No 8 — November 1977 Edited by Michael Walters
D'OYLY CARTE (new production) Iolanthe, Sadlers Wells Theatre, Summer 1977.
Expectations were mixed for this new production of Iolanthe, and nobody I spoke to afterwards seemed particularly enthusiastic about it. It is the dreariest production I have seen for a long time. The first act is a ponderous gothic set of dark grey and silver, with the fairies, and Phyllis and Strephon clad in black, white and silver, the entire greyness of the opening being unrelieved till the Peers enter with a burst of colour. It was an interesting idea, but it just doesn't work, for the bright robes of the Peers were not sufficiently bright or numerous enough to make any significant difference to the grey stage. It smacked horribly of a Zeffirelli "La Traviata" takeoff which had misfired. The dreary stage seemed neither like Arcady nor fairyland. I was expecting that the second act would be the exact opposite, gaudily coloured so that the drab fairies would look as out of place in the world of men as the Peers had looked in fairyland. No such luck; we had an even greyer and drearier set than before, with what looked like Dracula's castle on the backdrop, attached to which was a bridge spanning nothing, and ending in mid–air. It looked rather like a reluctant dragon. Phyllis was in a pale grey evening gown, and Strephon in a grey frock coat (is that correct for the evening?). If the set was meant to be a comment on the greyness and bleakness of Britain's present economy, then it gloriously succeeded. Scenistically, this type of treatment comes 16 years too late, the effect was so exactly like a second–rate version of the ENO production as to be uncanny. This is just the production that DOC should have done about 1961, and be scrapping now in favour of something a little more exciting. However, as DOC have been accused of living in the 19th century, to be only 16 years cut of date is perhaps something of an achievement. The production varied between the dull, the gimmicky and the mildly interesting, the best bits were those that most nearly resembled the ENO production. Some of the individual performances, however, did make it worth while. Patricia Leonard as the Fairy Queen sang and spoke with more charm and intelligence than anyone since Gillian Knight. Her voice is not big, but she makes such a beautiful sound it didn't seem to matter. It was a pity that her costume made her look like Carabosse. One hopes her voice does not go the way of several other DOC contraltos with overwork. Gareth Jones made a marvellous Strephon, perhaps the best since Leslie Rands, certainly the best I have seen, and Jane Metcalfe was enchanting in the rather unrewarding part of Iolanthe. Even John Reed, stuffy as he was in the first Act, contributed some real emotion in the second, particularly in his scene with lolanthe. "Iolanthe, thou livest" brought tears into my eyes. The one thing that seemed unchanged and unchanging was Kenneth Sandford's familiar and beloved rendering of Private Willis. When he appeared at the beginning of Act 2 a sigh of relief went round the theatre at the sight of the familiar portly, scarlet–clad figure, the one seemingly comfy thing in this gothic fantasy of bad dreams. Royston Nash seemed nervous, and several mishaps occurred in the music on the first night. The middle of "If we're weak enough to tarry" got itself tied in a horrible knot, and in "Said I to myself said I", Nash appeared to be pulling the orchestra into the same rhythm as the singer, the result sounded very peculiar. MICHAEL WALTERS
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