Precious Nonsense
NEWSLETTER OF THE MIDWESTERN GILBERT AND SULLIVAN SOCIETY
April 2000 -- Issue 60

 


The moon in her phases is found, The time and the wind and the weather,
The months in succession come round, And you don't find two Monday s together.

Those months do, indeed, come round (though judging from the April snow, they seem a bit confused as to the order in which they should come), and here we are again. In the interim, the critics seem to have flipped for Topsy-Turvy (Rotten Tomatoes --www.rottentomatoes.com (I just love that name)-- gives it an 88% "fresh" rating) and Frederic has celebrated another birthday. Interestingly enough, after taking into account the leap years and should-have-been-but-weren't leap years since 1879, it has been calculated that he has celebrated as many birthdays as our secretary/archivist. Which must mean that S/A Cole is 141 years old.

Well, this time around we have a report on Broken Hearts and The Diary of a Nobody, plus the answers to the Big Quiz. If you have any news or insights, do keep us posted. And don't forget, give me a thrill and e-mail some material to me (MidwestGS@yahoo.com). If you want to send something for the Nonsense that way, that'll be great: It does save a lot of retyping.



 


Oh, Members, How Say You, What is it You've Done?


 


Congratulations to David Craven, who we hear recently got married. We in sincerity wish you prosperity!

Congratulations also to Jerodano Martinez, and the participants in Naperville, Illinois, North Central College's production of Pirates of Penzance. It was selected by the Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival to be part of in the Region III competition in Milwaukee this January! Best wishes for all of their continued endeavors in the area of light opera in general, and G&S in particular.

What Cheer! What Cheer! {Midwestern}

The Gilbert & Sullivan Opera Company is presenting H.M.S. Pinafore for their 40th Anniversary season. We haven't seen the dates for their summer performances yet, but they generally perform their spring show again in late July. In the meantime, For more information, and for more information on the University of Chicago's Music Department's performance schedule, check their web page at http://humanities.uchicago.edu/humanities/music/, and click on the performance schedule label.

I love notices like this: I don't have to retype them. We hear from Gayden Wren that Oberlin College is putting on a virtual G&S pageant in conjunction with commencement. Here is the announcement:

This year marks the 50th anniversary of Gilbert & Sullivan at Oberlin College, and to mark the occasion the Gilbert & Sullivan Players are presenting a unique production of the play "Very Truly Yours, Gilbert & Sullivan," in conjunction with the college's Commencement this May in Oberlin, Ohio.

"Very Truly Yours, Gilbert & Sullivan," written by New York playwright and director Gayden Wren, is a history of the Gilbert & Sullivan collaboration, told through excerpts from their letters and diaries, contemporary memoirs and newspaper stories and, of course, excerpts from all 14 of their operas (and then some). It had a successful run Off-Broadway in 1997, and since then has been produced by several companies around the country.

Wren, a 1983 graduate of Oberlin, will be returning to Oberlin to direct the production. "Unlike the original Off-Broadway production, which featured five actors playing, between them, 65 different roles, this one will feature 65 actors playing one role apiece. The cast will be divided among current Oberlin students and returning alumni, all Players veterans, representing the classes of 1950 through 2003."

The production will be staged in Hall Auditorium, on the college campus in Oberlin, Ohio (30 miles southwest of Cleveland), on May 26 and 27 at 8 p.m. and May 28 at 3 p.m. Admission is $14-- for reservations and directions, call (440) 775-8692 during business hours.

Ohio Light Opera's 2000 season includes a mixture of theater, with works dating from 1878 to 1960, and their G&S works are to be Mikado and Utopia Limited . As a group, their scheduled productions include:

The Gypsy Baron {Johann Strauss} (June 15, 17*, 23, 28*, July 1*, 2*, 11*, 13, 19, 27, August 5, and 12)
Naughty Marietta {Victor Herbert} (June 16, 18*, 21*, 24, 25*, July 8, 12, 18*, 22*, 26, August 1*, 3*, and 10)
Camelot {Lerner & Loewe} (June 17, 22, 27*, July 5*, 8*, 9*, 15, 21, 30, August 2, 10*, and 11)
The Mikado (June 20*, 24*, 29, July 1, 7, 15*, 23*, 28, August 2*, and 9)
Le Petit Duc {Charles Lecocq) (July 6, 12*, 16*, 22, 25*, 29*, August 4, and 9*)
Utopia Limited (July 14, 19*, 20, 29, August 5*, 6*, and 8*)
Der Vetter aus Dingsda [The Cousin from Nowhere] {Eduard Kunneke}(July 26*, 30*, August 3, 6, 12*)

Evening performances are at 8:00, Matinees (indicated by the *) are at 2:00. I don't know if Ohio Light Opera is taking orders for individual tickets, or combination tickets, but it doesn't hurt to get in touch with the company. They may be reached at The Ohio Light Opera, The College of Wooster, Wooster, OH 44691 / (330) 263-2329. Individual tickets for all performances are $30.00. (Incidentally, I'm not criticizing when I mention that you should be careful about ordering tickets this far in advance: OLO is understandably a little sticky about refunding or exchanging them.)

 The Gondoliers will be Light Opera Works' G&S offering this season; and, as a matter of fact, will begin their series. Gondoliers will be presented June 3-4 and 9-11, 2000. And their other shows include Man of La Mancha (August 19-20 and 25-27), and Strauss's The Great Waltz (December 25-26 and 29-31). Performances are at Cahn Auditorium (on the corner of Emerson and Sheridan Road, in Evanston, IL). In addition, they will be giving Tintypes October 7-November 5 at McGaw YMCA Child Care Centre Auditorium (1429 Maple in Evanston). While they're selling season tickets at the moment, individual tickets will probably run from $23 to $52 depending on seating for shows at Cahn Auditorium, and $23 to $38 for Tintypes. Light Opera Works also generally has some reduced-price tickets for those aged 21 and younger. For more information, the business office can be reached at 927 Noyes St., Evanston, IL 60201-2799 or by calling (847) 869-6300. Or look at their web site at WWW.light-opera-works.org.What Cheer! What Cheer! {International}

If you're of a mood to go to Canada and sing G&S, The Gilbert and Sullivan T2K Singout, Eh? might be just the thing for you. I'm not sure what organization, if any, is putting it on, but if it comes off, it sounds like it could be a lot of fun. It is evidently going to be held August 18-20, 2000, at Scarborough Village Theater in the northeast section of Toronto. During those three days, participants will have a chance to sing through all the G&S operas. The price quoted in the flyer for U.S. registrants would run about $66.00 (or $90.00 Canadian), plus lodging. For more information -- and I would strongly recommend closer investigation -- write Toronto Singout; 22 Royal Street; Oshawa, Ontario, Canada L1H 2T6, visit the web site listed above, or e-mail torontosingout@home.com. It does sound as if it would be fun.

(I made the mistake of showing the flyer to my brother, who is still recovering from a Christmas gift of the film Strange Brew. The "Eh" in the title got him going, so he proceeded to read the flyer in the style of Bob and Doug Mackenzie. (And if you don't know what I'm talking about, count it among your blessings. G&S in the Mackenzie style is a scary thought, but I almost hurt myself laughing at his rendition.) Even if we in the U.S. would have to take off to the Great White North to attend, I doubt that the evening socializing will include beer and back bacon, eh?

Other works by W.S. Gilbert:
Broken Hearts

Description by Sarah Cole

 Those of you already familiar with this 1875 play know that it, along with Brantinghame Hall, is one that erudite G&S enthusiasts seem to most enjoy sneering at. It is written in quasi-Shakespearian blank verse, the setting is fancifully medieval and Tempest-like, and the plot would be regarded as "corny". But I like it: in rereading it, I realized how much I do really like it. Although sad, I enjoy the story; and the similes, wordplay, and descriptions need more than a plot description to do them justice. Yet, because it is a product of another era that, because of its style, is subject to gross misunderstanding, I would not like to see it produced. It deserves better than arrogant contempt. The examination of the human frailties -- vanity, misplaced trust, judging by appearance -- and the human virtues -- pity, love, and sacrifice -- that drive the plot are as valid as they ever were.

Happily, many of Broken Hearts' themes and plot devices are also used in Cyrano De Bergerac, and resurface in The Yeomen of the Guard. But when the main comparisons are drawn, the wrong things are compared. For instance, many years ago I was at a conference at which one of the papers presented made the point that the ideal Gilbertian heroine was essentially weak, blighted in love, and dead (one of the characters in Broken Hearts (Vavir) falls in love with a man who doesn't love her and, being sickly, dies at the end). A similarity was understandably drawn with Jack Point, as I recall. The problem with the comparison was that Vavir isn't the play's heroine: her sister, Hilda, is. She is an idea Gilbertian heroine: a woman of strong, controlled character, who will sacrifice her own good for the greater good. Iolanthe fits this mold, as do the heroines of Charity, the much-maligned Brantinghame Hall, and, oddly enough, Jack Point. But maybe that's because the qualities of that ideal heroine are the same as those of the ideal hero: it's just that the G&S operas are, in an abusrdist way, so like real life that they don't have many heroes in them, either -- think about it. But I digress.

In short, Broken Hearts is a much more interesting play than it is given credit for being, as I hope to demonstrate.

The setting for the story is the small tropical Island of Broken Hearts, sometime in the fourteenth century. We learn that this island is the home for six women, five of whom mourn some lost love. No men are allowed there, with the exception of their servant Mousta, who is so deformed and ugly, that he isn't considered fully a man. As the play opens, he is found reading a book of spells. Near him are a little fountain (waterfall) and an old sundial. Another character -- for those stage properties become, in a sense, characters -- joins them: Vavir, who chides Mousta for dealing in magic. Mousta explains that he found the book in a small unoccupied boat that mysteriously landed itself on the island, and he has no intention of giving it up: although the women don't regard him as a man, he is one, and the spells can restore to him a man's handsome appearance.

His desire only amuses Lady Hilda, who follows Vavir on the scene. She reminds him that he is the only man allowed there, since the other maidens there (except for Vavir, we learn later), have vowed to love no living thing again. This only fuels Mousta's passion: he reminds her that "Now, monkey though I be, I am a man / In all but face and form -- I've a man's heart, / A man's desire to love -- and be loved" and, as he exits, berates the women for their contrived affections for the inanimate objects on the island, such as the fountain and the sundial.

Hilda and Vavir reminisce about their coming to the island a year before. When the prince Hilda had loved from afar sailed off to pursue glory and was never heard of again, she had come there to mourn him. Although she had no love to mourn, Vavir had come with her. She is a delicate girl, and in spite of the peace of the island, feels she hasn't much longer to live. But Hilda laughs off her fears. When they had landed, Hilda had made a "thoughtless jest" (her words, not mine) that, since women must love something, they pledge their love to something on the island. She had chosen the fountain, and Vavir the sundial. Vavir, however, has taken her sundial-love seriously. and draws some interesting conclusions about loving a marker of time's passing.

After they leave Prince Florian enters. He is a young man, and duly attracted by the island's lovely residents. Until he meets Mousta. He reveals that he was in the boat that landed, and was able to escape detection through the use of a magic veil that renders the wearer invisible. Mousta is immediately interested. Though he is ugly, he is clever (and, as his earlier remarks implied, in love), and sees the veil as the only chance he would have to woo a woman. He convinces Florian to spend the night in his cottage.

They are interrupted by Vavir, who has come to bid good-night to her sundial. Florian, concealed by the veil, stays to listen, as Vavir tells her love to the dial. She concludes by wishing it had the power of speech to speak its love. Florian, amused by the situation, answers for it, much to Vavir's horror, amazement, and presently joy. He weaves a tale of being a man enchanted into the sundial, who will be released if a maiden would love it truly for a year and a day. But when Melusine (another "broken heart") comes looking for Vavir, he gives voice to her idol, a hand-mirror. As they exit, he is greatly amused at the effect his joke has on them.

But then it is his turn to be affected. Hilda has come to bid her fountain good-night, and he is overwhelmed by her beauty in the moonlight. She tells it of the love she had lost: a certain Prince Florian, but how it (so far as it could) has taken his place in her heart. Florian then speaks through the fountain, telling her he loves her, but wondering what she would do if this Prince Florian should be alive after all. She tell him (as the fountain) that it would be an unbearable, but impossible joy: he (the fountain) should be content for she has pledged herself to him forever. But neither of them realize that Mousta has overheard this vow.

Have you counted all the crises waiting to happen?
 

By the beginning of Act II, Mousta has been able to filch the veil of invisibility, and hides it before Florian enters, looking for it. Mousta argues that he couldn't have taken it because, if he had, he'd be using it, and mocks him for being caught "exposed" on the manless island. Whoever is missing must be the one who has it, and he goes to find out. Before Florian can conceal himself, though, Vavir finds him. She recognizes his voice as that of the sundial, and believing him to be its disenchanted spirit, pours out her love for him (much to Florian's dismay). Not knowing how to tell her he doesn't love her, and recognizing that the blow would kill her, he sends her away with a promise to return presently. Still irresolute, he exits as well.

Now Mousta returns to test the power of the veil, in hopes of gaining the object of his affections: Lady Hilda. (You aren't surprised, are you?) She has come to tell her fountain about Vavir's now-incarnate lover, and begs it, if it can, to take human form. This time, Mousta answers for the fountain, telling her that he can take such form, but fears if he does, she will despise him. He is roughly-hewn, ugly: much like their wretched serving-man. Hilda reassures the "spirit of the fountain" that she has loved him for his generous spirit, and that his appearance would not influence it, but the "fountain" presses her for a token. She casts her ring in the pool, pledging to be his bride. Mousta takes the ring, reminding Hilda "We spurn / The dirt beneath our feet -- but never less / We grovel in such dirt for diamonds, / And sometimes find them there! A comely face / Is but the food of time -- a kindly heart / Time touches but to soften .. ." He reveals himself. Hilda is stunned with horror and amazement. At first she thinks he has so spoken to her as merely a cruel joke, but is revolted when Mousta confesses a genuine love for her goodness and generosity. Telling him she fears he will misuse it as she becomes less desirable, she wheedles from him the veil of invisibility. Once in possession, she violently scorns him: she will keep her promise to be his bride, but he, nor anyone else, will ever see her again. Wrapped in the veil, she exits, to Mousta's eloquent despair.

Florian returns, looking for Hilda. In response to his harsh questioning, Mousta tells him that she is missing: she must have his stolen veil. Hilda returns, unseen, and is amazed to see Florian arguing with Mousta. After his departure, she prepares to reveal herself to Florian, but is stopped by Vavir's arrival. Love has given her new strength and new hope; and only makes Florian's duty harder to perform. He tells her a story of a knight who met a gentle young girl. As a thoughtless joke, he spoke words of love to her, not realizing she would believe them. Vavir gradually realizes he is speaking of her; and Hilda learns that Florian loves her. As he finishes, Vavir recites the end of his story: the girl pardoned him and died. As Hilda prays for her sister's strength, Florian pleads with her that the girl must live, but Vavir collapses in his arms.
 

Act III is set about a half-hour before sunset. Melusine and Amanthis (another "broken heart") watch as Vavir sleeps at the foot of the sundial. Hilda is still missing, and after the others have left to look for Hilda and Florian, Vavir confesses that she fears to die without seeing her again. Hilda has heard her, and reveals herself. But instead of looking for sympathy, Vavir tells her how much Florian loves her, apologizing for having loved him. Hilda tells Vavir that the prince had been sent to the island to save her life with his love: she would disappear and he would soon forget her -- at least she tries to tell her so before breaking down. Vavir knows the truth, and that even Florian's love won't prolong her life, but Hilda insists it must, and disappears. Upon Florian's return, Vavir asks his pardon for her foolishness in misunderstanding his joke, then goes on to reveal that Hilda loves him, and is nearby. After she leaves, Florian wonders why he didn't see Hilda, then realizes she does, indeed, have the missing veil. But how did she get it? Mousta enlightens him: he had stolen it from him, and, taking Florian's place as the "voice of the fountain", had received the token of her pledge to be his wife. He is there to mock Florian's misery at losing her -- at their both losing her. Florian flies at him in a fit of jealousy, prepared to wreak fatal vengeance on the less-than-nothing reptile that should presume to love Lady Hilda. Mousta doesn't protest -- for he wants to die -- but asks Florian if the two of them were evenly matched rivals. Florian's wrath dies with that recognition. He releases Mousta, and apologizes for his harshness. Mousta is stunned by mercy, and gives him Hilda's ring before exiting.
 

In hopes that she will hear him, Florian announces he has her pledge, and that she has nothing to fear. Hilda does reveal herself, but not for the sake of the ring. Although she loves him more than her life, she begs him to save Vavir's life with his love. But what man can so direct his heart? But because he loves Hilda as much as any man can love, he agrees to try.

But it is too late. "There is more Heaven than Earth" in Vavir's face as she returns, supported by the other two ladies. Hilda pleads with Vavir, and Death itself, for her life. But Vavir is prepared to die: "Weep not for me; I have no pain indeed. / Kiss me again; my sun has set. Good night! / Good night!" And so ends Broken Hearts.

Where Can it Be?

We hear from Sara Hoskinson Frommer that her Murder & Sullivan finally went out of print, but they are still available through her website -
www.sff.net/people/SaraHoskinsonFrommer--
and from Howard's Bookstore in, I think, Bloomington, Indiana (Howards116@aol.com, or phone them at (812) 336-7662). If you ask them, they will call her and she'll be glad to walk down and sign a copy to anyone the customer chooses. Her latest books is The Vanishing Violinist, which is currently available from St. Martin's Minotaur (imprint). She has a lot of other intersting links on her web page, having to do with various online and otherwise bookstores, read-aloud sound bytes from some of her books, background information, related associations, and the Bloomington Symphony Orchestra. It's worth a visit.
 

Dover Publications still has available The Mikado in Full Score (ISBN 0486406261 / $19.95). If your local booksore doesn't have it, or would like a catalog, drop Dover Publications (31 E. 2d St.; Mineola, NY 11501-3582) a note, requesting a complete catalog. They also have thrift editions of the libretti of Pinafore and Mikado available, for abou $1.50 each.

And now Oxford University Press has available the vocal and full scores to Ruddigore. I just got the mailing today. It says here the score is edited by David Russell Hulme, and contains"important original or discarded material" (the unpublished material from the Ghost Scene is mentioned specifically). The flyer goes on to say that the items should be available from your music dealer (or try contacting Oxford University Press directly at either their Music Department: 198 Madison Ave., New York, NY 10016; or their Order Department: 2001 Evans Road, Cary, NC 27513; or try e-mailing qac@oup-usa.org. Their web page, if they have one, wasn't listed on the flyer). The Ruddigore vocal score (ISBN 0193243520) runs $19.95, and the full score (ISBN 0193423504) costs $150.00. In addition, Oxford University Press has recently released Singing Solo Sacred--one for high voice, and one for low voice--which includes three songs of Sullivan's. They are "God shall wipe away all tears", "Refrain thy voice from weeping" and "The Lost Chord". But there are a lot of other old favorites included as well. The books run $18.95 each, and the ISBNs are 0193457849 for the High Voice volume and 0193457857 for the Low Voice volume. As always, look before you buy; but at least you'll now know what to look for.

 If any of you are ever called upon to design web pages, and find yourself having to post something while the site is under construction, be sure to at least put the organization's address and/or phone number on the "under construction" message. The reason I bring this up is because the Musical Heritage Society (P.O. Box 3006; Oakhurst, NJ 07755-3006 / (732) 531-7003) has a web site now -- www.musicalheritage.com --, but it doesn't give visitors any useful contact information. But at least you know where to reach them. And if you like a variety of quality music, joining up might be just the thing for you. They now have available The Detroit Concert Band's recording, made under the baton of member Leonard B. Smith, of the complete marches of John Philip Sousa (on 5 CDs: 630000T: $74.95). And those are dandy recordings, too; Sousa's Mikado March is as enjoyable as the rest of them. Say, I didn't know this: according to the description in the Musical Heritage Society's Review, Leonard B. Smith is also noteworthy as the trumpeter who played the fanfare from the William Tell Overture on the Lone Ranger radio program!

Another interesting recording available from MHS is Gilbert & Sullivan: Five Famous Operettas (5 CD set: 805000W, $44.95), consisting of Mikado, Yeomen, Trial by Jury, Pirates, and Pinafore. Solosits include Donald Adams, Richard Suart, Felicity Palmer, and the Chorus and Orchestra of the Welsh National Opera, under the direction of Sir Charles Mackerras. I've also seen this one available in stores, but a lot depends on being in the right store at the right time.

The Diary of a Nobody, by the Grossmith Brothers

A Report by Sarah Cole

I never in a million years dreamed I would enjoy going to Branson, Missouri. With its reputation for being a midwestern Las Vegas (with all those celebrity shows, I mean), and all its glitz and hillbilly-ness, it just sounded like an obnoxious destination. But I did go there last October, and I really did enjoy it! The people there were unfailingly helpful and pleasant, and there were plenty of things to do besides see shows. The College of the Ozarks has an entertaining museum and mill, the home of Rose O'Neill (of Kewpie fame) is nearby, and one could spend days at the outlet malls.

Now, this is not intended as a plug for the Branson Chamber of Commerce, but an explanation of another thing I never in a million years dreamed would happen. One of the stores at one of the outlet malls was a bookstore. And I was dumbfounded at some of the "high-brow" books they were unloading: things like Anthony Hope's Rupert of Hentzau, E. Nesbit's The Phoenix and the Carpet, and -- here's where I fell over -- the Grossmith brothers' Diary of A Nobody. (And I really did fall over: I was sitting on my heels to look at the books on the bottom shelf, and was so surprised at seeing it, I rolled over backwards.)

This book is noteworthy, partly because (especially if you like Victorian-era literature) it is funny, and partly because author George Grossmith is the same man who created most of the comic baritone roles in the Gilbert and Sullivan operas. I can't draw any more G&S connection than than that of the author, and the sense of the era in which Diary of a Nobody and the operas were written, so I won't try. The first reference I had ever seen to the book was in Leslie Ayre's Gilbert and Sullivan Companion, in which the "nobody" is referred to as "the egregious Mr. Pooter." At the time, I had to look up the word "egregious," and learned it meant "flagrant" or "very bad". So I assumed it would be a story about some nineteenth-century "stinker". It turns out that, Mr. Pooter is more of an unconsciously pathetic combination of Babbitt and The Born Loser: he tries to follow the (albeit superficial) rules of good social conduct, and invariably falls on his face.

 The book's introduction explains that the text originally appeared in serial form in Punch magazine, between May 1888 and May 1889. The format lends itself to serialization. The Diary of a Nobody is written as, obviously, the diary of Charles Pooter, a clerk for a London mercantile concern. He is not a "somebody", but an comfortable, inconsequential, middle-class "nobody". He gets along well with his wife Carrie, is bewildered by his teenaged son, and fairly worships his employer. He putters around his house as an amateur handyman. He is proud of his ability to make silly puns (they're dumb, but cute, even when his friends do unaccountably take them for insults). He also has about as goofy and self-centered a collection of friends as anyone should find himself cursed with.

Although Mr. Pooter is a "nobody", his activities show that he longs to be a "somebody": and much of the humor of the series of diary entries comes from attempts to crash higher society. He regularly brags to his diary about speaking with important people at church, and of attending important social functions. Invariably, these episodes turn out badly: he'll stumble when with the "somebodies", or be the victim of a string of disasters at the social functions. His loss of dignity, however, is our gain of mirth. For example, in one chapter, the Pooters are invited to the Lord Mayor's reception. After great plans and pains for their appearance to be a success, the grocery boy arrives in time to ruin Pooter's suit, they are accosted at the ball by one of contractors who have been working to put their house in shape, and leave early after falling while on the dance floor. Like "A" and "B" in See How the fates their gifts allot from The Mikado, while "A" dies (figuratively) in misery, you are "B". Another ball they attend turns out to be a "dutch treat" affair: a fact they don't learn until the waiter presents them with a bill. One of my favorite parts is the one in which one of Mrs. Pooter's fashionable friends gets her interested in spiritualism. This incident differs from most of the others, in that, in the end, the fashionable friend is made to look foolish (for a change).

A running subplot of Mr. Pooter's trying to get his ne'er-do-well son a job (not to mention tring to protect him from his own waywardness) adds some tension to a book that would otherwise be an amusing series of "pratfalls". But all is resolved happily in the end.

The book was not at all what I expected; but more enjoyable than I had hoped. Although the Pooters are attempting to put on airs, they do it with such innocent dignity that the reader sympathizes with them, instead of despising them. After all, as I started to laugh at the silly things the Pooters were doing, I realized I was actually laughing at myself, because I had done things just as dumb for the same reasons. Only I was fortunate enough to be a "B".

The paperback copy I found was published in 1994, so it should be easy enough to get from your public library through interlibrary loan. It's entertaining enough to be worth the effort.

The 1999 MGS Big Quiz Answers

This year's big winner was Gayden Wren (of Yours Truly, Gilbert and Sullivan fame), with runners-up being Barbra Edson Lewis, Phocion Park, and Carol Lee Cole. The Big Prize this year, by Mr. Wren's choice, was a copy of the book Dick Deadeye and a First-day cover of the G&S stamps issued in England a number of years ago. The Runners-up have yet to pick their prizes. In the meantime, these are the answers we had to the questions:

1. With what or whom is Captain Corcoran supposed to exit to his cabin? With Celerity.

2. Who brags about his whistling ability? Major General Stanley does in "I am the very model of a modern major general", though one respondent points out that he is most likely bragging about his knowledge of popular music and not his whistling ability.

3. Can you whistle all the airs to that "infernal nonsense Pinafore"? Sixty percent of respondents said NO. But it generally was because the respondents couldn't whistle. So, maybe Major General Stanley had reason to brag about his whistling ability after all.

4. How many times are the words "moon" and "June" rhymed in the Gilbert and Sullivan operas? In Colonel Fairfax's song "Is Life a Boon" in The Yeomen of the Guard.

5. Can you name the invocations that appear in the Gilbert and Sullivan operas? We're taking your word for it on this one: the answer is either "yes" or "no" depending on whether the answerer can do it. Although it wasn't part of the question, we counted two that were labelled invocations: One in Iolanthe (the Queen of the Fairies calling Iolanthe) and one is in Princess Ida (Ida invoking Minerva). There's one incantation: Sorcerer (John Wellington Wells putting the "whammy" on the love potion in the teapot, and a couple of appeals that might count as invocations (Robin appealing to his ancestors in Ruddigore, or Strephon calling his "mighty protectress" in Iolanthe. Can you think of any others?

6. Name the Chinese characters in The Gondoliers. There are more than I thought, it appears. The obvious ones are "Sing Hi" and "Sing Lo", who are referred to in Marco and Giuseppe's song "For Everyone who feels inclined" in the first act finale. But other Suggestions were "See See" (or is that the Spanish character: one of my favorite children's stories is about a Mexican girl named Cici), "Say So", the triplets "Gore O, Fore O, and Corps O"; and a Tartar; also "An-Lee Tu" ("they, alas, are only two"), Tra La, "Ah Wo" (is me), "Ah Mi" (Ah me, you men...), and Pra Tling (And left him gaily Pra Tling with a highly respectable gondolier...).

7. Name someone you know (or know of) who reminds you of a G&S character, and explain why. The answers were surprisingly close to home. One remarked how her cat reminded her of Mad Margaret, since she was black as Margaret is generally dressed in the second act of Ruddigore (and that, like Margaret, she is bissel meshug). One remarked on a friend named Holliday who can appear to be prattling about trivialities and suddenly say something to the point (and that, by stopping by an ATM on Monday, can become a Bank Holliday - OoooOh!), and one made very flattering comparisons between our secretary-archivist and Princess Ida. S/A Cole was duly flattered, but believes that the comparison lies in the fact that they both try to set the Thames on fire, and only succeed in giving themselves hotfoots. Another remarked that Al Gore reminds him a little of Pooh-Bah, in that he pretends to know everything and to wear many hats. S/A Cole thought of several, too. Boris Karloff reminds her of Despard Murgatroyd, in that he played all those scary characters in movies, yet when his friend Cynthia Lindsay was writing his biography, she couldn't find anyone -- including his ex-wife and his widow's ex-husband -- who would say anything bad about him. Like Sir Ruthven Glenaloon (from Gilbert's A Sensation Novel, who is also reminiscent of Despard Murgatroyd), he was a fine fellow outside the novel (or movies, in this case). Sutematsu Oyama, whose story is told in the book Unexpected Destinations, reminds her of Princess Zara, in that she was sent from her island nation, in this case Japan, to learn Western ways to help modernize her homeland. As strange a comparison as it appears, Robin Williams reminds her of Jack Point (now that WOULD be interesting casting!). While looking for something else on the Internet, S/A Cole kept running across reviews remarking on his inclination toward playing unhappy clowns. Jack Point is about as miserable a buffoon as they come. After more than a century, we still aren't tired of Master Point's misery, but the upshot of Williams' critics' complaints was that they wished he'd quit. Well, as Jack Point remarks, they don't blame you as long as you're funny. Like Jack Point, I expect Robin Williams has his own troubles and whatnot, so I'm not going to blame him, whether he's funny or not. Finally (although this comparison is actually Gilbert and Cellier-based, it's too good to neglect), about twenty-three years ago, a fairly young and definitely talented actor took a role in what he expected to be a dud sci-fi potboiler. After all, it beat living under a bridge. Well, that potboiler turned out to be Star Wars. Like Bartolo in The Mountebanks, Anthony Daniels, who created the role of the android C-3PO, was forced to impersonate an automaton; and (as was Bartolo's case), the label to the potion that must have made him one in fact was lost, because he's hardly been allowed to play any other character since! But at least he wasn't stuck being a robot playing tragic Hamlet (which was the uncomfortable position Bartolo found himself in). Although Daniels had to play opposite what amounts to an animated wastebasket, and Bartolo at least had a pretty Nita/Opheli-aton, Threepio was the only cheerful spot in a plotline that got progressively gloomier as the films wore on. If "to be or not to be" is the question, I've always been glad the "Bartolo" of Star Wars was who he is. And let's leave it at that, for now.

8. Name your favorite G&S opera. Answers included Patience, Ruddigore, Yeomen of the Guard, and two for Iolanthe.

9. Name your favorite G&S song. Although it doesn't rank as a favorite opera, the majority of the favorite songs came from Princess Ida: "I built upon a rock", "The World is but a broken toy" and -- well, the respondent actually said "I'm called little Buttercup", but since I know her, I know her real favorite is -- "Would you know the kind of maid". Other answers included "If you're anxious for to shine" from Patience, and "If you go in" from Iolanthe.

10. Can you name all the G&S tunes quoted in the ballet suite Pineapple Poll? Several respondents said they could, and knowing what I do of the respondents, I believe it! I can't without coaching, however.

11. Name the G&S operas you have not seen in live performance. Answers included Yeomen of the Guard, Utopia Limited, and the G&S version of Thespis. I fear we'll have to wait a long time for THAT one, except in conjecture. For those of us who are directors or producers, keep this list in mind the next time you schedule G&S performances.

12. Find an allusion to a G&S opera in another literary work, and cite it. One respondent pointed out that Pinafore is referred to in Pirates (and in Utopia Limited, too, come to think of it), the screenplay for Chariots of Fire is an ongoing allusion to G&S works, The Gondoliers is alluded to in George Gissing's The Odd Woman, and mystery writer Charlotte MacLeod regularly has her characters appearing in or referring to G&S operas. Although Isaac Asimov was well-known as an avid G&S enthusiast, S/A Cole never quite "forgave" him for using G&S allusions in his short story "Runaround". When Speedy the robot goes goofy, he starts spouting phrases from the G&S operas. Oh, well: he was obviously mad enough, I think, if he sings choruses in public, as Mad Margaret might have pointed out. S/A Cole's favorite allusion IS a favorite because it's so obscure: in Booth Tarkington's The Magnificent Ambersons, one of the characters recalls an old waltz song: "Oh love for a year, a week, a day, But alas for the love that lasts alway". The song is a G&S non-opera collaboration called "Sweethearts", which follows the plot of Gilbert's play by the same name. Another, which could hardly be called an allusion, but still brings G&S to mind is in the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz: after the Scarecrow gets his diploma and lets loose with the Pythagorean Theorem, he exclaims "Oh Joy! Rapture! I have a brain!" I almost fell off my chair when I realized what he had said.

13. In what year was the first G&S collaboration presented? It would have been 1871: when Thespis was first presented.

14. How many Gilbert and Sullivan-related books does your public library own? Answers ranged from None to Fifty-three. The reason for this question was twofold, by the way. One was to fill space in the quiz, and one was to see if there are any items the MGS could donate to libraries members use. We still have a copy of the Stedman biography of W.S. Gilbert, one of the latest edition of the Benford G&S Lexicon, and some recordings. If we can be of service to your local library, please do let me know. These items aren't doing anyone any good in my basement.

15. Who is described (metaphorically) as an Oak? Roderic Murgatroyd is so described, but a couple respondent pointed out that Princess Ida refers to the student body of Castle Adamant as an oak, also ("I leaned upon an oak, but in my hour of need...").

16. Who is described as a duck? Although he may be "dunderheaded", Giuseppe in The Gondoliers "distinctly is a duck." Anna Russell once pointed out in one of her demonstration folk songs that "'tis very dreary to be married to a tree." (See previous question). Let us trust that Tessa doesn't find it so being married to a duck.

17. Who is described as an owl? Katisha is described as an "ill-omened owl" during the first act finale.

18. Name the G&S operas in which the comic baritone does not, or is not, married to the contralto. They are Thespis (which doesn't really count), Trial By Jury (no contralto lead), The Sorcerer (though Mr. Wells does have a close brush with pairing!), Pinafore (Sir Joseph gets the Mezzo), Pirates of Penzance, Patience (another close brush, but "Nobody be Bunthorne's Bride"), Iolanthe (he gets the mezzo again), Princess Ida, Ruddigore (though he is violently pursued by the contralto), Yeomen of the Guard (Nobody be Jack Point's Bride, either), Utopia Limited, and Grand Duke (though they are engaged. A previous engagement interferes with the proceedings).

19. Name the paired comic baritones/contraltos. They are Ko-Ko and Katisha and the Duke and Duchess of Plaza-Toro. As we see, Anna Russell's description notwithstanding, the little man who sings the patter songs just as frequently ends up paired with the mezzo-soprano or nobody at all as he does with the "great fat contralto with a voice like a foghorn". Let that be a lesson to you!

20. Name the last G&S opera you saw performed live. Answers included Mikado, Sorcerer, Pirates, and Iolanthe.

21. Who is described as "the fairest flower that blows"? Rose Maybud, in Ruddigore.

22. Who characterizes herself as a violet? Another Ruddigore girl, this time Mad Margaret.

23. Something is described as "a very daisy". What is it? Grosvenor's decalet in the second act of Patience "Gentle Jane" -- is so simple he describes it as a daisy. To digress, my father's degree is in outdoor education, and from him I've learned that daisies and other flowering plants are not especially simple, but I'm not about to argue with a poet.

24. Who was "the fairest flower that ever blossomed on ancestral timber"? In Pinafore, Captain Corcoran so refers to his daughter Josephine.

25. Who is said to be "as fair as a peach blossom"? Colonel Fairfax describes Elsie Maynard as being that fair.

26. Make up a G&S-related riddle, and tell it here. (For instance, How does Frederic return to civilization? Ruthlessly.) And there were some cute ones. One of my favorites is one I heard from "Mister Gilbert and Sullivan", the late Warren Colson: "What did Ko-Ko say when he saw Katisha's elbow? 'What's a nice joint like you doing on a girl like this?'" Oh, well. Others included "Who are the camera twins in Iolanthe? Blossom and Bud Leica." "How meaningful was Elsie Maynard's life with Colonel Fairfax? It was Pointless." "What did Sir Joseph have before he got married? The Hebe-geebies." "What does a Mennonite say when you ask to borrow a hammer? 'I'll lent thee.'" But the best ones came from Gayden Wren: "How many G&S buffs does it take to change a light bulb? It's a traditional bulb: we'd never change that." And "Why did the Plaza-Toro family cross the sea? To get to the other side." (OooOH no!) But I screamed out loud with laughter at this one: "How many G&S characters does it take to change a light bulb? 21: One to hold the bulb, and twenty to sing 'Turn, o turn in this direction."

27. How many G&S operas involved switched babies? There were two.

28. Name the operas and the switched babies referred to in Question #27. They are Pinafore and Gondoliers. That's two out of fourteen, regardless of what Anna Russell says.

29. "If you're anxious for to shine in the high aesthetic line", what "must excite your languid spleen"? "A sentimental passion, of a vegetable fashion" and "attachment, a la Plato, to a bashful young potato, or a not too French french bean."

30. Name the mothers that appear in the G&S operas. The ones that are specifically identified as mothers would be Mrs. Partlet and Lady Sangazure (Sorcerer), Buttercup (Pinafore: she says she is, although none of her natural children appear in the opera), Iolanthe (Iolanthe), Lady Blanche (Princess Ida), and The Duchess of Plaza-Toro and Inez (Gondoliers). Elsie Maynard's mother is referred to in Yeomen, but she does not appear as a character. There could easily have been some in Thespis and Grand Duke, too, considering the family connections among the actors, but none are specifically identified.

31. How did Major General Stanley acquire his ancestors? They came with the chapel when he bought his estate. We have some "ancestors by purchase" in our family, too. Somebody picked up a bunch of turn of the century photographs in an album somewhere, and since they were better looking than our own relatives, we started making them honorary ancestors. But the real ancestors were more fun: we weren't smart enough to make up the goofy stories the family had about them! Come to think of it, the fact that Major General Stanley only bought the ancestors and not their history may be the only reason his ancestors did have an unstained escutcheon.

32. How are the thespians punished in Thespis? Can you think of a more appropriate punishment? If so, name it. They are condemned to be eminent tragedians who no one ever, ever goes to see. Only one respondent suggested a better punishment, though it is an amplification of the existing one, and that was (since the Mikado is something of a sadist) the gods become comedians and the Thespians be cursed to be their audience forever. That would be pretty bad.

33. Name the love triangles you can think of in the Gilbert and Sullivan operas. This was a terrible question: I hadn't counted them beforehand, and there really are a plethora of them! A number of unrequited loves appear, that could be regarded as part of a triangle, but the professed loves -- two people admitting to loving the same person -- are the ones that are counted here.

Thespis: Thespis-Nicemis-Sparkeion and Nicemis-Sparkeion-Daphne.

Trial by Jury: Defendant-Plaintiff-Co-Respondent (although she does not appear in typical staging, that triangle is the motivation of the story).

Sorcerer (though most of them are a result of the love potion's influence): Alexis-Aline-Dr. Daly, Constance-Notary-Dr. Daly, Mr. Wells-Lady Sangazure-Sir Marmaduke. But one respondent pointed out that probably the most obvious one is Alexis-Aline-Alexis's ego, which I'm incluned to agree with.

Pinafore: Ralph-Josephine-Sir Joseph (with unrequited loves between Captain Corcoran and Buttercup; and Sir Joseph and Hebe. Or at least Hebe!)

Pirates: Frederic-Ruth-Mabel (though it is pointed out that this triangle is evidently forgotten by the second act.)

Patience: Patience-Bunthorne-Grosvenor, The Lovesick Maidens-Bunthorne (and later Grosvenor)-The Dragoon Guards, and The Lovesick Maidens-Bunthorne-Grosvenor)-Patience.

Iolanthe: Strephon-Phyllis-Lord Chancellor, Strephon-Phyllis-House of Lords, Phyllis-Tolollor-Mountararat, and in a way, Phyllis-Iolanthe-Lord Chancellor, although Iolanthe is the only one who is aware of it.

Princess Ida: The closest thing to one is Lady Blanche-Princess Ida-Ida's position, to take a cue from the answer to Sorcerer's triangle.

Mikado: Nanki-Poo - Yum-Yum - Katisha, Nanki-Poo - Yum-Yum - Ko-Ko

Ruddigore: Robin Oakapple-Dick Dauntless-Rose Maybud and evidently Dick Dauntless-Rose Maybud-Zorah. The Old Adam-Dame Hannah-Sir Roderic one also fits the definition, but seems to be stretching somewhat.

Yeomen: Jack Point-Elsie Maynard-Leonard Meryll /Colonel Fairfax, Phoebe-Elsie-Meryll/Fairfax, and Wilfred-Phoebe-Fairfax.

Gondoliers: Oddly enough, the only love "triangle" is a polyhedron: The Palmieri Brothers-The Contadine-The Gondolieri. The other forced connections don't have reciprocation.

Utopia Limited: Capt. Fitzbattleaxe-Princess Zara-Scaphio and Phantis.

Grand Duke: Again, the reciprocation is missing, but the closest thing to a triangle is Duke Rudolph-Baroness Krackenfeld-Princess of Monte Carlo. Ludwig finds himself with several unwelcome attachments (Julia, Baroness, and Princess) that keep him from his almost-bride Lisa, and annoy Ernest, but the fact that they are unwelcome keeps them from being real triangles.

34. How long was Despard Murgatroyd Baronet of Ruddigore? Ten Years.

35. Without peeking, name the first sentence of The Mikado's opening chorus. "If you want to know who we are, we are gentlemen of Japan; on many a vase and jar -- on many a screen and fan, we figure in lively paint; our attitude's queer and quaint -- you're wrong if you think it ain't, oh!" One respondent pointed out that it is a notorious run-on sentence.

36. What is the first sentence of H.M.S. Pinafore's opening chorus? (Go ahead and peek) "We sail the ocean blue, and our saucy ship's a beauty; we're sober men and true, and attentive to our duty."

37. Who sings the opening chorus of Utopia Limited? The Maidens of Utopia.

38. W.S. Gilbert wrote numerous plays that were not collaborations with Arthur Sullivan. Name up to five of his plays that you have read. Lots of people have read lots of things: I probably should have asked what people hadn't read and would like to!

39. Arthur Sullivan wrote many pieces of music without the influence of W.S. Gilbert. Name up to five of his works that you have heard. Same problem as above. What a knowledgeable group we have!

40. Children's books based on the G&S operas are published every so often. Find one through your public library, name the book and the author here, and the opera that is being retold. Children's books that were available included Gilbert's Story of the Mikado, Martha Mearn's retelling of The Mikado, and Dick Deadeye. It looks like we need to get to work to create some more.

41. In The Mikado, how does the throng their joy advance? "With laughing song and merry dance".

42. If you couldn't locate the book described in Question #40, name the G&S opera you would like to see as a children's story, and why. If you did find a story, name one anyway. Two suggested Ruddigore, because it's both funny and scary (and that seems to go over well these days), and three suggested Iolanthe, because children like fairies and pomp. S/A Cole has often wished that science fiction writer Lester Del Rey had had Isaac Asimov's interest in G&S: since Del Rey's stories are generally more personable than Asimov's, he would have been the ideal one to make a SF rendering of Iolanthe. The Sorcerer has possibilities as a children's/young reader's book, too.

43. Pick one of the banquets described in the G&S operas, and name its menu. Everybody named the menu from The Sorcerer: Tea, eggs, ham, mustard, cress, strawberry jam, buns, muffins, toast, Sally Lunns. Must have been a wedding breakfast banquet! The only other meal described as a banquet is the one in Gondoliers, and all we are certain that they had there was macaroni and rusks.

44. A number of story songs (songs that tell stories) appear in the G&S operas. Name the operas in which someone sings a story about 1.) an egalitarian king, 2.) a love-sick monkey, and 3.) a despairing bird. They are Gondoliers ("There was a king, as I've been told"), Princess Ida ("A lady fair, of lineage high"), and Mikado ("On a tree by a willow" -- "Tit-Willow").

45. Prove your answer for Question #3, and tell us how you made out. As mentioned earlier, the problem was generally with the whistling, rather than with lack of familiarity with the material.

46. How does Alexis expect Aline to prove her love for him? Do you agree with his reasoning? He expected her to drink the love potion herself (admittedly, as he drank it himself) so their love would be assuredly permanent. Everybody thought he was pretty selfish to make that request.

47. Who is described as a "Broken Flower"? The Plaintiff in Trial By Jury.

48. Name the names of two other G&S-organization newsletters. Answers included The Titipu Tatler, The Trumpet Bray, Toronto-Ra, Taradiddles, The Palace Peeper, The Katisha Scream, GASBAG (though it's big enough to qualify as a magazine), Oh, Horror -- one produced by the late Winfield Smith -- and one that I think was once suggested but never used: The Happy Dispatch.

49. Name all the sets of brothers and sisters you can think of in the G&S operas. This question was badly worded, because it was looking for brother/sister relationships, not brothers and not sisters. The ones we came up with included Sir Joseph and unidentified members of the ladies' chorus, Psyche and Florian, Ida and Arac, Guron and Synthius; and Phoebe and Leonard Meryll.

50. How many G&S operas are set in England? I count eight (or seven and a half): Trial by jury (the half of one), Sorcerer, Pinafore, Pirates, Patience, Iolanthe, Ruddigore, and Yeomen.
 

Bonus Question: Jimmy Durante performed a song called "I'm the Guy Who Found the Lost Chord". Name the notes that comprise that chord. We'll have to work on this one: nobody knew the answer either.

Well, we're working at clearing through the material we have for another issue; but don't let that stop you from submitting anything: there are all sorts of interesting things going on that S/A Cole misses. In any event, please do keep in touch! The Nonsense is only as good as the material our members provide!

Midwestern Gilbert and Sullivan Society
c/o Miss Sarah Cole -- 613 W. State St.
North Aurora, IL 60542-1538
midwestgs@yahoo.com