Utopia Island
(The Westminster Budget [UK weekly] - 20th October, 1893)
A REHEARSAL AT THE SAVOY - HOW THE NEW OPERA WAS PREPARED
We have already noted the successful production of this opera {see below - ed.}. We now give our readers a description of a rehearsal, by which they will see what vast trouble is necessary before a big play is presentable.
I was admitted to the stalls of the theatre. It was all covered with white sheets, and only lighted by the skylight over the gallery, one or two electric lights and a lamp in the prompt side stage box. The 32 gentlemen of the orchestra in straw hats, "bowlers," and "tubes," as French slang calls the silk hat, were in their place, but not their places, and a good half-hour was spent in arranging their seats, a difficult task carried out by Mr. Arthur Cellier. For a long time we - that is, about half a dozen people in the stalls, sat gazing at the gorgeous pale amber silk brocade curtain which in the gloomy half-light looked dull and dingy. Then Sir Arthur Sullivan, in a suit of dark-grey "dittoes," appeared and helped Mr. Cellier in seating the orchestra, and the difficulty of the task caused him to remark that "next time he would write all the music pizzicato, so as to save the room taken up by the violin bows." At last that business was arranged, and the voice of Mr. Charles Harris was heard - it is a voice which is always heard with ease - telling someone to stop the gallery lights. Mr. Harris scarcely seemed himself, and, in fact, those who have heard him rehearsing a company when he is master of the situation, would hardly have recognised him in the subdued-looking person who sat mum in a corner of the stalls most of the time. At last Sir Arthur took his seat, the overture was soon played, and the curtains parted, disclosing a picture of tropical scenery, and some pretty girls in fantastic costumes, with splendid wigs that caused Mr. Clarkson, who sat in the stalls, to beam with pride and pleasure. The opening chorus sung - did ever a comic opera begin otherwise than by a chorus? - the real business of a rehearsal began.
Utopia Island
"I don't think there are enough young ladies for a good volume of sound," said Sir Arthur. "Nor I," answered Mr. Gilbert; "we must send on the others at once." Then he ran round to the stage, some more young ladies arrived, and he began to arrange them, pushing and pulling them about gently, and calling them, as custom demands "My dear." In a few minutes he came back to the stalls, and, sitting down by the side of Mrs. Gilbert, looked at the result of his handiwork. "You, miss, you in yellow, and you, miss, next to her, will you put your arms round one another's necks - if you're on good-terms," called the author, and turning round said, "they aren't always, you know." Still, he was not satisfied. "You two at the back incorporate yourselves - I mean embrace one another. Sullivan, may I put one right at the back on the mound; will the voice be right?" "Certainly, Gilbert." "Now, my dear, go right back and take your skin with you - never go anywhere without your skin."
It was a joke about the tiger-skin she had to lie upon - a mild joke if you like, but mild jokes are as successful at rehearsal as in a Court of Justice. At last they were posed even to the satisfaction of Mr. Percy Anderson, who designed the boldly-coloured dresses. Then Mr. Gilbert: "Hi, miss, you in green on the left - I can't tell which is which now they've got their wigs - lie down at once on your face - I've told you about it before." The young lady began to expostulate or explain, but he stopped her firmly yet amiably. Both he and Sir Arthur act on the suaviter in modo fortiter in re principle. The musician is exceedingly courteous, but has sharp little bursts of impatience promptly subdued; Mr. Gilbert is a genuine Job. A Savoy rehearsal is indeed a study in propriety of demeanour, and too refined for many Parliamentary terms to be used at it. What a difference to other theatres, where nothing is done without a quantity of highly-decorated language! In truth, at the Savoy there is a charming family tone - everyone seems polite and respectful, and there appears to be a genuine feeling of goodfellowship all round.
"You know," said Mr. Gilbert to me, "I've told that girl about it before. Tell a thing once to a man, and he never forgets it. Tell it to a woman, and - well, they're thinking all the time about the question how they and their neighbours look. One rehearsal went almost to pieces till I thought of making them all take off their bonnets, and then they did attend to me. Oh, that won't do!" and off he dashed to the stage, and the scene was done over again and again. The dialogue went well enough, for most of the company proved to be word perfect; very funny it is too, and I long to let some of the jokes out of the theatre, but there's the oath! The orchestra laughed so heartily at times that it could not play. The music, too, was well known - only one chorus, a very pretty accompanied sextette, went wrong; Sir Arthur's keen ear felt the basses were in error, and Mr. Cellier pointed out that they dropped to a C instead of G, which weakened the harmony, and possibly made consecutive fifths or octaves. The dances, exits, and entrances gave the trouble. When it is correctly done it seems quite natural that after a complicated movement all the performers should be exactly in a picture at the end of a musical phrase, but when such an affair goes wrong it seems impossible to get it right. The royal drawing-room gave the greatest trouble. With great pains an exact copy of a St. James's reception is given; all the proper officials are there, and the Life Guards-men average over 6ft. 3in! There are a dozen or so of debutantes in gorgeous Court dresses - fifty guineas apiece they cost. The young ladies look lovely, or most of them do, for a prettier set of girls than the Savoy chorus could hardly be found, and they wear their dresses and manouevre the tremendous trains as if to the manner born. However, to get all the debutantes and their trains off the stage, mass the gorgeously clad officials, then call the young ladies back again and bring the whole splendid group up to the footlights exactly at the last chord of rich procession music, seemed for a while impossible; but by patience and skill it was done. This Drawing Room scene will make every woman in the land bully her husband, father, brother, or sweetheart, as the case may be, to take her to see "Utopia, Limited."
"The floor is being parqueted for the Drawing-Room scene," answered Mr. Gilbert. "We've spared no expenses, I can tell you; in fact, the production has cost no less than -- ." He mentioned a sum that is as much as most of us earn in 15 years.
(The Westminster Budget [UK weekly] - 13th October, 1893)
"UTOPIA, LIMITED, OR THE FLOWERS OF PROGRESS"
The New Opera at the Savoy Theatre
"Utopia, Limited, or the Flowers of Progress," shows, to some extent, the effect of time - "age" would be incorrect and impolite - on its parents. The spontaneity, the irresponsible gaiety, the broad humour of their old works has gone. No longer do they trust to the weight of mere idea, and send it forth to battle simply on its own account. Dimly in their work one sees the moral of Balzac's "Le Chef d'oeuvre Inconnu," for one guesses that they have rejected this and that out of fastidious delicacy and fallen in despair upon a doctrine of nice shades. One pictures Mr. Gilbert saying to himself "So-and-So would have done so-and-so in such-and-such a situation, and therefore I must do something else." Unfortunately the avoidance of the commonplace does not always lead to the creation of the original. The result is a super-subtlety that enshrouds the better part of the work and obscures its beauties to people who merely hear.
Princess Zara / The King
Those critics whom exigencies compelled to write from the books in advance appreciated much that fell flat on Saturday night. Who could expect gallery or stalls to see the humour or even the meaning of the king's remark, "Why the fact is that, in the cartoons of a comic paper the size of your nose varies inversely on the square of your popularity." One has to take breath before feeling confident whether the idea of making a prosperous people discontented by merely swearing an affidavit "that what they supposed to be happiness was really unspeakable misery," is brilliant and ingenious, or far fetched and clumsy; and the phrase that follows, "You know you can't help believing an affidavit," reminds one dismally of the judicial epigram, "Truth will out even in an affidavit."
The worst of it is that Mr. Gilbert, in his search for remote humour, has once or twice forgotten to "join his flats." We have the episode of the two wise men who rule the autocrat and compel him to write shocking iibels upon himself in the Palace Peeper, in consequence of which its circulation has increased tenfold; on the other hand, it appears that "his Majesty's agents always buy up the whole edition," and also that the vice-chamberlain of the Court has never heard of the journal. Can this be reconciled? Nor for ordinary mortals is it clear that by even Gilbertian logic can their conduct in compelling the king to discredit himself be found in any degree politic.
Whilst we are in this examining mood we should like to ask the meaning of these lines in the charming ballad of the English girl:-
At cricket, her kin will lose or win
She and her maids, on grass and clover,
Eleven maids out - eleven maids in
And perhaps an occasional "maiden over."
We think that the first two would puzzle an Oedipus. One might seek also to know whether it was worth printing this scrap of dialogue:-
King: "Absolutely. Our Second Housemaid has only one leg."
Lady S. (suspiciously): "How do you know that?."
King: "Common report. I give you my honour!"
However, it may be waste of time to touch on such small matters when there is so big a business as the failure of the denouement to deal with. When we arrived at the point where the deus-ex-machina in form of person or idea was due, did Mr. Gilbert rise to the occasion or break down like most librettists? There was this situation - Utopia had been converted, under the auspices of Mr. Goldbury, into Utopia, Limited, and had flourished prodigiously, but the people, by means of the affidavit already mentioned, were discontented, and demanded the expulsion of the company promoter and his comrades. The King, in "his despotic acquiescence with the emphatic wish of his people," was about to banish the "flowers of progress" and ruin Zara's schemes for Anglicising the people. What could she do? She came forward and said:- "Now I remember. Why! I had forgotten the most important, the most vital, the most essential element of all - Government by Party." Thereon after a biting speech that we quote, everyone on the stage was contented: but only one off it seemed amused, and his laughter was soon checked. It appeared to be a very lame and impotent conclusion. This is the speech:-
Government by Party! Introduce that great and glorious element - at once the bulwark and foundation of England's greatness - and all will be well! No political measures will endure, because one party will assuredly undo all that the other party has done; inexperienced civilians will govern your army and your navy, no social reforms will be attempted, because out of vice, squalor, and drunkenness no political capital is to be made; and while grouse is to be shot, and foxes worried to death, the legisative action of the country will be at a standstill. Then there will be sickness in plenty, endless lawsuits, crowded jails, interminable confusion in the army and navy, and in short, general and unexampled prosperity!"
Luckily if we find fault in some measure with the new work we can see much in it worthy of the writer whose name will go down to fame as the inventor of the Gilbertian humour. Had they not been published and quoted already we could set out many a stanza of which anyone might be proud, whilst there are some highly ingenious phrases. Lady Sophy's term "sufficiently single" in the following, "as there is not a civilized king who is sufficiently single to realize my ideal of Abstract Respectability," is certainly very ingenious. The joke about "who thinks slightingly of the cocoanut, because it is husky," spoken in relation to singing, is neat enough and effective; what, however, in the song leading to this is the meaning of:-
One ought to be firm as a rock
To venture a shake in vibrato.
Moreover, all the bitter sarcastic jokes concerning the state of England and our company law have point as well as painful truth. Yet we must except one phrase:-
No scheme's too great and none too small
For companification.
It is unfortunately the fact that small schemes have to be left alone and languish for lack of capital. There is not plunder enough in them. We should like to dwell on the humours of the two little princesses Nekaya and Kalyba, the two dainty darlings brought up by the prudish Lady Sophy on a strict English system of propriety that greatly resembles the French "tenez-vous droite et vaissez les yeux." They are exceedingly funny, and Lady Sophy's song, when she lectures to them on the way of dealing with the advances of young men, both in music and verse is among the best things in Gilbert and Sullivan's series. What could be neater than the following stanza?:-
Pray observe this lesson vital
When a man of rank and title.
His position first discloses,
Always cock your little noses.
When at home, let all the class
Try this in the looking-glass.
English girls of well-bred notions,
Shun all unrehearsed emotions,
English girls of highest class
Practise them before the glass.
Miss Emmie Owen and Miss Florence Perry played these parts charmingly and sang their pretty music very pleasantly. It is also just to remark that the comic scenes between Scapio and Phantis were always good in dialogue though somewhat illogical in substance. The characters were excellently acted in all respects by Messrs. Denny and Le Play. We could have wished that Mr. Gilbert had not forgotten in the second act that, in the first he had put us on the track of some comical adventures of this curious couple.
It is time to turn our attention to Sir Arthur Sullivan. As we have already hinted, his work has not the simplicity, freshness, and spontaneity of olden times. When he introduced with great success a few bars from "Pinafore" it almost seemed to be the work of some other composer, and, from the popular point of view, of a more attractive one. To those, however, who have any appreciation of technique, his work all through is of higher merit than in the days when he was making himself famous. The fun is quieter, but none the less genuine, the dance tunes hardly make one's feet throb as they used to, yet they are subtler in rhythm. However, when he touches the non-humorous music there seems a little indecision and want of sincerity. Just as the inhabitants of Mr. Gilbert's topsy-turveydom seem to have grown sophisticated, and utter their absurdities as if almost aware of their true nature, so Sir Arthur's muse when she leaves the domain of humour seems to tread uneasily. Nevertheless, there is an unaccompanied chorus of fine facture and rich quality which delighted everybody. The whole of his work in quality of musicianship is well worthy of his fame; and yet, except the hardly brilliant nigger minstrel song, little of it appears likely to delight the public.
Was it distrust of the strength of the work that caused such gorgeous mounting? Whatever the answer to the question, money has been spent lavishly. The first scene, a tropical picture with ladies in fantastic, barbaric dresses, delighted many people, but there will be some who would rather see it through smoked glasses than with the naked eye, for one section at least of the artistic public will call it a hideous debauch of crude colour. The second act occurs in a palace scene of pseudo-Moorish architecture all flaunting with gold and countless electric lights, and in the background lies sea and sky that might make a Reckitt envious. Here occurs the great Drawing Room scene, which indeed may well be compared with the "flowers that bloom in the spring." However, it makes a fine spectacle, for the dresses designed by Messrs. Russell and Allen are really beautiful, despite the meaningless Court trains, which look idiotic to a mere man. The young ladies who wear them are quite a bevy of beauties, and we have it on authority that in all details the affair is an exact reproduction of the common occurrence at Buckingham Palace.
Of the performers the cynosure was Miss Nancy Mcintosh, Mr. Gilbert's latest discovery. The young lady is a beauty of the Dresden china order, and seems to have a voice to match. Nervousness affected it, but one could hear that it is pure and sweet, but not strong enough to stand out long against the cruelly high tessitura of Sir Arthur's music. Her acting was astonishing in its grace and point for a debutante. Miss Brandram is as unlikely to fail as the Bank of England, and her performance was just what one expected: neat in acting, dainty in dancing, and admirable in singing. Mr. Scott Fishe bids fair to be one of the most valuable members of the company, both as singer and actor.