I went to the season premiere of the Metropolitan Opera’s production of Madama Butterfly yesterday. It was a lot more elaborate, with a cast of geishas in technicolor kimonos, black-clad ninjas holding the lanterns and sliding panels, and sakura petals falling for the duration of ‘viene la sera’ and ‘vogliatemi bene’. They even had a flock of origami birds flying in formation to illustrate the robins that signal Pinkerton’s return. But I liked the City Opera one better: this one had a WTF moment during the second act, when after the humming chorus there was some kind of interpretive modern dance with a bald guy in a white jacket holding a golden fan and a geisha doll. City Opera’s version was simpler, but more visceral.