That's what Act One was like. A Cio Cio San as good as they come, as beautifully wrought as Cheryl's Cio Cio San always is, and not quite like any of her others, because, (un)like snowflakes, no two have ever been exactly the same. Perhaps she was a slightly more fragile and serious Cio Cio San this time than the last. Actually, the differences from performance to performance are more complex than any pair of adjectives I can throw at them. At any rate, she was wonderful in the way I expected her to be wonderful, all the tiny revelatory surprises included. Since I thought it was her farewell performance, I couldn't help watching her with that in mind, wondering if the added emotional charge of a farewell affecting her performance. Sometimes I fancied I could hear or see that it was, but it could just as easily have been the power of suggestion on my part — and now I know that it must have been.