No 4 -- March 1976 Edited by Michael Walters
UTOPIA LIMITED at IMPERIAL COLLEGE, February 1976
This has been a season for Utopias. First the D'Oyly Carte production, commented on in previous issues. Then there was one at Benfleet, which regrettably I did not see as I was in Wexford savouring the charms of Gillian Knight in Le Roi d’Ys. Then Imperial College produced it, changing course in mid-stream having originally decided to produce L'Elisir d'Amore. I have a great affection for Utopia, there is a fascination about it, the most burning question being, "Why isn't it more popular, where did it come unstuck?" Gilbert's libretto reads remarkably well, and as Tim Frain correctly pointed out in his programme notes, Gilbert's satire is at its zenith in this opera. However, it plays a lot less well than it reads, and performed here, uncut by I.C., the first act ran for one hour and thirty five minutes, which is too long a period to condemn an audience member's bottom to the seats in the I.C. Concert Hall. This included a new Overture written by Max Taylor, which was very charming, but I still think that Sullivan was probably right in doing without one, and confining himself (or Cellier?) to the somewhat insipid prelude, which does indeed survive despite several statements to the contrary. (I have now virtually lost count of the number of "new" overtures that must have been written for Utopia). Ian Gledhill's production was delightful. Apparently he had been to see the Coliseum's La Belle Helene, as King Paramount seemed to be doing an Agamemnon, turning on and off applause from the crowd at will. For a play with such a huge cast it was uncommonly well cast; there was no one who let the side down. The only other really satisfactory amateur production I have seen of Utopia was at Liverpool University some years ago, where there were weak links in the cast. Liverpool overcame the problem of the opera's slow moving first act by sending the whole thing up and cramming it full to bursting with gags and added witticisms. IC. chose to play it fairly straight and sincerely, which made for a few slightly boring passages where Gilbert's rather long-winded setting of the plot was left exposed. However the production proved to be strongest in the very places where Liverpool was weakest, i.e. in the sincere acting of the principals which seemed in many cases to genuinely mirror the personalities of those taking part. John Barratt (whom I have not seen before) was a bouncy, chubby little King Paramount that one could not help but love. He was the epitome of the conscientious but ineffective monarch who compels one's complete sympathy. He sang with a very pleasing tone. Roger Woodward, as Scaphio, was a superb, arch-villain of a scheming politician looking like some huge turquoise and black bird of prey complete with great vulturine hooked nose and sardonic mouth. As Phantis, his partner in crime, Roger Nicholls was the eternal loveable silly twit following wherever Scaphio led. It was a performance of great charm, particularly noticeable for the way he can twist his mouth into the most winning grin. Tim Frain gave a very unusual and interesting interpretation of Tarara, without any of the rages or tantrums, but as a lugubrious old miseryguts looking as if he were perpetually on the point of bursting into tears. Tim Johnson was excellently cast in the role of Fitzbattleaxe, singing and acting with great intelligence. I adored Max Taylor's Goldbury, but perhaps more for personal reasons. It wasn't Goldbury as Gilbert wrote it - the name alone suggests that he is an avaricious money-grubber. Somehow, I don't think Max would have got very far as a Company Promoter: he's too good-natured to push his wares. What came over, however, was his sheer sincerity, so perhaps a few clients might have bought shares simply because they trusted him. And no one could criticise when he turns on the charm and makes his eye twinkle in the way that only Max can. Steve Bodle as Sir Bailey was suitably starchy though a bit low on volume, Steve Chaytow gave a magnificently assured and polished rendering as Lord Dramaleigh and Dick Stockton sang Captain Corcoran more beautifully I think than I have ever heard it. Delith Brook was a very pretty and charming Princess Zara, though she was badly made up and both looked and sounded younger and more innocent than her two sisters, Nek & Kal played delightfully by Lindsay Bott and Heather Davis. The balance was upset here, as they appeared more worldly and experienced than she did, which, of course, in real life they are. Debbie Kemp turned in one of her faultless old lady parts; it has now got to the stage of being difficult to say anything about her performances, she is just so utterly "right" in them. Salata's lines were given to Phylla. The Act 1 set was beautiful. For once Nigel Stevens produced one which had grace and delicacy - with almost rococo-like fragility, instead of the usual walls of good, solid old English stone. The Act 2 set, too, was in similar style, though I could have wished for a bit more decoration. The costumes were beautiful, Utopian semi-eastern-cum-South Pacific, - a sort of never-never Pantomime land of brilliant Scherezade-Arabian Nights colours. I was pleased to see that the faces were not black, nothing irritates me more than seeing Polynesians with faces like negroes.
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