M. Butterfly Takes Wing

“MADAME BUTTERFLY” WAS first published in 1898, in Century Magazine, as a short story. Its author, Philadel-phia lawyer John Luther Long, was inspired by tales of the Far East shared with him by his sister, a Methodist missionary. He adored Japanese culture and writing fiction; when he died, in 1927, his obituary noted, in his own words, that he wanted to be remembered as “a sentimentalist, and a feminist and proud of it.”

When Giacomo Puccini saw a theatrical interpretation of the story in London and turned it into an opera in 1904, he could never have dreamed up the true tale of Bernard Boursicot and Shi Pei Pu, which unfolded in China 60 years after Madama Butterfly’s Milan debut.

Boursicot was just 20 years old when he moved to China in 1964. A sexually naive French embassy accountant, he was attending a Christmas party when he spotted Shi, then 26, who played leading-lady roles at the Peking Opera House. (Historically, opera used male singers to play female roles; the practice had largely died out by then.)

Though dressed as a man when they met, Shi told Boursicot that he had been born female but was forced by his family to live as a man. They began a romance that spanned two decades, with Shi even going so far as to tell Boursicot he had fathered their child. Shi bought a Uighur boy from northwestern China and raised him as their son.

From there, incredibly, the plot only thickened. During their relationship, Boursicot shared French state secrets with Shi, which Shi then passed to the Chinese government. They were both found guilty of espionage against the French government. Worldwide news of the case caught Hwang’s attention and led to the creation of M. Butterfly.

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The play opened on Broadway in 1988, won a Tony, and has been performed over 700 times in more than a dozen countries, with actors like Anthony Hopkins, John Lithgow, and BD Wong cast in leading roles.

Santa Fe Opera’s world premiere is in line with an important mandate for the company, which has presented operas every summer since 1957 (minus a pandemic hiatus in 2020). “We have been increasingly focused on diversity,” explains general director Robert K. Meya, “both with our behind-the-scenes staff and our performers. We are also working hard to expand our offerings of contemporary productions with appealing, accessible storylines.”

For Robinson, who has directed five productions at the Santa Fe Opera, a big part of M. Butterfly’s magic is in its then-prescient exploration of sexual fluidity. “When David wrote this play in the 1980s,” says Robinson, “it’s safe to say he couldn’t have predicted all of the conversations we’re now having about gender.”

Hwang has said M. Butterfly’s audience needs to live in a state of “self-delusion,” suspending their disbelief to allow such a seemingly preposterous story to unfold. For the score, Hwang tapped Chinese composer Huang Ruo. Both men were keen to spotlight a Chinese perspective, a mission that manifests itself not only in the story, but in the music itself.

Puccini’s opening score, for instance, comprises a peppily distinct da-da-da-da-DAH. Though he preserved the notes, Huang Ruo flipped their order, with the reversed DAH-da-da-da-da sequence advising us to expect the unexpected, even before any words are sung.

BUZZ FOR M. BUTTERFLY has highlighted its Korean American countertenor, Kangmin Justin Kim.

In opera, the countertenor is something of a unicorn. Often confused as a man singing falsetto, a countertenor must be a master of widely ranging octaves and equally comfortable with baritone and soprano compasses. The team must have been elated when Kim agreed to play Song Liling, the character based on Shi Pei Pu. Kim’s voice is striking, even for those unfamiliar with the special versatility of the countertenor. In the space of an aria, he can switch from brooding and dark to tender and piercing.

At 33, Kim has already played an impressive number of parts, making his leading-role debut in Francesco Cavalli’s Elena in 2013 at the Aix-en-Provence Festival. In his early twenties, Kim went viral on YouTube by channeling his drag persona, Kimchilia Bartoli, to deliver a jaw-dropping version of a Vivaldi aria, as performed by legendary diva Cecilia Bartoli. In a floor-length red gown, cascading black curls framing a flawlessly made-up face, Kim delivered a virtuosic performance. When he later met Bartoli in person, the Italian diva rushed toward him, crying, “Kimchilia! Mia sorella!” (“Kimchilia! My sister!”)

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For Meya, the Santa Fe Opera’s open-air theater beautifully complements the drama onstage. “It really allows the elements to be part of the visitor’s experience,” he says. “You hear wind and see the sun setting; sometimes we have storms rolling in and lightning flashes during a performance. Once you see a performance at Santa Fe Opera, it’s hard to see opera anywhere else.”

Properties director Garcia, a native New Mexican who spent years in Washington, D.C., and Denver, says the Santa Fe Opera suits
fans from all corners of the world. “Opera is for everyone,” she says, “but our opera is unique in how welcoming it feels. Come in formal wear or come in cowboy boots.”

As for what happened to the real-life stars of M. Butterfly, after his conviction, Shi remained in Paris, where he played roles in small-scale operas until his death, in 2009. In prison, Boursicot slit his own throat but survived. He later said he felt betrayed by Shi.

Despite all the deception and pain, Boursicot insisted his love was real, once telling a journalist, “When I believed it, it was a beautiful story.” Given the smoke and mirrors behind his multilayered affair, it’s safe to expect an enchanting interpretation from M. Butterfly.