Pirates of Penzance: Review

Rating: ★★★★☆

(This review should appear at Opera Britannia in due course)

Scottish Opera and the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company have set sail with a sure-fire summer hit with their new production of Pirates of Penzance. A real crowd pleaser, this production deserves the success that it will undoubtedly have.

It became quickly obvious during the overture that this was a production that we were intended to laugh at. The seagull saw to that, first being heard crying plaintively above the sound of the orchestra and then appearing on strings from the very top of the proscenium and flying around over an azure curtain. When a pirate boat also appeared on strings from on high to float around on the sea that we were now seeing shimmering in front of us, before ramming into a large map of the West Country that had dropped down in pythonesque style from the heavens it was equally clear that the audience was not supposed to stop laughing from beginning to end.

Musically this was also a confident performance with strong leads and some phenomenal choral singing.

The Pirate King was first up on stage. Steven Page  led a competent crew  who appeared slithering about the deck of a cartoon ship. His voice had a satisfying dark molasses rum quality about it rather than the more effete pirate sherry which was soon being shared among the hands. The pirate crew themselves were shipshape in every respect. Buckling their swashes to and fro as the deck apparently surged under them they still managed a cracking first number that was to foreshadow strong and confident choral singing throughout the piece.

Rosie Aldridge’s Ruth was next. Her maid of all work certainly was intended to look plain but there was nothing plain about her voice which was notable not least for the most impeccable diction as well as a warm and comely tone.

Two lead couples are alternating as this production tours. On this first night, Nicholas Sharratt and Stephanie Corley sang Frederic and Mabel and did so as a pair of innocent and bemused youngsters never entirely sure what was happening to them – he dipping into a volume of “Scouting for Boys” for tips on how to behave just as often as she looked into a copy of “Scouting for Girls”. Sharratt’s lyric tenor tone fitted his character like a glove. Though clearly more at home in the upper register, he was never found wanting all evening. Miss Corley’s Mabel meanwhile was a bluestockinged delight. Although I did not immediately warm to her voice, it soon became clear that what she could do with it was delicious. Fortunately, Mabel quickly gets the chance to dazzle with dizzying coloratura delights and Miss Corley took the opportunity of decorating all her cadenzas with sparkling surprises to demonstrate what she had to offer.

Richard Suart had the Modern Major General’s patter off pat to be sure but was much more entertaining whilst his daughters were squeezing themselves into a tight chapel all around him at the start of Act II.

Graeme Broadbent’s  Sergeant of Police came straight out of the ministry of silly walks. There was nothing silly about his voice itself which was deep and rich. However there’s only so much comedy one can take and still listen to the music at all. His comic movements, gurning face and Yorkshire accent conspired a little to detract from the singing.

There were generally too many accents going on through the production. Neither Broadbent’s comedy Yorkshire policeman’s accent nor Andrew McTaggart’s comedy Glasgwegian Samuel (the Pirate King’s Lieutenant) did much to add to the fun. Someone seemed to have forgotten that a clipped Received Pronunciation heard in Glasgow is far funnier than the vernacular.

The daughters themselves were a wonderful ensemble of chattering beauties who were easily the equal of the male chorus.

Indeed, it was the choral singing of Hail Poetry that produced the most dramatic and surprising moment of the whole evening. Singing full-face to the audience, this was an astonishingly powerful paean that simply pinned the audience to its seats whilst causing every spine to tingle. After this chorus had hailed poetry, one wanted to stand on one’s seat and declaim verse to all around. It would be worth seeing the whole show just for that breathtaking cry of praise.

Visually there was much to look at. Costumewise, this was a fairly traditional production – full bustles and petticoats on the many daughters, pirates with blacked out grinning teeth and plodding policemen looking just as ridiculous as real policemen in helmets always do. However, designer Jamie Vartan seemed to have decided that in his mind, Roy Lichtenstein and the entire Monty Python crew should be in the wings conspiring to send pop-art cartoon props flying around them all. It did work and contributed hugely to the relentless humour.

There does come a moment when one has to ask what it being lampooned though. The Savoy Operas were great satires on the society around them. The only really significant weakness in this production is that the laughs (and there are a great many of them) are not so much sending up Victorian morals and Victorian institutions but sending up Victoriana in general and the operas of Gilbert and Sullivan in particular. One has to wonder when the laughter dies whether that is entirely the point.

Had all the pirates been Scots intent on harrying Little Englandshire in these pre-Referendum days in Scotland then we might have been on to something rather biting. All the more so if their piracy had been bought off with seats in the House of Lords. Ermine clad pirates bowing down to a tartan bedecked Victoria might well have nudged the production back into the satirical sea that Mr Gilbert surely intended us to navigate, never sure whether our pretensions would founder on the rocks of irony and sarcasm. As it was, this was a relatively safe production that steered well away from making us actually think about ourselves.

Of course, satire-lite played for laughs is only one custard pie away from slapstick and this production veered frighteningly close to that meridian more than once.

Notwithstanding those reservations, it isn’t difficult to recommend this show. It is laugh out loud funny and musically secure. Derek Clark conducted with more than enough aplomb to encourage us to hope that some of the recent difficulties that have beset Scottish Opera’s pit might be regarded as things of distant memory.

Director Martin Lloyd-Evans has a hit on his hands. That’s good news for Scottish Opera. Good news for the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company who come back to life after 10 years of slumbers And it is good news for Mr Gilbert and Mr Sullivan. They are not passé yet.

Opera Review: The Flying Dutchman – Scottish Opera

11. Scottish Opera's The Flying Dutchman. Credit James Glossop. 2013.

Theatre Royal, Glasgow – 4 April 2013

Rating: ★★½☆☆

This review should appear at Opera Britannia in due course.

An underwhelming lead and a mismatched cast make this Scottish Opera production something of a mixed bag. However, one stunning voice and an absolutely electric chorus offer some reasons for seeing this production.

Scottish Opera attempts to bring the Dutchman home at last in this production which is set, not in Norway but on the east coast of Scotland as Wagner had apparently considered when he was writing it. Thus, Darland becomes Donald and Erik the huntsman becomes George the minister. Sadly, someone missed a trick not renaming Senta as Senga, the local diminutive backslang for Agnes and Senta remained Senta throughtout.

During the overture, the stage was filled with a confusing projected cloud scene and rather strangely the house lights came up and went down for no apparent reason. This somehow caught the mood of the orchestra who from beginning to end were playing well below their top form. Fluffed entries, particularly in the horns and higher woodwind and intonation problems in every section were the order of the evening.

It was something of a relief when the curtain rose to reveal an interesting and inventive set. On his travels this time, the Dutchman was apparently drawing into an east coast fishing town about forty years ago. We saw one side of the pier wall of a harbour with the boats appearing beyond in the distance. Donald’s boat appeared and soon the male chorus of sailors was appearing on stage. climbing up onto the harbour. Leaving aside the question of how so many of them came from what appeared to be a relatively small boat, it was one of the most convincing vessels I’ve ever seen on stage, the pilot house bobbing about on the far side of the wall as though the whole thing was afloat.

The idea of setting all the action in the Scottish port rather than either out at sea or in Norway was a brave choice but one which the director  Harry Fehr can feel rightly rather proud of. It worked very well.

The spookiest moment in the production was taken by the first appearance of the ghost ship. Whilst Donald’s boat was all too real, the spectral vessel was projected onto an enormous backstage screen in silhouette completely dominating the stage. This was Video Designer Ian William Galloway’s finest hour and we can forgive him one or two extra swirling clouds for this brooding and quite frightening presence.

But what about the singing?

First up on the pier were Donald the captain and his helmsman accompanied by an enormous cast of fishermen. Nicky Spence  as the randy helmsman had perhaps the most interesting voice of the men on stage. His cocky tone was matched by much swaggering about. Whereas Spence had colour in his voice, Scott Wilde as Donald the Captain had volume on offer. Perhaps he had come to the piece aware that he would be fighting Francesco Corti’s direction of the orchestra which was too loud as usual. Wilde adopted the manner of a foghorn in order to make himself heard through the murk and the mist of the sounds from the pit. Though we could hear him, not a great deal of emotion was conveyed by a voice which was harsh and lacked any real sympathy with the text.

And then on came the Dutchman.

Peteris Eglitis has been promoted by Scottish Opera as a great catch for this role. Singing the Flying Dutchman for the first time, Eglitis has considerable Wagnerian experience to draw on. That made it all the more surprising that his performance was decidedly underwhelming and lacking in lustre. One suspects that he might have had an interesting interpretation had he been able to overcome the presence of the orchestra. However that was not to be and rather than a sense of excitement in his singing there was a rather dull tone which left one feeling slightly disappointing.

The best singing of Act I came undeniably from the huge cast of sailors. They brought a high testosterone energy to the piece which kept the spirits up admirably. They were equally matched by a similarly large crowd of women awaiting them on shore in Act II. The women had the advantage of an astonishing female lead to rally around in the form of Rachel Nicholls’s Senta who was by a long distance the best voice on the stage.

Miss Nicholls had drama, passion and a kind of manic determination to find her true love that made one sure that this flying Scotswoman was going to be the equal of anything the sea blew in and more. Her singing of the ballad of the Flying Dutchman (Traft ihr das Schiff im Meere an) was riveting. Indeed it was worth seeing the whole show for. There was a crazed intensity about her voice which was perfect for the piece.

Solid support came from Sarah Pring’s Mary and Jeff Gwaitney’s George. However, there was no real doubt that once we had heard Miss Nicholls, everyone else was going to pale into insignificance. Quite why George was a minister wearing a dog-collar as well as a hunter carrying a gun was never entirely obvious. He needed the gun at the end of the piece to finish things off, but what he was doing wandering about making the sign of the cross was something of a mystery.

Act III took us back to the pier and some more electric choral singing. The vocal battle between Donald’s sailors and those of the ghost-ship was unconventional (the spectres voices being amplified through speakers behind us in the auditorium) but hugely exciting. It was as though the audience suddenly became the waves separating the two competing choruses. This was the high point of the dramatic action of the evening. However this was somewhat undone by the rather effete revels of the sailors which lacked any sense of confidence.

The director had employed Movement Director Kally Lloyd-Jones  to reflect on what should be done with a crowd of drunken sailors and her answer was that they should do the conga. One suspects that a real bunch  of Peterhead fishermen would have headed for a white pudding supper and a pint of heavy. These men appeared to be satisfied with neat diagonally-cut sandwiches and some party hats. They then proceeded to do the conga across the stage. Unless this was the hitherto little known party habits of the Morningside Fishing Fleet, this was a moment of silly banality in a show that had seemed to want to convey something much more butch and brutal.

Ultimately, all came to an unconventional end. Senta didn’t throw herself off a cliff but took a knife to herself to prove herself true to her Dutchman in death. Jealous George the minister then appeared to finish off the Dutchman with the gun that he had been inexplicably carrying for the whole of the evening. There was the guts of a good idea here but George’s incoherent character did rather get in the way of something solid and satisfying.

Though this production had much to commend it in the singing of the chorus and in Miss Nicholls astonishing performance there were also too many things that got in the way of a perfect night out. The cast was mismatched from the word go and once those singers had been chosen, one suspects that there was little that could be done to sort things out. The orchestra should have been playing better though one wonders whether it was simply a case of being under-rehearsed rather than incompetent. Perhaps things will improve during the run. If so, it is a management problem and not fundamentally a musical one.

All in all, a mixed bag. Next time the Flying Dutchman puts into port, one hopes for a tighter production than this one.

Two and a half stars.

Picture Credit: James Glossop