑respect. While this may be contrary to Western sensibilities, it’s in keeping with cultures who do not value life at any price.
By emphasizing Cio-Cio San’s dignity and pride, Pinkerton’s cowardice is accentuated. Italy’s Fabio Sartori was an appropriate choice as the American. Admired earlier this season in Tosca and Verdi’s Messa da Requiem in Parma, Sartori is an excellent tenor, blessed with a warm and strong middle register. Despite his sturdy voice, Sartori can easily soar in the upper register, singing brightly and with great beauty. However, his acting is limited and he lacks agility onstage. Happily, these weaknesses do not hinder his role. They reinforce Pinkerton’s spineless character and his cowardice. His rendition of the Act III aria, “Addio fiorito assil”, was beautifully sung. He was less convincing in the glorious Act I love duet, “Bimba dagli occhi pieni di malìa”, though his voice blended well with Hernández’s.
The love duet, which lasted roughly twenty minutes, built up – con dolcezza – to its erotic pre‑coital finale thanks to Paolo Bortolameolli’s masterful conducting. Even the usually dull orchestral interlude between Acts II and III, when many look at their watches, was riveting.
Teresa Iervolino was a dramatically efficient Suzuki. Given Hernández’s heavier spinto, Iervolino’s light mezzo was not the best choice. However, it blended well with Hernández’s voice. She portrayed a devoted servant and friend. In the final act, her premonition of Cio‑Cio San’s choice was poignantly expressed by her terrified look and awkward running out of the room.
German baritone Thomas Mayer was a sympathetic Sharpless. His dignified manner contrasted with Pinkerton’s brutish deportment. He portrayed a sympathetic and avuncular American Consul, thus making this glorified pimp seem likeable and compassionate.
The smaller roles were well‑sung and acted, especially Pablo García‑López as the matchmaker Goro. He was appropriately slimy and played the overly eager pimp with aplomb. His costume, a hybrid between Japanese and Western attire, was sartorially appropriate.
Set designer Christian Fenouillat employed the usual Japanese casetta with sliding panels. It was used to great effect in Act I to show period photography of Nagasaki’s harbour. During the love duet, the panels opened to reveal a sensual, nocturnal floral background. In Act III, during Cio‑Cio San’s duet with Suzuki, the panels are lifted, one at a time, to show different styles of gardens, all Japanese save for a European rose garden. This was a clin d’œil to the Japanese woman’s eagerness to adopt aspects of her husband’s culture.
Leiser & Caurier used shadow theatre for much of Kate Pinkerton’s appearance in Act III. This rendered her appropriately ominous. Christophe Forey’s lighting was effective, from the gradual darkening during Act I’s love duet, to the darkening of Cio‑Cio San’s home when she understands her doomed fate of abandonment. In the latter case, it was almost chilling, and made Cio‑Cio San’s suicide truly poignant and dramatic.
I still am no fan of Madama Butterfly, but for once I was happy to see a Cio‑Cio San with character, rather than a docile creature seemingly eager to play victim. Thank you Saioa!
Ossama el Naggar
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