Gilbert and Sullivan: The Mikado
Peter Ellis (baritone) - The Mikado
Ivan Sharp (tenor) - Nanki-Poo
Simon Butteriss (baritone) - Ko-Ko
Bruce Graham (bass) - Pooh-Bah
Richard Morrison (tenor) - Pish-Tush
Marianne Hellgren (soprano) - Yum-Yum
Seeta Indrani (soprano) - Pitti-Sing
Louisa Parry (mezzo-soprano) - Peep-Bo
Nuala Willis (contralto) - Katisha
Royal Carl Rosa Opera Company
David Russell Hulme (conductor)
Eric Roberts (director)
Peter Mulloy (producer)
Saturday 9 June 2001
Regal Theatre, Perth, Australia
The Mikado came to town, courtesy of the revived British touring company now adorned with the title "Royal," amid an avalanche of publicity. This was based (on the one hand) on the "authenticity" of the production and (on the other) on that most contemporary phenomenon, a movie tie-in. Not only are the costumes based on the 1885 originals, but they are also the very ones featured in Mike Leigh's Gilbert-and-Sullivan biopic Topsy-Turvy. Gilbert's own prompt-book has been consulted in order to produce an exact replica of the original production; two of the players are actors who appear in the bafflingly popular English television show The Bill. This sounds like a recipe for absolute disaster - a stuffed and mounted heritage piece with a couple of familiar names to drag in the punters.
Not at all. In wintry (by Australian standards) Perth, this production is, as Yum-Yum sings, "all ablaze with ever-living glory." Its success prompts reflection on the nature of the Gilbert and Sullivan phenomenon in recent times.
Before copyright expired, the D'Oyly-Carte Company, under the aegis of Bridget D'Oyly-Carte (daughter of Richard, the original producer of the "Savoy operas"), exerted a stranglehold over the G&S canon, forbidding productions that were not in the traditional style. Since that long-awaited expiration date, Australian (and other) touring companies have included popular singers (in both senses of the word) and displayed a tendency to rock up the music. In most cases, professional or high-level amateur, there is a general tendency to strive for contemporary relevance, with the evident conviction that the fusty old originals could not possibly carry a modern audience along in their natural state.
The current production, embarking on an extended tour of Australia and New Zealand after Perth, has put its trust in the theatrical and comedic strength of the original - and in the audience. The result is a traditional Mikado which delights at every turn.
The tie-in with Topsy-Turvy is instructive. That film, by a director known for kitchen-sink realism, surprised many with its sumptuous recreation of a period in the life of William Schwenk Gilbert and Arthur Seymour Sullivan. Within that movie, the genesis and opening night of The Mikado are tracked, and there are recreations of several of the musical numbers and sequences. It must be said that they are fairly static, the tempos quite slow, and they are sung by actors rather than singers. The audience reaction does not suggest uninhibited laughter and rollicking enjoyment.
But at this new production, the audience was laughing almost continuously, in totally unforced fashion; toes were tapping and heads swaying in time to the music. The completely polished performance buffed up the old jokes, allowing Gilbert's wit to be revealed anew; what little updating was done was considered and clever. Ko-Ko's little list, a traditional vehicle for local license, had the audience roaring; someone had taken a wickedly close look at recent events in Western Australia. "Oh bother the flowers of spring" was sung with a coarser word, one now officially allowable on Australian television.
The orchestra, a freelance band of Perth musicians, was a little ragged in the overture, engendering trepidation, but after that everything ran on greased rails. The chorus was a miracle of unanimity of voice and movement; all the singers displayed immaculate diction and razor-sharp timing. The two singing actors, Peter Ellis as the Mikado and Seeta Indrani as Pitti-Sing, would neither of them be mistaken for trained singers, but neither was at all disgraced - and Indrani wielded a mean fan. Several of the other singers are English stalwarts of various kinds, with backgrounds embracing the ENO, Glyndebourne and so on; Bruce Graham is in fact a D'Oyly-Carte alumnus.
Simon Butteriss, who had a tiny part in Topsy-Turvy, delighted totally from his first entrance. After the solemn intoning of "Defer, defer, to the Lord High Executioner," this little, fussy, floppy figure provoked a gale of laughter - and maintained the momentum throughout. His "Willow Tit Willow" was taken at rather a slow pace, but the breakneck speed of the subsequent duet with Katisha ("There is beauty in the bellow of the blast") more than compensated. Nuala Willis' Katisha was more than the usual figure of fun, provoking a modicum of sympathy. Marianne Hellgren charmed appropriately as Yum-Yum, reveling in her own beauty and singing a wonderful "The sun whose rays."
It is, however, invidious to dwell too long on individual performances in what is essentially a miracle of ensemble playing. The audience was privileged to be party to that rarest of phenomena, a perfect night of musical theatre.
© andante Corp. June 2001. All rights reserved.
