“Iolanthe” Casts a Delightful Spell over St Anne’s!
By Michael Burgess, Arts Correspondent
To–Ron–To–Ra, January, 2016
A friend of mine always said that the reason so many people claimed not to like the operas of Gilbert and Sullivan was that they had been introduced to them through second rate productions by amateurs whose enthusiasm exceeded their talents. Having sat through many such productions myself over the years, I have a good deal of sympathy with this observation. On the other hand, there are community theatre groups whose standards rival professional companies and whose productions are of the highest quality. Make no mistake; the Gilbert and Sullivan productions offered by St. Anne’s Music and Drama Society (MADS) are definitely in the second category. If I had had any doubts about this, they would have been dispelled by their most recent production of Iolanthe which I saw on January 31. It was a delight from start to finish, and I congratulate everyone involved with the production.
Of course, they started with an advantage: they were presenting one of the loveliest of all the Savoy Operas, Iolanthe, which dates from 1882 and was the seventh collaboration between Gilbert and Sullivan. With six previous hit shows behind them, both men had arrived at their peak creative years, and Iolanthe showcases both of them at their best. Having been given a near–perfect libretto by Gilbert (author and critic Arthur Jacobs refers to it as “scintillating”), Sullivan rose to the occasion and provided a brilliant and subtle score, and even composed the overture himself – a task he usually delegated to one of his assistants: the only other Savoy Opera overture he wrote was that to The Yeomen of the Guard.
Much of the fairy music Sullivan composed echoes the much–loved incidental music from Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream from 1842. For example, when the fairies sing “Iolanthe!” the musical phrase is a quotation from the end of the famous Overture. Also, for the first time, the score uses leitmotifs, including a distinctive four–note theme associated with the character of Iolanthe, and the music for the Queen of the Fairies parodies that of Wagnerian heroines such as Brünnhilde. As the anonymous author of a Wikipedia article remarks: “The score is wider in range of emotion and style, with innovative use of pizzicato strings, clever and varied underscoring of patter, the tender, sentimental eleventh–hour number for the title character, apt matching of the music to the absurd comedy of the lyrics, and a sustained first act finale with a series of dramatic situations that ends with the confrontation between the fairies and peers.”
Stage Director Laura Schatz, who also gave us a classic performance of The Queen of the Fairies, has a real gift for handling crowds on stage — not nearly as easy as one might imagine — and she certainly had an even bigger chorus than usual to work with. What a thrill to see so many young people in the cast, many of them from the Victoria College Chorus. I am looking forward to seeing their production of Patience later in the year. Their presence lowered the average age of both the fairies and the House of Peers. By the way, I was amused to see dead ringers for both Henry VIII and Richard III (albeit a blond) in the Upper House! Incidentally, did you know that it is the coronets rather than the robes which denote the ranks of members of the peerage? [What does it say about me that I invariable remember such arcane snippets of information?]
Perhaps this would be the right place to mention how impressed I was with the chorus work generally. Both the fairies and the peers looked good, moved well and their diction was exemplary. Unfortunately, I am unable to review the performances of the invisible fairies noted in the programme: I didn’t see them. I couldn’t help wondering whether Tinker Bell and a friend had been imported from Peter Pan!
Having been brought up on D’Oyly Carte performances, and having had the privilege of working backstage at the Savoy Theatre during a London Season, as well as working in the D’Oyly Carte offices, it is hardly surprising that I feel an immense loyalty to and fondness for all things D’Oyly Carte. I confess that this sometimes translates into “If D’Oyly Carte did such and such, it must be right: if they didn’t, it must be wrong.” I mention this to explain my aversion to any deliberate heavy footedness during the opening chorus. When talking about this with Jennie Friesen Garde after the performance, and exhibiting my prejudice, Jennie pointed out that in the vocal score Sullivan marks the music forte staccato, which suggests that he, at any rate, had his tongue in his cheek so far as the lightness of the fairies is concerned.
It was an “Aha! moment” for me. Make a note of this! I concede that I may have been wrong all these years! Maybe Sullivan bowed to the inevitable and recognized that not all his fairies would be dainty and delicate! However, Isidore Godfrey, long term Musical Director of D’Oyly Carte, made no such concession. Neither did Sir Malcolm Sargent. Incidentally, Dame Bridget D’Oyly Carte deliberately ensured that there was an older woman in the chorus to act as “mother” to the younger members of the company (when I first followed the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company it was Ceinwen Jones; in later years it was Beti Lloyd Jones).
Speaking of the fairies, Grace Quinsey as Celia, Angela Forbes as Leila and Shifra Cooper as Fleta all looked attractive and played their roles with grace and style.
Although I was sorry not to have the opportunity to see Tim Wright as The Lord Chancellor, I was pleased to be able to see Roy Schatz give us his energetic and inimitable Lord Chancellor again. I first saw Roy play the role years ago, and age has not wearied nor custom staled his interpretation of one of Gilbert’s most memorable patter men. His Nightmare Song was a tour de force. The stage lighting at the end of it, however, did not reflect the Chancellor’s observation that both the night and the song were over. Apart from this, the rest of the lighting was appropriate and suitably atmospheric.
Jennie Friesen Garde’s choreography was airy and inventive, and I was surprised to learn that she had never previously played Iolanthe. I thought she did a superb job, and I was especially touched by her appeal to the Lord Chancellor. Both she and Roy played the scene movingly, and Roy really listened to Iolanthe’s plea. Many actors don’t know how to listen on stage (or off, come to that!) but Roy provided an object lesson in how to do it.
Jay Lambie as Tolloller gave the best performance I have seen from him thus far. Top marks! Although Marc Potvin sang well and looked as handsome as ever as Mountararat, I was disappointed that he seemed to find so little fun in the part. In my opinion, the scene where he realises that on Tolloller’s demise he himself would then lead the House of Lords has more humour in it than came across at the performance I saw.
Beth Armstrong sang nicely and gave us a charming and vulnerable Phyllis; I had no difficulty in believing that she was a shepherdess. As Strephon, however, despite a strong voice and an imposing stage presence, Andrew Lieflander failed to convince me that he had ever been anywhere near a sheep — I should not have been surprised to discover that his Strephon gave elocution lessons for a living! And the sash he sported in Act Two made him look more like a gondolier than a rooky MP. Also, in the Act One finale, I should not have had him taking quite so many liberties with the peers. Although he now has the Queen on his side, his background would surely have made him more wary of treating such imposing dignitaries with such lack of respect.
Robert Guildford Dudley made the most of his opportunities as Private Willis, everyone’s favourite philosopher. Apparently, despite the fact that the average Grenadier guard is more than six feet tall, Gilbert originally wanted to cast “the smallest man he could find with the deepest possible voice,” according to J. M. Gordon, stage director for D’Oyly Carte for many years. This would have undoubtedly been very funny, and would have made Willis’ appeal to The Queen of the Fairies even more humorous. In the event, Gilbert had to settle for the tallest man with the biggest and deepest voice. At least one of the D’Oyly Carte principals subsequently to play Private Willis wore lifts in his shoes.
Of course, I cannot conclude this review without referring to the orchestra. They were terrific! Maestro Brian Farrow must have been extremely happy with them, and they with him.
No one knows better than I how much work goes into putting on a production. The actors and singers on stage can do nothing without a large team of dedicated volunteers backstage and front of house. Thanks and congratulations are due to every last one of them.
Taken all round, St. Anne’s Music and Drama Society should feel thoroughly content with Iolanthe. I am already looking forward to next year’s production.