Opera Review: The Sword's Upside-Down

The Collegiate Chorale takes on The Mikado.
by Paul Pelkonen

Amy Justman, (Peep-Bo) Kelli O'Hara (Yum-Yum) and Lauren Worsham (Pitti-Sing)
on their way home from school. Photo by Erin Baiano © 2012 The Collegiate Chorale.

Huge vases of cherry blossoms stood at either end of the Carnegie Hall stage on Tuesday night. The plain white plaster panels at the back of that famous stage were adorned with a projection of Mount Fuji. The Collegiate Chorale was in place, behind the American Symphony Orchestra.

Then came the announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that the part of Pooh-Bah, scheduled to be sung by Jonathan Freeman, will be sung by Jonathan Freeman."

This bit of wit was the perfect introduction to Tuesday's endearing, if sometimes sloppy performance of Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado, the witty work that skewered Victorian British society by moving it to the absurdly named Town of Titipu in W.S. Gilbert's version of Japan.

Under the direction of Ted Sperling, both Chorale and Orchestra delivered a fizzy account of the overture and first scene. Mr. Sperling chose fast tempos, driving the famous themes forward. This set up the entrance of Nanki-Poo (South Pacific star Jason Danielly.) He emerged, instrument in hand from the brass section. But instead of the usual Japanese shamisen, Mr. Danielly carried the instrument from the libretto, a serviceable second trombone.

He was soon joined by a trio of fine comic baritones, well known on Broadway. Mr. Freeman (Roger Debris in The Producers)  as Pooh-Bah, Steve Rosen (Spamalot) as Pish-Tush and the energetic, loose comic Christopher Fitzgerald (Wicked) as Ko-Ko, the Lord High Executioner. In a loose black hipster suit, an enormous, shabby top hat and an (upside-down) katana, Mr. Fitzgerald cut a memorable figure as the former cheap tailor. More importantly, his comic energy drove the show, even if he occsionally flubbed a line.

In W.S. Gilbert's libretto, the Three Little Maids enter late in the first act. Here, they fared better than the men. Kelli O'Hara (also a star of South Pacific) was a strong Yum-Yum, bringing warmth and self-regard to "The Sun Whose Rays." City Opera veteran Lauren Worsham was even better as Pitti-Sing, stealing hearts with a flash of an eye and a whistling air. Amy Justman had less to do as Peep-Bo, but brought able support.

Katisha's entrance is always a brilliant piece of theater: Sir Arthur Sullivan's parody of several Wagner heroines (Brunnhilde, Kundry, Isolde) all at once. Victoria Clark brought the requisite voice, a full-powered dramatic soprano and stage presence to Nanki-Poo's would-be fiancée. She threw herself into the part of the vengeance-seeking diva, at one point decking Mr. Fitzgerald during "There is Beauty in the Bellow of the Blast." To his credit, he got up, recovered, and they finished the merry duet. 

The last character to enter in The Mikado is the title character, given the appropriate pomp and circumstance with a genuine Japanese chorus accompanying his procession. Chuck Cooper was comic and magesterial, evoking a psychotic glee in "A more humane Mikado" and letting out a giggle of pleasure as he listed both crimes and punishments. The finale proceeded smoothly, whipped up to a bubbling frenzy as the world of topsy-turvy righted itself and all was well in the Town of Titipu.

Movie Review: Topsy-Turvy

Jim Broadbent as W. S. Gilbert in Topsy-Turvy. © 1999 USA Films

Mike Leigh's affectionate, (mostly) factual and painstakingly detailed account of the partnership of William Schwenck Gilbert and Sir Arthur Sullivan--and the near dissolution of their partnership before writing The Mikado--might be the greatest backstage opera movie in recent memory. And it's being released on March 29 as part of the Criterion Collecton.

The film is set in 1884. Gilbert & Sullivan were coming off Princess Ida, a box-office bomb. Sullivan, newly knighted, was itching to write "serious" music. Gilbert was working on a new story idea, involving a magic lozenge--which Sullivan wanted nothing to do with. At a creative impasse, Gilbert hit upon the idea of setting an English farce in far-away Japan. The result: The Mikado.

Mr. Leigh's film takes you inside the world of these two creative geniuses, thanks to tour de force performances by Jim Broadbent and Alan Corduner as the librettist and composer, respectively. Mr. Broadbent plays Gilbert as a curmudgeon--the funniest man in England who can amuse the masses but barely cracks a smile. He is an irascible jerk, cold and distant to his wife, and absolute hell on his actors.

Allan Corduner as Sir Arthur Sullivan in Topsy-Turvy. © 1999 USA Films

Mr. Corduner does not pull punches with the portrayal of Sir Arthur. The composer is a drug-addicted mess who goes whoring in Paris and can barely get out of bed to conduct the Ida premiere. But the depravities of both men are redeemed by their respective creative genius, and the sheer alchemy that results when they put their minds together on a project.

And what alchemy it is. The core of Topsy-Turvy is a cracking series of lovingly staged excerpts from The Mikado, The Sorceror and Princess Ida, showcasing the multi-talented cast of singig actors--who all did their own work. Timothy Spall is memorable as Richard Temple, the bass whose booming "Mikado" aria nearly meets Gilbert's snicker-snee. Martin Savage is sufficiently decayed as the opium-addicted George Grossmith who originated the role of Ko-Ko. The supporting cast includes brief (but brilliant turns from Andy Serkis, Dexter Fletcher and

The female leads are strong as well. Shirley Henderson, (Leonora Braham/Yum-Yum) Dorothy Atkinson (Jessie Bond/Pitti-Sing) and Lesley Manville (Mrs. Gilbert) are all appealing. The elegant Eleanor David plays singer Fanny Ronalds: Sullivan's mistress. A scene where she and the composer duet on his song "The Lost Chord" at a recital provides the most sublime moment of the early going, while Ms. Henderson's verion of "The Sun Whose Rays" ends the film on a perfect, wistful note.

Recordings Review: Sullivan (without Gilbert)

The Chandos recording of Sir Arthur Sullivan's Ivanhoe.

by Paul J. Pelkonen

"Ivanhoe is the story of a Russian farmer, and his tool."

--Bart Simpson

Written in 1891, Sir Arthur Sullivan's Ivanhoe is one of the most neglected English operas of the 19th century. Composed without his regular writing partner W. S. Gilbert, Ivanhoe is a serious adaptation of Sir Walter Scott's novel of knightly derring-do in mythical English history. Thanks to this recording from Chandos, it is now possible to hear what the great composer of comic operas sounded like when on holiday from the world of topsy-turvy. Ivanhoe is one of the most overdue recordings of a "lost" opera, and a necessary listen for lovers of opera and operetta alike.