The established view of opera is that its best moments are grand ones. But the heart of most operas lies in more intimate scenes, pulling listeners into the action rather thrusting it upon them. The best productions prepare those moments, heightening their impact.

Puccini's "Madama Butterfly," for instance, is famous for arias such as "Un bel di" and for the spectacular end to the heroine's tragic life. But Butterfly's Act II vigil for her American husband, Pinkerton, while an offstage chorus hums, is arguably the opera's touching emotional center. Her fate is sealed because Pinkerton is returning with a "real American bride," yet her undying hope uplifts. Saturday night at the Benedum Center, Pittsburgh Opera skillfully brought out that mix of happiness and sadness, which typifies the opera.

Connected to the Cultural Trust's Australia Festival, this production came from the Sydney Opera House and Opera Australia. Visually splendid, the action took place on a stage erected on a pool of water. While it was hard to view from some seats, the effect remained, one of tranquility just out of reach of the protagonist. The set itself had clean lines, sliding walls and minimal scenery, with well-timed surprises.

Sometimes a singer known for a certain role may later seem jaded in it, but Chilean soprano Veronica Villarroel was completely invested. In her company debut she was characteristically young and silly in the first act (though thankfully not overdoing it), while commanding in the second. It's in the latter that the teenage Butterfly has matured beyond her years, and appropriately Villarroel moved from a pure tone to a fuller timbre, tinged with a hollow ache. Even when she sang with beauty of tone, such as in "Un bel di," she phrased in a hesitant manner, as if sorrow lurked around every corner.

This was Frank Lopardo's role debut as Pinkerton, and he will find a little more swagger fits the self-centered character better. The naval officer is an original ugly American with a secret family to boot, but Lopardo played him too much like a gentleman. Part of this perception comes from the tenor's masterful ability to sing with others. While I prefer more bloom at the top of a tenor's tessitura, the sensitivity Lopardo had in the high registers and his ability to blend with others impressed.

Earle Patriarco as Sharpless almost stole the show, however. With a sweet top to a stout voice, he embodied the American consul with a troubled conscience.

"Butterfly" does not take an authentic treatment well. Puccini, who never visited Japan, relied on stereotypes to capture the Oriental exoticism in vogue around 1900. Intriguingly, this production did the same for us. Stage director Moffatt Oxenbould got inspiration for the singers and actors' movement from Japanese theatrical traditions: Noh, Kabuki and Bun- raku. But placed within Puccini's narrow-minded opera, this more-informed treatment still offered an out-of-context view of Japanese culture. In this way, Oxenbould created a contemporary version of the stereotyped allure that Puccini felt for Asia. We may know more about Japan than the composer did, but still there is obviously much we don't understand -- and much that seems exotic.

The orchestra was nothing short of tremendous under Antony Walker. It navigated the agile score with precision but full-bodied tone when necessary. The brass fanfare in Act II was potent and the violins handled other delicate lines accurately. Walker let the group play out, while still molding the sound.

Rodell Rosel perfectly walked the line between cartoon and character as Goro, and Zheng Cao, in a return to the Benedum as Suzuki, again displayed a knack for the tortured role. While the costumes for the Bonze (as Devil) and Prince Yamadori (as Fabio?) were over the top, Liam Moran and Jonathan Beyer sang with power and dignity, respectively. Katherine Drago was a caring Kate Pinkerton and Brent Stater a pious Commissioner. In a silent role, Butterfly's child was played by endearing youngster Dylan Blum.