Go for the Keeper
CD: Sir Charles Mackerras/Orchestra and Chorus of the Welsh National Opera: Gilbert & Sullivan: The Mikado
The American Film Institute's recently updated list of the top 100 American films was a further reminder, as if we all needed one, that popularity is fleeting, genuine artistry survives -- and all bets are off when it comes to list-making and handing out awards (Exhibit A being the also-rans at various Academy Awards ceremonies). If you're any kind of a movie buff, you might want to check out the list at AFI's website and decide which selections you swear by and which you swear about.
Me, I can't resist a keeper, particularly when I'm confronted with the more dispiriting aspects of contemporary life. Give me a classic screwball comedy or a taut Hitchcock thriller. Bring on the film scores by Korngold and Steiner and Barry, the screenplays by the Epstein twins or Billy Wilder. Give me immaculately turned out actors with perfect diction, and save the flip-flops and gross-out humor and overuse of the word "like" for this weekend's roster at the cineplex. I guess that's the conservative side of my personality. So sue me, unless you are Roy Pearson.
All of which brings me once again to the subject of W.S. Gilbert, Arthur Sullivan, and the comic works they brought to the Victorian stage and, in one form or another, the rest of the English-speaking world. It's true that G&S are standard fare for the classical singers, with everyone from Bryn Terfel to the King's Singers taking a turn with patter songs and the like, but don't think that pop culture somehow missed out. After all, Mark Russell, Tom Lehrer, and even the old Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour borrowed liberally from G&S, and don't get me started on the Monty Python crowd.
I grew up with the old D'Oyly Carte recordings and was taken to my first G&S production (in Ridgewood, New Jersey, of all places) at age 11 or 12 -- about the same time I saw La Traviata and Madama Butterfly, but that's a topic for another blog and, for all I know, a therapy session.
In short, G&S appeal to my warped sense of humor and musical tastes, and it's still a pleasure to find a performer who gets it.
Over a period of years Telarc issued a series of G&S standards, and generally got them right. There's a fine Pirates of Penzance, a good HMS Pinafore, and a set containing both The Yeomen of the Guard and Trial by Jury, which I sprang for following a Washington Savoyards production of Yeomen -- with former Olsson's staffer Anna Hurwitz in the role of Phoebe.
But a definite must-have for the collector is Telarc's edition of The Mikado. The work itself contains some of the most memorable music Sullivan ever wrote, including some amazing ensemble pieces and show-stoppers both sweet and sour: lovely, lyrical passages for tenor and soprano, the expected patter songs for baritone, even some comic solos for bass.
But if Sullivan wrote charming music for the ingenue, Yum-Yum, and her beau, Nanki-Poo, Gilbert came up with some hilarious lyrics for this silly and rather convoluted love story and put quite a few of those words into the mouth of the lord high executioner, Ko-Ko, a comic scene-stealer if there ever was one. I don't think any listener can fail to empathize with Ko-Ko -- or to nominate additional candidates -- during his list song, in which he catalogues the annoying people he wouldn't mind executing ("people who have flabby hands and irritating laughs"). Prudently, Telarc has omitted some of Gilbert's more extreme lyrics in that regard, leaving just enough dark humor for 21st century audiences.
There is no dialogue on the recording, but lyrics are provided in the CD liner notes. However, the sung performances are so immensely satisfying that you won't miss the spoken portions. The singers possess the vocal agility for Sullivan's music and the crisp diction to carry off Gilbert's lyrics.
A sense of fun doesn't go amiss either, and there the standout is baritone Richard Suart in the role of Ko-Ko. The lovers Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum (Anthony Rolfe Johnson and Marie McLaughlin) play it straight, but their older counterparts Ko-Ko and Katisha (Suart and Felicity Palmer) provide the necessary tang. Both Suart and Donald Adams (the Mikado) were veterans of the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company, and it certainly shows in their respective solos.
A winner all around, and it certainly makes my list.
The American Film Institute's recently updated list of the top 100 American films was a further reminder, as if we all needed one, that popularity is fleeting, genuine artistry survives -- and all bets are off when it comes to list-making and handing out awards (Exhibit A being the also-rans at various Academy Awards ceremonies). If you're any kind of a movie buff, you might want to check out the list at AFI's website and decide which selections you swear by and which you swear about.
Me, I can't resist a keeper, particularly when I'm confronted with the more dispiriting aspects of contemporary life. Give me a classic screwball comedy or a taut Hitchcock thriller. Bring on the film scores by Korngold and Steiner and Barry, the screenplays by the Epstein twins or Billy Wilder. Give me immaculately turned out actors with perfect diction, and save the flip-flops and gross-out humor and overuse of the word "like" for this weekend's roster at the cineplex. I guess that's the conservative side of my personality. So sue me, unless you are Roy Pearson.
All of which brings me once again to the subject of W.S. Gilbert, Arthur Sullivan, and the comic works they brought to the Victorian stage and, in one form or another, the rest of the English-speaking world. It's true that G&S are standard fare for the classical singers, with everyone from Bryn Terfel to the King's Singers taking a turn with patter songs and the like, but don't think that pop culture somehow missed out. After all, Mark Russell, Tom Lehrer, and even the old Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour borrowed liberally from G&S, and don't get me started on the Monty Python crowd.
I grew up with the old D'Oyly Carte recordings and was taken to my first G&S production (in Ridgewood, New Jersey, of all places) at age 11 or 12 -- about the same time I saw La Traviata and Madama Butterfly, but that's a topic for another blog and, for all I know, a therapy session.
In short, G&S appeal to my warped sense of humor and musical tastes, and it's still a pleasure to find a performer who gets it.
Over a period of years Telarc issued a series of G&S standards, and generally got them right. There's a fine Pirates of Penzance, a good HMS Pinafore, and a set containing both The Yeomen of the Guard and Trial by Jury, which I sprang for following a Washington Savoyards production of Yeomen -- with former Olsson's staffer Anna Hurwitz in the role of Phoebe.
But a definite must-have for the collector is Telarc's edition of The Mikado. The work itself contains some of the most memorable music Sullivan ever wrote, including some amazing ensemble pieces and show-stoppers both sweet and sour: lovely, lyrical passages for tenor and soprano, the expected patter songs for baritone, even some comic solos for bass.But if Sullivan wrote charming music for the ingenue, Yum-Yum, and her beau, Nanki-Poo, Gilbert came up with some hilarious lyrics for this silly and rather convoluted love story and put quite a few of those words into the mouth of the lord high executioner, Ko-Ko, a comic scene-stealer if there ever was one. I don't think any listener can fail to empathize with Ko-Ko -- or to nominate additional candidates -- during his list song, in which he catalogues the annoying people he wouldn't mind executing ("people who have flabby hands and irritating laughs"). Prudently, Telarc has omitted some of Gilbert's more extreme lyrics in that regard, leaving just enough dark humor for 21st century audiences.
There is no dialogue on the recording, but lyrics are provided in the CD liner notes. However, the sung performances are so immensely satisfying that you won't miss the spoken portions. The singers possess the vocal agility for Sullivan's music and the crisp diction to carry off Gilbert's lyrics.
A sense of fun doesn't go amiss either, and there the standout is baritone Richard Suart in the role of Ko-Ko. The lovers Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum (Anthony Rolfe Johnson and Marie McLaughlin) play it straight, but their older counterparts Ko-Ko and Katisha (Suart and Felicity Palmer) provide the necessary tang. Both Suart and Donald Adams (the Mikado) were veterans of the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company, and it certainly shows in their respective solos.
A winner all around, and it certainly makes my list.
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