No 45 Autumn 1997 Edited by Michael Walters
Steamy! sexy! flower-powered! That was what I had been led to believe, but in fact Mark Pullin's production was basically conventional. Not "traditional" in the narrow sense, but taking relatively few liberties - some alterations were made to the dialogue (though most were unnecessary), none with the words of the songs, though some were required. Singing about gold-lace, for instance, sounds kinda daft when you are dressed in green and brown fatigues - and what was the purpose of that, other than economy? The piece was staged in the round, or more precisely, in the middle, with raked seats fore and aft of the stage area, but not round the sides. The orchestra consisted of a flute, two violins and a cello, who were basically good, but under-rehearsed, and on a couple of occasions came in with the wrong piece of music! Under-rehearsal was evident in some of the performers too, and there were quite a few fluffed lines, but to their credit everybody carried on, and there were no prompts the night I attended. Tudor Eames's tempi tended to be slow and unvarying. The overture was omitted.
It was difficult to work out exactly what period the ladies' costumes were meant to be. The Act 1 costumes were certainly pretty, but the black body stockings used for most of Act 2 seemed incomprehensibly ugly, unless they were meant to facilitate the change to the every day young girls. The blockings were picturesque, but there were few production jokes, and the piece was not particularly funny; many of the best lines were underplayed, and suffered as a result. "Fond of fondue" is, I suppose, quite nice to say, but fondue is not in itself as funny as toffee, nor can it be said in as humorous a way, so the change permits of no permutations and the joke is over after the first line. I laughed quite a lot at some of the emendations to the text, but mainly of course because I knew what it ought to be. The change was funny because it was a change, not because the alteration was necessarily funnier or more apt than the original. Nor was any attempt made to use the music for humorous effect. For instance, the long woodwind solo that leads into "True love must single hearted be" went for nothing. The characters merely stood like lemons and waited for it to finish. An opportunity missed! We do not, of course, have any idea what was done in the original production, but one can be sure that Sullivan did not write such a cadenza for no reason, or with the intention that it should merely hold up the action (as it did here): it was put there for a purpose, which Gilbert would have used. If it is not going to be used to create an effect, then it ought to be cut. That's basic stagecraft. Similarly the exchange: "Are you better now?" "Yes. Oh its you" went for nothing, as nothing was done with it. It doesn't have to be the traditional business, but "Oh its you" just doesn't make any sense unless something has happened.
I was talking at the interval to Kevin McRae who was prompting, and he admitted that he was scared by the process. I pointed out that prompting is not as easy as it looks. To be a really good prompt is actually very difficult. Ideally one has to be able to keep one eye glued to the script and the other to the stage. One can only tell by looking at an actor's face whether he/she had dried or is merely pausing or thinking. Societies who place their prompt where he cannot see the stage, effectively put him at the same disadvantage that a singer would be at by being unable to see the conductor. Prompting, like acting, is actually a sophisticated art, which ideally requires an in depth familiarity with the text, and an in depth knowledge of the cast, their strengths and weaknesses. One should be aware (from rehearsal experience) of exactly where they are likely to dry, which actors can get themselves out of a difficulty, and which can't. At a performance, the prompt has a responsibility quite on a par with that of the conductor, but with the difference that ideally his services should not be required! All too many societies regard prompting as something that any fool can do, you just need someone to sit there with a book. This is as absurd as to suppose that acting requires nothing more than learning the lines.
Bunthorne (Mark Fellows) worked hard - too hard really, and had no idea what to do with his hands, except to flay them about, which became very irritating. He sang and acted strongly, but at too unvarying a level. There was no phrasing, no timing, and the part of Bunthorne depends almost entirely on timing. Not once did the actor give me any idea as to what sort of person he considered the charcter to be. There was a hollow void behind the gestures and the facial expressions. I did not feel he really understood the character. This contrasted glaringly with the performance of Menotti Iacoponi as Grosvenor. This was the best performance of the evening and I do not ever recall seeing a Grosvenor to equal it. Every nuance, every degree of light and shade, this performance had everything that Bunthorne lacked. It would have been worth coming to see this performance alone. He knew exactly what to do with his hands, and how to get the maximum effect from every line. A brilliant performance.
I would not have said that the Colonel was really Chris Gutteridge's part, but like the first-rate trooper he is, he gave a performance of quaint charm in the way that only Chris can. But the part gave him no scope to fulful his real potential. The Major must be the most thankless part in the canon but Ian Gowland did with it all that was necessary, but, perhaps, not all that was possible. It is quite a few years since I last saw Russell Bowes in ingenue parts like Frederic and Strephon. He has lost the dewy-eyed wet-eared callowness he had then, and has developed a maturer and slightly camp edge. This was a fascinatingly dry rendering of the Duke. "Your maiden hearts" was absolutely superb. What a pity he didn't get a chance to sing "Though men of rank" - I'd have liked to have heard that.
On the distaff side, Debi Weaver as Patience had charm, and acted with conviction, but I felt that the music was too high for her. Her upper register was toneless and occasionally flat. Similarly with Kim Insley (Angela), I felt the part was too high, and she was struggling with the top notes, but it was a performance of great warmth. Colleen Batsford was a sultry Saphir, if a trifle bland. Marion Cooke made Ella into a memorably quaint cameo and revealed a much stronger high soprano than I would have suspected. Ella is not an easy part, she has to carry a very high top line in many of the ensembles. The rendering of "Go breaking heart" one of my very favourite short solos, was absolutely exquisite. Carol Caplan as Jane started off well, the wonderfully prim delivery of her dialogue in Act 1 was excellently timed. In Act 2, in which act most of her musical work comes, she was less impressive, as her voice was soft and I had trouble hearing her over even the very small accompaniment provided. The idea of putting the dialogue "The fickle crew ... etc" between her recit and song was interesting, and worked well, but here again, no attempt was made to use the cello accompaniment in any way to create a musical joke. This of course is not a reflection on the actress, but on the production. So, an enjoyable evening, but having come expecting a production over the top, this one really barely got off the ground. MICHAEL WALTERS
Web page created 25 July 1998