1.2. Dubious Plot - Trite Music - BUT
1.3 Most Consistently Popular
1.4 It's Overrated!
1.5 Diminishing Credibility
1.6 Plus ca Change
1.7 Not Director Proof
1.8 Was she amused?
1.9 All but perfection
1.2. Dubious Plot - Trite Music - BUT
Sandy Rovner wrote: I think I've read all the criticisms and analyses of Mikado none of which explain its durability and incredible popularity. Sure the plot is dubious - is Lohengrin or Rigoletto, for examples, any better? I think there are two simple things that make it: An incredibly singable score and a political satire that never needs updating (although it does get updated--I think entirely unnecessarily.) The NYCity Opera did a Mikado here in DC in the middle of Watergate. It could have been (and I'm sure many members of the audience thought it had been) written the day before. Isn't there ALWAYS something going on it could be applied to? The music could seem trite to those of us who've sung it since our cradles, but it IS easy to sing. Ron Orenstein replied: I think we may be dealing with an intangible here - the quality that makes something a "hit". Why do some songs, movies, operas, plays have a huge success while others that might seem far more interesting to connoisseurs do less well? If I knew I'd be rich. As someone once said, if it were so easy to write Mikados everyone would do it, for what could be more profitable? The other side of this, of course, is a natural tendency for we specialists to sneer at the biggest hit G&S wrote precisely because the hoi polloi (a Greek remark) like it without having the sense to prefer Ida, Ruddigore, Iolanthe or whatever. The trick, I think, is to come back to it after a long absence. No, it isn't my favourite G&S - but what a good show it is, and how well it keeps up a consistent level of energy and humour (to me its only longueurs are "Were you not to Ko-Ko plighted" and the glee, and the dialogue crackles from start to finish)!
Derrick McClure wrote: Since we're looking for the reason for The Mikado's place as the most consistently popular of the series, and we've noted (correctly, as surely most of us will agree) that though both G and S performed magnificently their performances are not THAT much more magnificent than in several other operas in the canon - could we perhaps find the reason in the simplest fact of all - the Japanese setting? Japan is, to Western eyes, both exotic and beautiful - ancient Egypt, say, or pre-conquest Mexico, are exotic but not beautiful; lots of places and times from European history are beautiful but not exotic; but Japan is both (of course, I'm talking of the superficial, stereotypical if you will, impressions that most people have) - and traditionally, productions of The Mikado evoke the cherry-blossom-and-kimono image that stirs the European imagination so delightfully. In support of this, the second most popular G'n'S (to the general public, not necessarily to connoisseurs like us) is The Gondoliers which also combines the two partners at their best with an exotic setting (though much less so than The Mikado). Of course, I'm a Japanophile but does this strike the Net as plausible, or just as too obvious for comment? Bruce Miller replied: My opinion is that you've hit on of the factors which make Mikado posterity's choice. But it goes further than that: the sharpness of the conflicts in the story and the high stakes, with others have mentioned; the sureness of plotting and pacing; and the overall high level reached in the dialogue and the music. It's so beautifully constructed as a theater piece, and flows so well, that we tend to overlook the technique and craft which went into constructing it -- because all that effort is so wonderfully concealed. It is truly an example of art concealing art.
Louis Wernick wondered: Or is it that Mikado may be such a favorite with the general public because it requires less "expectation or preparation" for a general or "unschooled" audience to appreciate? This is not the case for Ruddigore, for example. I wonder whether the REAL answer lies in the fact that those G&S operetta which are more easily understood with considerable background are enjoyed by the "specialists" and those like Mikado which make perfect sense on first hearing are enjoyed by the public-at-large, including those who don't often go to other theatrical comedies?
Bruce Miller replied to this: The reason Mikado is more successful with the public is that it is, quite simply, a better written work than Ruddigore. It flows more smoothly, dramatically, and has fewer inconsistencies of style. Sullivan (again quite simply put) scores more perfect 10's in Mikado than he does in Ruddigore, and gives us fewer of what we might term "serviceable, if less inspired" musical numbers. Whatever considerable merits Ruddigore possesses, it is not as felicitous a collaboration, when all is said and done, as is Mikado. A less charitable way of explaining the characterization in Ruddigore vs. in Mikado is that, however complex or deep the characters may be, the fact is that they are probably more memorable in Mikado than in Ruddigore. Is there a single character in Ruddigore who has become sui generis, as has Pooh-Bah? Is there a female character in Ruddigore who makes as strong an impression as does Katisha? Is Robin a match for Ko-Ko? While it would be a stretch to call Ruddigore pale in comparison to Mikado, it would be equally misguided to suggest it is superior to Mikado. We who love G & S may find Ruddigore fascinating for any number of reasons, but let's not make the same mistake as the Verdi enthusiasts who are unable to enjoy the towering masterpieces as much as the Luisa Millers.
Tom Shepard replied to this: I agree that by any reasonable analysis, Mikado is a highly superior work, and its craftsmanship and originality are virtually unchangeable. But, speaking personally, I would rather listen to Ruddigore. For me it has more musical highs, and a fair amount of extremely attractive and outrageously exaggerated characters. I like it more than I do The Mikado, even as I must admit that Mikado is a superior piece of (unified) work.
Mike Nash wrote: OK, time for me to put in my oar. Is it just me, or is The Mikado vastly overrated? Certainly it's , as is all G&S - even when they're at their weakest they're still miles better than the very best efforts of certain other authors/composers (the task of filling in the blanks I'd rather leave to you). But I don't think, even from as objective a standpoint as I can muster, it's much better than Ruddigore, or Ida, or Patience. [Mike later developed his arguments about the Plot - Section 2.1 below- and the Music - Section 3.1 below.]
Paul McShane replied: I'm inclined to an opposing view to that of Derrick. I had been trying to think of reasons why we of the "inner sanctum" don't rate Mikado up there right at the top of our favourites - although, of course, we value it highly. We ranked it third favourite - well behind Iolanthe, just behind Yeomen, and just ahead of Patience and Gondoliers. [At the time of this discussion, members of Savoynet had recently conducted a survey to rank their favourite operas in order of preference.] I don't believe that you can say that our greater familiarity with Mikado would cause us to like it less, and perhaps there is something in Mike Nash's comment that you get all the opera's beauty after seeing/hearing it a couple of times, whereas operas like (especially) Patience seem to grow on you. (Like Mike, I didn't much like Patience the first few times I made its acquaintance, but it has got better and better.) To get back to Derrick's point, I think the Japanese setting might (I say, might) help the big bang impact on anyone first seeing the performance, but it seems to have a negative effect on my appreciation of the opera in my mellowing years. The reason is that it tends to lessen the credibility of the characterisation, and makes it more difficult for us to empathise with anyone in the cast. I feel the same way about Gondoliers, incidentally.
David Duffey wrote: I believe The Mikado to be a very useful literary source for the study of late Victorian history. It certainly provides an insight into the success and acumen of Japanese business: the strategy which made things Japanese longed for and The Mikado topical must be one of the marketing triumphs of all time. Contrast this with the commercial policies of Britain at the time, which, in broad terms, relied on an artificial export market based on the 'civilising' of under-developed cultures and nations. In Pooh-Bah one has glorious evidence that corruption was as endemic in central and local government then as it is now - a fact unacknowledged in most standard text books; but of course it would be, those in power tend to choose the text books. The mores of society are also well reflected. There are men willing to use the body of a women to attain their own ends, and the woman is adept at using that asset to attain the best for herself. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and those with it have no regard for the feelings of others, again well reflected in The Mikado. Ah! A literary source for the 1880s? Not much has changed has it? Perhaps that is why The Mikado is still relevant.
David Craven wrote: A while back we were arguing which, if any, of the G&S Operetta's were director proof. Several people have argued that Mikado is the most director proof. The more that I look at it, the more that I realize that while it is not as delicate as say Sorcerer, it is still an opera which can be very easily destroyed by the wrong kind of hand at the wheel. For example, it is VERY important, as noted by Cathlin Davis, [Section 6.2.3 below] to understand that the show is not Japanese, but rather is about English people playing at being Japanese. Trying to be "authentically" Japanese or trying to "parody" the Japanese (ala the "Gentlemen of Japan" with briefcase in hand) simply does not work. It is also a show in which, quite frequently, a poor director will misinterpret the villain of the show. The Mikado is not a villain, and in fact, is not a particularly sinister character. (For example, William Conrad as the Mikado would not at all be effective (even if he were still alive)). Rather, the Mikado is best played as a light comic figure. Further, Nanki-Poo can be misplayed as a clean upstanding hero, when in fact, he is the villain of the piece, unwilling to live up to his legal and contractual obligations and willing to let others pay for his mistakes while he goes off in bliss and joy. In sum, the show has many levels, and if these levels are not properly played, the show will end up coming across as flat. (As an interesting sidenote... I have never seen or been in a bad production of Patience, but I have only seen or been in one acceptable production of Mikado. The rest ranged from not good to horrid. In fact, two of the three worst G&S productions that I have ever seen or been involved with were both Mikados (and the other a Sorcerer.)
Bruce Miller replied: I agree with David but only in part. The character of the Mikado, as played by its creator Richard Temple under the author's direction, was much closer to what David describes than the stock villainous character some of the D'OC people turned him into after 1911. But Nanki-Poo is a villain in only in torturously twisted post-feminist thought. We have long discussions about this, but to sum up the non-revisionist side: Nanki-Poo was involuntarily committed to wed Katisha, whether or not there was any legality to it, and a "contract" implies the consent of both parties - assuming, of course, there a contract, of which there is no evidence in the text. To have submitted to this situation without a struggle would have made Nank into a terminal wuss. Katisha, on the other hand, is obsessive, disruptive, clinging, and altogether (in the immortal phrase of Tom Shepard) a pain in the ass. Eventually she is dissuaded from this path, and yes, she is on occasional a pitiable figure, but hers is a longing not shared by the object of her desire. No amount of rationalizing or wishful thinking will change that fact, nor the concurrent fact that she wants to get her way by any means necessary. Surely her behaviour is not admirable, nor should it be condoned. Pitied, perhaps, but not condoned. She deserves what she gets at the end - nothing more, nothing less.
Eugenia Horne observed: For those interested, this is Queen Victoria's review (reprinted in "Queen Victoria Goes to the Theatre") of The Mikado:
"The music is gay, but to my thinking, inferior to "The Gondoliers", and though there are witty remarks and amusing topical allusions, the story is rather silly."
Bring back The Gondoliers?
Paul McShane opined: Act I of Mikado is marvellous. It has a great opening chorus, the best tenor song in the canon, two fantastic trios (BTW, have you noticed how may really brilliant trios there are throughout all of G&S? - perhaps we should try to rank them all one day - a difficult job!), great dialogue and lyrics, and a succession of Gilbert's best characterisations (for instance, if you've been able to follow the endless discussion about whether or not N. Poo is a villain or a hero, you'll surely conclude that he is an admirable shade of grey, just like real people - q.v. the discussion of characters in OOTW: Yeomen). Best of all, in Act I the plot keeps moving forward at a good pace.
Act II cannot possibly sustain the excellence of Act I, and it doesn't. After a pleasant and unexpected musical interlude, we are launched into the weakest number in the opera. When Leta was bemoaning the dearth of good women's music in Mikado, I suspect she had "Braid the raven hair" in mind. Neither Bruce, Rica nor Dan, who took issue with Leta, [See section 3.5 below] mentioned this number as being good. It seems that Sullivan was unable to fit Gilbert's lyrics properly: "weave the su-uh-uh-uh-upple tre-ess", "her lu-uh-uh-uh-uhve-liness". I know I'll be attacked for this, but I am not a fan of "The sun, whose rays", either. I can admire the counterpoint of the soloist's voice over the droning accompaniment, but I don't like the tune. For me, the song is merely an excuse for the lighting technician to show what can be done with sun and moon backgrounds. Barclay Gordon's posting [See section 3.3.3] echoed my reservations about this number. Then we come to the madrigal. This is OK, I suppose, but there are much better examples or madrigals in the other operas. Around these numbers, the lyrics and dialogue are uninspiring, and the plot completely stagnates. The next song is "Here's a how-de-do" - vigorous enough, but not up to the standard of the other three trios in the piece. IMHO, its propensity for being encored owes more to the slackening of pace from the start of Act II than to the innate worth of the number. Finally, the Mikado is announced, and we get back to the brilliance of Act I again. With one exception. I do not like, and never have liked, Kasha's song. I think it is boring, unnecessary and incomprehensible to the average audience: what is a theatregoer to make of "the living eye"? The number almost always comes over as the excuse to hear the fat lady sing before the end of the opera. But don't conclude from the foregoing that I am not a fan of The Mikado - I have just highlighted what, to me, are the weaknesses. The rest is great.
Robert Jones replied: Paul, you're throwing your spanner in once again, which is always enjoyable. I disagree with most of what you said, but in particular your comments about .. "Here's a how-de-do". This is one of my favourite songs in all G&S. How can I be objective? I was nurtured on it and will continue to regard it fondly. The words are delightful and the music rollicking. So there.
Nick Sales had two points to make on this:
1. Wandering Minstrel is almost certainly the most popular with audiences, but speaking as primarily a G&S tenor, I'd place it a long way down my list of favourites to sing. Give me "Is Life A Boon", "A Tenor, all singers above", "Thine Is The Power" etc. any day.
2. The Madrigal, and its surrounding dialogue/plot. - Part agreement here. I find the plot, and more particularly the dialogue hereabouts to be among the worst and most stilted I am ever called upon to utter. The lines "..a week? well, what's a week.." and "....there's a silver lining to every cloud.." I always find very awkward, and IMO, this scene just doesn't work. However, regarding the madrigal, I'm firmly behind Bruce. It's wonderful to sing in, the interplay of the four voices is great, and, given sensitive singers, can be very rewarding indeed to sing.
Page created 7 March 1999