The beauty of Puccini’s “Madama Butterfly” could render any critique almost unseemly. After all, to hear that seamless music, the moments that turn transcendent — and then to cavil? I’d suggest that even a modest performance, say, even in the dense rainforest (echoing, of course, Werner Herzog’s “Ftizcarraldo”) would still, inevitably, move one. The score simply flows, with audience and performers {…}