The Gilbert and Sullivan Newsletter Archive

GILBERTIAN GOSSIP

No 37 -- Summer 1991     Edited by Michael Walters



PRINCESS IDA. Grosvenor Light Opera Company. Kings College Theatre, Strand, London. Wednesday 10 April 1991.

After the reviews I had received from William Kenney of this society's THE GRAND DUKE and RUDDIGORE I was expecting a bizarre production, but in fact it proved to be quite traditional in its approach. The curtain rose during the overture to reveal the chorus in a "freeze" picture, against a medieval stone walled castle, elegantly dressed in colourful medieval costumes. The dialogue was delivered in a fairly declamatory Shakespearean blank–verse style – which can easily lead to boredom (in one or two places it nearly did) but was clearly in keeping with the general style of the production. As well as speaking in blank–verse style, the cast moved elegantly, struck melodramatic poses, and generally underlined the fairy–tale atmosphere of the piece. In contrast to the colourfulness of Hildebrand's court, where (one gathered), everything was sweetness and light, Gama was dressed in sombre browns with a spiky iron crown (in contrast to Hildebrand's elegant gold one), and the three brothers in slightly rusty armour looked predominantly brown too. I assumed this was to suggest that Gama's court was rather dreary, just the sort of place from which Ida might well have fled.

Michael Crow was a genial but authoritative and firmly sung Hildebrand, whose subjects clearly loved and admired him and the stand he was taking against Gama. Christopher Roberts was a bland Gama, hardly bitter or vindictive, but with a resignation to his fate.

Act 2 was staged in what appeared to be a bower on the edge of a cliff, bushes as side flats, and rocks at the sides of the back, but only a sky cyclorama centre back. There was an insignificant bridge at one side, off which Ida fell most unconvincingly. The only departure from convention in this act was to have an ape and a lady act out the story of Psyche's song. It was most distracting and unnecessary.

Janet Crossman acted Ida with great charm and power, but her voice, although fine, has not really the necessary dazzle, particularly on top. Although powerful, it is basically a soft–grained voice, lacking steel. She has over the years develloped a distressing wobble, as well as a lisp. These were not present when I first heard her. The wobble became less pronounced as the evening wore on, till by Act 3 it was barely noticeable. "O Goddess Wise" was muted, and did not excite as it should, but in her work in the concerted numbers of Act 2, she revealed a sweetness. In "I built upon a rock" the wobble only appeared on a couple of held high notes, though "I drew a thord of thteel" was unfortunate.

Blanche (Janet Brothers) was prim, thin–lipped and smug – the sort of village lady who is chairperson of the parish council and orders the vicar about. Psyche (Esther Silber) was rather cold, and tended to be over–emphatic in her delivery. Her entry line "These ladies are unseemly in their mirth" was spoken as if she were the town crier making a proclamation. Melissa (Barbara Rayner) was sweetness and charm. Cyril (Matthew Wyles) was the best by far of the three young men, with a clear, high and particularly beautiful voice, though I could have wished he could have sung the Kissing Song more elegantly than demonstratively. Although good, it was not the treat it promised to be from his work earlier in the evening. Hilarion (Colin Decker) had less personality. Julian Marland was an abrasive Florian.

Brian Morris was a strongly sung Arac, supported by Matthew Andrews and Paul Gray – though their programme biographies contradicted the cast list as to which played Guron and which Scynthius!

Act 3 was played in a courtyard against battlements vaguely based on the old Bridges–Adams DOC set of 1919–39 (illustrated in Rollins & Witts). Blanche had donned very risible gilt armour. There were a number of cuts in the dialogue, which did not, as far as I could see, serve any useful purpose. Yet the worst line in the play "His sting is present but his stung is past" was left in. "Come mighty must" was performed, but the singer's voice was not really up to it.

MICHAEL WALTERS



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