No 7 — July 1977 Edited by Michael Walters
Aberdeen University is well equipped with musical Societies, including an opera Club whose most recent offering was Nabucco; but it wasn't till this year that one enthusiastic student had the idea of founding a G & S Society. Unfortunately the result was foreseeable: all the musical talent was engaged elsewhere. For most of the cast, as well as the producer, this was the first time; and though I don't know for certain that this is also true of the orchestra, it certainly sounded like it. The advertising poster should have given warning of what was to come: the opera was attributed to W.S.Sullivan and A.Gilbert. The programme which incorporated a brief but informative historical note including an explanation of Captain Shaw, raised one's hopes a bit; and the overture was played - well, acceptably. But when the enormous and almost bare stage of the Arts Lecture Theatre was invaded by a mob of fairies who tripped and skipped as if competing for a track record, my heart sank. Their enthusiasm couldn't be faulted and their obvious enjoyment was infectious; but surely fairies should be a bit more graceful (and surely one of them could have sung Celia’s solo with fewer than three changes of octave.) [I suspect that the ''elephantine'' fairies is an adoption of the old Wells-ENO production joke. Ed.] The drama was unfolded, by a Queen of impressive appearance and vocal range, but little personality, a musically charming Iolanthe who spoke her lines like a primary school recitation, an utterly inane Strephon, and a Phyllis who for singing and acting was worth the other three together - which, alas, is not saying much. None of them gave the slightest impression of having "got into" their parts: it was simply a bunch of kids having fun. The Peer's chorus (all eleven of them, including the two Earls) took an original approach: tenors and basses trying to out-shout each other (each turning disdainfully away while the other was singing) and out-do each other with the violence of their musical instrument mimes. All right, lads: knockabout comedy is fine but you weren’t doing Pinafore or Pirates, you know. And who had the brilliant notion of making the Peers, after their chorus, unpack a hamper and sit from then until their exit eating and drinking, and not paying the slightest bit of attention to the proceedings? [I guess this came from ENO as well. Ed.] Of the rest of the cast, the two Earls played with vigour if not much dignity. Lord Mountararat especially had a forceful, hearty personality and a voice to match. The Lord Chancellor had no voice at all, though he bustled about in an entertainingly fussy way. Private Willis's military manoeuvres were pretty sloppy, but at least he could sing. Some lines were fluffed - Strephon shouldn't really say "while the time away" and the synchronisation of orchestra with singers (and sometimes of sections of the orchestra with other sections) was unbelievably bad. One major alteration was that "Forbear! Forbear!" was sung solo by the Queen, standing at the back of the stage with what appeared to be an enormous double-headed battleaxe, and the fairies' wordless laments were transferred entirely to the orchestra. In a negative sense, this was probably justified: the chorus were hard enough to hear on-stage, let alone off it. Other alterations - intentional ones, that is, were few: "Inside the Seaton Park" and "He shall cure the worst of ills, On the Devolution bills" (for the "deceased wife's sister" bit) were the only ones I noticed. This may sound strange but I enjoyed the evening: youthful gusto and high spirits can compensate for a lot. Iolanthe is not the easiest opera in the canon, and it was presented at a ridiculous time of year: a week and a half after a month long vacation, and less then a month before final exams. But excuses can only go so far. If they try again next year, as I hope they will, they'll have to do an awful lot better than this.
DERRICK McCLURE
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