|
|
 |
Original
Director
Jonathan Miller
Revival Director
David
Ritch
Cast:
Mikado
Richard
Angas
Nanki-poo
Keith
Jameson
Ko-Ko
Richard
Suart
Pooh-Bah
Ian
Caddy
Yum-Yum
Sarah
Tynan
Katisha
Felicity
Palmer |
|
| |
|
|
|
Coliseum
3
Feb - 3 March 2006
|
|
The
topsy-turvy world of W. S
Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan
is brought gloriously alive
in the English National Opera's
revival of The
Mikado,
directed by David Ritch. Jonathan
Miller's production of the
'comic opera' (as the creators
would have it described) celebrates
its 20th anniversary with
vigour, passion and - in the
case of one or two re-written
verses in Act I - topical
hilarity.
The was the longest running
collaboration between the
librettist and composer, and
such has been its influence
since 1885 that it is our
most frequently translated
English operatic work. Songs
of seemless satire set to
the memorable tunes of a lyrical
score proved a picquant combination
for the public: plus ca change!
What have changed with the
times are the set and costumes.
Once inspired by a 'Japanese
Village' which took up residence
in Knightsbridge the year
of the opera's debut, the
imaginary seaside resort of
Titipu was conceived as a
delightful oriental pastiche
for a Victorian audience.
Its inhabitants, however,
portrayed very contemporary
British mores in all their
pretention and abusurdity.
The latter are still apposite,
but the setting and clothes
are reinterpreted for this
production in monochrome by
Stefanos Lazaridis and Sue
Blane respectively. The creamy,
Jazz Age environs of a grand
hotel are rebuilt with an
uneven, surreal perspective
reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland.
White-washed props (an aspadistra,
gramophone and harp) suggest
the hand of decorator Syrie
Maughan. On to this bleached
stage an impressive cast of
gymslipped maids, lissome
flapper girls, camp bell-hops
and morning-suited swells
process through the first
act - their dialogue enunciated
with clipped Ealing Studio
precision.
Our unlikely hero, incognito
crown- prince Nanki-Poo is
played by Keith Jameson in
ice-cream salesman's stripes
topped off with a Pee-Wee
Herman cow-lick. Effeminate,
even irritating, he might
be, but bewailing his quest
for the lovely school-girl
Yum-Yum in the guise of a
'wandering minstrel', his
voice is affecting. Indeed,
Jameson makes his ENO debut
having sung the same role
with the New York City Opera.
His rival Ko-Ko (Richard Suart)
a comic figure blusters beautifully
as the newly appointed Lord
High Executioner, fiance to
his ward Yum-Yum. Suart's
rousing rendering of 'I've
got a little list (of society
offenders)' brings the house
down with a re-working - Mark
Oaten (rhymed with verboten)
George Galloway, and the company's
ex-chairman are all name-checked
and lampooned to rapturous
applause!
The apparatchik Pooh-Bah,
or Lord High Everything Else,
is caricatured by Ian Caddy
as a dapper, venal cad. When
we meet the 'three little
maids' (Yum-Yum and her chums),
they cradle lacrosse sticks
and nibble on lolly-pops,
Lolita-style, then noisily
greet Nanki-Poo like a visiting
rock-star. This prompts Ko-Ko
to show them a yellow card
as if he is breaking up a
soccer scrum! Later, a suicidal
Nanki-Poo is easily persuaded
to be executed (courtesy of
an impatient Mikado's decree)
in exchange for one month
of wedded bliss. His real
fiancee, the matronly termagant
Katisha (a splendid Felicity
Palmer reprising the role
from 1986) arrives and unsucessfully
attempts to expose him before
the wedding.
The second and final act contains
few surprises but some imaginative
tableau and fine singing.
Regretably, there is no change
of set, and we must rely on
the costumes for novel relief.
In a production which is decidedly
orient-lite, it is a relief
to find a rare visual reference
to Japan in the female chorus's
kimono lingerie. Yum-Yum's
paean to the stars provides
an elegiac turn before she
discovers, to her horror,
that the wife of a beheaded
man must be buried alive!
The Mikado, in the lofty,
fat-suited person of Richard
Angas, finally makes his stately
presence known. Furious because
he believes his son has been
executed, the ruler of Titipu
is only placated when Nanki-Poo
reappears, safe in the knowledge
that Ko-Ko has contrived to
marry the venegeful Katisha.
The spirited finale sees the
whole cast in white for a
traditional celebration enlivened
with agile gymnastics.
Enthusiasm, comic timing and
some barn-storming ensemble
perfomances (all-singing,
all-dancing with a touch of
the hoe-down thrown in) ensure
that this revival maintains
its popularity. What it lacks
in eastern promise it makes
up for in old Hollywood glamour.
Caroline
Kellett Fraysse |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
