Madama Butterfly has a most tortured genesis. A tragedy in two acts with a libretto by Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica, it is based on a play by David Belasco which is itself based on a short story by John Luther. Yet it has become one of Giacomo Puccini's most moving and popular dramas.

Over the years, Butterfly has had various stagings by Scottish Opera. The earliest, in June 1962, was the then newly-established company's radiant first production under the baton of Alexander Gibson (his knighthood followed some 15 years later).

The current revival is of David McVicar's rather more shadowy and intense interpretation, first seen six years ago and now restaged by Leah Hausman to introduce the second half of this season as the company continues to emerge from its "dark period" and approaches its 45th anniversary.

Butterfly can certainly be viewed as a reminder of the distant - some would say lost - glories of Scottish Opera. Nevertheless, on the strength of some aspects of this production the beginnings of a brighter future can be detected. As always, though, there are one or two caveats.

Taking the positives first, the orchestra is in good shape. But then it has been kept in employment with a series of concerts and other appearances, unlike the chorus. Moreover, specifically, on this occasion, they have been introduced to the vast talents of the Italian conductor, Francesco Corti. Here is a musician who clearly understands and loves his Puccini and who communicates this to both players and singers with poise and presence. As a result the orchestral detail throughout this performance is dazzling in its clarity and drama.

However, this cannot apply to the choral singing and acting. It is a long time since I have seen and heard any professional opera chorus, let alone a Scottish Opera Chorus, so inept visually and vocally. Without doubt, the company is paying the inevitable penalty for sacrificing its full-time singers. Thankfully, chorus involvement is limited to the first half of the opera.

At the second performance in the run - March 31 - the singing in Act One took some time to find its momentum and only moved the pulses up a notch when Rebecca Nash's Butterfly gradually came to life in the closing stages of the love duet. Understandable, perhaps, given the unattractive pomposity of John Hudson's overblown Pinkerton.

Whatever magic words Maestro Corti had for his cast at the interval, it was all change in Act Two. From the very beginning, Nash was in different mode. The voice, the bearing, the ability to elicit our sympathies were suddenly in full bloom. And with Corti's spacious approach inspiring both orchestra and singer, the radiance of Un Bel Di (One Fine Day) highlighted both the beauty and intensity of Puccini's heart-wrenching music. From that point on, Butterfly's path from naivety to disillusion to final despair held us in ever-increasing and sympathetic dismay.

Among the smaller roles, the impressively rich and cultured tones of Jennifer Johnston's mezzo-soprano brought a tender consideration to the role of Butterfly's maid, Suzuki, while Garry Magee and Harry Nicoll (as Sharpless, the American consul, and Goro, the Japanese marriage broker) produced just the right amounts of sympathy and weasel-like distaste. One non-singing role cannot pass without mention: six-year-old Felix Löffler as Sorrow, Butterfly's son, was quite remarkable given his tender years. If Puccini had given him a song, his musical future would already be assured.

So, ultimately a very enjoyable and moving Butterfly from Scottish Opera. But with the production's most significant and thought-provoking feature being the introduction of Corti, it makes one wonder about the as-yet-unfilled position of musical director at the company.

Various dates to May 30; thereafter touring to the Festival Theatre, Edinburgh (13-23 June) and His Majesty's Theatre, Aberdeen (June 28 and 30)