Tuesday night, Marshall Anderson and I were at the Lyric Opera of Chicago to see Puccini’s “Madama Butterfly,” and I cannot remember a more moving night at the opera in my whole life.  I think it stemmed from several things, not least of which was that the performance itself was superb – and the opera itself is one of the great heartbreakers of all time. But it was more than that. . .

  1. 1) This is where it all started for me – my fervent love of opera – with Madama Butterfly.  When I got to Luther as a freshman, I was quite the operatic neophyte, although I was a couple of baby steps ahead of my peers. I had seen “Amahl and the Night Visitors” on television – and “Ballad of Baby Doe” at Simpson, because a friend of mine from high school was one of the leads (and I was thinking of going to Simpson) . . . . and I had even sung a couple of arias (from Carmen and The Marriage of Figaro) in my voice lessons with Cherie Carl.  (I was so blessed that in a little Iowa town of 9,000 there was a superb private voice teacher like Cherie Carl who could give me a peek into this world.)  So I had at least dipped my toe into operatic waters, but by no means had I fallen in love with opera.   That happened when I started eaves- dropping as my college roommate – Marshall – would listen to his LP of highlights from “Madama Butterfly” with Mirella Freni and Luciano Pavarotti.  I can still remember the delicious shiver that went through my body as I heard that incredible act one love duet. . . the most sublime music I had ever heard in my life.  And ever since, whenever I hear that same music,  even if it’s not sung quite as perfectly as  on this particular recording, I feel awash in the sweetest sort of  nostalgia, I suppose it would be like a baseball fan thinking back to the first big game they witnessed which made them first  fall in love with the game.  That’s what this love duet is like for me.

  2. 2)Part of what made this particular performance of Madama Butterfly so special for me is that this is one of the operas in which I sang during my tenure at the Lyric Opera of Chicago (1985-86) as part of their apprentice program, the Lyric Opera Center for American Artists.  This group of young singers performed “The Marriage of Figaro” ourselves in the summer – and then during the fall sang small roles in the productions of the big house.  And when it came to my particular roles,  I mean Small with a capital S :  one line in La Rondine,  one and half lines in La Traviata,  and one word – one single word – in Madama Butterfly.    And it was the same production as was used Tuesday night, with the same set and basically the same costumes.    We’ve seen it repeatedly over the years, and every time it brings back all kinds of sweet memories for me.   Of course,  it was neat to be part of something so exciting-  if also odd to be such a tiny part of the proceedings.  But I was there.  And the production was telecast on PBS,  and on the video you see my name in the closing credits.  You’ve heard of the proverbial fifteen minutes of fame for which everyone hungers?  My performance of the Registrar in Madama Butterfly is my three seconds worth.

  3. 3)Quite apart from any personal connection of mine,  this production is sheer magic.   The set is perched on top of the Lyric’s massive turntable,  and the picturesque Japanese house spins quietly at various points in the drama – allowing you to see it from all sides.  And the original director, Hal Prince, came up with all sorts of little details to bring the opera more poignantly to life – and also to imbue it with authentic touches of Kabuki theater. As for my little part- I wore a very impressive costume and stood in the wedding scene with an odd-looking portable desk which hung around my desk with a strap- and I pulled out of it a leather bound book which looked a lot like some sort of accounting ledger,  but was in fact an old rehearsal book from the Chicago Opera company of the 1920’s. . . and if you looked at its pages,  you saw the carefully inked names of immortal singers like Mary Garden.   And I was the guy handling this precious prop. And in a fun touch unique to this production,  at the moment when the couple is married-  that is, Madame Butterfly and her American naval officer husband – they pose for a wedding photograph before one of those old fashioned cameras – and then in the second and third acts of the opera,  that photograph is seen in Madame Butterfly’s living room. . . and it was a real photograph with Anna Tomowa-Sintow and Peter Dvorsky in front – and Mark Doss (the official who married them) and me  right behind them.  What I wouldn’t give to have snuck away with that sepia-tone photograph in my pocket !

  4. 4)Last but not least,  as I watched this performance the other night,  I thought about my niece Aidan, who has portrayed the character of Trouble onstage.  This is a little boy to whom Madame Butterfly has given birth –  conceived with the American husband who has since abandoned her and does not know anything about the boy’s existence.   It’s fun to think about Uncle and Niece having both been small parts of this opera.

  5. 5)I lied. . . . THIS is my last thought. . .    I was so struck Tuesday night by how amazingly silent the audience was in the quietest moments of the performance.   We’re talking about over 3000 people being so completely enthralled by what they’re watching that they are utterly silent. . . the highest compliment they could give.  And at the end,  when Patricia Racette, the soprano who sang Butterfly, came forward for her solo bow – pictured above- the place went nuts,  which is the second highest compliment an audience can give.   And as Marshall and I joined in the ovation,  I thought of what TV commentator Peggy Fleming said as the audience went crazy in 1984 as Torvill and Dean were awarded all perfect sixes. . .  “We are so lucky to see this!”        Amen to that.