At first they are just two shadows moving behind a screen. We see the silhouettes of their hats sliding across the surface. We hear their voices. Two men. One of them – Pinkerton, an American naval officer – has utilised the services of the other, a broker named Goro, to acquire a house in Japan.  

It is a sweet arrangement. Pinkerton has agreed to rent this lavish accommodation for 999 years, but he has the right to cancel the contract at a month’s notice. This deal pleases him immensely. For him, this is a thing of great convenience. Oh, and it includes both a servant and a young bride.  

The bride in question is the very young (merely 15 years old) Cio-Cio-San, nicknamed ‘Butterfly’. She will swoon into the arms of this military man, this American gentleman. She will become besotted by him, devoted to him and it will be the destruction of her.

This is not a narrative that sits comfortably within contemporary society – the notion of a young woman pining for her uncaring lover. We watch her keep a tiny flicker of hope alive in the very core of herself, even though her husband offers her only his absence, his silence. But Eternity Opera Company tackle it beautifully, rendering it powerful and lyrical.

The Second and Third Acts in particular are engrossing. Every moment of joy is fleeting, undone by the realisation – on the part of the audience – that these are false hopes and will ultimately be dashed.

Poor Butterfly. Her plight is lamentable. Her devotion seems hopelessly naïve by modern standards. She has secretly converted to Christianity so that she and her husband can pray to the same God. Her uncle, the Bonze – a stern, stentorian Roger Wilson, as strong-voiced as ever – curses her for this. He rebukes her and renders her a pariah. Her family never speak to her again.

She is left with the servant, Suzuki, as her only companion. Suzuki is faithful and fearless, impish and practical. Her character is very well-rendered, with beautifully heartfelt singing by Laura Loach. When I say her ‘only companion’, I am omitting her son – played adorably by Leo McKenzie. This is the child she bore Pinkerton. But since her husband abandoned her shortly after the nuptials, he does not know that he possesses an heir. 

Both Hannah Catrin Jones and Boyd Owen bring total commitment to their roles as Butterfly and Pinkerton – she with both vulnerability and strength across her vocal range, he with ringing tone and robust passion – though occasionally Jones’ choice of vowel colour is a bit unusual on certain words, making them sound somewhat twee or like exaggerated speech. Their wedding night ‘love duet’ is convincingly sensuous and endearing …

But it’s clear that Pinkerton never loves Cio-Cio-San. Even from the opening scene he speaks – to his friend and consul, Sharpless – of his desire to marry an American woman. It is later left to the stricken Sharpless, caught in a mangled situation that he had counselled Pinkerton against, to break the devastating news to Butterfly. In this moment Kieran Rayner truly shines, as both a very fine actor and fluidly expressive singer.

He tries to deliver a letter from Pinkerton to Butterfly. But she will not hear it. She is instead delighted by the notion that her wayward husband may finally return to her. The audience watches as Sharpless fumbles and despairs. His face is an agony of expressions. He realises little by little that he may not have mettle enough in him to deliver this blow to one so innocent and devoted as Butterfly.

Jennifer Eccles’ set design is simple and clever. There are sliding panels for doorways and directional path-markings painted onto the floor. The stage is backed by a large circle lit from behind. Off to one side we see the curling claw of a stylized tree. It is undeniably effective.

The lighting cues are extremely well-timed and brilliantly judged. They wonderfully depict the shifting of the light, the slow crawl of time, adding another layer of atmosphere and nuance to the production. All credit to Lighting Designer Haami Hawkins.

And there are many fine visual moments to further garnish the musical delights on offer, such as flower petals being cast into the air or the ingenious symmetry of ending two significant scenes with one character carrying another from the stage. 

On the face of it, the acoustic of Hannah Playhouse is not really ideal for the grand richness of Puccini’s score, which needs more length and arch to truly allow the singing and playing to resonate warmly in the building. So, there are times when the singing feels slightly brittle, almost too close. Yet as the plot progresses, we realise that witnessing the opera played out in this intimate space allows us to see into the inner realms of characters’ emotions in an almost visceral way, and there are many moments when we are drawn in by the passion and pathos of the voices.

The orchestra too, musically and sensitively conducted by Matthew Ross, deliver wonderful dynamic contrasts, fully supporting the singers with impeccable timing throughout. Of particular note is the sweet-toned solo obligato violin of Claudia Tarrant-Matthews, beautifully phrased with some of Butterfly’s soaring lines.

Declan Cudd is very fine as Goro; the smaller roles are all very aptly sung, by Ruth Armishaw, Tania Dreaver, Sally Haywood, Minto Fung, Chris Berentson, Garth Norman, Milla Dickens and Beatrix Poblacion Cariño, and Jess Segal’s imperious expression and scathing demeanour as Kate (Pinkerton’s American wife) is a beautiful horror to behold.

Generally the chorus singing is excellent, although there are a few pitch discrepancies in the sailors’ “oh – eh (Aweigh)” at the beginning of Act Three and a slight hint of strain from some on the final high note (B flat?) of the ‘humming chorus’. The positioning of voices behind the screen or up in a side gallery at certain times is evocative and works well in the space.

The decision to shift the setting to the 1950s is a wise one – allowing the production to play on the military tensions between Japan and America at the time. Aesthetically, it is well-executed in the costume designs of Sally Gray, although perhaps it might leave some pining for the flowing fabrics and elaborate stitching of the opera’s original 1904 setting.

The English translation of the libretto (courtesy of Ruth and Thomas Martin) is well-worded, and for the most-part the text is sung with clarity, rendering the storyline accessible and easy to follow.

This ‘classic’ of the operatic repertoire is yet another fantastic production from Eternity Opera, and one well-worth seeing! 

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