Chisinau National Opera | New Theatre, Oxford, Fri 8th - Sat 9th December 2006
Chisinau is the capital city of Moldova, which is about the size of Wales, tucked away between Romania and the Ukraine, and is officially the poorest country in Europe in terms of income per capita. It is, therefore, pretty amazing that they have a National Opera Company at all, and even more amazing that thanks to the efforts of eccentric entrepreneur Ellen Kent they have been brought so far from home to tour this country.
The production is very appealing; the set is a pretty Japanese garden with Cio Cio San’s house, a fragile construction like herself, standing at the rear. As Madame Butterfly is set entirely in Cio Cio San’s house, it was nice to vary the scene a little with a shrine, a bridge, a pretty (though slightly annoying in moments of silent dramatic tension) water feature and so on. The costumes were also excellent – debonair men of the world Pinkerton and Sharpless in their smart suits contrasting beautifully with the gorgeous, silk-wrapped heroine and her bevy of bitchy beauties. The production pin-pointed the foreign-ness separating Pinkerton’s world from Cio Cio San’s, and the inflexible rituals, the rigid imperatives, of Japanese courtesy were powerfully evoked.
The principal roles are rotated, but on the night I saw it, Galina Bernaz was a beautiful and touching Cio Cio San, with a voice that, given full rein, combined power with sweetness of tone in a properly spell-binding way. Her movements were all exquisitely graceful, like watching a perfectly choreographed dance, which made the jerky violence of her sepuku all the more shocking. Ruslan Zinevych as Pinkerton was a languid predator, very much a spoilt young man with the world at his feet, a dedicated consumer who views the fifteen year old Butterfly as just another luxury item he is perfectly entitled to sample and discard. The resonance with America’s attitude to other cultures was eloquent though not over-emphasized. Nadejda Stoianova was excellent as Butterfly’s faithful maid Suzuki, and Vladimir Dragos impressive as Sharpless, played in this production as a person of tender conscience who deeply regrets not interfering more in Pinkerton’s little game.
There were quibbles. The orchestra (also Moldovan) was not absolutely first rate, and it was often difficult to hear the singers over them. There were longueurs, though this is probably more Puccini’s fault than the company’s. The voices were strong and flexible, but also very variable. But such niggles were swept aside by the sheer emotional power of the last act. An uncredited little boy played Butterfly and Pinkerton’s son with devastating restraint. A frail little doll caught up in a horrible tragedy, the tenderness with which he was caressed by his mother, sung to, and finally, blindfolded and sat on a little mat so that he wouldn’t be able to see what she was doing, undid me and a large percentage of the audience. We were led, damp-eyed and sniffing, from the auditorium.