B.F. Pinkerton!

Scott and I went to see "Madama Butterfly" at the Kennedy Center. Oh, it was wonderful. The last opera I saw was "Camille/La Traviata" (which wasn't a fully opera, but was magnificent nonetheless) with Lisa and Heidi. We were pretty high up, but we could still see most of it. And we could definitely hear it.

We came into the Kennedy Center through the Hall of States, a large cavernous entryway with the flags of the 50 states hanging from the ceiling. We picked up our tickets at Will Call and ventured into the Opera House. It seemed like it was open to the rest of the building, because the stairs into the House open up to the rest of the Center. We walked up three flights of stairs to reach the second tier. We got our Playbills and took our seats. We were on the left side of the stage, quite high up, but I didn't mind. Finally the lights dimmed and the conductor came out. By the way, it was Placido Domingo. Scott had been very excited about this (he had to tell me that Domingo was one of the Three Tenors; I only remembered Pavarotti.). Then the show started. The translation for the Italian was projected on a screen above the stage, so it was like watching a live foreign film. One of the things I love about foreign media is that, even though something inevitably gets lost in the translation, the language is different, richer. There aren't any slang or colloquialisms.

If you are unfamiliar with the plot of "Madama Butterfly," I will enlighten you. The play "M. Butterfly" and the musical "Miss Saigon" are based on the story. There are three acts in the opera. During the first one, an American officer, Pinkerton, is in Japan at the turn of the 20th century and marries a young geisha named Butterfly. To her, this marriage is everything; she converts to Christianity for him, and because of this and her marriage to an American, her family disowns her. Unfortunately, for Pinkerton, the marriage is something to help while the time away until he has to leave, which he does, though promising Butterfly he'll come back to her. The second act happens three years later. Pinkerton still hasn't returned, but he's sent a letter to his friend, Sharpless, asking Sharpless to break the news to Butterfly that Pinkerton has married an American woman, and considers his marriage to Butterfly null and void. When Sharpless tries to tell Butterfly, she becomes excited, thinking that Pinkerton is at last coming back, and shows Sharpless her son, the blond-haired, blue-eyed product of her marriage. When an American ship docks in the harbor, Butterfly realizes it's Pinkerton's ship, and she stays up all night with her son, waiting for Pinkerton to come home. The third act picks up the next morning; Pinkerton still hasn't come. Butterfly goes to lay down for a little while, and Pinkerton comes by, with his new wife, Kate. He's heard of his son, and sends Kate to collect the child from Butterfly; they'll take the boy in and raise him as their own. Pinkerton says he's too filled with remorse to see Butterfly. So Kate goes to see her, and tells her what she wants. Butterfly is shocked, but tells Kate to come back in a half hour to get the boy. Then she says good-bye to her son and kills herself.

It's obviously a tragedy. At first, I was really pissed off at Pinkerton. He's the stereotypical American, only out for what he can get, not caring about others' feelings in the matter. But then as the story progressed, I realized I was more upset at Butterfly, especially at the end. I wanted her to fight. Why should she give up everything for Pinkerton, even her son? She lost her entire identity in him, and he wasn't even remotely that dedicated to her. But the show was just fantastic, splendidly done.

This morning, Lori called me out on the balconey where she was having her morning cigarette. "I just wanted someone else to see this," she said. There was a marching band playing "Grand Old Flag" in the park by the Iwo Jima. At 8:00 in the morning. I love this city.