<\/p>\n
It\u2019s true. You really don\u2019t need a cast of 50 sisters, cousins and aunts or whatever to make G&S work. In fact, in recent years, I\u2019ve concluded that a bijoux cast is often better because, with strong performers, you can make every note, line and word crystal clear in a way that larger groups cannot usually do.<\/p>\n
And so to Ruddigore, which came in 1887 imediately after The Mikado and before The Yeomen of the Guard, For decades I\u2019ve struggled to understand why Gilbert and Sullivan\u2019s magnificent gothic send-up isn\u2019t better known. The score, which I\u2019ve known and loved since my teens includes some of Sullivan\u2019s loveliest gems.<\/p>\n
Well perhaps this production will help to rectify that. It sits very happily in the gothic shabby chic of Wilton\u2019s Music Hall where director Peter Benedict, who also appears as Sir Despard, has retrieved some of Gilbert\u2019s cut dialogue and reordered some of the songs in order to make this complicated plot about ancestors, three men with the same surname, ghosts and the rest as clear as possible.<\/p>\n
The talented cast is a mixture of opera-trained singers and those who\u2019ve come via the musical theatre route and the difference is clear. Benedict himself, for example, is a terrific actor \u2013 all Hitchcock-ian menace and eyes \u2013 and very good indeed at diction but his singing style is more Noel Coward than Bryn Terfel.<\/p>\n
Madeline Robinson, on the other hand, is every inch an opera singer with a stylish voice and fine acting skills. I\u2019m always pleased when an audience, who don\u2019t know it\u2019s coming, laugh spontaneously at a Gilbert joke \u2013 such as \u201cIt says you must not hint \u2013 in print\u201d and Robinson brings off that and lots of other lines with perfect timing. She also communicates every nuance of her feelings often with just a tilt of her head.<\/p>\n
Rosemary Ashe, wheeled on whenever the three-person female chorus is on stage to bash out the alto line, is a strong character actor as Dame Hannah. And her expositionary number \u201cSir Rupert Murgatroyd\u201d, brought forward in this production, is entertaining and certainly makes the plot as clear as it\u2019s ever likely to be.<\/p>\n
Graham Stone turns in a nice performance (modelled on Jim Carter\u2019s Mr Carson in Downton Abbey?) as Old Adam \u2013 lots of on-stage gravitas and lovely bass singing especially in the madrigal \u201cWhen the buds are blossoming\u201d which brings the whole cast on stage \u2013 conducted by Steve Watt, dressed as the officiating clergyman.<\/p>\n
The small band, below stage left, is directed by Tom Noyes on keys. The music is an interesting blend of recorded and live with some pleasing trumpet and reed work. Watt plays trumpet in the first half and then goes a good Sir Roderic in the second act. Yes, there\u2019s a lot of ingenious versatility in this production.<\/p>\n
Best of all, though, is violinist Luca Kocsmarszky, who sits above the band on stage at the side of the action. Dressed in draped Victorian floral velvet, she plays almost continuously in this re-orchestration, gazes at the action quizzically over her glasses and gestures at the cast with oodles of personality. When Charli Baptie (excellent) as Mad Margaret sings \u201cTo a garden full of roses\u201d Kocsmarszky is leaning in and visibly duetting with her and it\u2019s really rather beautiful.<\/p>\n
Sullivan\u2019s marvellous ghost music (Gilbert, apparently disliked it, deeming it too serious and comparing it with 50 lines of Paradise Lost inserted into a farce) sets the scene as splendidly as ever \u2013 with all those descending scales and minor key shivers before Roderic\u2019s big number. The ghosts\u2019 emergence from the pictures, traditionally presents a technical problem but this is the digital age so Tom Fitch gives us a projection of each ancestor singing in his or her frame, high on the back wall \u2013 which is fun.<\/p>\n
Ashe and Watts are especially delightful in their love duet \u201cThere grew a little flower\u201d. It\u2019s an unusual song because his bass line is higher than her alto one and the effect \u2013 if it\u2019s done well, as it is here \u2013 is magical.<\/p>\n
The dialogue is a good blend of insertions and Gilbert\u2019s cod-medieval stuff, including some which is often cut. I don\u2019t, for example, remember ever having heard Rose\u2019s line about the accusative case before. My favourite joke of the evening was Sir Ruthven (Joe Winter \u2013 good) desperate to commit a crime, ordering every on his estate to stay in because of a smallpox outbreak and then throwing a party for all his friends. His glee is delicious.<\/p>\n
All in all a fine show, then, with just two minor caveats. First it\u2019s a good idea to suggest at the beginning that we\u2019re in the 21st century when the castle is now a weird Victorian hotel with hints of a horror film \u2013 but it\u2019s not followed through and therefore becomes pointless. Moreover I\u2019d prefer to listen to the overture (Geoffrey Toye\u2019s 1920 version) than watch distracting supplementary on- stage mimed action.<\/p>\n
Second, the reworked finale with the inclusion of a number \u201cWhen a man has been a naught baronet\u201d, which is often omitted, feels a bit jerky and abrupt. It means a clumsy shift from duple time to triple to get into the last \u201cHappy the lily\u201d and sounds awkward. It was cut in the 1920 revival but later reinstated for D\u2019Oyly Carte productions. I think the finale works better without it.<\/p>\n
Susan Elkin<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It\u2019s true. You really don\u2019t need a cast of 50 sisters, cousins and aunts or whatever to make G&S work. In fact, in recent years, I\u2019ve concluded that a bijoux cast is often better because, with strong performers, you can … Continue reading