司馬勤

通常我們提起歌劇《蝴蝶夫人》，雅典不會是從腦海中冒出來的第一個城市?？墒?，《蝴蝶夫人》卻在希臘國家歌劇院（Greek National Opera，簡稱GNO）常規(guī)劇目單中獨占鰲頭。1940 年秋天，正是《蝴蝶夫人》開啟了該歌劇院的首個演出季（在當年早些時候，希臘國家歌劇院搬演了施特勞斯的輕歌劇《蝙蝠》）。盡管希臘國家歌劇院于2020 年已經(jīng)推出過另一套《蝴蝶夫人》新制作，但今年6 月在希羅德· 阿迪庫斯音樂堂（Odeon of Herodes Atticus）揭幕的雅典埃皮達魯斯藝術(shù)節(jié)（Athens-Epidaurus Festival）上， 希臘國家歌劇院又搬演了一部《蝴蝶夫人》的新制作。

希臘國家歌劇院的藝術(shù)總監(jiān)喬治· 庫門達基斯（Giorgos Koumendakis）在節(jié)目冊的文章里將問題一一解答清楚。首先，這個露天音樂堂，又稱“奧德翁”（Odeon），可容納5000 位觀眾，吸引的普羅大眾要比只有1400 座位的室內(nèi)場地——斯塔夫羅斯· 尼爾霍斯歌劇廳（Stavros Niarchos Hall）多好幾倍。其次，2020 年由烏戈· 德· 安納（Hugo de Ana）執(zhí)導的《蝴蝶夫人》新制作遭遇了新冠疫情， 場館關(guān)閉，演出被迫取消。因此，那年雅典的歌劇迷失望極了，他們與《蝴蝶夫人》失之交臂。

但依舊還有一些疑問懸而未決：希臘國家歌劇院為何邀請奧利維爾· 皮（Olivier Py）導演此劇？ 還有，到底是誰那么信任皮先生，將普契尼的作品托付給他呢？

平心而論， 皮導絕不是一位歌劇菜鳥。作為阿維尼翁藝術(shù)節(jié)的前任總監(jiān)和巴黎夏特萊歌劇院（Théatre du Ch?telet） 的現(xiàn)任領(lǐng)導，2020 年皮導曾為希臘國家歌劇院執(zhí)導貝爾格的《沃采克》（Wozzeck ）。但是，《沃采克》絕非那些大受追捧的熱門歌劇。反過來說，《蝴蝶夫人》是歌劇劇目中備受愛戴同時又備受批評的作品之一。皮導坦然承認，這是他首次執(zhí)導普契尼歌?。惶拱渍f，我也一眼就看得出來，因為他的這版《蝴蝶夫人》制作擁有得罪各類觀眾群體的多種元素。

一開始皮導就清楚地表明，他構(gòu)思的制作中將沒有浪漫的陳詞濫調(diào)?！啊逗蛉恕吠ǔ１灰暈橐徊繘]有政治深度的通俗煽情劇，故事發(fā)生在奇幻虛構(gòu)中的日本。”他在節(jié)目冊中寫道。

我不太清楚皮導過去幾十年的具體藝術(shù)經(jīng)歷， 但我經(jīng)常出入歌劇院，目睹著《蝴蝶夫人》是如何演變?yōu)楦鑴〗缰凶畋弧罢位钡膭∧恐坏倪^程。故事源自美國作家約翰· 魯瑟· 朗（John Luther Long）在雜志所發(fā)表含有說教成分的短篇小說，后來在1988 年被黃哲倫解構(gòu)為百老匯的制作《蝴蝶君》（M. Butterfly），劇本突出了反亞裔帝國主義思想。美國公眾對該劇的反應(yīng)介于兩種極端之間：有人強調(diào)歌劇必須聘用亞裔角色以忠于故事情節(jié)，也有人鼓吹從今以后罷演《蝴蝶夫人》，讓它永久下架。

皮導的制作好像完全忽略了過去35 年里公眾對該劇的討論，更談不上對故事蘊含的歷史背景有任何認知——尤其是那些19 世紀風靡一時的法國暢銷小說。我也找不到皮導曾打開過普契尼總譜的任何證明。視覺上，該制作配合露天“奧德翁”的圓形建筑結(jié)構(gòu)，無論布景還是服裝都呼應(yīng)了圓形和球形主題動機，跟圓形舞臺與天空中的明月相得益彰。可惜皮導的敘事方式只是一些雜亂無章、不連貫的反美理念。它們與普契尼的音樂敘事與線條式的張力徹底脫節(jié)。就算你只看導演的戲劇手法，也找不到任何連貫性。

美國海軍平克爾頓首次入場，衣冠不整、酒醉蹣跚。皮導的確熟讀了劇本：平克爾頓與美國領(lǐng)事官夏普萊斯（Sharpless）干杯時喝的是威士忌，而不是茶水。還有，平克爾頓在臺上從頭到尾都有一瓶“杰克丹尼”牌威士忌在手邊，讓他隨時唾手可得。第一幕的背景掛上了一大堆閃亮的企業(yè)標志，有福特汽車、臉書、麥當勞與星巴克等，連本地觀眾都覺得備受冒犯，在社交媒體上發(fā)起了一場運動，以批評皮導對希臘古物（這個音樂堂位于雅典最古老的衛(wèi)城山麓）的褻瀆。我還以為那些標志是藝術(shù)節(jié)的贊助，直至有朋友指出，背景上的圖像代表了現(xiàn)代城市的景觀以及美國霸權(quán)如何對亞洲進行商業(yè)化壟斷。到了下半場，背景幕甚至掛上了長崎原子彈爆炸的黑白照片。

盡管皮導表示自己尊敬日本文化，但實際上他僅用了少量的日本元素。他強調(diào)選角時聘請了一位亞裔“蝴蝶”——不是日裔而是表現(xiàn)出色的韓國女高音孫知惠（Anna Sohn）——其他演員都沒有依據(jù)族裔而定。飾演鈴木是俄羅斯次女高音艾莉莎·克魯索娃（Alisa Kolosova）。她穿上黑色長裙，看起來更像個穿喪服的希臘寡婦而不是個日本女傭。

即使是皮導為數(shù)不多的象征性導演手法也顯得膚淺和不得體。帕特羅思· 馬古拉斯（Petros Magoulas）飾演蝴蝶夫人的和尚叔父，雖穿著歌舞伎戲服，但從音樂或戲劇角度都沒有特別的交代。幾位剃光了頭、周身敷抹著白粉的舞者——我猜， 導演借喻的是日本舞踏（Butoh）——在演出中偶爾出現(xiàn)偶爾消失，但舞姿與普契尼的音樂并不協(xié)調(diào)， 與發(fā)源自20 世紀后期的日本舞蹈形式也毫不相干。如果導演想表達美國軍方轟炸日本與美國海軍毀掉蝴蝶一生幸福的共通點，那么他肯定沒有認真精讀歷史：當芳華正茂的蝴蝶夫人在臺上花枝招展時， 何來二次世界大戰(zhàn)后的一堆舞踏演員呢？

***

正如我所料，《蝴蝶夫人》在舊金山同樣受歡迎。舊金山歌劇院有史以來搬演場次最多的劇目是《波希米亞人》，而《托斯卡》與《蝴蝶夫人》是并列亞軍。1924 年，當舊金山首演《蝴蝶夫人》時，普契尼還活著。因為位于美國大量亞裔聚居的大城市，舊金山歌劇院自然也是熱議“過時的帝國主義”與“忠于現(xiàn)實”表演方式的戰(zhàn)場。因此，在慶祝舊金山歌劇院百周年慶時，舊金山歌劇院與日本東京二期會歌劇劇場（ Tokyo Nikikai Opera Theatre 聯(lián)合委約 湖蝶夫人》的新制作，由宮本亞門（Amon Miyamoto執(zhí)導，也就不足為奇了。

唯一令我驚訝的是檔期的安排：宮本版《蝴蝶夫人》的舊金山首演剛好安排在皮導的《蝴蝶夫人》雅典首演的兩天后。雖然我人在歐洲，卻有機會看到舊金山歌劇院的網(wǎng)上直播。這兩個版本的區(qū)別簡直令人詫異。

這不是美國歌劇院第一次把目光投向日本。至少自20世紀50年代初，新建不久的紐約市立歌劇院（New York City Opera，創(chuàng)辦于1943 年）與日本歷史最悠久的藤原歌劇團（Fujiwara Opera，建立于1934 年）合作時，《蝴蝶夫人》就已經(jīng)成為文化交流的一種方式。演員陣容方面，日本裔演員飾演日本角色，美國人演美國角色。舞臺上呈現(xiàn)了正宗日本布景而不是東方情調(diào)的刻板印象。兩團合作也頗具歷史淵源：二次世界大戰(zhàn)前，紐約市立歌劇院院長約瑟夫· 羅森斯托克（Joseph Rosenstock）曾指揮過日本愛樂樂團；而藤原義江在建立歌劇團之前， 曾在意大利接受過聲樂訓練并在那里的歌劇院演唱。

跟從前那些早期跨越太平洋的合作模式有別——當然與雅典的制作也大不相同——宮本的視野清晰，他也熟知歌劇的歷史淵源。皮導把《蝴蝶夫人》坐落在一個“奇幻虛構(gòu)的日本”，可是普契尼的故事是發(fā)生在有歷史根據(jù)的明治維新時代。當年， 美國海軍準將佩里（Commodore Perry）造訪日本后， 讓一個本來封建封閉的社會蛻變?yōu)楣I(yè)發(fā)展的國家。歌劇中的角色沖突，無論是日本人與外來者，或是本國的傳統(tǒng)主義者與革新者，都反映了當時一些真實的情況。無獨有偶，宮本在國際劇壇聲名大噪，也是由于他執(zhí)導了斯蒂芬· 桑德海姆（Stephen Sondheim） 音樂劇《太平洋序曲》（Pacific Overtures）的日本語版本——故事描述的正是佩里的那次歷史性征途。

宮本與皮導兩人都巧妙地處理了《蝴蝶夫人》的時間線，但宮本移植且重構(gòu)了已存在的歌劇材料， 而不像皮導那般貼上一些不合時宜的標簽。帷幕一開，我們看到一個年邁而病入膏肓的平克爾頓臥在床上。站在他周圍的有夫人凱特（Kate）、鈴木與已長大了的兒子。平克爾頓拿出幾頁紙給兒子，大概是描述關(guān)于蝴蝶夫人往事的文字吧；音樂起拍， 兒子就閃回到歌劇的一開頭，在舞臺側(cè)面觀看每一個場景的來龍去脈。

從視覺上，宮本的敘事十分接地氣。不單是蝴蝶夫人，故事中的日本角色全都由亞裔演員擔綱。服裝設(shè)計來自大名鼎鼎的設(shè)計師、三年前去世的高田賢三（Kenzo Takada，KENZO 品牌創(chuàng)始人），他把傳統(tǒng)的和服元素現(xiàn)代化。有幾個場景有意識地從標志性的日本藝術(shù)作品中攝取了靈感。

但是除了視覺上的有效性，制作十分尊重戲劇性互動。媒人五郎（Goro）或蝴蝶家人的演出都很嚴肅， 沒有刻意逗人發(fā)笑。皮導的制作里只有孫知惠這位蝴蝶夫人擁有全面的人性；宮本所處理的人物無論大小都富有細膩感情，他們不只代表不同視角的簡筆人物畫（stick figures）。每一個人都生活在呼吸戲劇性的時刻，而不是無止境地浮沉于普契尼的音樂之中。

宮本所締造的敘事層次——讓蝴蝶夫人與平克爾頓的兒子見證整個故事——并不算創(chuàng)新。多年活躍于舊金山的樂評人約書亞· 科斯曼（Joshua Kosman）的文章提到，早在1997 年，導演羅恩·丹尼爾斯（Ron Daniels）就曾用上這類敘事框架。但宮本卻更加重口味：讓兒子從頭到尾都在窺看故事的發(fā)展。有時候效果明顯，尤其當觀眾察覺到臺上有一雙眼睛反映著（并確認）劇中強烈感情。有時候這位額外演員分散了歌劇情節(jié)本身的專注力，有時候卻顯得有點超現(xiàn)實：比如當兒子以成年的視角從遠處看到自己3 歲的模樣。你幾乎可以預料兩人可以走在一起，即興來個二重唱。

普契尼沒有譜寫兒子二重唱，但舊金山在處理音樂時所下的功夫做得很精致。在雅典，指揮瓦斯利斯· 克里斯托普洛斯（Vassilis Christopoulos）像交警一般與樂手交流（希臘國家歌劇院樂團在舞臺上，他們坐在演員后面奏樂）。韓國出生的舊金山歌劇院音樂總監(jiān)金恩善把普契尼的旋律線時而拉緊時而放松，營造的感情充滿自信。在希臘國家歌劇院的制作中，蝴蝶夫人是唯一跑完全程的角色；而舊金山歌劇院的演員們一氣呵成，好似一大群人走在一起，不費吹灰之力沖到了終點。

Athens isnt the first city that usually comes to mind when people think of Madama Butterfly ， but Butter?fly seems to be at the top of the repertory list for the Greek National Opera. It was Butterfly that opened the companys first season in the autumn of 1940 （after an inaugural performance of Johann Strausss oper?etta Die Fledermaus earlier that year） and a new But?terfly production that opened this summers Athens- Epidaurus Festival at the Odeon of Herodes Atticus in June—despite the company having recently presented a totally different production in 2020.

GNO artistic director Giorgos Koumendakis had an?swers for all that， conveniently distributed to audiences in the program book. First of all， the 5000-seat Odeon attracts a highly populist crowd， which needs a different approach from the GNOs usual audience at the 1400- seat Stavros Niarchos Hall. Also， the companys 2020 Butterfly by Hugo de Ana was cancelled during its run due to pandemic venue closings， so the citys diehard opera lovers never got their full Butterfly quotient.

But a couple of unanswered questions still hovered in the Odeons open air： How did the GNO decide to engage director Olivier Py？ And how the hell did any?one ever entrust him with Puccinis score？

Py is hardly an operatic neophyte. The former head of the Avignon Festival and current head of Pariss Thé?atre du Ch?telet， he had also previously directed Bergs Wozzeck for the GNO in 2020. But Wozzeck isnt exactly an audience favorite. Butterfly ， on the other hand， has a uniquely beloved and beleaguered place in the rep?ertory. Py admitted that this was the first time he had directed an opera by Puccini， and it showed. His But?terfly had something to offend everyone.

Right up front， Py stated that his production would be free of romantic clichés. “Madama Butterfly is generally considered a melodrama lacking in political depth， set in fantastical Japan，” he wrote in the pro?gram book.

I dont know where Py has been for the last few de?cades， but Ive been at the opera watching Madama Butterfly become one of the most politicized works in the repertory. From its roots in John Luther Longs moralizing magazine fiction to David Henry Hwangs 1988 play M. Butterfly deconstructing Puccinis opera as anti-Asian imperialist dogma， public reaction in America has veered between those who demand that the opera be done with authentic Asian representation and those who complain that its still being done at all.

Pys production showed little familiarity with the past 35 years of public discourse， even less knowledge of the storys original context—particularly its prece?dents in 19th century French literature—and practically no evidence of ever having opened Puccinis score. Visually， the production was quite strikingly tailored to the Odeons circular， roofless setting， with both sets and costumes filled with circular-globular motives that echoed both the stage area and the sky above. But Pys narrative approach was merely a string of disjointed anti-American tropes that neither followed or respond?ed to the linear descriptive power of Puccinis score nor converged into a coherent narrative of its own.

Pinkerton， the American naval officer， enters the stage disheveled and half-soused. Py takes his cue from the libretto， where Pinkerton and Sharpless （the American consul） toast with whiskey， and Pinkerton never moves without his bottle of Jack Daniels in easy reach. The backdrop throughout Act I， consisting of illuminated corporate logos from Ford and Facebook to McDonalds and Starbucks， managed to irritate even the Greeks， who instigated an angry social media campaign denigrating Pys production for desecrating antiquities （the Odeon is on the slope of the Acropolis， Athens most historic site）. The logos looked like festi?val sponsors until someone pointed out that they were supposed to represent an urban skyline and Americas commercialization of Asia. The rest of the opera pro?ceeded under an enormous black-and-white photo?graph of the atomic explosion at Nagasaki.

Despite citing his reverence for Japanese culture， Py didnt actually use much of it. Though he made a fuss about casting an Asian Butterfly—not a Japanese sing?er， but rather the superb Korean soprano Anna Sohn— none of the other characters were cast according to ethnicity. As Suzuki， the black-clad Russian singer Alisa Kolosova looked more like a Greek widow in mourning than a Japanese maid.

Even his few token gestures came through as su?perficial and undigested. Petros Magoulas played The Bonze （Butterflys uncle） dressed in a Kabuki costume with no musical or dramatic justification. A core of bald， white-painted dancers pranced through much of the show in a seeming reference to butoh， despite movements that fit neither Puccinis music nor the actual late 20th-century Japanese dance form. If the point was to draw connections between the American militarys bombing of Japan and an American sailors destruction of Butterfly， referencing post-War dance while Butterfly was still fluttering showed a fairly loose grasp of history.

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Madama Butterfly—to no surprise， really—is equally popular in San Francisco， tying with Tosca as San Fran?cisco Operas second most-produced work （La bohème is still firmly number one）. The citys first local Butter?fly was in 1924， when Puccini was still alive. And being home to one of Americas largest Asian and Asian- American populations， San Francisco remains a key battleground between “outdated imperial” thinking and “authentic” representation. So its also little won?der that， in celebrating its centenary season， the SFO looked directly to Japan， co-producing a new Butterfly by director Amon Miyamoto with the Tokyo Nikikai Op?era Theatre.

The only surprise， in fact， was in the timing， with Miyamotos production opening in San Francisco two days after Pys production premiered in Athens. I managed to catch a live stream from San Francisco later that week and a bigger contrast between the two could hardly be imagined.

This is hardly the first time an American opera com?pany has looked to Japan. Madame Butterfly has been a means of cultural exchange at least since the early 1950s， when New York City Opera （founded in 1943） partnered with the Fujiwara Opera， Japans oldest opera company （founded in 1934）. In that production， Japanese singers played the Japanese characters and Americans played Americans， the visual approach replacing Orientalist stereotypes with some Japanese authenticity. The partnership had a certain authentic?ity as well， since NYCO general director Joseph Rosen?stock had led the Japan Philharmonic Orchestra be?fore the Second World War， and Yoshie Fujiwara （before founding his company） had trained and worked as an opera singer in Italy.

Unlike that early trans-Pacific collaboration—and certainly in contrast to the display in Athens—Miya?motos production came with a clear vision and his?torical context. Contrary to Pys notions that Madama Butterfly exists in “a fantastical Japan，” Puccini set his opera in the very real Meiji era， the period after US Commodore Perrys historic expedition marking Ja?pans rocky transition from feudal isolation to modern industrialization. Tensions in the opera， both between Japanese and outsiders and between traditional and modern factions within the country， reflected real-life concerns. Appropriately enough， Miyamoto had first come to international attention after directing a Japa?nese-language version of Stephen Sondheims Pacific Overtures —a musical recounting the Perry expedition.

Like Py， Miyamoto plays with Madama Butterfly s timeline， but he shuffles and reframes existing material in the opera rather than simply grafting on anachronistic ideas. The curtain opens on a very sick Pinkerton surrounded by his wife Kate， Suzuki and his son （now an adult）. Pinkerton hands his son several pages， presumably a diary detailing accounts of his Japanese mother; as the music begins， their son experiences the story in flash?back， watching each scene from the sidelines.

Visually， Miyamoto kept the story grounded. Not just Butterfly but indeed all of the operas Japanese characters were played by perform?ers of Asian descent. Costumes （by the late Kenzo Takada， founder of the eponymous fashion brand KENZO） were modernized from traditional kimono styles. Several scenes consciously adapted imagery from iconic Japanese artworks.

But beyond its visual validity， the production em?bodied greater gravitas in its dramatic interactions as well. Neither Goro the marriage broker nor Butterflys family members were played for laughs. Compared to Pys production， where Anna Sohns Butterfly was the only character with a full range of humanity， Miyamoto dealt with a parade of finely shaded personalities， not stick figures representing different points of view. Each lived and breathed in the dramatic moment， rather than wafting in perpetuity within Puccinis score.

Miyamotos narrative layering， with Butterfly and Pinkertons son witness to the proceedings， is not entirely new. As longtime San Francisco critic Joshua Kosman pointed out， director Ron Daniels used a simi?lar framing for an SFO production in 1997. But unlike Daniels， Miyamoto keeps that voyeuristic presence throughout. Sometimes it works， particularly when audience members can see their own emotional reac?tion to the story being reflected （and authenticated） by a third party on stage. Sometimes it doesnt， when that added presence ends up diluting the scenes dra?matic focus. Sometimes it becomes uncharacteristi?cally surreal， as when the adult observes his 3-year-old self from a distance. You almost expect the two to burst into a spontaneous duet.

Puccini offered no music for that， but what he did write received ample attention. Unlike Vassilis Chris?topoulos， who needed the skills of a traffic cop to negotiate his musical forces （the Greek National Opera Orchestra was placed behind the stage， rather than in front）， San Francisco Operas Korean-born music direc?tor Eun Sun Kim pushed and pulled Puccinis musical line with expressive assuranceexpressive assurance， without the need for additional staging logistics. Com?pared to the GNO， where only Sohns Butterfly was prepared to go the distance， the SFO cast made it to the finish line without vocally breaking a sweat.