Productions of Madama Butterfly should be built to last. A core repertory piece such as this can expect frequent revivals, so what any opera company needs is a staging that doesn't date too fast and doesn't make elaborate technical demands. That is precisely what David McVicar has provided for Scottish Opera. In taking a straightforward approach, however, McVicar has not stinted on specifics, nor on the careful delineation of every emotional current running through the work; the power that is remorselessly built up through the second half testifies to that.
Yannis Kavakis provides the designs - Butterfly's house, all sliding translucent panels, is seen from the outside in the first act, and from within in the second; and extra touches of japonaiserie are kept to a minimum - and everything is lit with unfailing elegance by Paule Constable.
It is in the detail, though, that the production exerts its real fascination. Every performance is finely grained, each gesture is made to count. As portrayed by Ian Storey, this Lieutenant Pinkerton - bourbon-swilling, physically dominating and aggressive enough actually to push Butterfly's uncle, the Bonze, away from the house when he renounces her - is not just unthinkingly impulsive and finally callous, but also cruelly cynical. Before his marriage to Butterfly he not only tells Sharpless (Jason Howard) that he will eventually take an American wife, but also shows him a picture, presumably of the woman he is already committed to. And when Butterfly's family gather for the wedding, half of them arrive in western clothes, indicating that she is not the first among them to become embroiled with American culture.
The emotional ratchet is given further turns in the second act. Natalia Dercho's tiny, fragile Butterfly waits for Pinkerton's return in Miss Havisham style, wearing the dress he gave her on their wedding day. And as she drives out Goro the marriage broker, her son, astonishingly well played by Sam Aschavir, also attacks him - with his teddy bear. Goro himself (Peter Van Hulle) takes on a more usually sinister dimension; he even reappears with Pinkerton and his new American wife in the final scene, looking for yet another financial cut of the action.
Musically, it is just as enthralling. Guido Ajmone-Marsan's conducting is robust, never over-sweet; an occasional rough patch apart, the orchestral playing is fervent. Both Dercho and Storey are first rate - she with seemingly boundless reserves of compelling, well-focused tone, he matching his burly physicality with singing of equal forcefulness - while Jane Irwin's Suzuki is beautifully modulated. All hard to fault.
At the Theatre Royal, Glasgow (0141-332 9000) until December 30; at the Edinburgh Festival Theatre (0131-529 6000) on December 12, 14 and 16.
