No 6 -- April 1977 Edited by Michael Walters
IMPERIAL COLLEGE, OPERATIC SOCIETY, Orpheus in the Underworld, Concert Hall, I.C. Union, Thursday 17th Feb. 1977.
I may be stepping out of my ecological niche in reporting on this, and, indeed in some ways IC stepped out of theirs, it was their first non G&S production: they used a new, specially prepared translation. The problem in adapting any foreign operetta into English is that few of them transcribe well because they were written for un-English voices and un-English audiences. The audience the night I attended seemed a bit non-plussed by it all, and the things at which they sniggered most were glimpses of Roger Nicholls' drawers (not for nothing has this piece been irreverently dubbed " Orpheus in his Underpants") underlined the main thing that was absent - smut! It was all too polite, too decorous, too English! The star of the evening was the conductor, Mike Withers, it was undoubtedly his night, he pulled all the strings and held all the reins. I have not heard conducting at IC to equal it since Stuart Allen conducted The Sorcerer at Budleigh. My main criticism was the diction, it was bad. This was particularly noticeable in the chorus, but I think Roger Woodward (a magnificent Jupiter) was the only one of the principals of whose every word I could hear without having to strain. This may have been the fault of the translation - there were certain places where I felt that the words sat uneasily on the notes, and they cannot always have been easy to sing clearly. Delith Brook was an enchanting Eurydice, but her voice had a curious habit of disappearing in patches and becoming inaudible - though it is a beautiful and big sound when she does open her throat. Tim Johnson (sans beard) was a mellifluent Orpheus, and Dick Stockton a mellow Styx. Richard Wilson was slightly disappointing as Mars, mainly because the production seemed to have missed such a good opportunity to have the part played "camp" or "twee", or otherwise send it up (which would have been in the true Offenbach spirit) by making him the exact opposite of the mythological picture of the God of War. Roger Nicholls was a loveable Mercury (I adored his silver lurex tights). Steve Chaytow made a brave try at Pluto - though I got the feeling that he was perhaps trying a little too hard, and tending to overact in places; still, I hope he stays around and does a lot more. MICHAEL WALTERS
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