If you want to see sunlight on stage there’s no place like the Wortham’s Cullen Theater where The Gilbert & Sullivan Society of Houston has produced a bright and shiny The Gondoliers (1889), the pair’s last hit. You’ll need sunglasses.
Not nearly the smash sensation like their previous “comic operas,” H.M.S. Pinafore, The Pirates of Penzance, or The Mikado, The Gondoliers, years later and the twelfth of fourteen in their phenomenal partnership, possesses a real bounce, an elation of sorts. It’s different in tone, in its music, in its unbridled lyrical wit. (No one, not even Sondheim, can rhyme like W.S. Gilbert. His satire and irony are unparalleled in musical theater.)
And Sullivan’s music takes on a beautiful sheen. Yes, it’s British all the way – the pomp, marches, splendid use of the chorus – but it has the sound of Italy behind it. Charm is there in spades, it’s laughing music. It delights in the tempi of fandango and tarantella, or the soft lilt from Mediterranean breezes in those romantic lovers’ ballads pointed with pizzicato strings. The entire show is of one piece, which is difficult to believe since the two masters were soon on the verge of a professional divorce.
Gilbert, the perfectionist, directed the D’Oyly Carte productions in the theater built by impresario Carte to house only their shows. Brilliant idea, but unsustainable, because if a show wasn’t ready, the house stood empty, hemorrhaging money. Gilbert was unstinting as he oversaw all phases, from sets, costumes, lighting, acting, blocking, everything not front of house. He did not suffer fools gladly.
Sullivan, by this time “Sir” Arthur, was feeling a bit left out. His desire was to write grand music, serious stuff, like his hymn, “Onward Christian Soldiers,” or his Symphony in E, or, his greatest desire, a grand opera (which he would compose while simultaneously writing Gondoliers – Ivanhoe.)
Sullivan always felt that his work with Gilbert was slightly beneath him, those “topsy turvy” plots Gilbert concocted too silly and inconsequential. After lawsuits and angry letters, they did reconcile and write two more musicals, Utopia, Limited and The Grand Duke, but both were not up to par of the duo’s grand days of yore.
In the ultimate ironic twist, neither did their best work without the other. Sullivan will always be praised and remembered for his musicals with Gilbert. Not his concert work. And Gilbert never achieved the recognition he so wanted from being a playwright. He needed Sullivan’s music to reach the heights.
So The Gondoliers came at a breaking point, but it’s a culmination of the best of them. It’s a lively show, glorifying the chorus as much as it does the leads, and director/choreographer Alyssa Weathersby does a superb job in keeping everything light and airy, always on its toes. The dancing throughout is excellent, fits the mood, and lifts your spirits. The ensemble is a major player: the contadines (the women of the village) and their beaus. They’re never out of the action for long, racing in to dance one of Sullivan’s sprightly tunes while gleefully singing Gilbert’s posh lyrics.
Gilbert threw a tantrum at some of his D’Oyly Carte divas and divos, who had a tendency to “mug it up,” as he said, so he wrote Gondoliers with many leading parts, diffusing the star turns he so hated. The ploy works surprisingly well. There are at least nine components, and all get their spotlight. Two sets of lovers (Marco and Gianetta, Giuseppe and Tessa – that’s four), the impoverished Duke and Duchess of Plaza-Toro with their daughter Casilda (that’s three), the Duke’s drummer Luiz (one), and Don Alhambra del Bolero, the Grand Inquisitor (one more). It’s a constellation.
The plot is Ur-Gilbert, a mishmash of mistaken identities, political piety, marital hypocrisy, the skewering of class distinction, all themes Gilbert mined throughout his career that tweaked the late-Victorian nose. After much merriment, gondolier brothers Marco and Giuseppe marry their sweethearts, when they are suddenly informed that one of them is heir to the throne of Barataria. No one knows which one, so they will rule the faraway kingdom jointly.
Casilda, in love with the drummer Luiz, also is told that she, when a baby, was married to the infant king. So one of the brothers is now a bigamist, and Casilda must choose. Say goodbye, Luiz. The boys sail off to their new kingdom to rule in “republican fashion,” with absolute equality where everyone is equal, but then, what else, nobody does any work. The subjects gamble and drink the day away, while the two kings are left to clean up the place and do all the menial tasks. The mystery of the kingship is resolved in a neat little twist, and everybody ends up happily ever after, even if the gondoliers and their wives are a bit bereft at not being royalty. This is so Gilbertian.
The cast is very good all down the line. The chorus is splendid. As the brothers, tenor Grant Peck and strong baritone Sean Holshouser blend nicely together; and their spouses, soprano Laura Coleman and mezzo Riley Vagis, are equally enticing. Coleman’s top notes are a wonder to hear, as is Vagis’ deep chestnut tone. G&S veteran baritone Dennis Arrowsmith plays to the balcony as the fey Duke henpecked by his wife, mezzo Sarah L. Lee, another G&S veteran. Both these troopers know their way around the stage and how much scenery they can chew before Gilbert’s ghost comes down.
Soprano Kaitlyn Stavinoha, as Casilda, is dewy in voice and pairs well with Nathan Holmes’ resonant baritone as Luiz. No voice is deeper than bass Richard Paul Fink’s. No amplification needed. His “There Lived a King” is a rich study in the corruption of equality. It ends with this sampler, “In short, whoever you may be, this conclusion you’ll agree, When every one is somebodee, Then no one’s anybody!”
But this musical is too much fun for dark thoughts. This fairy tale is given a fairy tale look by Jodi Bobrovsky with a cutout playground set with slide and fireman’s pole. We’re here to play, it sings, as do the wacky, outré costumes by Shaun Heath, Mary Webber, and Karen Christensen – a garish and happy sight to behold. At some points, Colleen Doherty’s lighting had a life of its own, but I’m sure that was opening night jitters. Maestro Clifton Evans kept a bouncy tempo going all night, smooth and glistening like a ride on a gondola on the Grand Canal. You can hear the serenade of the barcarole and the snap of the “cachucha” in this splendid production of The Gondoliers. Take a ride.
The Gondoliers continues at 2:30 pm Sunday, July 19; 7 p.m. Saturday July 25; 2:30 p.m. Sunday July 26. Cullen Theater at the Wortham Center, 501 Texas. For more information, call 713-227-4772 or visit gilbertandsullivan.org. $17-$134.
