Landed Gentry, Humble Berths

Glimmerglass Festival 2024 Dept.: Here’s my review of the second of the four productions I’m seeing at the Glimmerglass Festival this summer.

                                                                               

BEFORE SONDHEIM, THERE WAS GILBERT – W.S. Gilbert, that is, he finest English-language lyricist of his era, and a dab hand at concocting the books to go with them. He was, of course, a product of his time, and the libretto he devised for the 1879 “Pirates of Penzance” overflows with the misdirections and other zany plot devices that Gilbert & Sullivan audiences adored.

Elizabeth Sutphen and Christian Mark Gibbs
as Mabel and Frederic.
Photo by Brent DeLanoy

And still adore. Familiar as the operettas may have become, Sullivan’s scores have a freshness that rewards repeated listening. So it’s a treat to see that the Glimmerglass Festival is offering its first G&S production in 20 years, and doing so with appropriate talent and energy. (If you’re interested, here’s my review of that 1994 “Patience.”)

“Things are seldom what they seem,” sings a character in a different G&S, but that observation rings true here, too. The crew of pirates we meet at the top of the show is a bunch of softies. The policemen we meet in the second act aren’t at all courageous, while the virginal maidens who egg them on turn out to be rather bloodthirsty.

Keeping in mind the Victorian-era sensibilities this story played against, there was plenty of room for social satire, in which Gilbert always gloried. Director-choreographer Seán Curran, reviving his 2013 Opera Theatre of St. Louis production, offers a dazzling festival of movement that pauses long enough to let the plot elements go by, but rarely otherwise slackening the pace.

But there is a meditative Act Two duet – “Stay, Fred'ric, stay,” “Ah, leave me not to pine” – between the sweethearts Mabel and Frederic that is the emotional heart of the piece, rendered by Elizabeth Sutphen and Christian Mark Gibbs with tug-at-your-heartstrings intensity.

Conductor Joseph Colaneri has one of the best-ever opera orchestras under his baton, and they serve the music as well as it could be served. Beginning with the overture, which, I’m thrilled to report, was not staged. As any student of musical theater knows, a good libretto wastes no information, so there’s nothing that need be shared before the curtain goes up. It becomes a chance to enjoy the sound of the music.

Troy Cook as Major-General Stanley.
Photo by Brent DeLanoy

Back to Sutphen. As Mabel, she sang this coloratura role with engaging effortlessness. Her character is brazen for 1879; she made it believable. She produced some unusual vowel sounds, however, which I’m guessing was an attempt to make the character sound Cornish. It was inconsistent enough merely to prove distracting.

Better were the distinctions Eve Gigliotti brought to her portrayal of Ruth, the classic G&S mezzo. Alongside an impressive singing voice was her ability to sound lower-class when among the pirates, and more refined when wooing Frederic. Gibbs turned Frederic into less of a stuffed shirt than I’ve seen in past productions, and the comedy was improved by that.

The most memorable character in the piece is the person Anna Russell termed “the little man that prances around and sings the patter song.” Here it was Troy Cook as Major-General Stanley, who navigated that song with incredible vocal dexterity. Did he succumb to the temptation to milk the bits within that song? He did. Too bad. It’s funnier without the extra effort, but that’s a perennial problem with G&S performers.

We have, I’d say, 90 percent of a great “Pirates” here. To earn the remaining ten isn’t a matter of doing more – it’s doing less. I suppose it’s the desire to gain as many laughs as possible that drives directors to indulge their worst instincts, which is why it’s crucial to consider that there are two kinds of laugh you can pursue: Cheap ones, and earned ones.

To begin with, you’re working with that most formidable of theatrical entities, an opera chorus. Nobody steals focus as energetically as they can. You’ve got to be able to rein them in. As we met the pirate crew, I was pleased to see that each of the ensemble must have been given a character (and probably a character name as well; that’s just good directing), but I was dismayed to note that shortly after they came on stage things started getting out of hand.

Eve Gigliotti as Ruth, with pirates.
Photo by Brent DeLanoy

This is a mildly complicated story with amusing songs and dialogue built right in. Gilbert and Sullivan knew what they were doing. But in order to fully realize it today, you have to understand the time in which it was set, its language and conventions and mores. The pirates are endearing. They’re lost souls, endearing, not hobbledehoy buffoons. Don’t turn them loose on gratuitous, focus-stealing business.

Likewise, the police force that arrives in Act Two. They were so burdened with an unnecessary manner of movement that it threatened to distract from all else – and what a tiring convention to have to maintain throughout entire scenes! A more subtle, concerted style of movement, consistent with the social station of these gentleman, would earn satisfying laughs alongside a pair of numbers that are funny in themselves. Sadly, there will always be those in the house who respond to the cheap laughs.

Among my many writing jobs was a stint with some unsavory magazines, the ones typically passed under the counter. Which is only to note that I am no prude. But when I’m watching “Pirates,” I’m in Victoria’s era. There’s no sexual innuendo written into in the piece, and the operetta will be funnier without it. It takes us out of the moment.

This is certainly an enjoyable production, successful on many levels. Great voices in a perfect-sized theater; a first-rate orchestra with a first-rate conductor. If I didn’t like it so much, I wouldn’t be wishing for it to be better still. Performances continue through August 19.

The Pirates of Penzance
Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan
Libretto by W.S. Gilbert
Joseph Colaneri, conductor
Seán Curran, director and choreographer
The Glimmerglass Festival, July 27