"Un bel di" and the six notes that blow my mind

Nagasaki Japan (photo by Chris 73)
(reproduced via Wikimedia's Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License)

Years ago, George R. Marek, once the head of RCA Records' classical division, produced an album of opera excerpts with the title "Opera for people who hate opera". I don't think it included "Un bel di" from Puccini's Madama Butterfly, but Cio-Cio-san's iconic aria from early in Act 2 would have been a logical choice. It's one of those numbers that has made the transition from high culture to pop culture, both in its original form and this Motown update by The Chiffons. (Montserrat Caballé's reading of the aria is at this link.)

While "one fine day you're going to want me for your girl" doesn'exactly mirror Butterfly's affect, it's close enough: a woman is confident she'll end up with her chosen guy.

The aria is a prime example of Giacomo Puccini's meticulous craftsmanship. There's a lot to say about it, but here's a spoiler alert:y

"Un bel di" contains the six most extraodinary notes in the entire opera. They blow my mind.

Curious? Keep reading.

This is an aria that, unlike many others, lacks a song-like structure. No verse-and-refrain like Escamillo's "Toreador Song", for example. In fact, if not for the reappearance of the opening melody near the end, Butterfly's soliloquy would be through-composed, with no other repetition of musical materials. The musical setting follows the roller-coaster of the character's changing affects, from serene confidence to anxiousness to ultimate imagined triumph as she fantasizes about a joyous reunion with Pinkerton.

An interesting feature of that opening melody is its directional flow. In my previous post I pointed out the use of ascending melodic sequences both in Butterfly's entrance aria and the conclusion of the love duet. It was noted that these depicted both her climb up the hill to her new home and her rising excitement and desire as well.

But the "Un bel di" opening theme features a descending sequence:

Going up meant something; is the same true of going down in this case? The overall affect here is that of Butterfly's utter belief in her husband. As for the descending sequence, I've struggled to make sense of it for many years now - I've known the opera really well since 1964. For whatever it's worth,I've arrived at the following theory.

There is something self-contained about these eight bars; the cadence on G flat sounds final, like the period at the end of a sentence; like stepping on home plate. There's a sense of arrival. That's exactly what Cio-Cio-san is expecting Lt. Pinkerton to do: to return to this little house. It's his home; it's where he belongs. When he returns to Nagasaki, he'll have arrived home.

Here's a visual image for you. Think of Mary Poppins, parachuting gently down from the sky on her umbrella, touching down - arriving - at the home of the Banks children. Butterfly's melody is sort of like that; gently descending until it alights on the "home key" of G flat. It's as if Pinkerton is adrift somewhere out there in the ether, slowly making his way back to her.

Far-fetched, you say? Unlikely? Yes, perhaps - but this is a good way to listen to opera music: listening analytically, searching for meaning. I like my theory.

Now for those six notes.

With one subtle momentary exception, there are no native Japanese melodies in "Un bel di". Butterfly is fixating on her American husband's return, so Puccini eschews the ten authentic songs he employed elsewhere in the opera. It's lushly lyrical Western-style Italian opera music.

But about that momentary exception...

Throughout the opera, whenever Puccini employs a Japanese melody, he quotes it verbatim at some length. Symphonic accompaniment and post-Romantic harmonies alter the effect, but the notes of the themes used foreshadow the "cut-and-paste" trick we all use on our laptops these days.

Not so in "Un bel di"

In the middle of the solo, Puccini subtly inserts six notes are from the song "Jizuki Uta", a workmen's song about the cultivation of rice. Later in Act 2, "Jizuki Uta" will receive the cut-and-paste treatment, when an extended quotation will form the first section of Butterfly's aria "Che tua madre". (Note: we can deduce that Puccini learned of the song from Rudolf Dittrich's piano arrangement of 1894 because the aria uses the same harmonic treatment as Dittrich's.)

In "Un bel di", however, only this fragment is used:

In context, the phrase (it actually begins with an eighth-note pickup) is completely anonymous. Not until Japanese musicians began identifying and cataloging instances of native melodies in the 1930's did anyone understand where these notes originated. In context, there is nothing "exotic" about them; no suggestion of "Orientalism". They're indistinguishable from the rest of the vocal line.

What's important about this mini-quotation are Butterfly's words. She's imagining looking at Pinkerton as he climbs the hill on his way up to their house. That's important to note.

The six pitches come and go, unnoticed by Western ears, and likely many Japanese ears as well; after all, they can't all be experts on historical songs. The action of the opera unfolds until the tragic climax. Chanting an ancient quote about dying with honor, Cio-Cio-san, who has agreed to give up her son only on the condition that Pinkerton return for him, commits her ritual suicide. As her life drains away, Pinkerton's voice is heard offstage, calling her name in desperation.

His calls of "Butterfly!" are not what takes my breath away; it's the material with which the orchestra punctuates those calls:

There they are, sounding forth grimly in the brass: the six-note fragment from "Jizuki Uta".  And if we realize where we've heard them before, we're overwhelmed with a ghastly irony:

What Butterfly imagined is really happening. Pinkerton is indeed climbing that hill on his way to see her, not for a romantic reunion, but to find her dead body.

Here's something to think about. What are the chances that anyone - anyone - who has ever listened to Madama Butterfly on a recording or live in performance has EVER figured out about this detail of the "Jizuki Uta" fragment?

I would say zero, or close to it, especially if no acquaintance with Japanese songs has been made.

So what's the point? One may ask the same question here that I've asked about the intricacies of music of the total serialism compositional school: If the human mind can't perceive what's happening in real time, of what value is the music? What's the use?

My answer: just because you aren't aware of details of craftsmanship doesn't mean they aren't there. It doesn't mean that such details lack meaning, or cannot be perceived. They exist whether or not you are aware of them.

And now you are aware of this one! Those six notes now hold new meaning for you, and in performance you'll understand what Puccini is saying about tragic irony.

I, your Humble Blogger, was completely unaware of this small but powerful detail until a few months ago. It's just not easy to hear.

Final note: like "Ancora un passo or via", "Un bel di" has a lengthy orchestral postlude. The difference: in the former (the entrance aria parsed in my last post), the postlude introduced a new theme, one to be used for dramatic purposes later.

In "Un bel di", however, the postlude restates the opening theme. Did Puccini hope to discourage the drama from being interrupted by applause? He had been studying Wagner lately; this might have been his borrowing of a Wagnerian antipathy for applause in mid-scene. His previous operas were more accommodating in this regard: "Che gelida manina", "Mi chiamono Mimi" and "Vissi d'arte" all invite spontaneous clapping with convenient stopping places.