Mothers in Opera

Starting our list off on a positive note, Cio-Cio San is a loving mother to her child, Sorrow.

In Act 2 of Puccini’s Madam Butterfly, Pinkerton has returned to America, leaving his bride to fend for herself. Unbeknownst to him, she has given birth to their child, Sorrow, in the intervening years (who’ll be renamed Joy when united with his father).

Despite the name, Sorrow is a happy child, not knowing why his mother is sad much of the time, and is often depicted by a young child or a puppet. Looked after and loved by both Butterfly and Suzuki, the Pinkerton’s arrival throws Butterfly into a maelstrom of emotion, especially when his new bride is revealed.

When Kate Pinkerton and Sharpless tell her Pinkerton intends to take Sorrow with him, Butterfly’s woe becomes palpable, reluctantly relinquishing the child to the American couple, for he will have a better life with them in her eyes.

Knowing she has little to live for without her child and without Pinkerton’s love, she commits suicide with her father’s knife. A good mother, with a heart-breaking ending.

Following on with the theme of less than ideal mothers in Mozart operas, in The Marriage of Figaro, Marcellina is Dr. Bartolo’s housekeeper, and twice Figaro’s age.

Despite this, she looks to blackmail him into marrying her (unaware, at this point, of her close relationship to him). She conspires with Bartolo against Figaro, who previously helped Count Almaviva ‘steal’ his ward Rosina (as depicted in Gioachino Rossini’s The Barber of Seville,  based on the prequel play by Pierre Beaumarchais).

When it is all but certain that Marcellina will be Figaro’s bride, the revelation occurs that Figaro is in fact Rafaello, Marcellina’s lost child she conceived with Bartolo. Thankfully Marcellina swiftly gives up on her plans to marry Figaro, instead deciding to marry Bartolo, marking the second marriage
to happen that same day. No wonder it’s also known as “La Folle Journée” (‘The Mad Day’)! Truly remarkable mothering indeed.

Whilst much-less conventional and certainly not particularly kind, Aunt Lydia is a mother figure towards the a group of Handmaid in Poul Ruder’s The Handmaid’s Tale.

Based on Margaret Atwood’s seminal novel, [Poul Ruders’s The Handmaid’s Tale plunges us into the Republic of Gilead, where women have been entirely stripped of their rights and freedoms. Women who live in sin are indoctrinated as Handmaids by Aunts and the Aunt in charge of the entire operation is Aunt Lydia. Given the job to keep these women in line, Aunt Lydia is a hard-lined and sometimes aggressive mother figure.

Of course, a shout out must also go to the Handmaid’s who bear children for the Commanders which are then taken away from their mothers to be cared by someone else. Completely heart-breaking!

An introduction to The Handmaid’s Tale

An interesting case – whilst the mother has a seemingly constant presence in Ravel’s L’enfant et les sortilèges, she barely appears. Beginning in media res with the child being reprimanded for his behavior, the mother is represented by a huge skirt, towering over the small child and giving a child’s-eye view of the proceedings.

After his scolding, the child throws a tantrum, before being interrupted by the sentient furniture of the room, in pain and miserable from being thrown around the room and damaged. Realising the pain he caused, the child tries to make amends, but to no avail. Left alone, he cries out for his mother, ‘Maman’.

The child finds new compassion within himself, bandaging an injured squirrel in the garden his room has become. Changing their minds about the child, the denizens of the garden lead him back to his room, normal once again. In thefinal bar of the score, the child greets his mother, with the lesson she intended for him learnt: compassion towards all things.

Ravel’s opera, set to the libretto by Colette is only one act long, making it an accessible opera for children and adults alike. The fairy-tale like story has a great moral for today’s children to learn, and a perfect entry point to opera!