The only opera that we know for certain with which Jim Morrison had at least a passing acquaintance was “The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny” (whence “Alabama Song”). But I wonder if he was aware of the doors of perception in “Ariane et Barbe-Bleue.”

Paul Dukas’s opera was given its Metropolitan Opera premiere in 1911 with Geraldine Farrar as the lead and Arturo Toscanini conducting (was it during this time that they had their affair?). It played for two seasons and then fell into obscurity; until this current run at City Opera, the opera was presented just one other time in New York, on April 25, 1999, with Leon Botstein conducting the American Symphony Orchestra.

Now Professor Botstein returns with his first staged production at New York State Theater. Apparently he doesn’t have enough to do as president of Bard College, music director of the ASO and, now, the new principal conductor of the Jerusalem Symphony, which he will bring to New York later this season.

The Maurice Maeterlinck libretto, written for Edvard Grieg but ultimately rejected by him, tells the Bluebeard story not only from the distaff side but also from deep inside its own psychological core. Mysterious as only a Symbolist work could be, the tale can be interpreted as a fantasy or hallucination of the new bride. Ariane is on stage from beginning to end, but is never unattended by her nurse. She opens six doors to discover untold riches, and finds five entombment chambers that reveal all the rivals for her new husband’s affections. Like Cassandra at the battlements, she peers out into the audience to witness the bloody massacre of her beloved, ostensibly by the local peasants. At the work’s conclusion, she rather ambiguously leaves simply by closing the door through which she entered three acts earlier. Like the only character in Arnold Schonberg’s “Erwartung,” Ariane’s disjointed thoughts and phrases are virtually the entire content of the opera.

The cultural bookends of the piece may be Kraft-Ebbing’s “Psychopathia Sexualis,” published in 1889, and Robert Wiene’s “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” of 1919. The five spectral wives receive the battered body of their prior tormentor – the now Christ like Bluebeard – sensually, as if he were a new carnal conquest. It is to the credit of this new production, directed by Paul-Emile Fourny, that the quintet have no distinct personalities or even recognizable faces: They are portrayed more as facets of the diamond of one individual personality. And the implication that this entire world is the mad invention of the conflicted virgin bride is stressed by the constant presence of the nurse, who essentially stops singing in the first act but is always near the heroine somnambulist.

The sets of Louis Desire are suitably minimalist and functional. Movable walls and doors take their vitality only from the illumination of lighting designer Jeff Harris. Even these effects add to the one-personality theory, as the treasures behind the six doors are projected as bejeweled aspects of one human face. And, just in case you miss the allusion to the Maeterlinck dream, one of the five ex-wives is named Melisande.

All of this is mirrored in the music, which is overheated in that signature fin-de-siecle way, and steeped in mystery. The opera is rather a short one and, even though in three acts, could conceivably be played without pause, like Alban Berg’s “Wozzeck.” But City Opera chooses to add two full-length intermissions, which left us all out in the lobby almost as much as in our seats.

Mezzo-soprano Renate Behle performed yeoman like service as the focal point of the evening, and certainly deserved a break to regroup. Like the orchestra in the pit, she sounded a bit strained at the outset and just plain tired at the conclusion. Casting Ursula Ferri as the nurse was a bit of a faux pas: Her much more resonant voice might have exercised the proper dramatic authority over her charge, but only served to highlight the disparity in vocal quality between herself and the star.

“Ariane” is not to be confused with Strauss’s “Ariadne,” which is enjoying a contemporaneous run at the Met. At least no one is doing “Adriana Lecouvreur” this season.

Finally, some unfinished business. Cori Ellison, dramaturg at City Opera, contacted me with some compelling arguments why they call Cio-Cio-San’s child Sorrow rather than the more often used Trouble. I see now that either is acceptable, although that is still one unfortunate kid.

“Ariane et Barbe-Bleue” will be performed on October 11, 14, 16 & 22 (Lincoln Center, 212-721-6500).