Jonathan's Buxton Diary

To thy new lover, turn thee!

2006-06-27T06:48:00.000+01:00

I'm leaving blogger. I have a brand new Buxton diary on my own webspace -- come read me over there! Here is the link. I've imported all of my archives, so once your links are updated, it'll be as good good as ever. As good, yet infinitely more so!

Of Arcadee!

2006-06-23T22:23:00.000+01:00

I haven't been writing in here much, but Buxton Season is now only a few weeks away. So I'll be doing daily updates and lots of reviews once again, before too long. In the meantime, just a couple of pieces of G&S news in my life:

(1) I had my first paying gig last week. A couple in Cambridge, MA was celebrating a wedding anniversary, and wanted a G&S concert performance. A group of us came together and sang a couple of sets. It was good fun, and they gave me money for it! Singing for cash is a good thing -- there should be more opportunities like that.

(2) I've been cast as Strephon in the Young Artistes Iolanthe at the Festival, August 13. That's two romantic leads in one festival for this baritone!

(3) This blog URL may change soon. Watch this space.

To an island fair

2006-05-18T22:48:00.000+01:00

I just bought my tickets to Mancester. It's feeling more and more real -- I can't wait! I've gotten my official invitation to the Young Ambassadors, and I've accepted, and I'm hard at work studying Robin Oakapple (with blocking in hand), and it's just two and a half months away now!

Buxton!

Poor little man

2006-05-06T06:09:00.000+01:00

I've been meaning to update here for a while, but I haven't had the time. A few things I've been meaning to mention:

My Pirates at Brown was a cool experience.
I saw Yeomen at Harvard, and thought it was excellent. The tenor was the second-best Fairfax I'd ever seen, second only to the professional and sublime Nick Sales. I thought the staging was really superb, too.
I saw Patience at MIT, re-set in a contemporary American high school. The concept actually worked pretty well; they left the libretto pretty close to alone, which was nice.
I organized and hosted a sing-in; some 60 people came from around the country. It was awesome.
I've been officially invited back to Buxton as a Young Ambassador. I'm still waiting to see how much the trip would cost me, but I think I'm probably going to do it. I'm definitely going to the Festival, because I was cast in the Savoynet show; what's at issue is whether I'll stay for the whole festival again or not. I won't be able to stay with a local family again.
I'm giving a recital tomorrow. First one ever. Tonight, by now, I guess. Mozart, Britten, Poulenc, Sullivan.

That's it for now.

There is Some Truth in That

2006-03-21T02:31:00.000Z

Pirates is over. A good experience, on the whole. Things were a little rocky during late rehearsals, and there was a time when I was concerned and discouraged, but everything turned out ok, and I felt good about my performances, on the whole. A bit of the Brown Daily Herald review:

Although the operetta's plot ended suddenly and a little confusingly, the musical and comedic performances by all the cast members made up for this minor flaw. In particular, the male leads, Jonathan Ichikawa GS and Alexander Ebin '07, displayed their wondrous singing and acting abilities as the Pirate King and Frederic, respectively. Ichikawa's deeper, more resonating voice complemented Ebin's clear tenor.

I feel like in this production, I took some steps toward connecting my on-stage performances with the things I'm doing in my voice lessons. I identified one of my problems, which is always an important step: I like to be very intense and focused on stage -- one of the ways this happens is by literally tensing up various muscles in my body. This past weekend, I learned that an important step for me is to maintain that physical intensity on stage, consistent with relaxing my body in the way my best singing requires. I have a long way to go, but I think I know where to be focusing now. For as long as I've been taking voice lessons, there's been a disconnect between what I can do in the studio and what I can do while I'm acting, and now I'm starting to close it. That's exciting.

Now that Pirates is over, I can devote myself further to learning Robin! Director Robert sent me a number of thoughts a few days ago -- it's time to start working on that.

Magnanimity

2006-03-18T20:47:00.000Z

Two performances of Pirates are now down -- we openned last night, and we had a matinee today. We have an evening show tonight, and then another matinee tomorrow, which is also our 'gag show'. It's gone rather well. I'm sorry to say that my voice was feeling a little tired, if healthy, this afternoon, and I wasn't vocally quite where I'd want to be. Last night had a smaller 'but' in its 'all but perfection'.

It's funny, when I'm just practicing singing by myself, it's easy for me to get enough breath for the long musical lines. In practice, I can always sing "Although our dark career sometimes involves the crime of stealing" in one breath. But something goes different when I get on stage. I'm getting over-excited or something, I guess. My acting has been just fine. But this show is giving me some good opportunities to practice increased vocal technique on stage. Hitherto, there's been an odd gap between my voice lessons and my performances.

I know a youth

2006-03-16T16:13:00.000Z

Savoynet cast has finally been announced. I'm playing Robin Oakapple! Yeah!

Also, Pirates opens tomorrow at Brown.

Very strange proceedings

2006-03-02T04:55:00.000Z

A few updates:

(1) No word yet on Buxton, either from the Young Artistes people or Savoynet casting. I still think I'm going this year, but I'm definitely looking forward to confirmation.

(2) Pirates is coming along apace. The Pirate King is a fun role, and a nice change for me. It's been a good long while since I've done a non-patter role. Fun factoid: I can now sing the optional high G at the end of the Pirate King song!

(3) My sing-in is really coming together. I'm very excited about it. Can you come to Providence April 29? Information is here.

(4) My troll is back! I have it on no less an authority than "Anonymous" that many people at Buxton laugh at me behind my back or roll their eyes and say "Oh, HIM" when my name is mentioned. Also, allegedly, I think that so many people adore me, but I do so erroneously.

Marvelous Illusion

2006-02-06T14:17:00.000Z

One more thing I forgot to mention: Emily discovered a funny thing. If you do a google image search for my name, the first hit to come up is a picture of G&S! Craziness!

Winter, rest

2006-02-06T06:45:00.000Z

Several things to report:

1. Pirates rehearsals have started! Fun.

2. My sing-in is on! April 29, Providence. You should come! More information soon.

3. My Ruddigore audition is submitted. Emily and I experienced every technical issue imaginable, but I finally got it in, just in time. Don received confirmation, so now all I have to do is wait.

4. I read in the new Festival newsletter that there are in fact Young Ambassadors events scheduled. So either I'll be invited back (hopefully soon!) or I'm to be replaced. With no indications of the latter, I'm optimistic.

5. I also read that the Young Artistes production is Iolanthe. The Festival production is Yeomen. I know it'd be a very long shot, but I'm thinking about trying for Jack Point...

Paragraphs got into all the papers

2006-01-09T15:01:00.000Z

The new NEGASS Trumpet Bray is out (PDF), and it includes two reviews of the Brown Iolanthe. Here they are!

Mercury Major:

Great IOLANTHE at Brown University

The Brown University Gilbert and Sullivan Society (BUGS), in its second staged production, has already reached a level of performance excellence equal to MITG&SP or Harvard/Radcliffe.

True, they lack money, so instead of a set, there was a large movie screen. During the overture a witty PowerPoint presentation showed the cast and their characters, and during each act it showed a nice backdrop— supplemented at appropriate times with useful (and funny!) information and commentary.

The costumes were as traditional as funds allowed. Evidently those didn’t run to capes and coronets, so the Peers were clad—surprisingly effectively—in dark suits with lace cravats and a crest on the pocket (a different crest for each peer). The fairies wore an eclectic assortment ranging in time from Ancient Greek and Egyptian through Hippie to funky contemporary—but all with wings. Again, it worked. Both male & female choruses were outstanding, in both singing and acting!

The Fairy Queen, Claire Coiro, had the best costume, a beautifully tailored long black dress with wide bell-like upper sleeves and multicolored lower sleeves and underskirt. She was tall and queenly, and though her waist was slender her presence was massive. Her singing voice was untrained, and therefore much quieter than her speaking voice, which was splendid. When she learns to sing with support and resonance, she will be a treasure to any Savoyard group!

The only inadequate costume was Private Willis’s; his tunic was the wrong type and looked unfinished, and his shako was just a cloth tube—but the actor, Jordan Elkind, compensated for it with his proud bearing and tall, soldierly figure. He did earn my wrath by changing the final notes of his “accept this friendship all the same” cadenza to a contemporary pop-music ending, TOTALLY unsuited to the harmony following in “this sacrifice to thy dear name.”

The lack of classical training was evident in many of the voices, but all were pleasant and tuneful. Iolanthe, Leila Chakravarty, had some trouble with “He loves”…until the “withered flowers” climax, which soared into glory! Her “My doom” section was strong and good, too.

Michelle Menard, the Phyllis, had a gorgeous professional-quality voice, and did a terrific long angry cadenza just before “Oh shameless one, tremble”. She and Strephon were a delightful couple. He looked much like Sam Gamgee in the Lord of the Rings movies, in both costume and figure (though not hobbit-sized, of course). He was sometimes hoarse, but otherwise very good: his “chorused Nature” speech was especially excellent. The Lord Chancellor, Charles Shrader, was a very fine singer and actor too. The lead Fairies (Jessica Marquardt, Maggie Machaiek, and Lana Zaman) and Peers (Stephen Higa and Jackson Hoy Loper) were all energetic, engaging and funny.

The music direction by Sam Baltimore was sprightly, though instruments and singers sometimes got out of sync, and the stage direction by Jonathan Ichikawa was excellent, with effective blocking and many imaginative touches. During “In vain to us you plead,” the fairies magically stuck one shoe of each peer to the ground on the first “don’t go”—which bothered me at first, because then why keep repeating it? But at “We’ll go!” each peer escaped by slipping out of the stuck shoe and exiting oneshoed. The fairies then snatched up the abandoned shoes and clutched them lovingly. Sweet and funny!

Strephon had a pet sheep which was a recurring prop. He addressed his soliloquies to it, sobbed into its fur at “Oh mother, weep with me,” and used it to demonstrate to the lords how Iolanthe mothered him. At “your Strephon might have died,” he turned it legsup, and put the “dead” sheep/baby Strephon into the arms of the Lord Chancellor, who wept over it. Then Lord Mountararat (Hoy Loper), in his “But as she’s not” solo, took it from the Chancellor and tossed it over his shoulder back to Strephon. The combination of his supremely aristocratic contempt and the high arc of the flying sheep was indescribably funny.

Another clever touch was that the fairies all had filmy scarves that rendered them invisible when pulled across their faces. Strephon had the same type of scarf over his wings. When Phyllis in Act 2 said “there’s nothing to show it,” he pulled the scarf off, and she suddenly saw his wings and reacted to them, opening and closing them and seeming utterly charmed. Just as I was by this performance. Well done, BUGS!

Peter and Linda Silverstein:

Hurrah for BUGS – Brown University Gilbert & Sullivan- now celebrating its second season! It is wonderful that younger generations continue to “inherit” an appreciation for the works of G&S and it is gratifying to witness a college student performer declaring that “All we want to do is bring G&S to the people.”

We went to Providence to see the BUGS Fall production of IOLANTHE at the List Art Center on the Brown campus. Admission was free! It became apparent that the majority of the audience at this performance was composed of the families and friends of those involved in the show with a smattering of true G&S fans. It was also clear that BUGS, by its own admission, is an organization in need of additional funding and support -- as evidenced by its small-lecture-hall venue with a non-moveable podium, white-boards, the lack of a legitimate set, and the orchestra crammed into a corner. But what the group lacked in cash, space, and materiel it made up for in ingenuity. No scenery? Not a problem. Simply project a PowerPoint presentation with slides of Arcadia and Parliament. This ploy was actually quite clever and was also used to explain the plot and the characters to a largely non-Savoyard audience. Act II, for example, began with a very cute explanation of the differences between peers and fairies.

In short, BUGS shows great promise and should be headed for better stages. C’mon guys, you can charge for admission! BUGS will be producing PIRATES in the spring, and I encourage NEGASSers to head to Providence (where there are also lots of great restaurants) and check it out.

It displays a lot of stocking

2005-12-18T02:57:00.000Z

Not really, but it's funny.

I'm the webmaster for Brown University Gilbert & Sullivan, and I've just made a site. It's probably still buggy, and it's definitely still thin on content, but it's up now. Check it out, if you like.

Ha ha!

2005-12-16T06:37:00.000Z

Savoynet is doing Ruddigore! August 8.

This is very, very exciting. Auditions, I assume, will occur in the next month or two.

It's my bedtime, now -- I expect to dream about playing Robin Oakapple.

Everything is interesting

2005-12-10T16:08:00.000Z

I've been meaning to write in here several times in the past few weeks -- I've just been too busy, I'm afraid. I meant to write some detailed thoughts about the Iolanthe I directed at Brown, and about attending and performing at AppleFest in New York, and a detailed review of the VLOG Yeomen, and some thoughts on the MIT Mikado, and my thoughts about auditioning for Pirates at Brown, but I've done none of those things. So here's the very quick version:

Iolanthe went very well. I loved that cast. It came together more last-minute than I'd've liked, but it really did end up being a high-quality product. We did some clever things with a pretty inconvenient venue, including some fun Powerpoint background stuff. Maybe sometime soon I'll type up a list of some of the particular things I enjoyed about that Iolanthe, but I don't have the time now. (This post is coming during a quick break from writing a term paper.)

AppleFest was a fun time. I came back exhausted, but I really enjoyed spending some time with old friends and making some new ones, and doing some singing, too. It had been a while since I'd done any performing of any kind. Buxton, I think, had been the last time I'd sung for an audience. Friday night there was a Pirates sing-through. The crowd was a little thin, so the choruses could have used some filling out, but it was still a fun evening. Samuel had to leave half-way through, and Sam asked me to take his place, so I sang the distribution of pirate tools. It was fun.

Saturday afternoon we had a long rehearsal for the Saturday night concert, and then Saturday night we had the Saturday night concert. Lots of people were coming together from all over to sing lots of stuff, and only some of them made it to the rehearsal. Blue Hill was auditioning that day, so many of them were unable to come until later. Indeed, some of them showed up at the theater as we were walking onto the stage! So it was a partially improvosational concert, but I thought it went quite well. I sang in all the choruses, and I also sang the Bunthorne/Jane duet (on zero rehearsal with that Jane!). I was just slightly distressed to see that my other solo was the last solo of the evening, immediately following the sublime Richard Holmes's "Time was when love and I...", which was one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. But my song was sufficiently contrasting as to make things acceptable. I'd written a new "Little List" song. Here it is:

As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,
I've got a little list — I've got a little list
Of society offenders who might well be underground,
And who never would be missed — who never would be missed!
There's the pestilential nuisances who write for autographs —
All people who have flabby hands and irritating laughs —
All children who are up in dates, and floor you with 'em flat —
All persons who in shaking hands, shake hands with you like that —
And all third persons who on spoiling tête-á-têtes insist —
They'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed!

There's the tenor who enthuses with his GARISH FORTE TONE!!!! [Very loudly, on a high note]
He never will desist! — I've got him on the list!
And the minor lead who points out every flaw except her own
She never would be missed! I've got her on the list!
There's the overzealous chorister with rubber for a face [here, make an exaggeratedly enthusiastic facial expression]
And the patter man who's sure that down and center is his place
And the lady who does musicals, and recently she's felt
That the problem with light op'ra is, we sing instead of BELT!
And that singular anomaly, the diva solipsist--
I don't think she'd be missed — I'm sure she'd not he missed!

And the one who treats "ensnarl" and "general" as if they rhyme
The amateur parodist -- his rhyming and his scansion are bad!
The conductor and the pianist who can't keep up the time [here, Clive drags terribly]--
[To him:] Stay with the soloist, or I'll put you on the list!
And the internet savoyards of a compromising kind,
Such as — What d'ye call him — Thing'em-BLOG, and SAVOYNE...ever-mind,
And tut-tut-tut and What's-his-name, and also You-know-who —
The task of filling up the blanks I'd rather leave to you.
But it really doesn't matter whom you put upon the list,
For they'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed!

Sunday afternoon I went to see the VLOG Yeomen, which I thought was pretty good. I'd written some notes for a detailed review, but I seem to have lost them. If I have time later, I may try to say some more specific things. And Sunday evening was an Iolanthe sing-through, where I got to sing one of my favorite roles, Strephon.

Whew, ok, that's the quick version of AppleFest.

Next: the MIT Mikado. I went to go see it last night. Unfortunately, I'd gotten myself mixed up, as the closing show was yesterday afternoon. So I missed it, which I'm still sort of beating myself up about. My best friend Emily was directing and music directing. I helped them with their set strike, then availed myself of their cast party. I'm tired today.

Last week I auditioned for Pirates at Brown. I'd been debating whether I'd rather do the Pirate King or the Major-General, and decided I'd rather do the Pirate King. I really enjoyed the Major-General in August, but that was awfully recent (indeed, that was the most recent show I've performed in). And I don't know that the role would give me a lot of chance for improvement just now -- I don't know that my skills have developed in a way that would make my Major-General in March much better than my Major-General in August was. The Pirate King, on the other hand, gives me some cool opportunities for development and improvement of some skills. Vocally, it's a more interesting role for me right now, and of course the acting would just be a lot of fun. I did the role once, long ago -- 1998, I think. My second G&S role ever, at the ripe old age of 16. Sam (Iolanthe music director) and I were the only two called back for both of those roles, so we knew we'd each get one. I'd've been perfectly happy to do either, but I was very happy this morning to read that I'd gotten the Pirate King. That will be fun.

Ok, back to work. Yes, philosophers may sing, but this philosopher/singiner must philosophize. More eventually.

Ever singing, ever dancing

2005-11-18T05:22:00.000Z

My Iolanthe at Brown opens tomorrow night. We've been working very hard, and it's a really fun show. I love my cast. Wish us broken legs.

If you're in striking distance of Providence, come!

Dainty little fairies!

2005-10-29T20:16:00.000+01:00

I've been so busy this semester that I haven't really had time to blog about my experience directing the BUGS Iolanthe, but I just wanted to drop in a quick entry about how much fun this group is. We have a lot of really talented and enthusiastic young performers, and I expect our production to be a hit. We're behind schedule on blocking, unfortunately, but with a big push in the next two weeks, we'll be ready to go. I love this group. I just blocked the opening scene with the cutest bunch of fairies in history.

Also, I'm very excited about this apparent G&S event in New York in December.

Till then!

2005-08-25T19:14:00.000+01:00

Just in case anyone is still checking in, expecting to see me posting updates here regularly, I don't plan to continue posting every day, now that my Buxton 2005 experience is complete. I'll post here when I have something to say that seems noteworthy and has to do with G&S. I'll continue to review shows and write about my projects when that comes up. I'll also post about Buxton 2006 when that time comes: hopefully I'll be posting to say that I'm on my way!

Thanks for following my trip, everyone. (Almost everyone.) It's been fun.

And how you've improved!

2005-08-23T21:56:00.000+01:00

I woke up Sunday morning with a sore throat, as I had the previous morning. On Saturday, I'd felt awful in the morning and marked in rehearsals. Then I cleared up over the course of the day and felt fine, if not in quite top form, by evening. Sunday morning I felt just as bad as I had Saturday morning, and our rehearsal began at 9:30, and our orchestra call (where Andrew needed us to not-mark so he could hear balance) was at 10:30, and our show was at 2:30. I was worried.

The dress, from my point of view, did not go well. My sinuses were heavily congested, and I wasn't getting any of the upper-face resonance sensations I'm used to when I sing. I also didn't have my top range, where "top" is construed liberally to extend down to about a C. I felt very tired and had a sort of fuzzy sensation when I walked around, and I had difficulty concentrating. I had a difficult time staying with Andrew's baton for the Major-General song, and I had an extremely difficult time staying with it for "Sighing softly." I was also having difficulty supporting my voice, which resulted in lots and lots of going flat. (I was only aware of the cause, not the symptom, until Emily explained it to me over lunch.)

I left the dress rehearsal very discouraged. Barring a very dramatic change in health, there was no way I was going to put on anything close to my top performance. I had lunch with Emily in low spirits, and was sorry that my Savoynet friends would see me perform in this state. Occasionally I would make those silly little noises that singers make sometimes to see how my voice was feeling. Halfway through lunch, on perhaps my sixth silly little noise, something amazing happened. Very suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, my head was much clearer, and when I made a little falsetto whoop sound, I felt it resonate through my nasal cavity, and I even got that awesome forehead sensation. I became cautiously optimistic, and when I went back to the dressing rooms to get ready for the show, I warmed up in full voice to a G-sharp and felt just fine. My nose still needed to blown fairly often, but as long as I kept it clear, I felt close to as good as new! I don't know if my body decided ok, there's just no choice now, you MUST be healthy, or if something I ate really did the trick, or if I was just phenomenally lucky, or what, but wow, was that a close call.

The actual show was worlds better than the dress rehearsal. I felt like I actually was able to give a performance. I sang and I acted. I was actually pretty far from perfect, but I didn't do anything I'm really ashamed about. I have a hard time keeping myself breathing properly during the Major-General song; really there's no reason I shouldn't be able to do each half-verse in one breath, but I only manage a good enough breath something like half the time. I did about as well as average for me in performance on that score -- I did have to drop a minor word in one verse for a breath. I think, but I'm not sure, that it was the "I" in "I quote in elegiacs all the crimes of Heliogabalus". If I'm going to drop a syllable, I think that's an ok syllable to drop.

I got myself onto the wrong side of the stage near the end of "Sighing softly", which was unfortunate because it does affect the chorus, but they followed me around effectively, and I don't think anything would've been apparently wrong to the audience. The song itself, the hardest thing I had to sing that day, went ok. When I reviewed the video, I saw that I was trying to rush just a little bit at the beginning of it for the first couple of lines, but I settled in pretty well after that.

It's probably obvious from my blog that I take accuracy of spoken dialogue rather seriously. The Major-General doesn't have many spoken lines, but he does have a couple that I do have a hard time keeping straight. It's this scene, with the tough parts emphasized:

GENERAL: Why do I sit here? To escape from the pirates' clutches, I described myself as an orphan; and, heaven help me, I am no orphan! I come here to humble myself before the tombs of my ancestors, and to implore their pardon for having brought dishonour on the family escutcheon.
FREDERIC: But you forget, sir, you only bought the property a year ago, and the stucco on your baronial castle is scarcely dry.
GENERAL: Frederic, in this chapel are ancestors: you cannot deny that. With the estate, I bought the chapel and its contents. I don't know whose ancestors they were, but I know whose ancestors they are, and I shudder to think that their descendant by purchase (if I may so describe myself) should have brought disgrace upon what, I have no doubt, was an unstained escutcheon.

Much of the challenge is keeping the dishonour and disgrace straight. My mnemonic was that saying "humble" in the first line is my cue to say "dishonour" shortly thereafter; they're both 'h' words. And then I have to keep in mind that I've already said "dishonour", and that therefore "disgrace" is next. A secondary problem is that when I learned this dialogue on my own before I came here, I added an imaginary 'n' to the word "escutcheon" without realizing it. So I came in talking about "escuntcheons". So in addition to working to keep dishonour and disgrace straight, I had to remember that there's no 'n' in that part of that word. This on top of acting, of course.

I'm happy to say that I did manage to put the dishonour and disgrace in the right place, but in my relief at saying "disgrace" properly, I forgot to worry about the second consideration, and I did put a tiny 'n' into "escuntcheon". It was not an emphasized word in the sentence, though, and I got it right the first time, so I think it's quite believable that no one who wasn't looking for me to make that particular mistake would've noticed. I can only barely hear it on the DVD.

Other general observations about my performance: I'm generally pretty happy with my facial expressions. I only judge my stage presence as ok, though. There's a bit more extraneous movement than would be ideal. It's worlds better than the sort of flailing about I always did a year or two ago, but there's still room for improvement, which for me comes chiefly from confidence and comfort with what exactly I'm doing on stage. I'm amazed how much my voice improved between the morning and the afternoon. I didn't sound perfect and amazing, but it's not a vocal performance I'm at all embarrassed by.

The show as a whole came together quite nicely, I think. Energy came up quite a lot when we were put in front of an audience. (Bigger than we'd been lead to believe, and pretty responsive. Not full, but not depressingly small.) I think that Justin did amazingly in being fit into this production in just three days. He seemed very comfortable with the role. Sharae was just great, as expected. It's always a joy and honor to work on stage with John, who was a very strong -- and very funny -- Pirate King. The audience loved our "chorus" of police, comprising two strong singers, a baritone and a bass, and one small child, Andrew and Christine's son. Some really cute stuff going on there.

On the whole, I think we can be proud of ourselves. The schedule we work with is so short that these things must necessarily come together rather last-minute-ly, and come together our Pirates did. David Turner gave comments on each of the principals, and on the chorus, but not on the production on the whole. He was very kind to all of us. Maybe I'll type up what he said about me later.

For now, I have to shut down my computer, because my battery is almost dead and I'm flying over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, where there are no power outlets.

A wonderful joy our eyes to bless

2005-08-23T21:34:00.000+01:00

Thanks for all the comments on the last post, and for the people who've emailed me privately with their thoughts. I'm terribly sorry to have upset people, but I don't know that I feel as if I've done anything that I shouldn't have. The only resolution for change I've made thus far is: be even more careful not to be misinterpretable.

One comment I did want to respond specifically to, because I found it interesting, was Martin's:

I frequently get vibes that Jonathan views that there is only 'one true' way to do G&S - and that all other attemps just don't come up to his expectations.

It's surprising to me that Martin places me in the "one right way to do it" camp; I generally think of myself as an appreciator of intelligent innovation. Trent provides two good examples in recent memory: I liked the new setting and new take on Princess Ida this year, and I loved Simon Theobald's performance as Jack Point last year, even though I disagreed with much of the interpretation. I don't like every concept and alternate interpretation I see, because many of them aren't sufficiently thought through. But I'm certainly not opposed to them in principle. (And Martin, I loved your Pooh-Bah last year.) I absolutely agree with Martin when he says:

I prefer to be in the 'creative' arts, and am admittedly not interested in 're-creating' anything, G&S or otherwise.

I'm at Gatwick airport now, waiting for my flight back to the U.S. This means I finally have a bit of time to write a couple of things I've been promising for a while, starting with a review of the professional Ruddigore, which I saw Saturday night. I loved the production; I think it's hard to imagine a show that is better suited to the particular performers in the G&S Opera Company. (Running through the canon and casting the principals in my head, Yeomen is the only other one that makes me raise my eyebrows and say "oooh".) I thought that almost all of the central roles -- Robin, Dick Dauntless, Despard, Hannah, Roderic, and Mad Margaret -- were really cast with the absolutely ideal performers. Rose is missing from this list, not because she wasn't good, which she was, but because I don't think she's the best Rose I can imagine. It's too bad she had to follow Charlotte Page, who was the best Rose I can imagine.

I spoke a bit with Simon and a few others in the professional company after the show, and the general impression seemed to be that it wasn't as crisp as they'd've liked; things had gone wrong, and it sounded from the inside like it was one of those nights where one is just thankful to have been able to hold everything together. This wasn't hard to believe -- I did notice mistakes, including even one or two from my hero Simon, but it was in every respect a professional production, and someone less familiar with the show wouldn't have noticed anything wrong at all.

I smiled almost the entire show, beginning with the opening chorus. How exciting it is to see a professional chorus in action! There's really nothing like it at the amateur level. The very best principal performers in excellent amateur productions sometimes approach the quality of professional principals, but one never sees and hears such involved choreographed precision, musical sensitivity, and vocal power, in an amateur chorus. I didn't love the opening choreography -- I thought it was a little more "sign-language-y" than I prefer -- but it was so wonderful to see the precise, deliberate, and coordinated movement that I didn't mind a bit. The bridesmaids did a very nice job with that classic challenge of displaying boredom without being boring. A few village men going about their business unobtrusively in the background added a nice touch of realism.

The chorus of bridesmaids was also full of beautiful young women.

Jill Pert as Dame Hannah was at once kindly and commanding. She delivered the first verse of her song sitting down left in her rocking chair and had no difficulty commanding the stage from that position. (The chorus helps here, of course.) A glorious, powerful voice, too. Like I said above, I think she was perfect for the part.

Mary Hegarty's Rose Maybud was beautifully sung and comfortable on stage. But I didn't quite feel that Rose was her role the way I felt about the other principals, or indeed about Charlotte last year. Her spoken voice was deeper, more worldly. I think she'd make a phenomenal Josephine, but she was only a very good Rose. There were a couple of points where I felt as if she wasn't quite sure what Rose was thinking. The most obvious example was at the beginning of Act II, where she sang:

While you'll be asserting
Your freedom by flirting
With every woman you meet,
You cheat--Ah!
With every woman you meet! Ah!
FOR I am such a smart little craft, etc.

The "for" should be a "though", and the sentence doesn't make sense the way she sang it -- he'll cheat on her because she's so great? No, he'll cheat on her even though she's so great. Her acting matched what she sang. The chorus sang the correct word when they repeated her.

I did think that Rose's acting in her Act I duet with Robin was delightful. I loved that scene.

And speaking of Robin, Simon Butteriss did not disappoint. He's a phenomenal performer, and I really do think that Robin must be one of his very best roles. (I've only seen a few -- I've seen him do Ko-Ko, Sir Joseph, and Robin twice, so it's just possible that he might be even more brilliant in other roles, but Robin seems awfully perfect for him to me.) Robin's an interesting character, even before his dramatic interval transformation, and Simon is flawless at turning his dual nature into depth, instead of inconsistency. I'm thinking especially of the "My boy you may take it from me" scene.

I also loved the way that he communicated the ridiculous plot exposition to the audience in their first scene. I think you can tell a lot about an actor by the way he handles this sort of pure exposition. Here's the line I'm thinking of:

Hush! As you love me, breathe not that hated name. Twenty years ago, in horror at the prospect of inheriting that hideous title, and with it the ban that compels all who succeed to the baronetcy to commit at least one deadly crime per day, for life, I fled my home, and concealed myself in this innocent village under the name of Robin Oakapple. My younger brother, Despard, believing me to be dead, succeeded to the title and its attendant curse. For twenty years I have been dead and buried. Don't dig me up now.

Simon did the two absolutely necessary things, plus the nice bonus: he effectively communicated the important information, he wasn't boring, and he effectively communicated the bit of ironic exposition meta-humor without breaking character. It was awesome.

Simon included "Henceforth all the crimes," which is a song I like quite a lot. He took it at a very fast clip, which is no surprise from Simon. I do think, though, that the recit. before it benefits from being sung more or less in time. Each phrase -- away, remose; compunction, hence; go, moral force; go, penitence -- is written with a different rhythmic pattern. I think it's interesting and worthwhile to preserve that element of Sullivan's writing. (This is something I learned last spring when the M.D. for the Rice Patience insisted, quite rightly, that I observe the written rhythms in the recit. before Bunthorne's solo.)

Simon sang one word different from the version I know: "Propriety I wring THY knell." My Schirmer score says "YOUR knell." Schirmer sometimes gets things wrong, though; any suggestions as to where I can double-check this?

Oliver White's entrance as Dick Dauntless was exciting and fun. He looks the part exactly: tall, blonde, dashing, with just the right swagger, including the bit of hair that falls over his forehead. And he moves very well, and I just loved his command of the dialect. Great voice too, obviously. He was loads of fun.

I decided that night what should have been obvious much earlier: G&S benefits dramatically from good and interesting choreography. I need to learn to dance, and I need to learn to choreograph.

I thought the dialogue leading up to "In sailing o'er life's ocean wide" was phenomenal. It was a wonderful scene. The trio itself was excellent too, although it did include one of the few moments of musical imprecision I noticed the whole night. The three performers were not all together with the ending consonants in "a heart, a heart". One of the drawbacks of such a short rehearsal, I guess -- it's phenomenal that they're so clean as much of the time as they are!

Victoria Byron's performance of Mad Margaret had drama and humor and excitement and a wonderfully clear and strong mezzo. The "I once was a very abandoned person" scene with Despard is tricky, I think. It reads very well on paper, but it can be difficult to be put effectively on stage; it's basically a one-joke affair, and the danger is that it will get old. It didn't even get close to getting old in this production.

There was a nice joke in that scene which seems pretty obvious, now that I've seen it, but I don't recall ever noticing it before. Margaret says

Master, when I think of all you have done for me, I fall at your feet. I embrace your ankles. I hug your knees!

A joke was made of the implied imminent continuation of the apparent progression.

Speaking of Despard, I remember being disappointed in Bruce Graham's acting in the role last year. I don't know whether he's improved or my preferences have changed, but I thought that he was a delight to watch. There was a delightful understated melodrama to his Act I entrance. I loved it. And of course his voice is amazing. I do think that he was suffering vocal fatigue by that point, though -- either that or he really does not have the low range that Despard needs. His large, sonorous voice did not have its customary resonance on the bottom notes of the Act II duet.

At the end of his Act I entrance, Despard scared off the various villagers with a rose -- not a traditionally threatening implement. I love the flower imagery that runs throughout Ruddigore, and I'm very tempted to suppose that this particular flower, like so many in the libretto, teemed with hidden meaning. I haven't been able to figure out just what that hidden meaning is yet, but I'm still thinking about it.

(Self-involved aside: I have only a little experience directing, and only moderate interest in doing more. But I do aspire to direct a production of Ruddigore. Preferably after I've discharged my aspiration to play Robin.)

I loved Robin and Adam's (Michael Rayner's) entrance in Act II. The costume and attitude change was phenomenal. And both of them nailed that E-flat or whatever the note lands on for "de-sham".

I have never heard an audience laugh at this line from Rose:

Prove that this was no selfish love by according your consent to my marriage with one who, if he be not you yourself, is the next best thing--your dearest friend!

I think it's a very funny line, and that it was delivered perfectly well by Mary. I wish it'd gotten a laugh.

Roderic's entrance was convincingly and frightfully done, and Donald Maxwell's performance was imposing and strong. There's a hell of a voice on that one, and his figure was suitably threatening. His costume and make-up reminded me of Cervantes, one of the characters I learned to play this summer in Soul Caliber II.

I have to remark that Simon is a very effective collapser. As some of you know, I have a new appreciation for this particular talent, and Simon had to do it several times over the evening. Well done.

Some people say that "There grew a little flower" does not fit well into Ruddigore. They tend to say things like: it's a nice song, and I like listening to it, but it just slows down the end of Act II too much. I find this very difficult to understand. I think that any time you have even half-decent performers as Hannah and Roderic, listening to the Hannah's lyrics can give chills. It's a beautiful, beautiful song, and it's thematically important, and it's important for the characters. (A bit of restored dialogue afterward is probably a good idea, too.)

The company added one new line (someone correct me if this is traditional and/or Gilbert's): after Rose leaves Richard for Robin (again) at the end of Act II, Richard says, "Well, I think it's exceedingly unfair." He looks forlorn for a couple of seconds, then brightens up with an idea and adds: "Where's that other girl?" and finds Zorah. I loved it.

I don't usually like the odd rhythms written in the "Basingstoke" version of the finale. We sang them in the MIT production that I did in 2003, and they just seemed so awkward. I learned from this production, though, that they can be perfectly effective if they're taken at a quick tempo. They just sound interesting instead of weird.

It was a phenomenal production, and I'm glad that the Smith's decided to bring it back. I think that it was quite a lot better than the Sorcerer from the previous weekend.

Back safe in Houston now. Coming soon: a more detailed account of my Pirates Sunday.

Allow me to explain

2005-08-22T14:13:00.000+01:00

I've obviously struck at least a couple of people the wrong way in my reviews. One anonymous commenter in particular seems to been so offended that he (or she) has taken to scanning my archives to find insulting things to say.

Let me just spell out a couple of things that I'd hoped would've been clear to readers, but maybe weren't.

I love Gilbert & Sullivan, and I love watching G&S performances. That's one of my favorite things about the festivals.

When I review shows, I identify both things that I do like and things that I do not like. The fact that there are things that I do not like does not mean that I do not have great respect for the shows and the performers.

This is my diary, and I write about my experiences, and express my opinions, and focus on the performances I'm in, with a special emphasis on myself. I make no apologies for this. I don't think I'm more worthy of being talked about than other people, it's just that this is my diary, so of course I write about me.

As a performer, I value sincere constructive criticism very highly, and I would welcome anyone to give candid appraisals of any of my work, the way that I have given candid appraisals of the performances I write about here.

In light of various reactions to things I've written here, I am rethinking my approach to reviewing shows. I don't mean to come across as negative, and I certainly don't mean to come across as "a pompous, self-aggrandizing ass, quick to pick up on the faults of others yet unable to recognise your own." If that's the way I've been coming across to a substantial number of readers, then I ought to make a change in the way I handle things. I do expect that I will probably be back in Buxton in 2006, if I can save enough money. That leaves me plenty of time to decide how I want to handle this blog.

I invite suggestions.

(Still to come for Buxton 2005: a review of the professional Ruddigore and a more detailed account of the Young Artistes Pirates.)

See my way to a successful result

2005-08-21T18:33:00.000+01:00

Updates:

Pirates went well -- better than I'd thought it would. I was not feeling at all well for the dress rehearsal, and my voice was only partially there, but I felt pretty 'on' for the performance, which seemed to be well-received. I only know of a couple of things I wish I'd done better -- a minor word flub in the Major-General song, an added "n" in "escutcheon," and a failure to move back to stage right at the appropriate time during "Sighing softly." All told, I'm reasonably happy with myself, although of course that may change when I see the video.

I'm very tired now.

The awards ceremony occurred. Savoynet received nominations for ten of the eighteen awards for which it was eligible, and won three of them.

Winners:
Best Character Actor: Ron, Lord Chancellor
Best Concerted Item: March of the Peers
Second Runner-Up: Best Show

Other Nominees:
Best Costumes
Most Animated Chorus
Best Male Voice: Gary, Strephon
Best Supporting Actor: Ian, Mountararat
Best Chorus
Best Music Director
Best Director

Congratulations to all the people who worked on Iolanthe, and especially to Ron for his award.

We took third place overall. Second was South Anglia's Mikado and first was Derby's Sorcerer. In my opinion, Blue Hill did not get its due.

More to follow eventually, including a review of the professional Ruddigore. Now: dinner with Emily and general relaxing.

There's a chance I won't post more for a couple of days, as I'm traveling starting tomorrow. We'll see.

We give you to tomorrow afternoon!

2005-08-21T01:21:00.000+01:00

I'm feeling very tired tonight, and I have to get going early tomorrow for our production of Pirates. We start in the theater at 9:00, dress rehearsal starts at 10:30, and the show is at 2:30.

I loved Ruddigore and wish I had time to write a proper review. I will do so soon, but not tonight.

Part of the reason I'm tired is that I got in later than I meant to, thanks to being locked outside my host family's house when my key broke in the lock! Happily, Emily and I were rescued before I had to resort to doing my best impression of Spider-Man.

Wish me (and my voice!) luck tomorrow.

Sing me your song, oh

2005-08-20T17:24:00.000+01:00

I'm not feeling great. I marked in rehearsal today. If I'm no worse tomorrow, then I'll be ok, although it won't be fun. If I'm better, that'd be awesome. If I'm worse, there could be trouble.

I do have to sing at least a little tonight -- we're leading the audience in big choruses on the opera house stage before the show, and I'm also slated to sing Antonio in the pot luck Gondoliers. I might leave early after that, though. I'll see what Emily feels like doing -- I meet her in half an hour.

Unrelated to Buxton, Peter Zavon emailed me and pointed out that the newest edition of the Trumpet Bray is now online. (PDF here.) It includes a review by Dean Edmonds of the MIT Yeomen from May, where I played Jack Point. It's the most glowing thing I've ever read about myself, so obviously it made me feel good. Here's the part where he talks about me:

And then Jack Point (Jonathan Ichikawa) and Elsie Maynard (Colleen Dever) appeared, and this is where the show really took off. From the instant these two came on stage, the production became a scintillating masterpiece. That both have had considerable stage experience was immediately obvious, as they exhibited magnificent voices and professional acting ability. Jonathan's full and sonorous baritone made any worries about the room's acoustics disappear, and his acting rivaled that of any Jack Point I've ever seen, including that of the greatest Jack Point of all, the original D'Oyly Carte's Martyn Green. When he and Elsie came on for their famous duet, "I have a song to sing, oh," their performance was among the best renditions I can remember, and from then on, I sat up and took notice as I sort of hadn't done up until then. Jonathan's acting and dancing were outstanding, although there were one or two times when I thought his springing about the stage (at which he was a master) was just a teeny bit overdone. But his shift from broken hearted lover to professional jester in his second-act scene with Wilfred (including his rendition of one of my favorite songs, "Oh! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon ---") was superb, and I spent a lot of time wondering how he would handle the disastrous finale.

As I have written before now, YEOMEN, which I consider to be Sullivan's real grand opera, presents a terrible problem at the end for any director. Here Jack Point, who is really the principal character in this drama, is left without a mate. If I recall correctly, this is the only G&S opera (with the exception of PATIENCE, where you're really glad there's no bride for Bunthorne) in which a major character is left so stranded. We have it on no less an authority than Katisha that "no one ever yet died of a broken heart," and I've witnessed many a director's attempt to make Point's collapse believable. Only twice have I seen it pulled off convincingly. The first time was with the consummate actor Martyn Green. The second was Jonathan's performance last Saturday. There was one added touch which helped him do it. In that last scene Elsie took off the ribbons she used to dance with when she was the merryman's maid and pressed them into Point's hands so that he could sort of crumple over them. And so once more I left the theater in tears, which is, as I've said before, the only reason why YEOMEN OF THE GUARD is not my favorite Gilbert-&-Sullivan.

I'm speechless.

In all but perfection?

2005-08-20T00:59:00.000+01:00

I had a conversation yesterday that I meant to write about, but forgot to. I was speaking with someone about how it's difficult for Americans and other non-English people to come to the Festival, and especially how it's difficult to stay for the whole thing. Money is a major factor, but for most, it's not the only one. It's hard to get that much time off of work, or to leave a family behind, or to bring a family to Buxton, especially if they don't love G&S! It was a time to be thankful that I'm a single academic. (This also connects interestingly with my latest tarot reading.)

Anyway. On to today. No review tonight, because I didn't go see Ruddigore. I'm going tomorrow. Instead, I stayed in and studied the "Medieval art" trio. I also drank about twelve glasses of water and a big cup of tea, and was feeling good as new by festival cabaret time. Oh yeah, we also sang in front of the opera house before the show today. Very good turnout, really -- Paul estimated that 200 people stood around us and listened to us sing. Maybe some of them will turn into ticket sales for Sunday. I hope so. I sang Sir Joseph's song again. The thing is actually very slightly beginning to grow on me; it was never a favorite patter song before, but I've done it three or four times this festival, and it's fun to sing, and always well-received.

Everybody raved about the Ruddigore. I can't wait to see it. I got a chance to chat for a while with Simon at the Festival Club, and of course he was his usual modest self, but he said he expects it to be better tomorrow, and I believe him. I'm very excited. I'm going to decide tomorrow night whether to purchase the DVD of the professional Ruddigore from this year, or from last year.

Our cabaret went fine, I thought. "Medieval art" came together with absolutely zero rehearsal. It would've been nice to have gotten a chance to coordinate a few movements, but it worked out ok, and we got the notes right, and, well, at least most of the words. I also sang Private Willis's song, which is a lot of fun to sing. We repeatedly plugged our production of Pirates, and maybe we'll sell some tickets as a result. One can hope.

After our performance, I spoke to a few friendly people who offered me some suggestions about Private Willis's song. One of them suggested that my accent was inappropriate, which I already knew. He said I sounded like an officer, not like a private. I've remarked here before that I have a lot of work to do, accent-wise, and it's absolutely necessary that I get that under control before I can take the next step up in G&S performance.

The other comment came from a woman who told me that I'd sung a wrong note. I love Buxton for the fact that people notice these things! Last year a gentleman pointed out a wrong note I'd sung as Lord Chancellor in a pot luck Iolanthe, and thanks to him I knew where to focus when someone made the same mistake in a concert I music directed in December. I must admit that I did not have time to go over Private Willis's song with a score before performing it tonight, but it's one that I've done several times, and I thought that I knew it pretty well, and I hadn't noticed singing a wrong note tonight, so the comment surprised me. I really hope I haven't learned something wrong. I looked over a score when I got home, but I didn't see anything that I obviously had wrong in my head. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to remember where it was that I'd gone wrong, but she said it was near the end. I didn't think to ask her whether I'd done it in both verses. If anyone reading this heard me sing Private Willis tonight and noticed a wrong note from me and remembers where it was, I'd appreciate a comment. Barring that, the only think I can think to do is to go over and note-bash the piece again.

I'm not losing sleep over it, obviously. And if I just slipped the once tonight, then life goes on. But obviously, I hope to get every note right next time the song comes up, which is why I'm taking it seriously.

Speaking of sleep, it's getting to be about that time. I have a long day of rehearsal tomorrow, then I meet Emily and go see Ruddigore. Only two more days in Buxton! Until next year, at least. (I really, really hope I'm able to get the funds together to come back again next year. I guess I probably ought to also make a point of continuing to be a single academic. =P)

Whose voice can't be gainsaid

2005-08-19T17:41:00.000+01:00

Mid-way through rehearsal today, I came to recognize a sad, if perhaps not surprising fact. My voice is starting to get tired. I've been singing quite a lot every day for three weeks now, without any problems, but I think singing "Hail, poetry" and "Sighing softly" several times a day, full-voiced, has taken its toll. I've already decided to take it easy and mark tomorrow, even if, as will hopefully be the case, I feel splendid again by then. It's not *bad* now -- I don't think it's manifest in sound yet, but there is just that little bit of tell-tale scratchiness that I've learned to take seriously.

This is compounded by the fact that taking the night off would not be a particularly easy thing to do. The Young Ambassadors are singing outside the opera house today, and I'm to do Sir Joseph's song again. (Singing out there is a special challenge, because the sound really does tend to disappear, and we have to push pretty hard. I'm going to resist that temptation tonight and sing Sir Joseph comfortably. My apologies to anyone too far away to hear.)

And we learned today that after tonight's show (the first of three showings of the professional Ruddigore), we're to sing a cabaret. I'm singing with John and Justin in "It's clear that medieval art," and I'm also singing Private Willis's song. I love Private Willis's song, but it's not one that's easy on my voice. I'll just make sure to warm up properly. And I'll have to decide whether to add in the high note that I like at the end. The problem with the Patience trio is that I've never sung it before. Fortunately, I have about five hours between now and the cabaret, and very little scheduled in between, other than finding dinner. (I'm going to see Ruddigore tomorrow, with Emily.) It's not that tricky, and I'm fairly confident I can handle it. It's odd to go on having never, ever rehearsed it before, though!

We did a full run of the show today, for the first time. I think a lot of us were tired, and energy was a little bit low, but we can see the show taking shape now. One more day of hard work tomorrow, then we go into the theater early Sunday. Best-friend-Emily arrives tomorrow evening.

That popular mystery

2005-08-19T01:02:00.000+01:00

I glanced at my counter results today for the first time in a while. I had no idea so many people were reading this thing! I'm averaging over 500 hits a day! Hi, everybody!

His capacity for innocent enjoyment

2005-08-19T00:44:00.001+01:00

When I think about the sort of schedule I've been keeping, I'm amazed and very thankful that I'm still healthy. I'm at the festival club every night, where I usually have three pints and stay until well after midnight, sometimes getting close to 2:00, then I come home and write about the day. I took an early night tonight, which means I came home at about midnight, before the main cabaret. I'm feeling fine, just a bit tired, and maybe it's best to listen to my body when it tells me it's tired for the next couple of days.

He's in the tent, sir, refreshing

2005-08-19T00:44:00.000+01:00

I'm learning to expect extremely intelligent and innovative productions from Andrew Nicklin. Tonight's Sorcerer really was something special. I'm not seasoned enough that describing it as the best Sorcerer I've ever seen means all that much, but for what it's worth, it was the best Sorcerer I've ever seen. The concept, which including a setting in the 1940s, was just so intelligent, and so sensitive to the text. It was a really cleverly thought-through production, and I really enjoyed it. One tiny example: at the end of Act I, the interval began with the curtain still raised and the chorus asleep on stage, where they remained for the entire interval! But JWW came through and magically caused Sir Marmaduke, Lady Sangazure, Dr. Daly, and the Notary to sleepwalk home, anticipating the bit in Act II.

I kept describing the show to myself as "realistic". Sorcerer is one of those shows which invites directors to make each chorister an individual. Tonight, each chorister was an individual with depth, a rich personal history, a set of goals and interests -- in short, a person. The chorus scenes were busy with movement, but only rarely ("Oh love, true love" comes to mind) in a distracting sort of way. It wasn't at all like the "background" movements of the Cape Town Pirates; it was like the backgrounds we actually see when we are in public. People entered, exited, talked quietly, and generally went about their business, while the focus remained on the various principals. That's a very difficult thing to do without upstaging, but it was largely successful tonight. Chorus sound was good, if not outstanding. Musical precision was very good.

They used backstage singers for the incantation, and later for the Ahrimanes scene, which I'll talk about presently. Unfortunately, the amplification they used for them caused a distracting buzzing to persist through the scenes.

I have to describe one bit of business. A group of children were onstage during the "act and deed" scene, and each held a sign. After they'd signed the contract, the kids all raised their signs. Each had a letter, and strung together it read:

Alexis LUNATIC Aline

They were quickly told they'd got it wrong, so they reshuffled to spell:

Aline IS A TART Alexis

Finally, on the third try, they got it right:

Alexis CONGRATULATIONS Aline

It was a delightful moment, and we applauded it.Sorcerer is not without its problems, which I remarked on in my review of the professional production. In particular, the pacing in Act I is just very, very slow as written. Tonight's production wasn't immune to that difficulty, and the re-insertion of Lady Sangazure's aria didn't help.

One thing that did help at least some was an engaging and interesting Dr. Daly. Stephen Godward was the best Dr. Daly I've ever seen. He was so gentle and kindly and fascinating. He was the kind of person I always feel an impulse to get to know better. I've seen this man three times now: tonight as Dr. Daly, a few nights ago as Arac, and last summer as Wilfred Shadbolt. I think he's absolutely one of the most talented performers I've ever seen in G&S. Especially impressive was his expert on-stage handling of a flagolet, where he actually played the appropriate lines during the "so-and-so" song. The quintet was a, possibly the, highlight of the show, thanks in no small part to Dr. Daly.

We had an older Constance tonight in Kathryn Fitchett. They cut the line giving her age as "nearly eighteen", and Constance tonight was clearly an adult. I understand the impulse to do this, because modern audiences understandably find unions between teenagers and mature adults -- especially religious leaders -- to be unsettling. But this change comes at a price. If Constance is seventeen, then her crying outbursts to her mother are just a teenager in love. If she is a spinster, then she just needs to grow up. An older Constance is much more difficult to make sympathetic than a younger one is. And if you don't have a sympathetic Constance, then it's hard to get the audience to care about the first two-thirds of Act I.

I also think that it's easy for Constance to fade away after her introduction. Gilbert doesn't help us out in this respect, but I know that in many productions, she's given prominent business in the Act I Finale to remind the audience of her interest in Dr. Daly. If this happened tonight, then it escaped my notice. As for the performance itself, I thought that her acting was fine and her voice was very good. She did have a bit of trouble keeping her lyrics straight, though.

Aline, like Constance, was older than one expects, but Joy Nicols (Psyche with Trent this year and Phoebe last year) gave a fine performance. I'm used to seeing her in more mezzoish roles, but she does have the range for Aline. I do think her voice is better suited for the lower ones, but she had no trouble with the music tonight. Her dialogue was good, and her facial expressions and stage presence were superb.

This production included a bit of spoken monologue I'd never heard before, from Aline, just before "Alexis, my loved one". She basically said exactly what she was about to sing, so I found that line to be pretty redundant. (Speaking of that scene, one other bit was weird. Alexis comes and interrupts her duet with Dr. Daly: "the philtre, you have tasted it?" Usually, I think, he's reacting to an empty vial nearby. But tonight, she drank on the balcony, where he never was. So what made him think she'd drunk it?)

Tony Luke's Alexis wasn't one bit likable. I'm pretty sure that means that Tony Luke did a good job with the role. We were not encouraged to side with Alexis tonight. He was dictatorial and clueless, and his sappy love scenes with Aline were the sappiest love scenes I've ever seen in anything ever. God, I hated that couple. Bravo. Gorgeous voice on this one, too. One of those sort of clear, effortless tenors. I'm not sure who would win in a fight between Tony Luke's eyebrows and Liam Goeoghegan's eyebrows. That would be a scary scene.

Sir Marmaduke was played by John Torr in a way I'm not used to. I usually expect to see a solid, serious Marmaduke, like Bruce Graham (or, for the Houston folk: like Ralph Katz). Tonight's was thin and expressive, and emphasized the comedy. It worked just fine, and "Welcome, joy" was great fun, as it should be. I did find a bit of the blocking on that piece odd, though -- during the long asides, the person not singing walked away and interacted with choristers. I know they're not supposed to hear the asides, but they are still talking to one another; isn't it rude to walk away in the middle of a conversation?

Lady Sangazure was played by Joan Self, who had been such a very, very funny Lady Blanche only a few nights earlier. She was also very funny tonight. Her asides in the Act I duet, and the entire Act II duet, were sexually charged in a way that I've never seen a Lady Sangazure before. It worked just fine, I thought.

Jonathan Godfrey's Notary was senile and happy and fun to watch. I guess he didn't quite have the bottom notes for the role, though -- "Dear friends, take pity" was transposed up by maybe about a third. (Can anyone confirm?)

And Simon Theobald had a solid command of John Wellington Wells. Nice use of magic tricks and great presence.

They added JWW's Ahrimanes scene, complete with three demons and an appearance, and solo, by Ahrimanes himself. John Wellington Wells summons Ahrimanes to ask him to undo the spell (repeatedly addressing him as his "master"), and Ahrimanes tells him that only if he or Alexis dies will he do so. This has the advantage of explaining that plot point at the end of the show. It also seriously changes the mood of the piece. We saw demons physically torture John Wellington Wells on stage, and we saw him collapse under pressure. There's no doubt, when Wells sacrifices himself, he is voluntarily going to hell. I did think that this was approached surprisingly casually in the finale. It's actually quite extraordinary that he'd be willing to do that -- he's under no obligation to, after all. This is a major sacrifice, and the inclusion of that scene emphasizes that fact; I was sorry not to see it continued through to the end.

One thing that I missed completely in the professional production, I also missed at least to an extent here. There was very little emphasis placed on social order. It wasn't completely obvious, I thought, that everyone had been paired "wrong" in Act II -- there were no gross mismatches, except for those of the principals. I think that Sorcerer is more effective when it's obvious to the audience how things are supposed to be, and then that's not how it turns out. Class is the usual tool for doing this, and I thought that was missing tonight.

I think I missed two things tonight, because I was left with two mysteries. I'm seriously curious, so if anyone knows the answers, I'd like to hear them. (1) During JWW's song, he tosses Aline a bottle of philtre to examine. She slyly pockets it, and represents to Alexis that she doesn't know what happened to it. I don't believe that JWW ever asked for it back. Why did she do that, and what became of that vial? (2) There was a woman who delivered the mail in Act I. I noticed at the beginning of Act II that she was no where to be found. What happened to the mail delivery woman?

Tonight's show will be a contender for the championship, especially given David Turner's very glowing adjudication. I'd put it up there with Grand Duke and Iolanthe as the serious candidates. Personally, I'd rate Sorcerer behind Grand Duke, but it's really a matter of preference at this point. (I'm not putting Iolanthe in an order because I was in it.)

Continue fine I hope it may

2005-08-18T16:43:00.000+01:00

The weather today was the nicest it's ever been in the history of the universe. Beautiful, clear, and sunny, warm enough that we appreciate the just a bit of a cool breeze. It's glorious outside. Of course, there's no air conditioning around here, so when it's that nice outside, it tends to get rather uncomfortably warm inside. I'm very glad I don't have to sit up in the gallery tonight.

I had the morning off from Pirates rehearsal today, so I went to the "community sing" in the bandstand. Basically, it was open to whoever wanted to come sing -- there were probably two or three dozen people there, and we just sang a bunch of the big G&S choruses. Brian also asked me to do the Major-General Song. Just a nice, casual time.

We rehearsed this afternoon, and finally got to start working Justin into his scenes. (The "his scenes" there is ironic; Frederic is on-stage almost the entire show.) He's picking things up remarkably quickly, which is of course exactly what he needs to be doing. I got to see some parts of the show I hadn't seen yet -- notably the opening, up through the Pirate King song. It's going to be fun. Our principal line-up is strong, and there's plenty of action and enthusiasm on stage. Gareth Edwards's Samuel is especially fresh and fun.

We've pretty much blocked the whole show now, I think. We're feeling confident that we'll be ready with our product on time, without too much last-minute panic. Of course there will be some -- we have only limited time to work with costumes, props, and the theater. But right now, our biggest problem seems to be that no one is coming to see the show! Last I heard, we'd sold fewer than 200 tickets, which is really quite dismal. We're hoping things will pick up soon. It's no fun at all to play to an empty house.

Tonight is Derby's Sorcerer. Derby is another company with a tradition of excellence, and they're pretty much always serious contenders for major festival awards. We should be in for a treat. Much of the cast performed in the Trent Ida just a few nights ago -- that's awesome.

Foot should stamp

2005-08-18T01:32:00.000+01:00

I was released from rehearsal a bit early today, at about 4:00. Lacking any brilliant ideas of something else to do, I decided to take a nap before the show. I figured I might as well give my body every chance to make sure it's in top form. I sort of half-slept, and I correspondingly half-had dreams. It was nice. Then I got up and had a quick dinner, and headed down to see the Festival Pinafore.

Before the show, as we were waiting outside, and Australian gentleman who has some experience with patter roles gave me some tips based on what he'd seen from me in the pot luck Patience. He said that when I did Bunthorne, I focused too much on syllables, and not enough on words, and that this had caused an unnatural feel to enter my voice. This resonated with me, having echoing some things my voice teacher told me last year. I think it's time for me to re-think the Major-General song. Lots of work to be done...

I really enjoyed Pinafore quite a lot. I realized, as it started, that I'd never seen a traditional Pinafore before, so this was a neat experience for me. I understand that this is pretty much as traditional as they come; that if I'd seen the D'Oyly Carte Pinafore, the business wouldn't be much different. I had the advantage over the audience, then, of finding so many of the jokes and business fresh and new. This was Alistair Donkin's production, which we'll be doing in Houston next summer. (I say "we" -- I don't know whether I'll be there or not, we'll see.)

Pinafore does have an exceptionally long musical introduction to the opening number, and Alistair used it well, introducing the main characters and the central love interest: we met Ralph, Josephine, Captain Corcoron, and Buttercup long before any of them had an official entrance. This helped to set the stage, and also to keep the long introduction from being boring. I do think it caused one minor problem, though -- the Captain enters during that musical bit, then goes into his cabin. Later in Act I, the Boatswain announces that the Captain has "come on deck", and he enters from above.

I really enjoyed the opening chorus. The men were lively and the movement was exciting and fun. The music was very strong, too. There was a bit of distraction, though, musically, when at least a couple of them men decided not to sing the pick-up notes: "and our (saucy ship's a beauty)," "and at-(tentive to our duty)," etc. Rather, they half-shouted them in a much higher pitch, which stuck out from the music.

I really liked the involvement of the men's chorus on stage throughout the first act. It was exciting to watch them move around the stage. Also good vocal responses to the action, in the form of sailor-like grunts. It was exciting and believable.

Alison Davies gave a strong performance as Buttercup over the night, but she had to overcome a mistake in her very first line, which is a bad place to make a mistake in Buxton. "Hail, man-o-war's-men, safeguard of your nation..." We forgave her quickly, though, when she gave an engaging and interesting "I'm called Little Buttercup." It's so easy for that song to be long and boring. She continued to be pleasant and interesting throughout the show, and her duet with Captain Corcoron in Act II was especially good. She used a set of divining cards, though, which I ended up being terribly curious about. What kinds of cards were they? What was on them? I was sorry not to see the business with them develop into something more interesting. I have a sort of recreational interest in tarot. (This surprises many people who know me. Email me for fascinating conversation.)

Jonathan Godfrey's Dick Deadeye was suitably grotesque. He really looked and acted the part exactly. His voice was clear and had just the right amount of character, but I sometimes lost him from my balcony seat when he had to sing over the full chorus, as in the "you must submit" bit in the Act I Finale.

Justin Freind, my Australian Young Ambassador colleague, was a fine Ralph Rackstraw, with a clear and expressive voice. He now has three days to be ready to go as Frederic in our production! The rest of the company really gave him a chance to build a lot of tension in the Act I finale before "Hold, stay your hand". It was a very effective and exciting (and nervous!) moment.

I've heard lots about Adam Hempkin, and I've gotten to chat with him just briefly, but tonight was my first chance to actually see him on stage as the Boatswain. He didn't disappoint. He was energetic and enthusiastic and interesting, and he was a great team player, and a great listener, and he really made the most of his moments.

Paul Lazell's Captain Corcoron had a fine voice and strong stage presence, but he was plagued by difficulty keeping his words straight the whole night. He fairly often paraphrased or borrowed lines from other points in the show; I felt as though he was having trouble concentrating. The worst offense of the night was singing Sir Joseph's words during his verse of the Bell Trio, but there were quite a few other smaller things throughout (including dropping the fairly-important "hardly ever, Sir Joseph). I did appreciate his acting, and his scenes with Josephine were excellent. Top marks for delivery of dialogue.

There really were some paraphrasing problems throughout, with a number of the cast. "That was the idea I MEANT to convey, officially." "But [] I'd rather!" etc.

Eloise Adams was attractive and engaging as Josephine, and her voice was clear and pleasant and effortless and easy to listen to. I do think that Josephine was just a bit high for her (as the terribly difficult Captain was for Paul Lazell). But I thought her interaction with Ralph was very good, and I loved the conflict I saw in her in that scene, and in her song in Act II.

David Kaye gave great presence and personality to Sir Joseph, and he sang very well. "When I was a lad" was superb, but he had to live every patter-man's nightmare when he got confused around verse five. All of our hearts went out to him. He made up for it, though, with a very strong performance the rest of the night.

I've remarked before that I almost always find multiple encores to be excessive. Thankfully, we've been spared from those by most of the productions at the festival this year. (The only production I can think of with lots of encores was the Della Luna Pinafore Bell Trio, which I liked.) Tonight we had five encores to the Bell Trio -- that's five on top of the first time through. That's really quite a lot. They were cute, and the business kept escalating, and the audience seemed to absolutely adore it, so it's hard to count them as anything but a big hit, but I personally became a bit anxious for the scene to go on.

A favorite bit of business: during the second encore, Sir Joseph caught hold of the ship's steering wheel to steady himself, thus turning it rather emphatically. Captain Corcoron lunged downstage in response, apparently suggesting that the ship had taken a sharp starboard turn. But Josephine kept singing, standing straight up, with no balance difficulties.

A couple more bits of action on stage I didn't quite understand: Sir Joseph entered *before* the "damme" business. So he hears Captain Corcoron utter that word of evil sense, be he also, presumably, would have heard the reference to "seeking your captain's child in marriage." Things are cleaner, I think, if Joseph enters either just before "damme", or just after, having been brought in by it, or hearing the retelling of it by Hebe and the chorus.

I also think that I just failed to understand a bit of business. Sir Joseph gave Ralph something after he sent Captain Corcoron away. He looked on his person for it, then asked Hebe for it, who produced something small from her purse-like thing. Then he gave it to Ralph, and as far as I can tell, it was never referenced again. I have no idea what it was.

On the whole, though, I had a really fine time tonight. I have to admit, Pinafore has never been a favorite. But it was both educational and entertaining to see a traditional production, and I can see why it's so popular, and why the crowd so loved it tonight. I call this one of the best four or five shows I've seen at the Festival, and easily the best very traditional production.

Why does father leave his rest

2005-08-17T16:23:00.000+01:00

I guess maybe I ate something disagreeable or something yesterday. I woke up this morning before my alarm clock, feeling just great. I didn't feel *quite* great enough to make "Sighing softly" music rehearsal first thing in the morning a good idea, but once I got myself warmed up, my voice cooperated with me too. I didn't think I was getting sick, but it's still a relief now to be pretty sure that I wasn't.

Fun rehearsal today. We worked music and blocked most of the second half of Act II, from after "Leave me not to pine" to the police, "Cat-like tread", and through most of the finale. There's a lot of fun in our production -- the police are going to be a big hit.

Tonight: the Festival Pinafore. I haven't seen a traditional Pinafore in quite a long time, so I'm looking forward to that.

I'm told that I might or might not be participating in a public singing event tomorrow morning. I guess I'll figure it out tonight. Hopefully.

That veils my eyes!

2005-08-17T00:24:00.000+01:00

I took a longish walk over a rather difficult terrain with Amy this morning. We visited Solomon's temple and enjoyed the nice day. I had rehearsal in the afternoon, where we reviewed the end of Act I with Andrew (who is really great to work with), then I met up with Amy and Debbie again for more recreational round-piano G&Sing. We did most of The Gondoliers, and it was good. I got to sing all the men. We even acquired a little bit of an audience!

I had dinner with Diana and Amy and Debbie, and then we went to see the evening's show.

We'd been hearing stories all week about the Cape Town G&S Society, who, thanks to the BA labor disputes, had their travel plans to Buxton severely impinged upon. I'm told that many of them had to spend upwards of forty hours traveling between various airports and bus terminals to get here on time, and the last wave of them didn't get into town until late last night. And most of them have to leave tomorrow! It's an affecting tale, and quite, quite true. It's hard to imagine worse performing circumstances. We were all very proud of the job they did with their Pirates at the Opera House tonight.

It was a very non-traditional production, set in the 1920s. It was brimming over with energy and excitement. That society had endured hell to get to Buxton, and you'd better believe they were resolved to enjoy it! They were not at all embarrassed to change either Gilbert or Sullivan as it suited them; occasionally this was fun and effective -- more often, I thought, I wasn't sure what the point was. An example: they re-wrote Ruth's song, in a way that basically paraphrased what was originally there. But they gave the first verse to Frederic, and added Samuel and the King on for a bit of chorus refrain. I'm not against changing these shows, but I think there has to be a reason, and here I just didn't get it.

The re-written version, also, didn't quite keep Gilbert's superb rhyme scheme. Instead of "A nursery maid is not afraid," we had "As nursery maid she was employed." Likewise with the entirely new Major-General Song -- none of the non-Gilbert rhymes were three-syllable rhymes; most were only one-syllable rhymes, and some were only close to that.

And I can hum a tune of which I've heard afore the music's din
(bothered for rhyme)
And whistle all the notes from that infernal song the "Charleston"!

If he's only going to rhyme the one syllable, it can't be THAT hard to think something up! (The dance interlude that followed was cute.)

Speaking of the Major-General, though, I was rather impressed with his voice and diction. Although I didn't care for his new song, he delivered it extremely well, and he sang the role very finely. The music as a whole, in fact, was excellent.

Samuel was wonderful, I thought. He looked the part, and he had a great voice. Three cheers for Samuel. The Pirate King was a very memorable one. He was played very gay, to the point of adding a first, lusty, line: "Samuel, come here you very fine fellow!" This was amusing for those in the audience who find caricatures of gay stereotypes funny, but it did not develop at all in the show. Indeed, he seemed to lose his gay mannerisms throughout. Eventually, he seemed to be happily paired with Edith. He had a strong voice and a very commanding presence. I'd like to see him do a traditional Pirate King. He did lose his wonderful harmony line in "Away, away".

(Pet peeve: why does everyone sing the rhythm wrong in "although our dark career"? I really do think that I hear it correct in performance less than 20% of the time. It's not that complicated.)

Frederic was clear and expressive and likable. I did sometimes have trouble hearing him over the other voices and the orchestra, though. Mabel was also likable on stage, and her singing was accurate. She sang with a very fast vibrato that reminded me of Snow White.

During the full chorus action scenes, there was a LOT of action on stage. I found it quite confusing to follow it all at those moments, actually, and it was difficult to figure out where the action was meant to be focused. Not only is this disconcerting, it can make the story hard to follow. An couple of examples: during "with base deceit" in Act II, the pirates and maidens are emphatically struggling with one another complicating the whole stage. I'd lost track of the Major-General, and I spent most of that scene trying to find him on stage. I never did, until he was brought forward by a Pirate. He'd been in the back, in a much less colorful outfit than everyone else's, and with all the busyness I couldn't find him.

Another example: during the (very much extended) fight scene between the police and pirates, there was so much action everywhere that my eyes didn't know where to look, and so I missed the gag at the end. I think the King defeated the Sergeant in some humorous way, but I have no idea what it was because I was too busy scanning the entire stage to try to figure out where I should be looking.

One of the most impressive bits of staging, though, came from these very chaotic scenes. Mabel put a stop to one of the most chaotic bits of all, when the pirates first seize the maidens in Act I. On "Hold, monsters" everyone froze in their very disparate positions. Nice effect.

It was an outstanding chorus. My complaints about it have only to do with its management. There was just so much going on so much of the time. The stage sometimes felt like a "Where's Waldo" book. The music was quite good, too. "Hail, Poetry" was excellent.

There was some evidence of less-than-perfect concentration -- quite understandable, under the circumstances! Two or three times, principals stepped on one another's lines, and there was quite a bit of paraphrasing going on. (I can't speculate whether the paraphrasing was sloppy learning or a lapse of concentration.)

They added some clever gags, but they almost never waited for the applause or laughter to die down before continuing; this resulted in quite a fair amount of lost music and dialogue.

"Stop, ladies, pray!"
"A man!"
(a woman faints)
(laughter)
(Frederic's mouth moving)
(laughter dies down)
"...in this effective but alarming costume!"

This was a common sort of pattern tonight.

The best moments of the show were the classic favorites in Act II: "When the foeman bears his steel", "Though in body and in mind", and "With cat-like tread". The policemen had innovating and interesting choreography and moved and worked well together, and the pirates were appropriately threatening and funny. These scenes were actually rather traditional.

They used the New York ending, with a reprise of the Major-General song, at a faster tempo than one usually hears this reprise. It was sung very well by all the principals involved. The applause was emphatic and very extended, and rightly so. Welcome to Buxton, Cape Town. I'm sorry your journey was so terrible, but I hope your brief stay makes it worth it, and that you can come again in future years. I know a completely packed opera house -- what is that, about 850 people? -- who are glad you made it.

After the show I went to the cabaret, where the Young Ambassadors were singing a few non-G&S pieces. I sang "If I can't love her" from Beauty & the Beast, but I'm afraid it didn't really go as well as I might've liked. My body was mad at me for making it sit up there in the balcony all night where there are no backs to the chairs, and it's very hot and stuffy. I wasn't feeling well, so shortly after I sang I headed home for a relatively early night. I said goodbye to Amy and Debbie, as they leave town tomorrow morning. Sadness! But then, I'm really not here all that much longer myself. Less than a week left, now. My best friend from home, Emily, will be here in a few days -- she's visiting her sister in London, and is going to come see the professional Ruddigore with me, and then see me in Pirates, so that's awesome and exciting.

Tomorrow: lots of rehearsing.

And are sacred consequently

2005-08-16T01:55:00.000+01:00

I was in Pirates rehearsal pretty much all day today. We reviewed the Major-General's entrance, and blocked the Act I Finale, and we also did the "When the foeman" scene in Act II. It's a fun and enthusiastic group. We have a really nice small group of policemen, who are going to be very effective. Of course I love working with and playing off of John, and the girls are very strong, too.

Our Mabel is sick! Wish her health.

And our Frederic is busy with another show, so we won't get him for a couple more days. He'll be good, though.

It's been quite a long time since I've attempted an older character; I find myself repeatedly playing young men, both in G&S and otherwise. But I think I'm starting to become comfortable with Major-General Stanley. He's really not on stage all that much, so there are only a few scenes that I have to learn to make perfect.

I feel as if I have an advantage over some Major-Generals, in that I actually at least sort of know how to sing. It's one of the more musically challenging "patter roles", and some parts of it sit high for most baritones. I'm not just talking about "Sighing softly", either, although that's certainly part of it. Stanley sings with the tenors in some of the Act I Finale, and that's a pretty exposed (if quick) F on "it is, it is a glorious thing to be an orphan boy." I think I can do this.

Tonight's show was the Trent Princess Ida, directed by Andrew Nicklin, who is our music director for Pirates (we've seen only very little of him, obviously; that will change tomorrow). I had been especially excited to see Trent, as I know of their reputation, and I was very impressed by their Yeomen last year. I recognized most of tonight's principal cast from last year:

Hildebrand: Mike Tipler (Sergeant Meryll)
Hilarion: Nick Sales (Fairfax)
Cyril: Mark Pollard (Leonard Meryll)
Florian: Simon Theobald (Jack Point)
Arac: Stephen Godward (Shadbolt)
Psyche: Joy Nicol (Phoebe)
Melissa: Katrina McWilliams (Kate)

Andrew re-set Ida with a middle-eastern, Persian-esque theme. Gama's sons had a distinctly Mongolian flavor. I found it to be perfectly effective; the costumes and make-up were beautifully done, and it was not hard to imagine the ugly gender issues that are in the background of the plot of this show. I thought that on the whole it was an excellent production, with an outstanding cast of principals and sensible direction.

I did feel as though the production suffered a bit from under-rehearsal. With as much talent as there was on stage, it would have been well worthwhile to fix the trimmings on top: precision in blocking, ending consonants and cut-offs, etc. Ending consonants, actually, I thought were consistently only better than average. I noticed five or six spots where the company was not together. "Impart." "Mighty." "Eloquence." The worst offense was at the glorious end of the Act II Finale -- there was a wonderful sustaining sound for "defiance", punctuated by several different "s" sounds at the end of the word.

In many places, this was a production that took care of the little things, which I really appreciated. There's a reference to the new girls who joined the school yesterday -- during the opening chorus, some of the girls were given robes to put on. And Hilarion actually dropped an etui, which I'd at first thought was a mistake, until I remembered that Melissa is to discover it later. (I do think that might've been better dropped later on; it's hard to believe that none of them noticed it and picked it up during the time it lay on the ground with them still on stage.) "Are men" actually did stick in Blanche's throad. It's little things like that that will be noticed and counted at this festival, and it's silly people like me who notice and appreciate them, so bravo.

I did feel as if many of the tempi were slower than I'd've liked. Some of the dialogue felt a bit draggy, too, particularly in Act I. It was a long evening -- we finished more than three hours later than we started -- and a brisker pace would've been appreciated by many.

The dialogue of Princess Ida is written in iambic pentameter, so it's extra easy to spot slight changes. The little things count. Florian dropped the "too" in "Unless her highness is full six feet high/And wears mustachios too -- and smokes cigars..." Similarly, Gama added a "so": "Bravo! Your king deprives me of my head/That he and I may meet on equal terms."

Nick Sales was, of course, glorious as Hilarion, but he didn't get as much of a chance to shine as he did as Fairfax. "Whom thou has chained", though, was something really special. And he worked very well with Cyril and Florian. (I wondered why he didn't trade musical lines with Cyril, and take the higher ones; I think that tonight's Cyril might've been more comfortable with the Hilarion line.)

The three warrior brothers were active and bloodthirsty and interesting, and I generally enjoyed watching them. One slight disappointment, though, came when they expertly set up a mock fight, between the three of them, during the chorus bit: "they are men of might...". I do wish that had been better choreographed; it looked a little silly just touching weapons against one another: not much at all like an actual fight. The actual fight in Act III was much better.

Gama's character was close to perfect. A biting, hurtful wit, in an almost charming sort of way. On small bit I appreciated: "You've changed, too. You were a singularly attractive child." Many Gama's emphasize the "were" instead of the "child", but that doesn't make sense, because Hilarion's not a child any more.

Act II gave us a dramatic change in mood as we went inside the women's school. There was a cute diagram on a blackboard illustrating Ida's points about arithmetic and diplomacy, but I thought it a little odd that it was there before the speech even began. Psyche and Melissa were both excellent. Katrina McWilliams is a tiny, beautiful young soprano who gave a really engaged performance as Melissa. And Joy Nicols had an engaging manner and a really strong mezzo that was nice to hear.

And Joan Self's Lady Blanche was absolutely hilarious. It can be a boring one-joke character, in the hands of an inexpert performer. Tonight, it was a show-stealing, engaging, hilarious one-joke character. She had a great voice, too. All the principals did.

Deborah Norman's professional Ida was truly spectacular. She had amazing command of the stage, and a fantastic voice. "Minerva" was one of the best I've ever heard.

In general, and this is by no means any fault of Trent's, I was reminded tonight how disturbing a show Ida really is. The music is glorious, but much of the plot, and the attitudes of various characters -- all of them, really -- appall me just a little bit. Now's not the time to write about that, though.

I always focus more on suggestions and things that I notice that I don't love, because, well, it's easier to be negatively critical. But the careful reader will notice how much more specific, more minute, each of my complaints is for this show than for most. That's because this show was generally excellent, and so these smaller things were the ones that were, in my opinion, less than perfect. I thought that this was one of the best three or four shows I've seen so far at the Festival. I'd put this with Blue Hill's Grand Duke and Savoynet's Iolanthe as the best shows so far. It gets very hard to rank them more specifically than that, and it all depends on which elements are more and less important.

Trent's a great group, and I admire them a lot, and I really enjoyed their Ida tonight. Well done.

I'm very tired, so now bed.

He answers to our call!

2005-08-15T00:32:00.000+01:00

David Turner said something that really resonated with me in his adjudication of tonight's Ruddigore. He said that he'd been reminded of an old hymn, the chorus of which includes the advice: trust and obey. And he said that this is important for how actors should treat their directors. And he's right.

David praised tonight's cast for trusting and obeying the director and seeing her vision through. As I indicated, I didn't really 'get' that vision, but it was indeed clear to me that the actors were on board with it, and David's right; that's just what they need to do. The rest is her job.

My director in Pirates looks at G&S very differently from the way that I do, and her productions are very, very different from the way that I would direct them. Tonight I was reminded that I need to put the way that I look at G&S, and the way that I would direct, behind me, and approach my job in this show as an actor, not as a G&S enthusiaist. This is something that I know how to do, but it's something that I needed a little reminder for. Thanks, David Turner. Trust and obey. I can do that.

Here is a flag that none dare defy!

2005-08-14T23:39:00.000+01:00

I saw the St. Mary's High School Ruddigore tonight. Apparently, they bring a show to Buxton fairly often, but they didn't bring one last year, so I'd never seen them before. Their shows are non-traditional and high-energy, with dozens and dozens of choristers. Tonight's was set in the early twentieth century, and was intended to be in the style of an old-time "talkie" film. I really don't know the genre at all, I'm sorry to say.

The performances by the young people really were exciting and good. All the voices were young and still developing, so it wasn't the vocal sound we'd want from an adult production, but it really was wonderful to see so many teenagers enjoying themselves on stage. And there really was quite a lot of talent among the principals. Savoynetter Liam Goegohegan, who is also in our chorus of Police, was a very good Robin. He sang all the right notes and had excellent diction and stage presence. And what a pair of eyebrows!

They included "Henceforth all the crimes" as a chorus piece, which I found odd. I didn't understand why Robin was singing about having promised to commit a whole bunch of terrible crimes at that point in the show, or why the ghosts were singing about how the title is uncommonly dear at the price. I wouldn't have minded seeing Liam do it as a solo, though.

Why did they pronounce "Ruthven" phonetically?

I was also impressed by a commanding performance by Ryan Govin as Despard. He really did have excellent facial expression, presence, and coming timing. The other standout was Rachael Blenkinship, who was a thoroughly engaging Rose Maybud. She really embodied the sort of over-the-top dramatic style that was characteristic of tonight's performance, and she easily commanded attention with her bearing and face.

They made a few cuts, mostly in dialogue. They removed all references to Hannah and Adam's ages, and to Hannah's status as Rose's aunt, and made no attempt at all to present them as older characters. They also, jarringly, replaced "maiden" with "gal" at every instance. It was jarring because they did not modernize the language in general (although I think that some actors did that unbidden).

One thing that I did notice and appreciate from this high school group was the attention they paid to Sullivan's harmonies. The voices weren't all strong, and they didn't get them all right, but they always, or at least almost always, tried. Often, with youth casts, they don't bother with things like alto lines. St. Mary's did, and the show really did improve for it. It sounded like they were singing Gilbert & Sullivan. In general, bravo to the music direction. One small bit that I wish had been addressed, though: "Pardon us or die" -- the "OR DIE" needs to be punctuated heavily -- a sudden shift in mood. I think that's even included explicitly by Sullivan. They sang that all in one line tonight. No inflection difference, and no acting difference either. That was a nuance that was missed.

There was a lot of dancing in this show. Some of it was the sort of movement to keep things interesting that I always expect to see -- much of it was a surprise. I'd never seen Robin and Rose's spoken dialogue seen choreographed before! I did feel as if I couldn't always understand the relationship between the dancing and the acting and the story. Why is this character dancing in this way?

I often felt confused by what was going on onstage, but left with the idea that if only I understood the in joke, everything would fall together in my mind into the brilliance that it was. The show was so purposeful that it couldn't have been careless, but there were so many decisions I just didn't understand. This might be because of my unfamiliarity with early twentieth-century movies. But to me, there seemed to be inconsistencies that jumped out at me. A few examples:

Robin vouches for Dick's character late in Act I. I couldn't tell whether he was being sincere, or trying to undermine Dick, and also whether Dick was pleased with the efforts or not. Eventually, Dick got violent, which sort of answered the second question, but it didn't seem consistent. It was confusing.
After being "outed" during the Act I Finale, Robin danced, apparently happily, with everyone else.
Rose sings "take me, I am thy love" to no one in particular, and both Richard and Despard rush in to take her. Despard gets there first, just in time to sing about how he doesn't want her!

There were more things like this, but I'm not remembering very well just now.

A favorite moment tonight: Dick Dauntless pulls out a small plastic duck with a Union Jack pattern on it and holds it over Rose Maybud. "Foiled! And by a union quack!"

Yes yes, I am a Major-General!

2005-08-14T23:34:00.000+01:00

I had my first Pirates rehearsal today. I don't have a whole lot to report about it, really. We blocked "Stay, we must not lose our senses" into my entrance and the dialogue scene leading up to the Act I Finale. We stopped just before the start of the music. Pam has us doing some cute things. It's an honor and privilege to work on stage with John Savournin.

The Major-General's song was the first patter song I ever learned, which means I learned it before I really learned how to patter. I have a few bad habits I've been trying to drum out of myself for some time now. They're almost all gone, I'm pleased to say. Now I just have to keep my hands from doing frivolous stupid gestures, and get my breathing under control. I've decided that this is a pretty easy role to be pretty good at, and a very tough role to be excellent at. (Contrast to: Bunthorne, which is really pretty easy to be pretty good, and rather easy to be very good. And: Jack Point, which is very hard to be pretty good, and also very hard to be excellent.)

Tomorrow we block the scene at the beginning of Act II in the morning, and the Act I Finale in the afternoon.

Hear me, hear me if you please!

2005-08-14T23:29:00.000+01:00

I hear through the grapevine that Houston Gilbert & Sullivan has officially decided on a Trial/Pinafore double-bill for next summer. They intend to have seperate casts, which means there are plenty of principal opportunities. None of them really suit me exactly, but I could be a respectable Boatswain or Usher, or possibly a Counsel. In my fantasies, I could be cast as Dick Deadeye, but I know that's just craziness.

I'm not sure whether I'll be back in Houston next summer or not, but if I am, I'll definitely audition.

Word on the street also has it that Ruddigore is very, very likely for 2007.

That's mad enough

2005-08-14T02:04:00.000+01:00

Nice day today.

I went to Ian Bradley's talk this morning about G&S in popular culture. He discussed a number of references to various elements of G&S shows, mostly in American media, including The Simpsons, Star Trek, and a bunch of soap operas. We spent some time speculating as to why G&S seems to be thriving more in the U.S. than it is in Britain. I have a theory on this matter, but I'm sure it'd be considered very controversial. I think that one contributing factor to the relative flourishing of G&S in the U.S. is the glut of stale G&S in England. If we're seeing the best of the G&S Societies in England in Buxton, then there's some really dull stuff out there. There's this attitude that if a pruduction can suffiently remind an audience of the D'Oyly Carte, then it's a good production. This just isn't the case, especially for audience members who don't know the DOC tradition, as the younger people necessarily are.

Don't get me wrong -- there's plenty of bad G&S in the states, too. But I think that there's very little stale G&S in the states; the bad G&S is still enthusiastic and fresh and new. Here in England, in some places, I wouldn't be surprised if young people saw old people get excited about stale DOC replicas, and used those experiences to form their G&S impressions.

Just a theory. Flame away, if you like.

After Ian's talk, I went to perform with the Young Ambassadors outside the local supermarket, in an attempt to drum up some local enthusiasm for the festival. I spoke with a few audience members after the fact; I think we may have accomplished our job. I sang Sir Joseph's entrance songs.

Then I met up with Amy and Debbie, who have become my standard Buxton buddies, and we had a bit of food, then saw Debbie to Pinafore rehearsal, where she was playing piano. Amy and I spent the afternoon exploring Buxton and visiting the Memorabilia Fair (only finding 1 of the 3 things were were looking for, between us, but also finding some neat prints for our respective walls), then we met up with Debbie again for dinner, where I finally got to have some excellent Indian food.

The Young Ambassadors sang again tonight, inside the opera house before the start of Sorcerer, so I got to get all dressed up for that. Happily, the heavy, heavy rain had slowed down some by that point. Then, having seen the show the previous night, I met Amy and Debbie again for an evening of one of my very favorite activities, which I don't get to do nearly enough lately. We collected a big pile of vocal scores and set them down on the piano, then proceeded to sing whatever we felt like singing, to Debbie's expert accompaniment. We spent some two hours with Patience, Pinafore, Sorcerer, Ida, and others. I was afforded a nice chance to sing some of the heavier bass-baritone stuff, which was a nice change from all the patter material I'd been doing. (I had to pay for it, though, by filling in the occasional tenor line.) Midway through our revelries, an elderly couple came in to sit and listen! They were a very good audience, and seemed to appreciate us.

New discovery of the night: I can sing Luiz! I'd always assumed he was too high for me, but he's not. I'm not sure I'd want to play Luiz, but the more principals I'm eligible for, the better my chances next time Gondoliers comes around.

Anyway, I had a really fine time singing. It was awesome to just sing for fun, without performing. I love performing, but this is an importantly different kind of joy. We're going to try to find time to do it again in the next few days. Then we headed over to the festival club, where we listened to a couple of cabarets and had a few drinks, then left. Then I came home and dealt with email and such, and wrote this blog entry. And now I'm going to bed. Tomorrow is my first Major-General rehearsal.

What is this strange confusion?

2005-08-13T02:29:00.000+01:00

I went to see Forducks Theater Co.'s double-bill of Gilbert plays today -- they did A Colossal Idea and Rosencrantz & Guildenstern. I really meant to do a proper review of each, but it's 1:40 in the morning now, and I have a Sorcerer still to review, and I've had three pints tonight, and I'm tired. So unfortunately, all I will say about these plays is that they were a lot of fun, and very enthusiastically produced. Fourducks is unabashedly modern and unconcerned with faithfulness to Gilbert's original intent, and they changed the endings to both shows, but I found it to be a nice bit of entertainment and a nice introduction to these plays. Sometime maybe I'll dig around on the archive and try to produce something.

I went to see the G&S Opera Company production of The Sorcerer tonight. I love seeing these professional productions -- the festival just brings in an expert team to the festival, and they rehearse on the spot, then perform. Last year's Ruddigore was absolutely brilliant. Tonight's Sorcerer was very good. It's hard, I think, to put on a really engaging Sorcerer. Although it certainly has moments of real brilliance from Gilbert and especially Sullivan, I think that it is a weaker piece, as written. It takes a brilliant, innovative company to make an excellent, engaging Sorcerer; tonight's was merely very good. It seemed to rely on the oodles of talent present on stage. That goes a long way, but it goes less far for a Sorcerer than it would for a Pirates or a Ruddigore.

One general thing I found surprising was the absence of any emphasis at all on social class. The Sorcerers I know make this a central thematic point; the one tonight ignored it completely. I think that's unfortunate because, well, there's just not enough there to take away big pieces like that.

The show opened with a very lively (sometimes maybe distractingly lively) chorus. It's always refreshing to see a professional company, where the chorus moves in precision, is consistently engaged, and has a strong sound. A beautiful chorus, really. There was some odd business with moving trees that changed the shape of the set. I didn't find them to be very effective; they were noisy to move on stage, and I could never quite understand why they were moving. The men and women were flirting heavily with one another. This didn't seem at all to be the village Dr. Daly describes in Act II, in which the youths are not enterprising and the maidens are distinctly coy.

Constance (Victoria Byron) and Mrs. Partlett (Gaynor Keeble) were both strong performers (though Constance seemed to have been made-up and costumed to look quite a bit older than "nearly eighteen"). They were sympathetic and believable, and I liked them both. I appreciated that Constance actually sang about her bitter joy with an unhappy expression on her face. Give me irony, contrasting the face with the words. "Oh joy oh joy." I've seen Constances smile brightly through that whole bit.

Donald Maxwell's Dr. Daly had a nice strong voice and good presence, but I found him somewhat dull. Dr. Daly is a tricky part; he's a gentle, kindly old man, but he has to be interesting, which usually means that the performer has to bring something special. He really needs, I think, to be a sympathetic character, but I don't know that the audience cared much about him one way or the other. There were also a few tiny line changes from him: "Time was when this old heart of mine would have throbbed," "which will be by then the middle distance," etc.

I wrote last year that I wasn't terribly impressed with Bruce Graham as Sir Despard. I've since seen him three times: as Captain Corcoron in the 'Scratch' Pinafore, as a guest soloist in the Edinburgh G&S Society concert, and tonight as Sir Marmaduke, and I think that he thoroughly deserves his reputation as one of the best G&S performers around. Very, very strong performance. Funny, in his understated way, and a great voice. His scene with Alexis was funny -- this was helped in no small part by Oliver White's earnestly sappy love-sick Alexis. He was great for the part throughout; I loved how seriously he took himself and his stupid ideas. Yes, Alexis is a cad, but he has to have likable traits and strong self-confidence, or else it will be a mystery why anyone ever listens to him.

Chlöe Wright gave a vocally strong Aline. Hers was a more subdued, submissive interpretation. Personally, I like my Alines a little more feisty and feminist, but that's just a matter of taste. Her voice was very good, although I thought it was unfortunate that she had to give her opening aria from the upstage rostrum; the acoustics are much better downstage. I thought she'd made a mistake when she sang "unmingled joy" before "beloved boy", but then the entire women's chorus did the same thing in the Act II Finale. Was this a musical direction decision? The vowel in "belOOOved" is much, much easier to sustain on a high note than that in "unmIIIIngled". Sir Marmaduke has a spoken version of that pattern earlier in the show; I didn't notice a corresponding version of the change there, but maybe there was one.

They included Lady Sangazure's song. I understand that Sullivan's music was lost (or never set?), so this was some new version. The lyrics were nice, but seemed somewhat out of place, and the tune was unremarkable. The show has so many pacing difficulties, why not add one more? I'm sure it's possible to produce a fantastic Sorcerer, but I haven't seen it yet. Her voice was very good, though, and I enjoyed her duet with Marmaduke.

It was, of course, no surprise that Simon Butteriss was excellent as John Wellington Wells. Someone remarked today something I'd only been tacitly aware of before: Simon has an outstanding command of the Victorian acting postures and movements. Look at pictures of the silly positions that George Grossmith configured himself into; Simon has all of those positions ready to go on command. Outstanding. He gave an impressive patter song, interspersed with an impressive number of magic tricks. I had to do a few things like that as Jack Point; it's not easy to sing and get the props in order and present the trick, all at the same time. A daring set-up, and brilliantly done.

A favorite moment from Simon tonight: during the Act II duet with Lady Sangazure, he swayed his hands from side to side as he described the "pure and simple smile" -- then he looked at his hands and saw that they looked like waves, which caused him to think up the next part of the story: "who waits for me by the sounding sea of a South Pacific isle." A clever, sensitive touch. I mentioned it to him at the cabaret tonight, and he said he'd just thought of it today! I told him I'd steal it the next time I get a chance to perform the song; he seemed flattered.

They used a version of the Act I Finale I'd never heard -- it included a reprise of the teapot brandisi. I rather liked it, and the company used that time to dance into the positions where they'd wake up, with the wrong partners. A nice effect.

The Act II finale was rather effectively staged, with one small but major exception. JWW asks the people to decide whether he should die, or Alexis. He's up center at the time, and Alexis is just slightly down right of him. Sir Marmaduke and Dr. Daly both sing, "die thou," without any accompanying body language to suggest which one they mean to die! Who are they talking to there?

And can I just say, what's with the weird plot issues in this show? I'm not talking about the sloppy rewriting, about the rules for the love potion, or not even the inexplicable one-way love in Act II. I'm talking about weird obvious things, like JWW suggesting four and a half gallon casks in the woods, then ignoring that talk and adding a small vial to a teapot. It just doesn't make sense. And Dr. Daly explains to Alexis the inner workings of the love philtre, and why Aline drank it, and how she happened to come across him, without any way to know these things. Gilbert, what are you doing?

In the end, I had a nice time at the theater, and was duly impressed, and I look forward to next week's Ruddigore There was lots and lots of talent was evident on stage tonight, but I think the show lacked that special something that's needed to really make a Sorcerer magical.

If you want to know who we are

2005-08-12T17:40:00.000+01:00

Here's the long-promised entry introducing the G&S Young Ambassadors. Eight young people who have been involved with the educational part of the G&S festival in the past were invited to be a small resident festival company this year. We perform throughout the festival, at cabarets, outside the opera house, inside the opera house, and around town (next week we're singing inside Pool's Cavern!). Most of us are also involved in principal roles in the Young Artistes Pirates next Sunday afternoon.

We are:

Holly Strawson, from Sheffield, England. Holly sings alto, and played Lady Jane to my Bunthorne last year. She's been involved in many festival youth productions, and just graduated with a degree in musical theater. I believe that she has professional aspirations in non-G&S singing.
Hollie Denton is also from Sheffield, and sings soprano. Hollie was Lady Ella last year, and has been in every festival youth production. She is studying nursing.
Joanne Vickers, mezzo, is another festival veteran. She won the Youth Award in 2003 for her Phoebe. She's studying primary school teching now.
Sharae Deckard is an American soprano from Pennsylvania, but she's living in England, working on a Ph.D. in English Literature. She's a veteran of the Oxford G&S group, and will be to familiar to some readers as a very good Laetitia in last year's very good festival Zoo. She's singing Mabel in our Pirates this year.
Gareth Edwards sings both baritone and tenor parts, and is another Youth festival veteran. He did Nanki-Poo in the festival youth production last year. He's studying trumpet and vocal performance. Gareth will be Samuel in our Pirates.
Justin Freind is an excellent tenor from Australia. He was our Duke last year in Patience, and also Carboy in the festival Zoo. He has a very impressive vocal carreer going in Perth, Australia, and he is also the President of the Western Australian G&S Society. He'll be Frederic in our Pirates, and also Ralph in the Festival Pinafore.
John Savornin is a longtime festival favorite. I think he averages three of four opera house productions a year, and he's one of the best performers I've ever gotten a chance to work with. He was Grosvenor in Patience last year, and will be the Pirate King next week. So far this year, I've seen him as Cox in Cox and Box and as Giuseppe in The Gondoliers. He's at the beginning of a very promising opera career.
And then there's me, Jonathan Ichikawa, the other bass/baritone. I've fallen into a sort of specialization in patter roles with this group. I'm the other American, and I perform as much G&S as I can, in between work on my Ph.D. in philosophy at Brown University. I was Bunthorne last year, and I'll be the Major-General this year.

So, we're the Young Ambassadors. We've been pretty well-received by the festival so far this year, and I know that the powers that be have bigger plans in store for the group, which is pretty exciting. I hope that I can continue to be involved in future years.

To ask you what you mean to do we puntually appear

2005-08-12T01:11:00.000+01:00

Tonight was another Mikado. South Anglia Savoy Players. This was, in most measurable respects, a very good show. The principals were all strong, and the chorus singing was good, and there was lively energy present on stage. Nevertheless, something managed to feel uninspired about it, to me. Instead of making a bit of theater, I felt as if South Anglia showed us a production of The Mikado. I don't know if that makes sense or not; I'm having a hard time articulating how I felt about this production. Let me jump into some specifics.

The opening chorus was very strong. Vocally, it was one of the two or three best choruses I've seen here, and the blocking and fan work was well-rehearsed. One odd confusion came at the end of the first song in the chorus reactions to Nanki-Poo: "Gentlemen, I pray you tell me where a gentle maiden dwelleth named Yum-Yum," (all sigh happily) "the ward of Ko-Ko!" (all react with disappointment). I don't really know at all what the chorus was up to there. They all knew that Yum-Yum was Ko-Ko's ward already, right?

Nanki-Poo was solid. His comic acting was good and his voice was clear and powerful. Very good for an amateur tenor. I really enjoyed the Pish-Tush. He delivered his dialogue extremely quickly, but he was quite understandable, and his acting was interesting and his voice was very solid. He had command of the stage during his moments.

Pooh-Bah was a nice understated actor, which is rare and good in a Pooh-Bah. It really was very effective, though. I'd never heard his globule lines delivered so matter-of-factly and yet effectively before. He definitely wouldn't pass for a haughty youth, but I thought he made a fine Pooh-Bah. His peacock tail fan was a nice touch.

Ko-Ko looked the part exactly; he was several inches shorter than the other men, and seemed to be a simple confused little man. Rather effective for the role. His voice was simple and sincere. He had a new "Little list" song, which I thought was ok. It didn't keep the entire rhyme scheme -- we had something about someone "across the channel who looks down on British food," where the "food" should've rhymed with "list". It was a clever re-write, on the whole, though. There was a nice mention of the festival adjudicator. The song also involved a confusing bit of business -- he was looking at the back of his fan, and I didn't understand why. Was his fan supposed to BE the list? At first, I thought the actor was cheating, having written the lines there, but I saw both sides of the fan, and there was nothing like that. I think it was just a piece of business that didn't quite make it through to my comprehension.

Ko-Ko was guilty of a medium amount of paraphrasing tonight. He does have a lot of lines, but still. Oh, and a pet peeve: "I can't think of anything more distressing than to have one's marriage called off at the last moment." Give me the bitterness! Make that line about you in Act I!

Most of the little things were well attended to, but some needed work. "But my bride and her sisters approach." (offstage giggle). Those need to be in the opposite order, so he has some way to know they're approaching. A similar little thing occurred in the Act I Finale, when Katisha sang "the sun of your!", then waited a beat for the chorus to interrupt her.

The women's chorus, like the men's, was musically excellent. They had a really nice coordinated set of kimonos, too; their ending pose had their sleeves lined up together, forming one picture, of which each girl had a frame in her costume. They weren't all quite straight on the night, but we got the idea. Very pretty, very pretty.

Yum-Yum, Pitti-Sing, and Peep-Bo were a perfect matching set. They were all practically the same height, and worked very well together. Yum-Yum, I thought, was very good. She had a beatifully expressive face with mischeivous mouth and eyes, and her voice was clear and solid. Her dialogue was sensitive and humorous and genuine.

The act I "big black block" trio was surprisingly busy with fan work. I think I prefer less syncronized movement there; it would have been amazing and impressive had it been 100% perfect, but it wasn't. It was fairly close, but with a song that fast and vocally interesting, anything less than perfect precision outside the body is a distraction.

Act II began very prettily -- David Turner was right when he said the girls were arragned well. But I found Pitti-Sing's solo very odd. (I've only just thought of this; I wonder if this is a widespread problem.) Pitti-Sing sings her wedding advice to Yum-Yum, but tonight, neither one looked at the other, or at all acknowledged that there was a line of communication open between them. Pitti-Sing left Yum-Yum for center stage and sang to the festival adjudicator; Yum-Yum continued to study herself in the mirror.

An interesting decision: Pitti-Sing and Peep-Bo were left on stage for "The sun whose rays". I can't really comment on how effective that was, because I couldn't really see them; I was in a box on the left, and they were stage right. I did, however, see Yum-Yum, who delivered a beautiful solo. I thought her "sun" fan was cheesy and cartoony-looking, though. The moon side was much better. I rather like the way we did it in Houston: the "sun" side was solid gold, and the "moon" side was solid sliver. They were accompanied by a change in lighting.

Here's a question I've been meaning to ask for a while: how come all Peep-Bo's punch the BUT in "she is indeed to be envied who has attained happiness in all BUT perfection." It's a perfectly natural sort of thing to say without emphasizing the 'but', and thus without being mean; I think it's in character for Yum-Yum to be the one to draw attention to that word.

The madrigal was very nice tonight.

There was a cute bit of business when Ko-Ko bribed Pooh-Bah to lie about the execution; he gave him a trick money bag, which he then zipped back out of Pooh-Bah's hand. But why does Pooh-Bah continue to cooperate? What Ko-Ko has asked him to do, he hasn't yet done. I think the gag would've worked better if Pooh-Bah had signed an affidaivet on the spot.

The Mikado was different. He delivered his dialogue and most of his music in a very nasal voice. It took a bit of getting used to, but what I was there, it was brilliant. He was terrifying and sadistic and funny, and had a couple of the best and most active eyes I've ever seen on stage. And what a scary laugh! A shame the chorus didn't have any response to it, though.

I thought that the Ko-Ko the other night just dropped the "cock-and-a-bull" part of his line about Pitti-Sing, but tonight's Ko-Ko did just the same thing. That line IS in there, right? Is it not in some scores? Is it a bastard American addition? What's going on?

I was impressed with Katisha tonight. A strong voice, and a strong presense. One little touch I enjoyed, and hadn't seen before, was a more ambivalent reaction to Ko-Ko's initial attempts at wooing. It makes them more believable in the end. I found it distracting, though, when she spent the entire finale chasing Ko-Ko through the chorus (and likewise, of couse, when Ko-Ko spent the entire finale running away from Katisha. Where does he think he's going?)

I recognized a number of elements from Alistair's version of The Mikado -- far too many for them to be coincidence. I wonder whether tonight's elements were taken or derived from Alistair, or whether they both came from a common source in the D'Oyly Carte. I've never seen the DOC, of course, so I can only guess. (EDIT Aug. 18: It's now clear to me that it's the latter possibility: both this Derek Collins production and the Alistair Donkin productions I know were influenced heavily by the D'Oyly Carte.) But here are a few of the things I noticed tonight that I knew from Alistair productions:

Ko-Ko lies on the ground to talk to Nanki-Poo: "not a bit, my boy, why I love her myself!"
Ko-Ko invites Pish-Tush, and Pooh-Bah to take a seat, then puts on a silly pair of glasses before reading the letter from the Mikado.
Ko-Ko mimes fireworks in his conversation with Nanki-Poo.
Pooh-Bah strikes Ko-Ko in the back, making him fall, interrupting the mock execution, in the introduction to the Act I Finale.
The cast begins with their hands in the air, then crosses them twice, ending with them down, on "O ni bikkuri shakkuri to".
Act II opens with Peep-Bo, Yum-Yum, and Pitti-Sing sitting in that order down stage right, putting make-up on Yum-Yum.
Pooh-Bah arrives, winded, to announce the coming of the Mikado.
Pooh-Bah, Pitti-Sing, and Ko-Ko, in that order, strike finishing poses with their fans pointing out of their faces toward stage left at the end of the Glee.
Katisha steps on Ko-Ko's hand during her long speech about how it's hard to find someone to love her.

There were lots of good things there tonight. I'm not sure exactly what was missing. I'd've liked to have seen more chorus movement and involvement. More innovation generally, I think. Mikado is a tough sell for the G&S veterans. You have to either be new and innovative and clever, or absolutely incredibly, mind-bogglingly outstanding. Tonight's show was very good and traditional.

Into it we throw cock who doesn't crow

2005-08-11T01:16:00.000+01:00

I was really excited to see Yeomen tonight. Yeomen is very special to me. I played Jack Point three months ago, and that really was the pinnacle of my theatrical life to date, and a highlight of my life, period. This means that I have a greater-than-average emotional investment in the show. It also means that it's more difficult for a production of Yeomen to satisfy me.

Everyone I've talked to thought that tonight's production of Yeomen, by Abbots Langley, was at least ok. It really didn't come close to satisfying me. I thought that the direction was very odd, and that many of the choices were ill-motivated. On the whole, I thought as if the production was insufficiently thought through, both by the actors and by the direction staff. Just a few general examples of odd choices:

During the "to thy fraternal care" part of the Act I Finale, the joke is that Wilfred is very thoroughly entrusting Phoebe to Fairfax. This sets up the Act II "with my connivance!" line. Tonight's blocking undermined that -- Wilfred repeatedly seperated Phoebe from Fairfax, while he was singing about how they should stay together every hour of the day.

During the scene leading up to "Alas, I waver to and fro", Phoebe went upstage to look into the Beauchamp Tower while Meryll was hatching his plan with Leonard. She gave no indication of having heard the secret conversation, but then jumped into the trio and the rest of the show, apparently knowing everything that she's supposed to know.

At the end of the Act I Finale, Elsie and Jack Point have a heated argument down stage right. Eventually, she breaks away from him and, for no apparent reason, goes up near the block, where she stands for some 5-10 seconds. Fairfax, apparently clairvoyantly ascertaining that she is about to faint, steps forward into position to catch her, then she falls into his arms.

There were a number of things like this, which I just found to be very strange indeed.

On to the principals. The Lietenant, I thought, was adequate. Richard Ogden had a command of the music, and a reasonably imposing figure, with decent stage presense. He was not perhaps the most imposing Lieutenant imaginable, but he got the job done.

Simon Hutson was charismatic and expressive as Fairfax, but I was left with the feeling that it wasn't a role that particularly suited him. A good Fairfax, I think, is heroic and suave; tonight's, I think, would've been better suited to a Nanki-Poo or a Dick Dauntless. He gave a solid performance, but I just wasn't sure about the interpretation. His playful mannerisms and boyish grin seemed unlikely for a war hero.

We had an update from the program; the Sergeant Meryll was announced before the show. I didn't catch his name, and I didn't hear whether he was a last-minute substitute or whether this had been known for some time, but Meryll tonight seemed to have a fairly solid command of the material. There were a few pitch difficulties, but he gave a solid performance. For some reason, "Rapture, rapture" was cut.

Russell Stratton was excellent as Leonard Meryll. He didn't have a lot to do, but he looked like a giant warrior, delivered his lines sensibly, and had a strong tenor voice.

Andrew Taylor's Wilfred Shadbolt, I thought, was the only person in the cast who consistently took command of his scenes and made the audience notice what he was up to. He was very funny. It took me a little while to warm up to him, as I tend to think of Shadbolt as scary and of Point as silly, but the great facial expressions and comic timing eventually won me over. I think that I would actually have liked to have seen him as Jack Point. A really solid performance from this one, though. It's a shame Shadbolt doesn't get to sing more, too, because he had a fine voice.

Phoebe, played by Emma Southorn, was the other stand-out of the cast. I say Shadbolt was the only one who consistently took command of his scenes, but not every character can appropriately do so; Pheobe is often called upon to play various supporting roles in the cast, and the part is not written to always be at the center. But tonight's Phoebe really did a marverlous job with the role. She had a strong voice and a good sense of music, and her acting was excellent. I did agree with David Turner, though, that one misses the spinning wheel. The music is so very suggestive of it.

Eve Rapley was an attractive Elsie with strong acting ability. But musically, she suffered from a textbook case of insufficient breath support. This caused projection problems, and pitch problems. Nothing really embarrassingly serious, but enough to notice.

Brenda Southorn's Dame Carruthers was well-sung, but she was not particularly imposing, either in dialogue or in stature. I also thought that it was unfortunate that nothing was made of her romantic interest in Sergeant Meryll until it's brought up in the libretto, mid-Act-II. There was a perfectly fine opportunity earlier, where they interacted, but they did nothing to establish the romance. It appears rather out of the blue in the "Strange Adventure" scene.

And now I have to talk about Jack Point. David Turner said he was very energetic and emotionally expressive. It's my opinion that Jack Point needs to be much, much more energetic and emotionally expressive than Graham Jackson was tonight. I was looking for the giant contrast between the performer and the heart-broken fool, and I felt rather as if I was getting vanilla all night. David Turner said he'd never seen bitterness in a Jack Point before. That can't be true, can it? Surely it's obvious to absolutely everyone that Jack Point is bitter at the beginning of Act II? I haven't seen many productions at all.

There were just so many things I was looking for in Jack Point. The ebb and flow of emotions, the regard for Elsie, the enthusiasm for telling his jokes, the reaction to Fairfax's offer to teach him how to woo, the reaction to the betrayal that follows -- I just felt as if there was very little there. Tonight's Point seemed to elect to go into a 'blank shock' state, which can work at points, but it wasn't enough to carry everything. I really couldn't tell how Jack Point felt most of the time.

During the busy Act II Finale, Point dropped his jester's hat unceremoniously, then wandered to the back of the set, where he jumped off the edge of the tower, into the river that flows behind the set. No one paid him any notice at all. What does Elsie feel about him? Fairfax? Anyone else? And why did he do it, anyway? Do we have any reason, before that point, to think that he cares about Elsie? The whole thing seemed rather random and ill-considered to me.

This is all just one man's opinion, of course, and in most measurable ways, this was one of the better shows I've seen at the Festival. It's just that I need so much more from a Yeomen to be happy.

My new ambition is to perform Jack Point at this festival. I must find a way.

Oh man of learning!

2005-08-10T16:50:00.000+01:00

Here is the full text of last night's Iolanthe adjudication, which I've just transcribed.

I remember going for a very important interview for a fairly important theatrical job, which I actually managed to get. But the first question they asked me, and they said what is your USP, well I didn't even know my RSVP at the time, but your USP is terribly important: it is your Unique Selling Point. And I wonder if we went round if we would come to lots and lots of Unique Selling Points tonight.

So many of the productions, and quite rightly too, in the festival have needed and had attack attack attack. Not tonight. Tonight we had an etherial atmosphere. It's just the opposite to what so many do, but It was just as arresting. There were no funny fairies. There were lots of delightful ones. Although not to be taken too seriously, they used the stage so well. How beautifully they were arranged. Anyone studying arranging a chorus it was a lesson tonight in how it should be done. Beautifully done (applause) It takes an age to do, but by golly was it worth it. I thought how beautifully handled was the raising of Iolanthe. An example of sensitive direction, and there was a lot of sensitivity tonight; there has to be with any production of Iolanthe.

The anticipation of the arrival of the peers is always high. And tonight I don't think any of you could have been disappointed. Precision, style, superior bearing, and vocally very impressive. They used their robes well, and they contributed all the time. But did you notice their exit, which was just as impressive? The last one left the stage as it went bong (here David impersonated the sound of the end of the music), and I thought that either somebody up there loves them or they've worked hard to get it right. You see it's typical of an audience, we wait for them all to come piling on, and we think well, well, but we don't look at the exit, and it's just as important and they really achieved it.

How that chorus both male and female worked tonight! The development of the Act I finale was very skillfully done. The set was interesting but it was not an easy set to work with. Arranging a company -- a big company -- on two levels is no small task and we must give credit for a lot of planning which was very much in evidence tonight. I wouldn't want to cope with those steps at all, and in a crinoline, no thank you!

Act II opened with a measure of stateliness and expectancy. Oh foolish fay was beautifully sung, but again a lovely lesson in how to arrange the chorus. The Tolloller/Mountararat/Chancellor trio was given a new slant tonight and very funny it was too.

A joyous finale. I always love, and they always do it, I love the flag waving. It's a lovely touch, it not only says where they come from, but it reminds us all we're part of one big huge family. Jolly good. (applause)

Musical direction: high praise for the interpretation of the development of both the principals and the chorus. But it was the chorus singing -- the full bodied singing of the chorus which was tonight so splendid.

The Strephon solo, which you may not have known and may never hear again, was removed from the original production, and I don't think it's because it's not a great song, I think it's just in the wrong place. You've got a great build-up and we need the humanity of Strephon to carry it though. It was cut shortly into the original run of Iolanthe and as far as I'm concerned it was a jolly good idea.

Lighting: best we've seen in the festival! (clapping) I don't know who did it, but the opening and the subtle cross fades, they were all helpful to the action. You thought it was their character growing, but it wasn't, the lights just went up a fraction. I once engaged quite a famous British film star to appear in a play for me, well it's no secret, it was Jean Kent, who was a very famous film star in the 40s and 50s. And in her contract, it said on Miss Kent's first entrance, the lighting is to be enhanced by two points and I thought what a strange thing, but of course it was crafty, everyone thought wow, and they all applauded because she lit up the stage, and that happened tonight, and jolly good it was too. There was lots of gentle enhancing of stage in intimate moments, and added strength to the stage action.

Costumes: a splendid wardrobe. Splendid. Delightful fairies. I almost expected the antennae to light up. Halfway through the festival you've got to start expecting these things.
Subtlety again. Iolanthe's weedy cloak with a trace of the pond still lingering. Clever use of materials, did you notice that Strephon and Phyllis's outfits? There was pieces of the material they both shared. It helps makes the characters -- it's not just a pretty frock or a nice suit, it is to help.

Props were good, wands, quills, ledgers, even the red box.

Let's look at the characters. First of all, The Lord Chancellor: Agile, mischievous, with a wonderful expressive face. Sometimes mystified, sometimes cheeky, sometimes up to no good, but always was fun to the forefront of any particular moment. Excellent diction, I thought the nightmare song was very well developed, it was done in such a way that the movement was never a distraction.

Mountararat: Arrogant and pompous. Some lovely sneers, a permanent smell under his nose. (laughter) I loved the way he looked down his nose at everybody, it was really scary. Vocally, of course, very secure. "Britain really ruled the waves" was a highlight. He was confident, too, because I'm pretty sure in the first verse he could not have seen the conductor, he was up there on his own but he pitched and kept going, it was very well done.

Tolloller: "Spurn not the nobly born" I thought he sung beautifully, and effortless, a nice sense of comedy. The permanent puzzled expression was very funny. There are some actors I know which have that permanently, it's cause they don't know the words. I trust this was not true tonight.

Private Willis: well he had everything on his side! The height, the vocal strength, the wicked mischief, and of course that aria tat the beginning which was so very effective.

Strephon: A strong Strephon. Nothing fay about this performance. Came on stage with purpose. Got the fun out of the situation and the warmth too. It's a quality voice. Every word is heard. His scenes with Phyllis were full of passion and their initial parting in the first act I thought it really had genuine emotion.

Queen of the Fairies: an unusually attractive Queen of the Fairies. I wouldn't have minded seeing her swing on that gossamer (laughter). I thought in the first act, she was almost one of the girls and because of that her approach to the dialogue was unusually warm, and it was rather nice to have that. her stateliness came in Act II and her vocal strength also.

"Oh foolish fay" was indeed a production highlight, and indeed her wicked mischief at the end was lovely to be part of.

Iolanthe, sometimes called I-ah-lanthe, but in the main Iolanthe, attractive and delicate. Great warmth, and I don't know whether you noticed the unspoken exchanges and looks between herself and Strephon this evening. They were not lost on me, tonight, and I thought they were beautiful. Her sincerity is genuine and the earnestness in that final aria, movingly developed.

Phyllis, so many changes in mood: delicate; innocent; strong; pert; frustrated; tough. You need an awfully lot of experience in an acting sense to be a good phyllis and we had a good phyllis. A strong secure voice and those love scenes with Strephon were delightful. She has a very expressive face, she has to watch though because in some of hte stronger sequences that P has where she's a bit of a minx, it needs to come mainly from the voice and not the face. If you're not careful, you end up thinking she's a shrew and you have great sympathy for Strephon. You just have to be very careful of the strength. But the rare moments of naivety which she had were beautifully developed.

I can't single out Celia, Leila and Fleta, except to say what a tremendous job all three of them did. They really worked they really contributed they were really part of the story and I thought they did a really great job.

Now before a performance I always list the various characters. Some people say I write my notes before hand, it's not true. (laugh) But I didn't list the usher and I didn't list the train bearer. But I had to add them because the work of the usher was so stylish, so important, and it added much to the production. And he in himself is a lesson in how to listen.

The train bearer, well not only did he look good, he was no mean dancer. I thought he was an old sweetheart, as well.

So far in this festival I've been very good and never commented on an audience. (laughter) But tonight I'm going to change that. You were the perfect audience. You began very badly. You sat on your hands, you didn't respond, and you know what actors say, "funny lot in tonight." And I thought well they are a funny lot, I thought it was lovely. I don't clap, I'm too busy. And I thought really, they're not giving anything. But you see, at the end, you would have torn the place apart, and quite rightly so.

Today I went to Diana's talk in the morning, then several of us went to her flat to watch the video, and I transcribed the adjudication. Tonight I get to see a Yeomen.

Dainty little fairies

2005-08-10T01:10:00.000+01:00

How did Iolanthe go?

Really damn well, that's how.

The fairies were delightful and adorable (I especially loved watching Debbie and Amy, who came in already as close friends, as Fleta and Leila) and together, and Charlotte was beautiful and sympathetic and powerful as Iolanthe, and Gary was healthy and strong as believable as Strephon, and Rebecca was attentive and sensitive and effective as Phyllis, and, well, it was really just a great cast, and it managed to put on a great show.

I get to reveal the show's secrets now!

So what was I doing in this show, anyway? I'm listed in the program as "Usher". In fact, I played the critical supernumerary role of the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod, and official in the House of Peers who does bit important official stuff like bang on the door with his black rod. Diana gave me a lot of fun business to do, and many chances to really make the most of a tiny role. I led on the March of the Peers, banging my rod three times on the ground to signify their entrance. (As I understand it, the Black Rod bangs three times in order to admit certain government officials into the legislative chambers.) I got to look important and snooty, and to do some spinning stunts with the rod during the Peer's chorus.

During the Lord Chancellor's speech about how tough it is to be to love his own ward, Diana gave me some actual lines:

LC: What is his position?
(I begin to look through large book containing all the laws.)
Can he give his own consent to his own marriage with his own Ward?
Me: (finding the answer) No.
LC: Can he marry his own Ward without his own consent?
Me: No.
LC: And if he marries his own Ward without his own consent, can he commit himself for contempt of his own Court?
Me: No.
LC: And if he commit himself for contempt of his own Court, can he appear by counsel before himself, to move for arrest of his own judgement?
Me: Yes.
LC: Yes!? (examines book) Ah, my lords, it is indeed painful...

I had similar business in his scene with Strephon; I informed the Chancellor that alas, no, he is not chancellor of birds and trees, king of the winds and prince of thunderclouds. There was plenty of opportunity for characterization and fun. In the act I Finale, Fleta put a spell on me to force me to write the new laws in the book. David Turner gave me some really nice comments -- he said that I "gave a lesson in listening". I wrote last week how glad I was to hear him praise Rebecca for her listening on stage, and how I thought it was a wonderful comment; it felt really, really good to be on the receiving end of such a remark tonight.

The other thing that we kept quiet about was "Oh Foolish Fay". We wrote new lyrics (maintaining the rhyme scheme!), and verse two ended up something like this (going from memory):

The passion grows
Inside my heart
To interpose
I play my part
With tenors from the D'Oyly Carte!
With tenors from the D'Oyly Carte!

Oh, D'Oyly Carte!
Type of a Phillip Potter!
Oh, Captain Shaw,
Thy troops withdraw
We have no need of water!

And all the fairies gestured to Phillip Potter's box seat, which was illuminated for the occasion. All of this was a surprise to him, of course. Brilliant.

David Turner, the adjudicator, LOVED the show. He really did rave about it in his adjudication. He went on and on about Diana's arrangements of the chorus, and about the lighting, and he had really kind things to say about all of us. I only remember two remarks that were at all negative: he thought that "Fold your flapping wings" is best left out of the show (but had nothing bad to say about Gary's performance of it) and he suggested to Rebecca that she keep negative emotions in her voice and out of her face. I'm really not exaggerating (although there's a chance I might be forgetting) -- I think those were the only two things he said that were less than glowing.

He also loved little George Miller, and how could one not? He was a superb Chancellor's train-bearer, and he learned Ron's dance steps and performed them with him.

All told, I call tonight a great success, and I'd be surprised if Savoynet doesn't make some noise at the awards ceremony.

In other news, I'm exhausted! I started rehearsing with S'net at about 10:00 this morning, and we had only a brief lunch break where we were able to leave the theater until after the show. I spent that lunch break rehearsing with the Young Ambassadors, because we were perfomring in the first cabaret tonight! So after the show, I changed as quickly as possible, and had to skip out on set clean-up, and went to sing in a few choruses, and to do Sir Joseph's opening solo, where I thankfully sang all six verses in the correct order. (I don't know whether my timing was right on the "Monarch of the sea" part. I never got a chance to look at a score!)

Tomorrow should be a quieter day. I'm going to Diana's talk in the morning, and I don't really know what I'm up to after that until the show in the evening.

Remarkably fine children!

2005-08-08T22:46:00.000+01:00

I'll keep this short and sweet.

I saw the youth Pirates tonight. It was the cutest thing in the history of the world. They had NINTY-FOUR children on stage! A great line:

And do you mean that you would deliberately rob me of these, the sixty-four remaining props of my old age...?

This was not a production of Pirates in the sense of the other shows I'm seeing at Buxton, and I won't attempt anything like a real review; how can you with that many beautiful and enthusiastic children? One misses the stronger vocal sound, but when you get a small boy dressed as a parrot sitting on the Pirate King's shoulder instead, it's a fair trade.

I will say, I was very impressed with the quality of the young principals. The Mabel, particularly, sang every note that Sullivan wrote. She and the Major-General, I thought, were the stand-outs in the excellent cast. And some of the chorus diction was very good. I think it's only about 50% of adult productions where the women's chorus sings about how they can't bear to see their father weep, instead of wee. This one got the p. (Hah!)

The youth program at Buxton is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

Iolanthe all day tomorrow. The show is at 7:30, England time.

Each to his accustomed place

2005-08-08T17:28:00.000+01:00

Gary seems to have fully recovered -- he was back in our rehearsal today in strong voice and spirits. So, happily, my substituting services will not be needed. I'm free to focus on my usher business, which I have the advantage of actually knowing. We did two full runs of the show, the second in costume. I feel as though we're ready to go tomorrow.

S'net friends, I'll give as thorough a report as I can just as soon as I get in tomorrow night after the cabaret.

Tonight: the youth Pirates!

Thou heav'n born maid

2005-08-08T01:49:00.000+01:00

Hail, Poetry count for Sunday, August 7: Zero!

Typical -- the day after I start counting them is the first day it doesn't come up at all.

Just as you were, only double

2005-08-08T01:48:00.000+01:00

Sale's Mikado was a really surreal experience for me. It was directed by Alistair Donkin, who directs the Houston G&S productions every summer; I've worked with him the past five years, and I performed in his Mikado at Buxton last year! Tonight's show used almost identical moves and blocking to our Houston production. I was able to sit up in my balcony seat and very successfully predict where and when each person would enter and how other characters would respond, which gags would occur when, etc. It really was the same production, right down to the moves of the fan drill, the flattening of Ko-Ko's hand, and the American Express bit. Occasionally, I turned to Amy, whom I was sitting with, and pointed out which chorister I'd been.

I've performed in five of Alistair's shows, but I've never seen one from the house. He really does have a knack for creating beautiful patterns of choristers on stage. It's very effective. But when choristers are asked to create beautiful patterns, those patterns aren't at all evident to the choristers themselves; they're told to move upstage and form such and such curve, but they can't see that particular reason. So they need to make their own reason, as actors, to go there. That's the challenge of this sort of big-picture-based blocking and choreography: to make it sensible at the level of the individual actor. It was impossible for me to help but compare this production to our Houston one, which was, at a gross scale, a near carbon-copy, but was really so very, very different. Sale, I think, did a less effective job that Houston did in being purposeful in their movements. There was a great deal of movement on stage that seemed to be nothing more than "this is where the director has told me to move next".

The chorus was much better than some of the shows I've seen here, thanks partially to their reasonably involved blocking, but without that sense of purpose, they did not seem to be to be as captivating or effective as the choruses for Grand Duke, Utopia, or Trial. They also seemed to be just a bit under-rehearsed; with the carefully-choreographed fan drill (and audience members who have done it before!) it's very obvious when someone puts his fan up at the wrong time or in the wrong position. Also, some of the little things were left un-attended-to: fan angles, the exact point at which they are lowered, etc. This is picky stuff, and no one would point it out as a mistake, but when it's exactly right, it can impress so much more.

We didn't get it exactly right in Houston, either, of course. This is a review, not a comparison.

That said, it's REALLY hard not to compare, because they were going through just the same moves I went through last year. I really did have to catch myself from singing along with the chorus; it FELT like it was my entrance! And, well, we had a very good show last year. We didn't win the International Championship, Best Chorus, Best Costumes, and a handful of individual awards for nothing! So I'm more likely than most to be under-impressed by this particular production.

I think that because so much of the action is big-picture driven, it relies heavily on the chorus to make it interesting; the blocking will force you to be active, but it won't force you to be interesting. You have to bring that to the table yourself. Sale struggled with that at times.

On to the principals. S'net colleague Peter Crichton was a fine Nanki-Poo. He had good presence and dialogue, and earnest acting. His voice is strong and clear, although I sometimes wished he sang through his phrases more, instead of interrupting the musical line with staccato singing. He worked well with Helen Feildsend as Yum-Yum, who had a good voice and good acting to match.

Janice Rendel's Pitti-Sing was cute and spunky. Jacquie Harries's Peep-Bo was less memorable. It's a tough role to make so, of course, but there are things that can be done, and there are things that Alistair means to do. I could see a tiny bit of the intended flirtation between Pish-Tush and Peep-Bo during the Act I trio, but the others who didn't already know it was there couldn't see it. With John and Megan in Houston, there was no doubt what was going on; I had to look for it.

Anthony Noden gave my favorite performance of the night as Pooh-Bah. His voice was strong and clear and his comic timing was good. My personal preference lies with a bit more vocal humor in the dialogue; tonight's delivery was more understated, but that's merely a matter of taste. He was a rather large man, allowing him to really revel in Alistair's physical comedy for Pooh-Bah.

I was less impressed with Julian Hatcher as Pish-Tush. Like a Peep-Bo, a Pish-Tush has a hard job taking command of his scenes and making himself memorable; tonight, I felt as if he was merely going through the motions. His voice was mostly on pitch, but it felt rather unfocused. I think that for him to develop more as a singer, he would do well to study with a voice teacher.

Ken Brook's Mikado was solid. His voice was strong and clear, and his acting was consistent and interesting. Lkewise, Robert Wardle was very in command of his performance of Ko-Ko, both as an actor and a singer. He did a little more mugging than I'd've liked, but considerably less than many Ko-Ko's would. I did feel at times as if he was insufficiently frantic; he tended to drag a bit. The whole show did, really.

Alison Davis did an excellent job as Katisha, by anyone's standard except the one I couldn't help but use. I had to compare her to Houston's Nancy Markeloff, who won best female performance at the Festival last year. I know of no one at this festival -- including the professionals -- who would compare favorably to her.

I thought that there was rather good accuracy of lines, for the most part -- that's something that I've noticed missing with several of the English amateur groups thus far. Ko-Ko went wrong once or twice, but I have forgotten which lines they were. I'd like to particularly recognize the correct line that I really often hear done wrong by the Mikado:

KAT. Mercy! Mercy for Ko-Ko! Mercy for Pitti-Sing! Mercy even for Pooh-Bah!
MIK. I beg your pardon, I don't think I quite caught that remark.
POOH. Mercy even for Pooh-Bah.

For some reason, lots of the Mikados I've seen want to put in a "last" before the word "remark", which completely ruin's the Pooh-Bah joke. Tonight's got it right. Bravo.

I'm afraid it's terribly difficult for me to be an impartial judge, because I can't help but compare this show to our own, and also because I always knew what joke or gag was about to come next. But really, I do think that this was the best of the English G&S Society shows I've seen thus far.

I polished up that handle so carefullee

2005-08-08T01:47:00.000+01:00

Today was, for me, one of the more interesting days in recent memory. Let's start from the beginning: I got a chance to sleep in, and you'd better believe I took it -- I woke up at about 1:15 in the afternoon, just in time to get myself together for reherasal at 2:00.

There is a certain sort of scenario that occurs sometimes in the dreams of choristers and other people who auditioned for leads and didn't get cast. These dreams, when they are realistic, are difficult to classify; it's not clear whether they belong to the realm of fantasy or nightmare. But I wasn't dreaming early this afternoon when I walked to Trinity Church, our rehearsal site, and Diana, our director, greeted me thus:

"Jonathan, how well do you know Strephon?"

I do know the part reasonably well, and I told her so. She explained that Gary was out sick, and would I please take over for him for the day? So I had about ten minutes to run through duet blocking with Rebecca, and occasionally I got the odd second to look over a vocal score to see how well I still knew Strephon's dialogue. I was pointed variously around the stage and learned blocking as I went. It turns out, I do still know Strephon's dialogue pretty well, and I know most of his music very well. I even sort of know his cut song, which we're including in our production. I'm also pretty good at picking up blocking and simple dance steps on the fly. It was a harrowing and exciting experience. I think I might really like performing in pressure situations.

For those who aren't keeping track, today was Sunday and our show goes up Tuesday. We're all wishing Gary a speedy recovery; if he's not better tomorrow, there's a chance we might have to do some desperate shuffling around for Tuesday. I will, of course, keep you gentle readers updated. Erin, I'll keep you updated too.

Obviously, I wish the best for Gary, and I know it's best for the show to have leads who have, well, rehearsed the roles. But it would be idle to deny that I am human, and I'm an ambitious human, too, and I would love a chance to fill in Strephon on the Buxton opera house stage. Sentiments conflicting, indeed.

After rehearsal, I went out for Tapas with a bunch of S'netters (you know, with the shinft-apostrophe, it's probably just as cumbersome to type "S'netters" as "Savoynetters". The "avoy" really sort of rolls of the fingers. I guess the abbreviated version is good for economy of space, though. Not like long pointless parentheticals. *ahem*), and we had a nice time. Then back down the the opera house for more G&S! I went with Amy to Sale's Mikado, which I will review separately.

Then a nice time at the cabaret, where our S'net tenor colleague Christopher Diffey gave a very fine opening cabaret, and Sale gave another. I chatted with Savoynetters, and Ian was funny as always, then I walked Amy home, then I walked myself home, then I wrote this. Soon I'll write a review of Mikado, then I'll go to bed.

Hail, Poetry

2005-08-07T01:55:00.000+01:00

I came up with a neat idea at dinner that I wish I'd thought of before the festival began. It's not too late to start now, though. I'm going to start keeping track of how many times I sing "Hail, Poetry" at the festival each day.

Saturday, August 6: Five. Twice in Young Ambassadors rehearsal, twice on stage of the opera house in the audience sing-along, and once at the Savoynet dinner into Bob and Jackie's phone.

I'm an impressive character to play

2005-08-07T01:28:00.000+01:00

Our little pre-show opener went pretty well, I think. We sang several big choruses and a couple of madrigals in an attempt to draw in audience participation. We were pretty well-received, I think. It was fun to get on that stage again -- I can't wait until I get to be there for real, first in my tiny but occasionally-featured role in Iolanthe on Tuesday, then later in the much more featured Major-General.

The Savoynet dinner was pleasant and fun, if maybe a bit more expensive than I could honestly afford. What I'd forgotten this afternoon was that the Princess Ida pot-luck was tonight, starring Savoynet's own Rebecca Hains in the title role, and my fellow Young Ambassador Sharae Deckard as Melissa. Both were very good. Rebecca had been nervous about tonight's performance, having heard that Valerie Masterson would be in attendance.

A brief tangent: it's pretty surreal to see old D'Oyly Carte stars around town. I've stopped being surprised, but I've not stopped being awed, when I find that I'm standing next to Philip Potter in the bar, or sitting two seats down from Thomas Round in the dress circle. I'm not luck (or, in some cases, old) enough to have gotten a chance to see these people perform, but I know their recordings very well, and they really are G&S heros to me. I always want to speak to them, but I never can think of what I'd say. I really ought to figure that one out and get over it; I was very upset not to have met Kenneth Sandford at the festival last year.

Anyway, back to tonight. Rebecca needn't have worried; she gave a stunning Ida, and Valerie was impressed. She told Rebecca so herself. (Don got a really nice picture.) Savoynet listowner Marc Shepherd gave me permission to post his review, which I memorized and transcribed:

I thought it was pretty fucking awesome.

Well done, Rebecca.

I get to sleep in tomorrow! Young Ambassadors have the day off, and Savoynet doesn't start until 2:00, because we rehearse in a church, and for some reason they want to use the space themselves Sunday morning.

That you will well and truly try

2005-08-06T16:03:00.000+01:00

This morning we did a (nearly) complete run of Iolanthe, so I actually got to see most of it, much of it for the first time. We have a very solid show. Ian and Rich are going to be a riot as Mountararat and Tolloller -- they have great comic timing and great voices and great interaction with one another. Of course Rebecca is superb as Phyllis, and Gary, whom I didn't know before this week, has a strong voice and confidence, looking just the part as Strephon. Julie's Fairy Queen is tart and pleasant, and Ron is very much in command of the patter and dance steps and will make a solid Lord Chancellor. The beautiful and delightful Charlotte will make a beautiful and delightful Iolanthe. And Karen Ann, Deborah, and Amy are very cute as the three leading chorus fairies. I haven't seen much of Tony yet as Private Willis (he was out today) but what little I've seen promises greatness too.

I've also really enjoyed working with Rich's son, George, who is the Lord Chancellor's train-bearer.

Rich was out today, playing Ernest in The Grand Duke, so Diana asked me to step in for his Act II material. Today I learned that in fact, I do know most of Tolloller's dialogue, and even which lines are his and which are Mountararat's. I also stumbled through his steps in the trio, with heavy prodding from Ian and Ron. It was fun and amusing.

I'm off now to Young Ambassadors rehearsal, then the Savoynet dinner. No show tonight! I'm not sure what I'm doing after dinner -- I may call it an early night, or I may find some adventure to go on. I may or may not post again before tomorrow.

Giving an ear to all his glories

2005-08-06T00:44:00.000+01:00

Several times now, people have approached me at the festival, having recognized me as the author of this very blog that you're reading now! Hi out there, if you're reading!

I got up early this morning to rehearse the cabaret material with Savoynet. I was one of the ones who was worried about including so many unfamiliar pieces, but I'm now confident that we'll be solid Tuesday night. And it's nice to actually get a chance to sing with them, since I don't sing during the show. Then we reviewed blocking in the parts of Act I which include the choruses; for me, that was the March of the Peers, leading up through Phyllis's entrance, the "Blue Blood" sequence, and the exeunt leading up to "When I went to the bar." Again, as is often the case, I didn't have a whole lot to do, but I enjoyed chatting with Amy and Rebecca and Ian and whoever else wasn't busy when I was looking for somebody to chatter with.

I was released with a bit of spare time in the afternoon, so I did things like visit the ATM and buy soap and relax with a Guinness for fifteen minutes before Young Ambassadors rehearsal. We were performing a few numbers outside the opera house before the show (ack! no time for dinner!), then a twenty-minute cabaret. So I had to be prepared to sing Sergeant Meryll's line in "Strange adventure," and Robin's in "I know a youth." Singing outside the opera house went rather well indeed, I thought; we'd wheeled out an electronic keyboard, and sang to a constantly-growing and attentive audience. "Strange adventure" went as well as it's ever gone in rehearsal, which was awesome. We also sang "Then one of us will be a queen," but I didn't sing in that one. I'm not sure how well the sound carried -- I doubt the audience could hear us very clearly from a distance, but people seemed to continue to stand and listen, so they must've been getting something.

The show tonight was the first professional show of the festival, Opera Della Luna's H.M.S. Pinafore. Della Luna does unusual, non-traditional productions. They make liberal cuts and adaptations to the libretto and score alike. They do not use choruses. I saw their Mikado last year; I thought it was good, but a little too weird for my taste (and I did miss those rousing choruses). Mikado last year was worth seeing, though, thanks to Simon Butteriss's phenomenal Ko-Ko. The man really is a G&S superstar and role model in my book.

His Joseph Porter tonight did not disappoint. It's never been a role that I found very appealing -- there's just not all that much there that I see that I would want to play up. (When I was a teenager I found his patter song to be dreadfully clever, but I've sort of grown out of that.) But Simon can make a delight out of anything, and he delivered with Sir Joe tonight. His comic timing, facial expressions, and physical comedy were really top-notch. I could describe some of the bits he did, but it really wouldn't be a tenth as funny to read as it is to see.

It wasn't just Simon that was great tonight, though. The whole company really did bring a certain magic to the stage that really made Pinafore come alive in a way that I've never seen it do before. During the overture, the crew of the ship assembled the mast, riggings, etc., right before our eyes! It really was an impressive feat. Throughout, choreography was inventive and exciting, and the energy never let down a bit. (The fact that they cut most of the slower stuff made that latter part a bit easier.) The two slower songs that survived the cuts, "Fair moon" and "The hours creep on apace" were both excellent. Lorina Core's rendition of the latter was the best I'd ever heard it.

Della Luna gave another example tonight of the good way to do encores. Like many companies, Della Luna encored the Bell Trio several times, but unlike many companies, they introduced sufficient variety and mania and silliness and fun to justify the encores; indeed to make them very welcome. They derived some humor by breaking the frame and doing jokes about comic operas and the encore system; each encore interrupted the dialogue that comes after the song. The first time, the company seemed to be ignoring the audience's calls for an encore and moving right on; Josephine exited after the end of hers, the last verse, there was applause, and then Captain Corcoron began to speak: "Sir Joseph, I cannot express...", and then the music started up again.

This repeated a few times, each time involving more complicated and humorous choreography (and sometimes involving a more complicated and humorous cast of characters!), until after the final encore, the Captain began once again to deliver his line, and Joseph interrupted, "Don't even say it!" and marched right off stage. That dialogue wasn't important anyway. I really do love a good encore, just as I am really frustrated and bored by a bad one.

Like I noted last night, cuts can be dangerous, and it's easy to miss problems that are introduced by removing material. For the most part, the cuts tonight were very clean, but I did catch one apparent oversight. They cut the scene where the sailors sing Sir Joseph's song to Dick Deadeye, which also signifies the passage of some time. The way it went tonight, we went very quickly from Sir Joseph's entrance into Josephine's dialogue about how his picture (not his attentions) nauseate her. The scenes were fluid, with characters overlapping, so it seems clear that very little time has passed, yet she still references that he "told her himself" that he was a great and good man, and that he'd "dared to teach her dear father to dance a hornpipe on the cabin table." There just hasn't been enough time for this to occur. I think perhaps that her lines ought to have been re-written to remove those references.

Again, that's just a tiny point. I had a marvelous time. The last two nights have been really, really high-quality G&S, which is what I come to the Buxton opera house to see. Let's hope the festival continues in this vein.

After the show was the cabaret, which included our first Young Ambassadors cabaret. The program:

Iolanthe, the last bit of the Act I Finale
"I know a youth," me and Sharae
"We're called gondolieri", John and Gareth
"Now wouldn't you like to rule the roast", Holly and Joanne
"If we're weak enough to tarry", Gareth and Hollie
Gondoliers Act II Finale

I think it went rather well, and I got lots of good comments about my duet. Sharae is fun to work with. Everybody did a really nice job tonight. Our cabaret was followed by a really nice set of numbers by Rich Miller and Ian Henderson (our Tolloller and Mountararat next week).

I'm sorry I won't get to see The Grand Duke again with the other cast tomorrow, but I'll be in Savoynet rehearsal. Most of that group heads back to New York the following morning, so I bade farewell to them at the Festival Club tonight. I got to have another chat with Miranda, which was very nice. We've a renewed intention to keep in touch, back in the U.S.

So far it's a relatively early night tonight. Maybe I'll appreciate that tomorrow morning; we'll see.

Pretty pretty pretty pretty...

2005-08-05T07:12:00.000+01:00

Today started, believe it or not, slowly and leisurely. (I think that's an acceptable adverb usage. Confirmation/denial, anyone?) I slept in, and came to Savoynet rehearsal at about noon, just in time for lunch. We were blocking the Act II finale. During the course of the afternoon, it was determined that I wouldn't be onstage for the finale after all until the very end, so I didn't get any of my material blocked, but I had some time to chat with Rebecca and other friends, as well as to try on my heavily-modified costume coat.

At 4:30 I went to Young Ambassadors rehearsal, where we learned about many of our upcoming gigs, starting tomorrow night. We're performing outside the opera house before the show, and we're also doing the second cabaret. A series of duets, I believe -- I'll be singing Robin's duet with Rose. We worked music on that, and did some blocking. I have a weird mental block about pitch at one point in that song; I'm having a terrible time keeping it in tune. Hopefully a fresh look tomorrow will help a lot.

The show tonight was the Blue Hill Grand Duke. I was really glad to get a chance to see it, because I'd wanted to go down from Providence to New York last spring, but couldn't quite make the schedule work.

This review is probably going to be shorter than most of the reviews I've been writing. Part of that is because it's quite late and I'm tired, and part of it is because there's just not as much to say. Indeed, I can get all the important stuff into these few words: the show was phenomenal.

I've left the opera house almost every night this week just a little bit disappointed. It's becoming clear to me that I'm a harsher critic of amateur Gilbert & Sullivan than most people, even most people at the festival. Audience response, as well as the after-show chatter (and even next-day chatter) can describe some shows as absolutely brilliant, where I'd put them at almost adequate. Blue Hill re-assured me that an audience member as demanding as I am can still sometimes be satisfied, and even thrilled. This was the kind of show I've been waiting to see.

The chorus was vocally strong and clear, and brilliantly involved and exciting onstage. One rubric I tend to use, both as a chorister and as a critic of choruses, is this: One constraint on the proper amount of chorus involvement during most circumstances is that choristers should be interesting enough that, if an audience member chooses to look at him, he will not become bored. Instead, the audience member should be impressed by a bright smile, or an appropriate attitude, or follow background business, or have his attention directed to the important part of the stage, or be impressed by a solid freeze. (Another constraint is that for the most part choristers should not force audience members to look at them. That's upstaging.) Tonight's was the first chorus I saw that uniformly delivered on that front. (Utopia was very close.)

The chorus moved incredibly well -- they were precise and the choreography was innovative and interesting. Particularly impressive was the romp leading into the welcome of the Prince of Monte Carlo -- it reminded me of the big fight scene where the furniture attacks the villagers in Disney's Beauty and the Beast. Fantastic fun.

The show was rather drastically cut, just as it needed to be. It didn't drag even a little bit, pretty much ever. There was only one bit of sloppy cutting I noticed. They cut out all the talk of courting in the marketplace with people watching with opera glasses, which was a perfectly good thing to cut, but it introduced a bit of a confusion. I think it worked something like this, working from my memory (bold parts are those which survived the cut):

Enter BARONESS VON KRAKENFELDT.

BAR. Rudolph! Why, what's the matter?
RUD. Why, I'm not quite myself, my pet. I'm a little worried and upset. I want a tonic. It's the low diet, I think. I am afraid, after all, I shall have to take the bull by the horns and have an egg with my breakfast.
BAR. I shouldn't do anything rash, dear. Begin with a jujube. (Gives him one.)
RUD. (about to eat it, but changes his mind). I'll keep it for supper. (He sits by her and tries to put his arm round her waist.)
BAR. Rudolph, don't! What in the world are you thinking of?
RUD. I was thinking of embracing you, my sugarplum. Just as a little cheap treat.
BAR. What, here? In public? Really, you appear to have no sense of delicacy.
RUD. No sense of delicacy, Bon-bon!
BAR. No. I can't make you out. When you courted me, all your courting was done publicly in the Marketplace. When you proposed to me, you proposed in the Market-place. And now that we're engaged you seem to desire that our first tte-occur in the Marketplace! Surely you've a room in your Palace--with blinds--that would do?
RUD. But, my own, I can't help myself. I'm bound by my own decree.
BAR. Your own decree?
RUD. Yes. You see, all the houses that give on the Market-place belong to me, but the drains (which date back to the reign of Charlemagne) want attending to, and the houses wouldn't let--so, with a view to increasing the value of the property, I decreed that all love-episodes between affectionate couples should take place, in public, on this spot, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, when the band doesn't play.
BAR. Bless me, what a happy idea! So moral too! And have you found it answer?
RUD. Answer? The rents have gone up fifty per cent, and the sale of opera-glasses (which is a Grand Ducal monopoly) has received an extraordinary stimulus! So, under the circumstances, would you allow me to put my arm round your waist? As a source of income. Just once!
BAR. But it's so very embarrassing. Think of the opera-glasses!
RUD. My good girl, that's just what I am thinking of. Hang it all, we must give them something for their money! What's that?
BAR. (unfolding paper, which contains a large letter, she hands to him). It's a letter which your detective asked me to hand to you. I wrapped it up in yesterday's paper to keep it clean.
RUD. Oh, it's only his report! That'll keep. But, I say, you've never been and bought a newspaper?
etc.

I don't think the show suffered a bit from missing that long stretch of dialogue, but the cut leaves the "don't" rather out of context. Why does she recoil from his embrace? Does she not like him very much? Is she embarrassed? The audience is left wondering.

See how hard I have to work to find things to complain about? I really had a marvelous time. Oh yeah, one more amazing bit: the plot even made sense!

I'm too tired to write about each of the principals just now. I'm not sure I'd have much to say about them, actually -- I thought they were all very good. I've heard people say about several shows now that they had "no weak links" in them. This is the first show I've seen here that actually fit that description. This is all the more impressive, considering the size of the Grand Duke cast, and the fact that Blue Hill double-casts!

(Exception: Cox in Box had no weak links.)

It was a marvelous show. My friend Miranda Knowles, who played a wonderful Gretchen (and who had the biggest and prettiest smile on stage) introduced me to several members of the Troupe after the show. Delightful people, all. Blue Hill seems like a group that I would very much love and be proud to get involved with. If I ever end up moving to New York, that'll be one of the top items on my list of things to do to settle in.

Now: posting this entry, checking email, responding if there's anything pressing, checking to see if the Red Sox winning streak is still alive, and going the heck to bed. Tomorrow morning: rehearsing music for the Savoynet cabaret, then I think I have a couple of hours before Diana needs me for blocking, which I may use to pick up a few household items I've been missing. In the afternoon, Young Ambassadors rehearses, then we perform on both sides of Della Luna's Pinafore. I saw Simon Butteriss at the cabaret tonight and said hello. I can't wait to see him perform again, starting tomorrow.

I am one of them

2005-08-05T02:25:00.000+01:00

There's another G&S Buxton blog this year, being written by Carol Davis. Carol is a wonderful lady -- she was a chorister in the fantastic Grand Duke tonight, and is another in our Iolanthe next week. Her blog is here. I would describe her posts as more personal, here is what Buxton is like, then mine, which tends to put more of an emphasis on what I'm doing and what I think of what I see. (Tim, does this reflect something about our personalities?) Carol's posts are longer and less frequent than mine, and they seem to have a couple of day's delay in getting posted.

Also, if you go to the entry that I linked, you can read what Carol had to say about me in the cabaret the other night:

I went to the cabaret after the show(s) last night, where the main feature was that “pot luck” Patience that I mentioned earlier. Well, it was, let’s see…fun? Yes, good word. Jonathan Ichikawa played Bunthorne. Jonathan is an up-and-coming young performer who actually is also writing his own Buxton blog. I’ll have to get the URL for you. He is totally adorable, a graduate student in Philosophy at Brown. Everyone on stage was justifiably “lovesick” over him, and, yes, I mean everyone.

Thanks, Carol. And thanks Maureen, for the heads-up.

A passion that's intense

2005-08-04T06:24:00.000+01:00

In case anyone's curious the timestamps reflect local time. Right now it's 1:24 a.m. in Buxton and 8:24 p.m. in Houston. Figure out your own time zone as appropriate.

On to the update: Another long day. I think that I should just get used to these.

I started with Savoynet rehearsal this time. We're planning a few pieces some SWOGs for our cabaret, after Iolanthe, so we have to learn them. I'm also singing the Grand Vizier's solo in a bit from The Rose of Persia, so I went in today to learn that, as well as to practice some of my blocking in Act I. I spent a nice morning reviewing that material and visiting with Savoynet friends.

At 2:30 I went to Clive Woods's talk, "An accompanist's lot is not a happy one," which was a really neat experience. Clive's a fascinating man, and he gave a rare perspective on accompanying G&S. He also had a few things to say about balancing a life of performance with academia, which I found very relevant indeed. He outlined some ways that we should and should not treat our accompanists; I think I learned today that I was better than average, but that's not saying all that much. Some of the point of view was familiar, thanks to my very dear friend Emily, who also accompanies G&S and other things; some was not.

At 4:00 we had Young Ambassadors rehearsal. We reviewed some music and blocked a few songs. We also learned that we were to perform before the show that night! I love last-minute Buxton arrangements. We managed to pull together "Hail, Poetry", the Mikado madrigal, and the finale from Trial for a quick performance for the visiting mayor. John Savournin was in the show tonight, so he wasn't around, which meant I had to learn his line in the madrigal. The words are trickier to nail down than one might think, but I got it for the performance. (That's more than I can say, sadly, for my easier lyrics in the Trial bit, but we survived.)

Our Young Ambassadors format is intense. Basically, we just need to know lots and lots of stuff, to be ready to perform on very short notice. Here are the things I know of that I'm to be off-book on, ready to go, so far. Starred items are things I've never performed or really learned, although they were somewhat familiar. Double-starred items are things I didn't know at all and had never sung before the festival began, although I'd of course heard them before. (This is from memory, so I may have inadvertently left some things off the list.)

Mikado Madrigal*
Hail, Poetry
Trial by Jury finale**
Then one of us will be a queen
My boy, you may take it form me*
Strange Adventure**
When all night long
Henceforth all the crimes
I know a youth*
Kind captain, I've important information
Never-mind the why and wherefore
If you go in*

This is awesome.

After our brief performance tonight, I went to see Nene's Gondoliers. I thought that it was good, but I think that most of the people around me thought that it was better than I thought it was. It certainly had its moments, and its strong suits: Giuseppe (my Young Ambassador colleage John Savournin) and the Duchess (Kathy George) were excellent, and Marco (Leslie Crowson), Gianetta (Ruth Ireson), the Duke (Tim Hurst-Brown), and Don Alhambra (Tony Smith) were good. The costumes were beautiful.

All told, though, I left the show impressed with those people and a few group moments (the cachuca was very exciting), but rather uninspired about the show in general. I hasten to add that I think that mine was a minority opinion; as far as I could tell, on the whole the audience loved it. There is indeed very much to be said for a company that can put on a show that an audience loves. But I'm going to go ahead and assume that another of Nene's goals was to put on a show that fits well with the particular individual opinion of Jonathan Ichikawa.

The biggest problem for me, I think, started and ended with the chorus. Nene, I'm afraid, suffered rather severely from stand-and-sing syndrome, particularly in the first act. There was very little movement on stage, which made it that much easier for choristers to start thinking of themselves as background pieces. I very rarely felt as though they were engaged with the action around them -- I sometimes felt like they weren't even aware of it. (I now understand, better than ever before, Alistair's repeated insistence on smiling over-much during "Bridegroom and bride"; tonight I saw many tiny smiles on blank faces.)

The chorus music was also rather weak. I didn't hear many wrong notes or things sung out of tune; indeed, I heard very little from the chorus at all. The Act I finale was particularly bad in this respect -- near the end, I heard the four principals at the front of the stage, and could not make out sounds from the chorus at all. It was clear from watching some of the men's mouths that they did not know the music. It's a shame, because there are some glorious bits in this one. Consonants were a little shaky in the opening number. Red.

Act II was considerably better than Act I in these respects. I think that Nene put much of its energy into choreographing the cachuca, which turned out very well indeed. They had perhaps between one-third and one-half of the company onstage as featured dances, while the others just sang. The effect was just fine, and the dance was great fun.

I don't know whether it was a mistake or whether it was a conscientious cut, but I didn't at all miss the birthday joke in the Act I dialogue between the two couples and the Don. If it's a cut: well done. There was something else similar in Act II -- I forget what the line was.

Gondoliers is not one of my favorite shows, which is part of the problem. I think it's quite badly-paced, especially in Act II. The Ducal party scenes just go on too long. And the Duke, even when he's played very well, as he was tonight, just isn't very funny.

All told, I thought it was a reasonably enjoyable night. This show sort of made me wish that Houston was bringing this summer's Gondoilers to Buxton.

After the show tonight, I went to the cabaret, and Blue Hill is now in town! I met Miranda, whom I'd met before at one of Sam's sing-ins. We had time only for a very brief chat, but I hope to catch up with her tomorrow or sometime in the next few days, before she leaves. They go up tomorrow night.

Tomorrow I get the morning off Savoynet blocking rehearsals. If I can get myself going early enough, I'll go catch the music rehearsal for the cabaret, or I might take the opportunity to sleep in a bit. I'll be learning Act II blocking early in the afternoon, then Young Ambassadors rehearsal. Who knows, we may learn that we're performing again tomorrow night.

That'd rule.

He who shies

2005-08-03T05:39:00.000+01:00

This is an amateur festival, but the bar is set substantially higher in Buxton than it is in your typical community theater. At least, it is from my point of view: it takes a better show to satisfy me here than it would in most other amateur contexts.

Tonight's Iolanthe, by the Goldaming Operatic Society, would have been pretty good in many amateur theater contexts. I was disappointed by it at the International Gilbert & Sullivan Festival. I won't go into great detail about what I didn't like, here -- I'll just highlight a few disappointing features and odd choices.

Beginning with the latter, Goldaming took the unusual step of swapping Strephon and Phyllis's two duets, leaving everything else unchanged. I can only assume that the rationale was to create an obvious connection between the act I line, "if we are to marry, the sooner the better" and the idea behind the traditionally-Act-II duet. But making this switch introduces several new problems.

For one thing, we lose the whole point of the first piece: Phyllis is reassuring Strephon that nothing can come between them; later we see how naive that was, and by the Act II duet, they're much more realistic. Second, "None shall part" makes no sense at all in the Act II context: "We'll get married first, and change our minds afterward. None shall part us from each other!" Third, the slower duet interrupts the momentum that builds up to the end of the show.

Notably, David Turner, the adjudicator, seemed not to notice that the duets had been switched; he made no mention of it, and at one point he mentioned "the scene leading up to 'if we're weak enough to tarry'" in reference to the Act II scene.

The blocking, I thought, was quite uninspired. At one point in Act I, I believe that everybody on stage stayed in the same spot for about six minutes. Standard arcs and semi-circles; nothing at all inventive. Use of props was pretty terrible. The Lord Chancellor came on in Act II with a cute teddy bear, dressed in a miniature version of the Chancellor's robes. It was also a puppet! Cuteness possibilities were unlimited, but tonight's Chancellor just did a couple of head turns, then dumped it unceremoniously on the floor. At one point later, he picked it up again, walked across the stage, then walked back to the original spot and just put it back down!

The cast was, on average, quite old. Phyllis and the Chancellor's train-bearer were the only two performers who looked to me to be under thirty, and many were much older than that.

Energy was usually very low on stage. Many times, people who were not performing seemed to take on a waiting-for-the-next-cue attitude; much of the show was very difficult to stay awake through. Rebecca Lucas, who played Phyllis, was a praiseworthy exception. She was very involved whenever she was on stage. Sometimes her line readings didn't seem quite together, though.

In general, I don't think that the company sufficiently understood this show. They also didn't know it all that well: many, many lines were paraphrased, and I noticed at least two chorus members who didn't know the words to the chorus songs. I should say, though, that the big choral numbers were quite satisfactory; the beginning of the end of the Act I Finale sounded powerful and beautiful, just as it should.

But for the most part, the singing varied from passable to dreadful. A notable exception was Nora Price, who sang a fine Fairy Queen. Simon Cakebread's Lord Chancellor was lively (when he was singing) and usually in command of his role, but I do wish someone had insisted that he take another few looks at the score. He was not careful at all about observing various rhythms. The worst, but not the only, offense of this type was the use of dotted-eights and sixteenths instead of triplets in "When I went to the bar". (Sorry, non-Americans; I don't know the alternate names of dotted eighth notes and sixteenth notes. Do triplets have a different name, too?) The Nightmare Song started off ok, but he lost track of it, and he lost his diction, for the fast bit at the end. ("If you go in" was fun and good.)

I hate writing negative reviews, but I'm unwilling to be dishonest about what I think about shows here, and I think it's important that I review everything I see here. I think that to perform at this level is to invite this sort of criticism.

I will say this: the Godalming group had a strong support contingent in attendance, and clearly loved doing what they were doing. So even though they put on a disappointing show, they are still doing one of the important things that G&S societies do: cultivating a love of G&S. I heartily approve of that aspect.

Ditto, ditto my song

2005-08-03T05:12:00.000+01:00

It was a long day. Let's see in how much detail I feel like writing.

I started today at the Paxton for our "Meet the Young Ambassadors" talk and concert. Pam introduced us generally, and we introduced ourselves individually, and we sang a few things. "Hail, Poetry", "The merriest fellows are we", "Regular royal queen", the Mikado madrigal, and the finale to Trial. In between, we talked about ourselves and our lives. We also did one of the most daring things I've ever done on stage -- we invited audience requests. Name the G&S, and we'll sing it, off-book.

We were able to handle almost everything that was requested. We had to decline on Cyril's kissing song, unfortunately, as neither tenor knew it, and we were unable to fulfill a John-Savournin-specific request for "Away, remorse", due to unavailability of piano part. (The person making the request didn't specify which version of the patter song she wanted; I assume she wanted more than just the recit. If she wanted "Henceforth all the crimes", I'd've been all over it.)

An unfortunate demographic circumstance: of the people in the group, I think that John and I know the most of the cannon. Sadly, we sing the same vocal parts, so that's redundant knowledge; instead of increasing our versatility, that just means we get to compete over singing the things we know. This morning, he did "Tit-willow" and I did J. W. Wells's incantation.

The concert, I thought, was a good success. People have approached me throughout the day since then to talk to me about it.

I spent the middle of the day with Savoynet at Iolanthe rehearsal. I got to see Rebecca (Phyllis), Charlotte (Iolanthe), and Gary (Strephon) in action for the first time. They all seem very good. I know Rebecca, of course, and I saw Charlotte in the Trial. Gary has a clear and powerful tenor voice; he will absolutely command the stage, and he looks the part, too. I got to do a bit more of my own fun business, too. During down time, I got a chance for a nice chat with Amy (Leila) about philosophy of imagination. Hurrah for new friends.

Then I was back to rehearsal for the Young Ambassadors, where we started planning for the rest of the festival. We're going to do some cabarets, and perform outside the opera house. It should be pretty awesome. We started working on a long list of things we're prepared to sing. On my to-learn list: Sergeant Meryll's line in "Strange adventure". My to-review list: "I know a youth", "Kind captain, I've important information".

I had a nice dinner at Helen's with Sharae and Justin, then Sharae and I came back to the opera house for Godalming's Iolanthe, which merits a seperate post.

By eating three with obvious relish!

2005-08-02T06:22:00.000+01:00

We had our first Young Ambassadors rehearsal this afternoon. We figured out our concert for tomorrow morning -- no major challenges, except that I have a bit of work to do to memorize the Counsel's part in the finale to Trial by Jury. We're also all supposed to introduce ourselves; I guess I should figure out what I ought to say. After tomorrow morning's concert, we have rehearsals the next three afternoons to figure out how the rest of the festival is going to go.

In the opera house tonight was Trial by Jury, Cox in Box, and a one-man play called "A Disagreeable Man".

I knew many of the people in Trial, mostly through Savoynet. I had been asked to join the chorus for it, actually, but I ended up unable to commit to that, thanks to the Young Ambassador schedule. It was only the second Trial I've ever seen staged, and it was by far the best. But since that's not saying much, let me say more.

The movement of the chorus was very crisp and energetic, and the sound was strong and clear. Diction was good. The full ensemble lost the conductor a couple of times, but nothing disastrous. I really enjoyed getting a chance to see Rich Miller in action as the Defendant -- he was perfect for the part. He's our Tolloller next week. Ian Henderson was great as the judge, and I really enjoyed Charlotte Eriksson as the Plaintiff. (I'm sorry to say, I didn't meet her until the cabaret tonight, and didn't retrospectively recognize her on stage. She's playing Iolanthe.) The adjudicator suggested that it's dangerous to play Angelina too money-grubbingly -- that it would make her unsympathetic. I personally like this interpretation; no one in the show is particularly praiseworthy, but everyone is funny.

Michael Rayner, whom I don't know, played the Usher. He had a powerful voice and strong stage presence; unfortunately, it took him a bit to get into the role. I'm afraid he got rather confused on his opening solo. But his later silence in courts were just great. He was a fun character to watch on stage, too.

On to Cox and Box, because I'm tired and have a concert in the morning. This was directed by my Young Ambassador colleague John Savournin, who also played Cox. John is an absolutely amazing performer and I can't wait to get on stage with him. He has a huge, warm, professional baritone that I'm very envious of, and his stage energy is unrivaled (that's not to say I'm not trying!). Brilliant performance by John, and solid direction, too. Cute blocking and some fun added business.

The other two performers, David Menezes as Box and Phillip Canner as Bouncer, were both very good as well. Everyone moved together crisply and had fun interactions. They had good voices, but were sometimes difficult to make out over the orchestra (and John).

It was a really top-notch Cox and Box. One of the best shows I've seen at Buxton.

I was deliberating on whether to come back in for the end of a long evening in the opera house for "A Disagreeable Man". I did end up going back, but I think it may have been a mistake; in my sleepy state, it tended to drag. Charles Pemberton, the only actor, played Gilbert as he discussed his life. The play alternated between exposition and anecdote. Having read Savoynet for the past several years, I'd already heard most of the stories (and in some cases, read the stories allegedly debunked), so the show didn't do much for me. It was acted extremely well, and the audience seemed to like it, but I personally probably would've been better off skipping it in favor of a drink at the pub before the cabaret.

My Bunthorne at the Patience pot-luck was very well-received, and it was just fun to do.

A personage of great dignity

2005-08-01T18:52:00.000+01:00

I had my first rehearsal with Savoynet this morning. I'm playing an usher of the house of peers -- my Young Ambassador schedule keeps me too busy for the chorus, but director Diana said she had some business that I could do onstage, so I signed on. I'm glad I did -- it's really fun to work with this group, and she has some interesting and fun things for me to do.

Houston folk, my role is basically somewhat akin to that of the waiter in our Gondoliers, although I think it's a bit smaller, which works well, because that also amounts to less rehearsal.

More details about my role after the show goes up. It's hush-hush for now.

The cast seems quite good. I didn't really get to see any of the principals in action today except for Ron, our Lord Chancellor. He's a good character and very in command of his acting and music, and is also a really nice guy. I was working with him and little George, the train bearer. I did some work with the men's chorus, too -- they sound wonderful.

That's my brief update for now. I'm heading back down the hill to hear Bruce Montgomery's talk, then I have our first Young Ambassadors rehearsal, then a trio of one-acts tonight, about which I'm sure I'll post late tonight or tomorrow. I'm also singing Bunthorne at the pot luck Patience. Busy day.

Glory then will crown the day

2005-08-01T07:31:00.000+01:00

I just got in from the Philadelphia Gilbert & Sullivan Players performance of Utopia, Limited. It was my first Utopia, and a strong one. The curtain rose at the beginning of the opening number (no overture) to a beautiful and colorful set and a chorus of beautiful and colorfully-dressed women. It was, on average, a younger group, which is always nice to see. Two very adorable young boys joined the chorus.

The choruses were strong and lively -- obviously, they were full of extremely talented people who would've been comfortable as soloists. The men's chorus produced a stronger sound than the women's, which was occasionally over-shadowed. The opening number, which the adjudicated aptly observed to be a challenging piece to open a show with, was very nice, and well-put-together, but less than 100% gripping. Fortunately, we had the beautiful picture and costumes to look at during that time.

A very enthusiastic and energetic Tarara, played by Basil Allen, followed, bringing the show's energy way up. Then the men's chorus showed up, making sure it stayed there. The men, like the women, were dressed in green-heavy colorful costumes. Most of the men were topless, though a few of them wore sleeveless yellow shirts. I'm not sure I saw the reason for that -- I think that a more uniform policy would've worked a little better, but no big deal. The men each carried two sticks, which were useful for fun tribal things like thumping the ground or clicking them together.

All told, both choruses were very good. I could tell that, like most G&S groups, they'd been given a strong emphasis on exaggerating ending consonants and making sure they're together. However, it seemed that, also like most G&S groups, they'd allowed themselves to get a bit lazy with the beginning consonants. "Prize men", "make no blunder", etc. Diction was more noticeable for me for this show because I didn't know all the words already. (Andi recently made a similar observation on Savoynet.)

"Eagle High" was a thing of, well, glory.

The wise men are given in the libretto as fifty-five and sixty-six. David and Gary Kurnov looked to be about my age. They also looked, in their grass-skirt-and-nothing-else costumes, to be in better shape than I. Very attractive young men with good figures and pronounced muscles (emphasized with make-up). They had excellent energy onstage, and they also moved very well. Their voices were pleasant and interesting, but not as strong as I'd've liked; it was often difficult to hear them singing. This was especially noticeable during the quartet material with Zara and Fitzbattleaxe, and during a bit of the Act I Finale where they and Tarara were singing from the platform -- excuse me, the rostrum -- at the back of the stage. My guess is that they were more accustomed to musical theater. But they were very fun to watch onstage -- though not, perhaps, quite so much fun for me as it was for my female and gay male colleagues.

King Paramount entered in suitably grand fashion, carried on in a seat by two chorus members. John Dennison was powerful and commanding, and had a strong voice and good reading of lines. Unfortunately, he had some communication difficulties with the orchestra, which forced him often to look squarely at the conductor, distracting from his acting. (I remember one point where he was singing something particularly personal to Lady Sophie, but looking away from her and at the conductor.) And when he started to get off, or be afraid that he was getting off, he lost a good deal of confidence in his singing and dropped his volume -- and diction -- way back. When he was with the orchestra and confident, his voice was quite powerful and impressive. His acting was very sensitive and likable.

Nekaya and Kalyba, played by Katie McGill and Lauren Kerstetter, were coy and attractive and devilishly playful. A quite perfect characterization, I thought. Their voices, like Scaphio and Phantis's, were on pitch and pleasant, but not powerful. I sometimes had trouble hearing them from my seat in the stalls (orchestra).

Lady Sophie, played by Susan Blair, was commanding and strong. I liked her characterization, and I liked the way she dealt with the girls and with the King. At first I was surprised to see someone so young-looking, but her matriarchal manner and commanding personality chased those doubts away quite quickly.

I did find one decision about Lady Sophie to be rather surprising. In Act II, when she discovers the truth about the Palace Peeper and finally succumbs to the King's affections, she manner transforms dramatically. Instead of being stiff and proper, she dances freely, and she has no apparent difficulty in seeing Nekaya and Kalyba do the same; they all dance happily together. I don't see a reason to have her change that much: she's decided that Paramount is good enough for her after all; why does that transform her notions of propriety?

I have no idea whether the interpretation I saw tonight is at all usual.

Those in the festival audience who were looking carefully were treated to a surprise with the entrance of the First Life Guards: Neil and Ian Smith were costumed, among the back of them! I'm told they only had one rehearsal, this afternoon, to work with. Given that circumstance, they did ok.

With the First Life Guards came Rebecca Hains as Zara and Jeffrey Coon as Fitzbattleaxe. Fitzbattleaxe was strong, confident, and British. His acting was believable and sensitive, and his tenor was very professional: clear, powerful, and heroic. His chemistry with Rebecca was excellent, and he did an admirable job with his understated comedy. In addition to his romantic scenes, I particularly liked him in the scene where he dupes Phantis and Scaphio. And his "A tenor, all singers above" brought the house down.

On to Rebecca. (DISCLAIMER: Rebecca is a personal friend. This in one sense unfortunate, because it might cause some readers to think that I'm unduly biased in her direction, especially as I'm about to rave about her.) Rebecca was wonderful on stage. She acted very well with Fitzbattleaxe and the King, and her voice worked extremely well with the role. It's a good one for her. One thing I really appreciated about her performance was the way she dealt with some of Gilbert's tricker lines. Gilbert is somewhat famous for complicated, drawn-out sentences. I really enjoy delivering these sentences, but it takes a lot of thought and intelligence and sensitivity. For example, Calynx has to give:

His Majesty's eldest daughter, Princess Zara, who left our shores five years since to go to England--the greatest, the most powerful, the wisest country in the world--has taken a high degree at Girton, and is on her way home again, having achieved a complete mastery over all the elements that have tended to raise that glorious country to her present pre-eminent position among civilized nations!

The challenge is to communicate all the way through the sentence and to understand its structure. If it devolves into a series of words, the audience has no chance at following it. Rebecca did a remarkable job with lines like:

With a view to
remodeling the political and social institutions of Utopia, I have brought with me six Representatives of the principal causes that have tended to make England the powerful, happy, and blameless country which the consensus of European civilization has declared it to be.

I was also very pleased to hear the Adjudicator take note of another of my favorite qualities that go by unnoticed: he said that Rebecca is a very good listener on stage. He's right, and I'm very glad he noticed.

Moving on (it's getting late!) The Flowers of Progress were uniformly good. Their costumes and personalities varied strongly, to great effect. It's a pity more of them don't get more to do. Either that or it's a pity fewer of them aren't in the show. Or that the show isn't twice as long? No, that's not it. Hmm. It's a pity that Utopia, Limited is a comic opera instead of a weekly sit-com.

HMMM.

I especially liked Craig Trachtenberg as the ultra-smooth Mr. Goldbury and Bob Binkley as Lord Dramaleigh.

There were a few odd directorial decisions I didn't understand. At the end of the quartet in which Goldbury and Dramaleigh seduce Kalyba and Nekaya, they dance offstage, DR, in the playout music. Lady Sophie enters UL during that time for her song, basically facing exactly where they are still dancing. She shows no reaction to them at all, when we'd expect her to be mortified and to go and put a stop to it. Why not delay her entrance until they're gone? Or have her enter UR, so she can sensibly be looking away? Come to think of it, didn't the girls say that she's sent them over there? They entered from DR, so that's probably where she should be coming from -- and definitely not where they should be going.

Another odd surprising bit: after explaining his situation to Zara, King Paramount just tosses a copy of the Palace Peeper aside, into the wings. I don't know why he wouldn't keep it with him, or destroy it, considering how keen he is to keep it unseen.

And one more: at the patter chorus part of "Society has quite forsaken", everybody pulled out tambourines and beat along to the music. But for music like that, especially when it's choral, it's important to keep things simple and non-distracting, so that everything is heard.

That number was encored several times, with some cute business added.

All told, it was a fun night. Utopia has its bright spots, but I think Gayden Wren got it right -- it's badly in need of further editing. Bruce Montgomery did cut a bit out of it, but I think it could've standed to have been trimmed quite a bit more. That drawing room scene seemed to go on forever. And what ever happens to Phantis/Scaphio/Zara? I haven't seen an interesting plot idea developed, built, and abandoned so completely since Ruth/Frederic!

Ok, I'm going to go post this and check email, then go to bed. Tomorrow I rehearse with Savoynet in the morning and with the Young Ambassadors in the afternoon. In between, if there's time, I'd like to try to unlock this cell phone that Joe leant me (I didn't have time in London or Manchester) and/or attend Bruce Montgomery's talk at the Paxton.

The other splendid seaman

2005-07-31T17:52:00.000+01:00

I slept from 8:00 p.m. last night to noon today, and I now feel much better. I'm set up now in a family's house, about a five minute walk from the opera house, and with a free internet connection -- it's very convenient, so things are looking to have worked out extremely well in that regard. Thanks very much to Helen Grady for organizing our accommodations.

There was a quick organizational meeting for the Savoynet Iolanthe this afternoon. I got to briefly see several old friends, as well as to meet some people I'd only known via email before. Since I'm only in a few scenes with them with my role as Usher, I'm not called to every rehearsal, so I had this afternoon off. I start with them tomorrow morning.

I went to see the Edinburgh G&S Society concert this afternoon, which featured a number of pieces from what Savoynetters call GWOSs and SWOGs -- operas by "Gilbert WithOut Sullivan" and "Sullivan WithOut Gilbert," as well as some pieces by their contemporaries. It was a really neat experience for me, as I am not familiar with most of those works. The group, as a whole, was excellent. Since I didn't get to see their Yeomen, I don't know how many of this afternoon's soloists were choristers, but the quality of the group on the whole was quite good.

They opened with an excellent "Welcome, Gentry", the only piece I'd describe as standard G&S of the afternoon. The chorus was strong and precise, even without a conductor, and their diction was outstanding. "Clumsy clod-hoppers" has never been clearer. Then I was treated to thirty pieces, almost all of which were new, or at least rather unfamiliar, to me.

A few of the highlights, to me:

A duet from the GWOS Ages Ago about aging and courtship, sung very expressively and pleasantly by people introduced as Ian and Liz. Liz didn't look old enough to have a retrospective view of being fifty-seven or whatever the age was, but they both did a very fine job. Ian has amazingly expressive eyes.
A George sang "Little maid of Arcadee" from Thespis. I've heard this piece a few times before, but I don't know that I'd ever heard it sung very well. George's voice was clear and pleasant, and allowed me to really appreciate the song for what it was.
Unfortunately I didn't catch the soloist's name, but there was a very fun and expressive "Simple little child" from The Zoo. That one's always a favorite.
"Rice and Rue", from SWOG Hadden Hall, really made me appreciate both Gilbert and Sullivan. The music was very nice indeed, and the words, I thought, were rather repetitive and lame. Nice job by those soloists.
A song from "Haste to the Wedding", by Gilbert & George Grossmith, was likewise reflective of the authors. I don't know any of Grossmith's work, but I know what Gilbert wrote for him in the Savoy, and this song just screamed 'fun patter man humor'. That was Ian again, and very entertaining.
A guest soloist, Peter Grant, sang the Roulette song from The Grand Duke. He was very good, but the song isn't a favorite.
I really enjoyed a clever duet from a musical of the time called The French Maid. The duet featured two twin brothers who sang about how they're really not alike at all. They're both baritones. John Gremillion, let's talk.
The second half of the concert began with a very strong and rousing full chorus from Runaway Girl. It featured a kazoo interlude!
The chorus also sang the introduction to the Sultan from The Rose of Persia. That was great for me to hear, as I'm singing the Grand Vizier in that piece for the Savoynet cabaret, and had never heard it before. Neat piece.
SWOG The Emerald Isle, the last thing Sullivan ever wrote, was very interesting to me. They did three pieces from this (including a fantastic solo by guest performer Bruce Graham), and they were all quite good. But the really interesting thing to me was how modern the music was. I honestly would never have guessed that Sullivan wrote it. I don't know anything at all about music history, unfortunately, but I'd be curious to hear what some of my musician friends had to say upon hearing it. Emily, Lauren, HHH, if you ever get a chance, listen to some late Sullivan and give me your thoughts. (Andi, I know this is a favorite topic of yours. All I can say is: now I know what you mean!)

The pianist was quite good, but unfortunately I didn't catch his name. I'm very glad I decided to go to that concert. One of the perks of not being quite as busy with rehearsing!

Tonight: the Philadelphia Utopia! I have several friends and acquaintances in this group, so I'm quite excited to see it. Tomorrow morning I start rehearsing for Iolanthe, and tomorrow afternoon I start rehearsing for the Young Ambassadors. Oh, and Neil just mentioned that he put me down for Bunthorne in the pot luck caberet tomorrow night. Things are picking up!

When thoroughly tired

2005-07-31T01:00:00.000+01:00

I love Buxton. Just walking through the town gives me a good feeling. I was here just a year ago, but walking through it feels the way it feels to be forcefully reminded of a wonderful childhood memory that you hadn't thought about in years.

I got into the Octagon at about 2:30, local time, and met up with Paul and Marsha and Pamela, who were conducting auditions for the youth Pirates, and I ran into many acquaintances from last summer. I'm getting ridiculously excited about this festival -- I hope we get to perform a lot with the Young Ambassadors.

I saw the "Scratch" Pinafore. This involves taking a bunch of world-class performers together with practically no rehearsal and asking them to perform a show, with the audience singing the choruses. The performances were mixed but some of them were excellent. Bruce Graham was outstanding as Captain Corcoron. And I really liked Alistair Donkin's Sir Joseph -- I'd never seen him do that particular role, and I think it's one of his best.

Jet lag started to catch up with me near the end of Act I of Pinafore. I made it through Act II, but unfortunately, I decided I had to pass on the first opera house show of the festival -- the Edinburgh Yeomen. I really would've liked to have seen it, but even if I were alert enough to sit through a whole show and stay awake, I just don't think I could handle and/or Yeomen right now.

I'm too sleepy and excited.

Ok, I have two posts to post now. I'd better get on that.

Cut short

2005-07-30T19:33:00.000+01:00

Safe in England. I've written some, but haven't found a good way to post yet. That is likely soon.

Jetlagged, etc.; early bed tonight. Just thought I'd check in.

The happiest characteristics of this glorious country

2005-07-30T19:00:00.000+01:00

Now I'm writing from the Trent 199 bus, which connects Buxton to the Manchester airport. It's been a lot of traveling -- the seven hours from Houston to London, then the hour-long immigration line at Gatwick, then an hour's delay on my flight to Manchester have really added up. I'm not sure how much I managed to sleep -- at least a little bit, but not as much as I wanted to. Maybe three hours out of the last seventeen, since I left my apartment in Houston. I should be alright to make it to nighttime, then start on a halfway reasonable schedule on England time tomorrow. It's currently 6:12 a.m. Saturday, Houston time, and 12:12 p.m. in England.

Initial impressions of England: I like it here. The people feel just a little bit friendlier, and B.A. took change donations for UNICEF. Also, I've seen a lot of beautiful people. Other things: I'd been trying to get some of the English idiom into my head in advance -- I've taken to saying 'cheers' for a casual 'thanks' in my regular life year-round, because I think it's neat, and I've reminded myself over the summer about 'stalls' and the 'interval'. One I'd forgotten to prepare for was 'toilet' -- people aren't exactly confused, I think, but they maybe very slightly roll their eyes at the American who uses silly words like 'restroom'.

I'd also forgotten how disorienting it can be to drive (or, happily, in my case: ride) on the left side of the street. When I see oncoming traffic on the right side, I tend to feel a tiny sense of panic. Then when we don't jump into a head-on collision, but I haven't internalized the patterns that explain why this is so, it feels lucky and crazy and fun, like a Disney ride. Soon I'll have to start working hard on remembering to look to the right first before crossing a road.

These things sound silly to notice or talk about, but they really can have a profound effect on someone who is used to the U.S. Or maybe it's just me.

I promise, I'll write about G&S stuff soon.

Ooh, here's one thing -- I've been reviewing Major-General dialogue. There's not really very much of it -- much less than had been my initial impression without actually preparing the role. But it is, for the most part, quite good. There are lots of opportunities for fun delivery. I'm a little nervous about playing an older character, which is something I haven't done since my first G&S ever (I was a very bad fifteen-year-old Dr. Daly), but I think, suitably made-up, I can pull this off. I think it might be a lot of fun.

Battery's low, so I'm putting the computer away for now. Not sure when I'll get to post this -- today or tomorrow, most likely. Or maybe even Monday, since tomorrow is Sunday and it might be harder to find access. Hopefully I'll fall into a fairly regular pattern soon.

Yonder isle beyond the sea

2005-07-29T20:44:00.000+01:00

I'm at Houston Intercontinental Airport, and my flight to England boards in half an hour. Joe gave me a ride to the airport and a great tip for free wireless internet (near the Continental President's Club), so I get to be excited on the internet, instead of merely excited sitting waiting for my flight. I have a long travel ahead -- I fly to London, then I fly to Manchester, then I bus to Buxton, then I carry my bags down to the Octagon where I'm meeting Paul and Marsha -- it'll probably be Saturday early afternoon in Buxton by that time; it's mid-afternoon Friday in Houston now.

I tried to minimize sleep last night so that I could more easily sleep on the plane. Other than that, I have the following airplane activities at my disposal:

A copy of my paper on dreams and skepticism for critiquing and revising
A Pirates vocal score for MGS music and dialogue review
An MP3 player for same
An MP3 player (the same one) for recreational listening
A copy of Freud's The Analysis of Dreams, just in case there's anything interesting and/or amusing relevant to my work
A copy of Colin McGinn's book on fiction and ethics, for that delightful combination of fun, interest, and potential professional relevance that I think only an academic can fully appreciate
Several philosophy papers I've been meaning to read for a while
My laptop

So far, I've remembered only one thing I've forgotten to pack: an umbrella. If that's the only such thing, I'll consider myself to have done ok.

Joe leant me a cell phone that I might be able to make work in England.

And now I'm getting nervous, so I'm going to return to my gate, leaving the free wireless internet behind. So long, Houston -- next stop: Buxton!

Then away, we go

2005-07-28T21:15:00.000+01:00

My flight from Houston to London is in just over twenty-four hours. Then a connection to Manchester and a bus to Buxton, and I'll be in Buxton!

There's lots to do to get ready. I have to pick up my pants, pack, find all my vocal scores, get Savoynet caberet music together, clean up my room, buy a power converter, find my bow tie, update the philosophy department web site, review my Major-General lines and music, review my usher's blocking, get my ticket/passport/etc. together, and figure out what other dozen things need to be done.

Ok, breathing.

I'm starting to get excited. You'd think that'd've happened long ago, but I've just been so busy that I haven't gotten a chance to feel the Buxton magic. I'm feeling it now. I'm ready to go.

Except for all those things I need to do first.

Free from this quandary

2005-07-25T20:43:00.000+01:00

Gondoliers closed last night. This year's cast is probably the most talented group of people I've ever worked with. Alistair said it was the best show he's ever done in Houston. The audiences reacted very positively, and it seems like everybody had a great time.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to sing in the chorus again this year, but I'm glad that I did. It was a good experience, and I got to sing with wonderful singers, and hang out with wonderful people. Good stuff.

To Gondoliers any cast members coming here for the first time: welcome to my G&S blog. I'm sorry that the whole society can't head over to Buxton again this year -- I'll miss y'all. But if you want to follow along with what I'm doing, I'll be updating from the Festival as often as I can (hopefully close to once a day) starting next week. I leave Houston on Friday.

Hear me, hear me if you please!

2005-07-25T20:33:00.000+01:00

NEGASS has published a couple of Yeomen reviews in their online newsletter, the Trumpet Bray. Both are generally positive. The second, though, seems to me to focus on some rather odd points. For a fairly long review, there is surprisingly little discussion of the actual merits and demerits of our production. And I don't think it's impermissibly self-centered of this Jack Point to notice certain glaring omissions in the reviewer's discussion of the finale. Here are the last two paragraphs of the review:

In the finale to Act II, Fairfax—clad in a drab olive cloak that seemed neither regal nor appropriate for a bridegroom—appears on the parapet behind Elsie, to claim her as his bride. After Elsie’s heartbroken entreaty, “Leonard, my loved one,” Elsie turns around and elatedly recognizes Leonard/Fairfax. But neither she nor Fairfax moves toward one another! As Fairfax and Elsie are about to embark on their new life together, a refulgent, amethyst sunrise welcomes the two reprieved innocents.

Despite these minor criticisms, MITG&SP has surpassed their customary high standard to yield a memorable, moving rendition of what is arguably Gilbert & Sullivan’s finest operetta.

Ah, well.

This is the shop for it!

2005-07-21T05:43:00.000+01:00

I'm watching the RLOS Patience from last March. I was Bunthorne, and this is only my second time seeing the video.

I'm very pleased to say that this is the first time ever I've watched film of myself and been generally pleased. There are always things to nitpick, but this was a performance I'm proud of.

I wonder if this means I'm near the end of the first stage of my amateur performing career -- I've been doing shows since 1997, and during the eight years since then, I've improved, in my own judgment, in each consecutive show. I haven't stopped learning and growing and improving, but it will not be a disappointment if my next role isn't better than my Bunthorne or my Jack Point was. That's sort of an exciting thought.

I guess Pirates in Buxton will be a good time to see if I can step up again. I've been studying dialogue -- Major-General Stanley has less spoken dialogue than I'd realized; he only speaks in two scenes. So I'm close to 100% on that now. I also need to spend a little more time with the music -- particularly some of the harmony lines in the Act I Finale.

As they know we object

2005-07-19T19:20:00.000+01:00

Here's the promised picture of my costume for 'Ducal pomp' and the Act II Finale. I really like it; the women are all in beautiful gowns, and the chorus is beautiful and impressive-looking.

We got news yesterday that the Houston Chronicle classical music reviewer is too busy to review our show. That definitely sucks a lot; the review usually helps out our second weekend's ticket sales, and I think that the principals deserve to be exposed to that sort of professional criticism.

I'm enjoying the performances, and the company, etc., but I'm much less into this Gondoliers than I generally have been for previous shows. Several reasons suggest themselves: Burn-out -- I've been doing shows pretty much non-stop for the past year (seven since last July), and I'm tired. Chorus -- I've been doing a lot of the 'bigger and better' things lately, and it's a tad disappointing to be back in a chorus (even one as good as this one). And this is a particularly boring show in which to be in the men's chorus. Gondoliers -- I'm pretty sure this is my least favorite G&S. The pacing is terrible, and the dialogue goes on much too long. Let-down -- I just finished Jack Point; pretty much anything else is going to pale in comparison. But all said, the show is worthwhile, and I'm glad I'm doing it.

And it's good for me to do chorus work. There are some skills involved that might get rusty if I didn't have a chance to practice them. There are the obvious ones, like ensemble singing, blending, moving in precision, etc.; but there are also less obvious chorus skills, like stage listening and improvised silent stage conversation with neighbors. And of course, there's that delicate balance between being boring and upstaging. It's a challenge to create chorus characters, too.

One of the favorite bits of business that I've developed for this show starts in the Act I Finale, then continues through the first half of Act II. The chorus rushes on to find the two couples dancing, and asks them what's up. Marco and Giuseppe explain that they're a king, and the chorus is not pleased. My character is especially displeased, and he's shocked and insulted that they're going around trying to bribe their friends with positions of authority. He adamantly vows (silently, to his partner) that he'll never stand for this -- and at just that point, Giuseppe gestures to him with the line, "the Lord High Bishop, Orthodox". My character immediately comes around, and talks about it's great that everyone will be equal, and brags about getting to be a bishop.

In Act II, however, he ends up as NOT THE BISHOP! He's very bitter about it, and he is mistrustful of Marco and Giuseppe -- and he's very resentful of the tenor chorister who does wear the bishop's hat.

It is, it is, a glorious thing

2005-07-15T18:35:00.000+01:00

I'm happy to announce that I'll be playing Major-General Stanley in the Young Artistes Pirates! It's the last afternoon of the festival, and I'm super-excited.

Gondoliers opening weekend went well.

And now that I've introduced myself

2005-07-13T20:37:00.000+01:00

I promised this a while ago, but my computer wasn't cooperating. Here's my head shot for the Young Ambassadors program, along with the bio I sent to the festival.

Jonathan Ichikawa performs with several Gilbert & Sullivan societies throughout the United States. He co-founded the Rice Light Opera Society (Houston, TX) and Brown University Gilbert & Sullivan (Providence, RI). He’s also performed with the Midland Music Society (Midland, MI), the MIT Gilbert & Sullivan Players (Cambridge, MA), and the Gilbert & Sullivan Society of Houston (Houston, TX).

Jonathan appeared at the Festival last year in the choruses for the Savoynet Pirates and for the International Champion Houston Mikado, and as Bunthorne in Patience, the inaugural Young Artistes festival production. Besides Bunthorne, other favorite G&S roles are Strephon, Giuseppe, the Pirate King, and most of all, Jack Point.

When he’s not singing choruses in public, Jonathan is pursuing a Ph.D. in philosophy at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island.

Tra la lalala-la lalala-la laaaa

2005-07-13T20:19:00.000+01:00

Gondoliers final dress is tonight. The show's ready. We're pretty well polished, and I'm feeling very confident. The costumes are great. The orchestra is great. Lighting is great. Sound will be great.

Here's a picture of my Act I costume. I have a gorgeous tux in Act II -- pictures soon, I hope.

Which, for state reasons, it has been necessary to preserve

2005-07-07T23:40:00.000+01:00

P.S. to last post: I'm still sitting on one more cool piece of news!

I'll share it soon, once given the 'ok'.

Then away, we go

2005-07-07T23:38:00.000+01:00

Gondoliers opens in eight days. We're ready. We've been doing runs, and things really do seem to be in fine shape. The principals are outstanding, and we're ready to bump up to the next level when we start working with stage, orchestra, costumes, and audience next week. I've decided that Gondo is far from my favorite G&S show, but it is fun to sing. There's just too much dialogue, and some pacing difficulties. I'm curious to see how the audiences react to our production. We really do have phenomenal talent in this group.

In other news, the latest Buxton newsletter is out. I'm mentioned (and pictured!) on page 4:

And in addition, this year Pamela [Leighton-Bilik] introduces "The Young Ambassadors" progamme. This features eight yougn people who have delighted Festival audiences in previous years and who will be available for performances all around Buxton over the course of the Festival. Although mainly from the UK, the Young Ambassadors also include Justin Freind from Australia and Jonathan Ichikawa from the USA.

Other Young Ambassadors include:
Holly Strawson
Hollie Denton
Joanne Vickers
John Savournin
Gareth Edwards, and
Sharae Deckard.

There are also headshots of myself, Hollie, and Joanne, in addition to Pamela.

Glancing through the rest of the newsletter, I notice a couple of other things that look really cool:

Nick Sales will sing Hilarion with Trent on August 15.
Justin Freind (who was phenomenal, but didn't get enough chances to shine, last year as the Duke in the Young Artistes Patience) will sing Ralph in the Festival Pinafore.
Simon Butteriss will reprise Robin the G&S Company Ruddigore. He'll also sing John Wellington Wells.

Other things I notice: they have new professional sopranos to sing Aline and Rose. I'm sure they'll be excellent, but I thought that Charlotte Page as Rose last year was pretty close to perfection. The roles I requested in 'pot luck' cabarets -- Florian, Grosvenor, Giuseppe, and Don Alhambra -- are all full up. I've sent in an additional volunteer for Bunthorne and the Usher.

I leave in three weeks!

To run our little errands

2005-06-23T14:22:00.000+01:00

We've now blocked almost the entire show. We've done all of Act I, and Act II up through the Cachuca, and also "With ducal pomp". Last night we choreographed the Cachuca -- it was surprisingly intense. There's lots of work to be done, but if we can pull it off cleanly, and maintain the good music, it'll be awesome.

I was called upon to sing some Giuseppe last night. I'm still kicking myself for not reviewing the harmony line in "Two kings of undue pride". I KNEW that I didn't know it, but I just didn't bother to look at it, and then I had to sing it off-book from my chorus spot. Oh, well. At least I knew "Rising Early".

I definitely know the line in question now. Of course, I'll probably never be asked to sing it again, but at least I'll be ready. I really need to be spending more time with that dialogue, too...

I sent a headshot and a bio off to Buxton for the program. For the curious:

Jonathan Ichikawa performs with several Gilbert & Sullivan societies throughout the United States. He co-founded the Rice Light Opera Society (Houston, TX) and Brown University Gilbert & Sullivan (Providence, RI). He’s also performed with the Midland Music Society (Midland, MI), the MIT Gilbert & Sullivan Players (Cambridge, MA), and the Gilbert & Sullivan Society of Houston (Houston, TX).

Jonathan appeared at the Festival last year in the choruses for the Savoynet Pirates and for the International Champion Houston Mikado, and as Bunthorne in Patience, the inaugural Young Artistes festival production. Besides Bunthorne, other favorite G&S roles are Strephon, Giuseppe, the Pirate King, and most of all, Jack Point.

When he’s not singing choruses in public, Jonathan is pursuing a Ph.D. in philosophy at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island.

And here's my first-ever professional headshot:
Hmm. I will post my headshot later, when my computer cooperates better than it is now.

Buon giorno

2005-06-14T21:37:00.000+01:00

The past two Gondoliers rehearsals we've done full sing-throughs, so I've gotten a couple of chances to hear the numbers without the chorus. I knew before, but now I really know, we have an outstanding cast of principals. Two people who really stand out are Josh LaForce as Marco and Nancy Markeloff as the Duchess. Both are seriously nice people, and top-notch performers with professional voices. I'm not generally overly fond of "Take a pair of sparkling eyes", but Josh delivers it with such power, grace, and panache that its loveliness makes me forget how dumb it is. His final note is a special treat and a great surprise. And I generally think that "On the day when I was wedded" is one of the most regrettable G&S numbers written -- like much of Act II, it keeps the opera very slow and holds up the action. And, worse than most of the Act, it tries, and usually spectacularly fails, to be funny.

Nancy makes it funny.

I got to sing Giuseppe at rehearsal on Friday, because Dennis wasn't feeling well. We actually covered quite a lot of music -- all of the opening number, the big chorus pieces in Act II, and both finales. So I sang almost all of Giuseppe's music -- the only numbers where he has a lot to do that we didn't cover that night were "Rising early" and "In a contemplative fashion". I think I did a pretty passable job. There are still a couple of places where I don't quite understand how the harmonies fit together (for some reason I have a terrible time with the notes on the "we act in perfect unity" business), and I discovered one really hard bit I hadn't even known about. Giuseppe and Tessa have a seriously weird rhythm at the end of the Act I Finale. It will warrant some careful studying. But I got the weird and interesting notes on "mandolins tuning we lazily thrum", and I managed to do all the Italian off-book. With pretty much any other tenor as good as Josh, I'd be mortified with intimidation at the prospect of singing with him. But it was really, really fun to sing that music. Next time I'll do all of it off book.

We start blocking tonight.

On board you must be getting

2005-06-09T05:11:00.000+01:00

Well, not yet, but in not-that-long.

I bought my tickets to England today. I leave Houston at 3:55 Friday afternoon the 29th of July, and I arrive in London at 7:05 the next morning. Then I have a quick flight to Manchester, where I'll arrive at 10:05. I'll take a bus from there to Buxton.

Then, three weeks of festivaling!

I fly to London late Monday morning, the 22nd, after the closing ceremony, and have a day to hang out and see London! I've never been there before: what should I do in my 24 hours? Advice welcome. Then Tuesday I fly back to Houston, where I'll spend almost no time, because I'm going to visit my family in California, then driving back to Providence for the semester.

Now is this not preposterous!

2005-06-06T23:16:00.000+01:00

I haven't written in here in a while, but it's not because I haven't been busy doing G&S stuff -- I'm pretty much always busy doing G&S stuff. Rehearsals are now underway for the (International Champion!) Houston Gilbert & Sullivan Society Gondoliers, in which I'm chorusing and understudying Giuseppe. I'd been initially disappointed not to get a principal, but when I see the people they've cast as Giuseppe, Don Alhambra, and Antonio, (the Duke is pre-cast as Alistair Donkin) there's no way I can feel slighted. They're excellent. All told, it's an outstanding cast, and the music is coming along well. Nice to see old friends, too -- and there are a lot of new faces, so I hope to make some new friends, as well, if I can ever get over my ridiculous shyness and talk to some strangers.

The other night I was called on unannounced to sing Giuseppe in his entrance with Marco in #1. I did passably, and people applauded my on-the-spot job, but I wished I'd spent some time looking it over in advance. It wasn't close to perfect, but it was more right than wrong, and I avoided trainwrecks. I did better on the faster "we're called Gondolieri" bit than on the lyrical Italian. Surprise. Our Marco, Josh LaForce, is quite excellent and a really cool guy. A recent Bay Area transplant, from Lamplighters.

I've been reflecting a bit on how much G&S I've been doing lately, and the answer is: a lot. Here's the past twelve months:

chorus; Mikado, Houston G&S; July 2004. (and in Buxton in August)
chorus, Pirates; Buxton: Savoynet; August 2004.
Bunthorne, Patience; Buxton: Young Artistes; August 2004.
MD, emcee, various solos, "Best of G&S" concert; Brown University Gilbert & Sullivan; December 2004
Bunthorne, Patience; Rice Light Opera Society; March 2005.
Jack Point, Yeomen, MIT Gilbert & Sullivan Players; April 2005.
chorus, Gondoliers; Houston Gilbert & Sullivan Society, July 2005.

Ridiculous!

Who must needs be merry

2005-05-23T03:04:00.000+01:00

I'm getting further removed from Yeomen, but I want to get some thoughts down on Jack Point before I get any further distracted. Because of my limited G&S-watching experience, I often find myself doing things as a performer that seem obvious to me, but are considered surprising and revolutionary by those who have seen lots of traditional performances. I've been told by some that my Jack Point was somewhat unique -- I don't know what exactly I did differently from most with it, but I'd like to spend some time talking about what I did, and how I thought about the role. So here I go. Obviously, this is a record of how I played the role, and of some of my opinions about how I like the role. I value diversity and fully respect alternate decisions, etc.

This is going to be long. It won't hurt my feelings if you skip it, skim it, only read every third word, whatever.

I am twenty-three years old, and I think that that's about how old I look, too. I'm told that Jack Points are often thought of as being somewhat older. The one that I've seen before, from Trent in Buxton last summer, was much older. Mine was young -- about the same age as Elsie. This fits me as a performer in the obvious way, but it also makes sense to me: Jack Point has an excited, youthful fun to him, and his immaturity and mistreatment of Elsie is positively juvenile. An older Jack Point is too dark -- he needs to get over himself, and will have difficulty winning an audience's sympathy. He can't be too young, either, though, or his dark brooding in his first scene in Act II are hard to make sense out of. He's lived long enough to be depressed about life. I think of Jack Point as being between twenty-two and thirty-five, and immature for his age.

My voice is bigger and darker than is perhaps traditional for a patter baritone. I can patterify myself by impersonating John Reed, but I see no reason to. Obviously, actual patter songs require a lighter touch, but there's lots of non-patter music, too (the Act I duet is a good example), and I see no reason to deny musicality to the role. I treated the music as a singer, and I think that's an effective thing to do.

Jack Point is an exciting character, contrast-wise. He shows up with Elsie, mid-Act-I, bouncy and excited and with lots of bravado. I'm good at that sort of thing -- I'm good with energy on stage, and I can make my face do lots of comical, self-confident things. The scene with the Lieutenant is a great opportunity to chew on the scenery a bit. Setting this up really helps give point to his eventual crumble.

There's lots of room for disagreement about Point's relationship with, and attitude toward, Elsie. My thinking is that he has to care deeply about her, or the ending doesn't make sense, and although there's no denying that he's sometimes a jerk to her and is never anything like kind, I think this has to be the least malicious kind of thoughtlessness. Jack Point is the type who has trouble expressing sincere emotion, and he doesn't realize that he is being insulting or causing pain. After the "there is a limit to my folly" line, my Jack Point flashed Elsie his biggest smile: "you know I'm only joking, darling, aren't I cute?", oblivious to the fact that he's not really being very nice at all.

(Jumping to Act II on sort of the same theme -- after she chews him out for being so callous about Fairfax's death, my Jack Point is flustered and sorry and is feeling awkward, preparing to nerve himself to actually say something comforting, when Fairfax asks him to embellish the story. It is a welcome distraction to my Jack Point, who gets to return to his safe 'performer' persona.)

And his feelings for her are very sincere. I put a warm, loving voice and smile and glance at Elsie into "men and women marry every day", interrupting the performance with a brief genuine moment. Very brief indeed -- the very next words, "with none to say 'oh, the pity of it'..." were right back to form, without a glance back at her. But he's hopeless at wooing, just as Fairfax says. In Act II my Jack Point starts well with a straightforward "now Elsie, thou art free to choose again", but on "behold me", he turns away from her to face the audience and strikes a ridiculous attempt at a heroic pose. The audience always laughed at that moment; it always struck me as very sad.

I had a hard time figuring out what to do with the scene near the beginning of Act II with Shadbolt. The lines are very, very dark. At first, I just tried playing them heavy, heavy, heavy, but it wasn't quite settling. During dress rehearsals, Garry, the director, suggested that it was getting to be too much darkness for that point in the show. I returned to the script, somewhat perplexed: how does one deliver lines like this without being painfully grim? Then I remembered the wonderful power of irony, and the scene finally made sense for me -- it was a great opportunity for some clear transition: Jack Point's humorous facade is slipping.

The scene opens with a soliloquy, and Jack Point gets to be naked for the audience for the first time in the show. He's upset, but not too far gone. There's still a wry undertone, and he is slightly amused by Hugh Ambrose #7863. But his "melancholy mumming" line is straightforward and honest. Jack Point is depressed.

Enter jailor, and JP flips like a switch. He's back in his comfort zone, but not for long. When Shadbolt tells him that he's jealous of how good Point's life is, Jack Point tries to make a joke of it, but he hits himself too close to home. It took me a while to really get comfortable with this scene, but by the end of the second weekend, it felt really good -- a mixture of irony and mirth, and half the time no one -- least of all Jack Point himself -- can tell whether he's joking or not. "When I've naught else to laugh at, I laugh at myself," and here he starts laughing to demonstrate, and keeps laughing just a little too long, to the end of his breath, such that he really does "ache for it."

This sort of back-and-forth carries into the patter song; the verses (the first four, anyway) are expressive and performer-like; the mirthful dance in between gets more forced each time. The last verse is delivered from a stand-still, and as he dances the last time, he forgets to smile. His body is dancing joyously, and his face is miserable. After he strikes his final pose, he remembers his face, and he smiles emphatically from the nose down.

Once he hatches his plan, he's back to his Act I self. He thinks he's back in control over the situation, and he is back in control over his demeanor. This carries into the "arquebus" scene, where he is in absolutely top mirthful form. The following scene, the one including "A man who would woo a fair maid" was, to me, the key to the show. My Jack Point was so eager, so ambitious, and so desperate to win Elsie -- one thing I was going for in that scene was 'cute' -- and so very hopeless. And by this point, it's obvious to the audience that he's not going to get her. It's tragic in the classical sense. The audience is nervous during this scene, and Jack Point is happy and hopeful and grateful to Fairfax for his help, and he's at his very most sincere. This, of course, coincides with his very most vulnerable. Of all the times to let your guard down, Jack...

Once the fragile hope and excitement is established, the dramatic part is easy. When Elsie chooses Fairfax, Jack Point falls, hard. The rest of that scene is mostly shock: he can't believe what has just happened. He delivers his music simply, straight ahead, arms down at his sides. After the quartet, he shuffles away in a daze. It's a very painful scene to imagine from Point's point of view, and I, the actor, always felt a little crushed at that point.

In the long dialogue scene that follows, the duet, and most of the Finale, Jack Point has time to understand what has happened, and the audience has had time to almost forget him, with the wedding drama. The last scene, the one I had watched in Buxton and worried that I'd never be a good enough actor to pull off, was the easiest. By this point in the show, I'd lived through Jack Point from the inside, and the emotion was easy. Sometimes I had real tears.

I haven't seen the video yet, obviously -- it will probably be at least a few months before I get to do that. So I don't know first-hand how well all of this worked. I'm really anxious to see it, actually. But it felt good. I could feel the nervousness of the audience at Jack's position. (I always relished the nervous laugh for "that's not true, but let it pass".) I could hear little intakes of breath on my final entrance in the Act II finale. People told me they were in tears. One woman told me I was "the best Jack Point she'd seen since Martyn Green". (I don't know how many she's seen in the interim. Maybe none.)

The one biggest insight for me, I think, was to establish a huge contrast between up and down. A dramatic fall is so very much easier, once the audience sees you so emphatically mirthful and youthful and energetic. Two thirds of the work is in setting that up -- if it's set up high enough, then simply taking that away can be dramatically effective.

I loved this role, and I can't wait to do it again.

Welcome to our hearts again

2005-05-19T05:26:00.000+01:00

I had lofty plans of writing about my interpretation of Jack Point tonight, but I'm too tired. I drove from Ann Arbor to Memphis today... tomorrow I drive to Houston. (I started in Providence last week, and spent the weekend in Toronto... I'm ready to land for a good while now.)

So that'll have to wait. But I do have a piece of news: I'll be directing Iolanthe with BUGS next fall! Lots of thinking/immersing/researching/etc. to follow this summer.

Iolanthe is the only G&S show I've directed to date; I did it for RLOS in 2003. I'd've liked my second go to be a different show, but hey, this is just how things worked out. And I do love Iolanthe...

My soul has gone out into it

2005-05-09T18:12:00.000+01:00

Really, this time.

Yeomen is over and it was amazing. I can't wait for my next chance to do Jack Point. About seven people came to me after Sunday's show and told me they were in tears at the end.

Lots more to follow. Busy now.

Useless his dungeon key!

2005-05-08T06:10:00.000+01:00

I'm writing Saturday afternoon, after a show on Thursday and a show on Friday. We've another show tonight, and a final show Sunday matinee. (I don't know when I'll be able to post this.) Thursday's show was a little funny, because we didn't have a pick-up rehearsal, so things were just slightly uncertain. Blocking, lines, etc., were just rusty enough to keep us on edge. I made a mistake with the blocking in the precarious "head over heels" trio, but happily, things sorted themselves out ok. The audience was quite small but very responsive. (Thanks to Audrey and Mirele for coming up from Providence to see me, and for being GREAT audience members. I think the two of them were close to have the volume level.) I also got one of the best compliments I've ever received after Thursday's show -- a woman who'd been sitting in the front row told me that I'm the best Jack Point she's seen since Martyn Green! (I didn't ask her who all she'd seen, but still.)

Friday, last night, the audience was much, much bigger. The biggest yet, by far. Probably we haven't had any other audience half as big (although we expect a large crowd again tonight). My parents were in the audience last night, having flown out from California to see me. Somehow, though, the energy was very strange last night, at least from my point of view. There were several little awkward bits. I paused after "we are merry folk, who would make all merry as ourselves!", waiting for "hands off, unmannerly fellow". Two beats later, I remembered that my line wasn't finished yet. Then, in my scene with the Lieutenant, I skipped the "rhyme you extempore" sentence of my speech about how funny I am. Neither is really a big deal, in the grand scheme of things, but still, it's weird that I'm doing things like that, and it kept my energy slightly weird throughout the first act. (Act II was much better -- one of the best yet, from my point of view.)

There were people standing up during the curtain call! I have the last bow, and I entered after Elsie's bow, and I saw the people standing there, and it was really exciting. I took my bow, and I didn't notice (partially because I was bowing) but I was told afterward that some people chose that moment to rise to their feet. Mmmm, standing ovation.

Ok, two more shows. I'll be sad when it's over. (When's my next Jack Point?)

For my part, I consent

2005-05-03T01:19:00.000+01:00

Well, confirmation has come sooner than I'd thought it would, and I'm now free to announce that I will be appearing in the Savoynet Iolanthe! Diana, the director, has asked me to play an Usher for the House of Peers.

Hurrah!

To return to my place

2005-05-02T18:39:00.000+01:00

I interrupt this constant stream of Yeomen updates to announce to the world that I will be in Buxton for the G&S Festival this August! I've been invited to perform with the Young Ambassadors, which is a new group that will perform throughout the whole festival! I'll also audition for the Young Artistes Pirates, and I've received word about another relatively small but fun and exciting opportunity that I may have, which I'll post about if and when things are more solid.

I'm coming back to Buxton!

Have pity on my lonely state

2005-05-02T14:40:00.000+01:00

Two more shows down, and things have continued to improve. Saturday night and Sunday matinee, both, went without any major problems. Bob and Colleen and I have been working hard every day on rehearsing the Act I "Head over heels" trio, and we finally managed to nail it in performance on Sunday. We'd gotten through it ok before, but Sunday was the first time that Bob and I actually kept up the back and forth thingy as written throughout the whole number.

Lots of things are clicking in the exciting way that things sometimes click. I finally have a good handle on the bag of tricks I play with in my scene with the Lieutenant. The lines and music are both quite comfortable. And I'm starting to really throw myself into the acting in Act II. I had actual tears for the collapse on Sunday. It's an amazingly rewarding experience.

My favorite moment of the run so far was when I entered during the Act II finale yesterday. During the quiet bit between "unalloyed" and "oh thoughtless crew", I entered and reminded the audience that Jack Point still exists, and it was the smallest thing, but I heard one audience member -- female, I think, but one can't be sure -- give a sharp intake of breath. Pity and shock, I think, and it was tiny, and may not have even been related to me, but it helped me really feel like I was connecting with the audience for my drama in a way similar to the way I'm used to connecting with them for my comedy.

I love this role.

My best conundrum wasted!

2005-04-30T17:13:00.000+01:00

We opened last night, and things went very well indeed. The orchestra sounded great. Drewbob and I didn't rush on our duet. Drewbob and I didn't drag on our duet. I sang my patter verses in the correct order. I properly delivered the line, "good evidence THAT none may gainsay". The mechanics of my collapse were good, and I was more or less appropriately relaxed. Other stuff was excellent, too. "Strange Adventure", notably, was sublime. All told, it was a fine show, and we're all proud of it.

It wasn't perfect, of course. We failed to stay on track for the last set of head over heelses, and the Lieutenant and I ended up singing together at the end, which also confused our blocking. I fumbled around a tiny bit with some of my words in the scene with Wilfred. And the Lieutenant skipped the cue for the "kissing the kitchen wench" joke -- my best conundrum wasted, indeed!

I love when we add the audience to the mix. What a thrill to suddenly have people to play to. It makes the humor much, much easier, and the pathos much more pathetic. I have done very little actual serious dramatic acting before, having stuck mostly to comic Gilbert & Sullivan and musical theater, and a few straight plays back in the day before I could sing. The audience with unhappy acting gives me a giant and exciting new level to work with. Who knew that absolute silence from the audience could be a good -- a wonderful -- thing?!

We all feel pretty great about the show. Six more to go!

Yes, it is a big one!

2005-04-30T17:10:00.000+01:00

Lots more pictures, from Thrusday's dress rehearsal. Here's the Act I Finale:

And here's everything else.

Here we are at last

2005-04-29T20:05:00.000+01:00

Well, we open tonight. Final dress last night was a somewhat stressful experience; I didn't feel as comfortable with some of the material -- mostly music -- as I'd like to for a final dress. No trainwrecks, but a few blips that set one on edge. We had a few unrehearsed substitutes in the orchestra last night, because of conflicts for the regular performers. There were a few confusing moments, but things were basically held together.

Basically, I'm nervous and excited and ready to have an audience that will hopefully laugh when I do funny things, and be sad and maybe cry when sad things happen to me. As it should be, five hours before opening.

I crashed in Boston last night, and got up early and drove home. I had breakfast, then went back to bed until 1:30 in the afternoon. God, did I need that -- I feel more rested than I've felt in several weeks.

I'm off to a voice master class, then to Cambridge for the show.

Now observe!

2005-04-28T13:44:00.000+01:00

We had a camera set up taking automatic pictures at dress rehearsal last night. Check 'em out, if you like.

If the casting vote's with me...

2005-04-26T14:59:00.000+01:00

Well, it's Tuesday morning, and Yeomen opens Friday night. That's three days from now. I was away at a philosophy conference over the weekend, and wow, did I miss some drama. The long and the short of it is, we have a new Elsie Meynard. The old one missed some rehearsals the staff wasn't planning on her missing, and they were worried about how well she did or did not know her material, so late last week, they asked Colleen to step up from the chorus. Colleen spent the weekend studying very intently, and last night we did a full run with orchestra and new Elsie. It was our first of three chances to run things with her before opening night. (Tonight's rehearsal is mostly for tech -- a sort of hybrid dress rehearsal and cue-to-cue.)

So how's Colleen? She's awesome. She brings drama and intensity and pathos and a damn fine voice. She's got most of the music under her belt for the weekend, and she has a completely adequate handle on her blocking and choreography. Dialogue is passable -- she could get through a performance without a trainwreck at this point, and she's working hard on whittling down that gap between 'close enough' and 'dead letter perfect'. And her acting is excellent. Playing Act II as Jack Point last night actually made me want to cry myself... seeing Fairfax take advantage of her like that, and seeing her melt in his hands and forget so completely about her former companion...

Last-minute casting drama is certainly frightening and traumatic and stressful and many other things. But in this case, the result is very exciting. Three more days...

A most intense young man

2005-04-19T02:27:00.000+01:00

I think, at least on a good day, that I am a good enough actor to play Jack Point. It's a challenge -- my biggest challenge to date -- but I do feel up to it.

I also think that I am a good enough singer to play Jack Point. His music is not particularly vocally challenging. It's easier to sing, for example, than Bunthorne's music. Some of it is tricky and complex, as in the Act I trio, but this just requires focus and hard work, not excellent vocal technique. The Act II patter song is one of the toughest in the cannon, but that just requires excellent diction and stamina; a mediocre singer can be a very good patter-er.

So my singing and acting is ok. One might think that'd be enough, but it's not. And this time, it's not the usual culprit of dancing that is throwing me off. None of my dancing is particularly involved, and I really do feel comfortable with it. I'm good enough dancer to play Jack Point, too.

What I am not a good enough example of, I grieve to discover, is a stunt man. Over two nights of rehearsal, choreographer Nina and I spent some sixty minutes of practicing the mechanics of Jack Point's end-of-Act-II-finale collapse. And, well, I'm a slow learner. Apparently, the key is to relax all of my muscles as I fall -- thigh, side, and especially neck. And the thing about my muscles is, they don't relax. I've sort of always been aware that I'm a tenser-than-average person, but it took Nina's friendly but incredulous stares at my repeated dismal failings to relax to make it clear to me just how shocking my unrelaxability is.

The repeated pattern: Nina would show me a way to fall. I'd try, but be too tense to look natural. She'd chide me about relaxing, and I'd try again, focusing on relaxing. It'd feel slightly better, but look not at all better. Repeat a couple of times, then switch to a simpler fall and repeat the whole process. Switch to a safer fall. A fall that disguises my tense neck. At one point I hit my head on the ground, and Nina said, shocked, "it's not physically possible to hit your head from that position."

This is all sort of funny, but I hate not being good at things. I'm still working on it.

A source of innocent merriment

2005-04-16T21:00:00.000+01:00

I just saw the BUGS (Brown University Gilbert & Sullivan) performance of The Mikado. Another Brown grad student, Dan Grollman, and I founded BUGS last fall in response to the dearth of Gilbert & Sullivan at Brown. We did a G&S revue concert at that time, and this spring they did a staged Mikado. I was sorry not to participate in that one, but I just couldn't say no to Jack Point, and I didn't have time for both. As the overture began for today's matinee, I had some rather severe nostalgia -- three years ago, the last time I founded a university G&S group, the Rice Light Opera Society premiered with a Mikado in Houston. My good friend Emily, who was the music director for that production, had been planning to come with me to see this Mikado, and I missed her.

The show was fun. They'd actually managed to put a real orchestra together, which is no mean feat. Sam Baltimore, who did Despard and the Pirate King in our concert last semester, conducted quite well. His job was made difficult by the fact that the cast had no way to see him conducting, so he had to keep everything together with less help from the singers than is ideal, but it all worked out.

The key word for the afternoon was talent. (Key word #2 was another good one: enthusiasm.) With the leads they had, this was a production that it would have been difficult to screw up. Zander Ebin was a heroic Nanki-Poo: his expressions were thoughtful and gentle, and his voice clear, clean, and powerful, but not at all forced. A real pleasure to watch and listen to. And Michelle Menard's Yum-Yum was nothing short of outstanding. Her voice was light and clear and beautiful, and if I closed my eyes, I could've believed that I was listening to a recording of Valerie Masterson. I don't know if Michelle has done much Gilbert & Sullivan before, but I emphatically hope that she does it lots more in the future. She was darling on stage, too, and the pair made a wonderful couple. (As is rarer than it should be, one could actually believe in this production that there was youthful sexual attraction between the leading couple.) They did the full two-verse version of their duet, which I usually find a little too long for my taste, but I was glad for the additional chance to listen to Michelle.

Leila Chakravarty and Audrey Kitteredge completed the very cute girls' trio as Pitti-Sing and Peep-Bo, respectively. Mirele Davis was to have been Peep-Bo, but had suddenly to leave town for family business, and so Audrey stepped in quite expertly. I love the scene immediately before the madrigal.

Ko-Ko was played VERY enthusiastically by Hoy Loper. Hoy has a couple of the most expressive eyes that I've ever seen on stage. He was clearly enjoying his role more than a little bit, as a good Ko-Ko will. His character's nervous energy was taken to a new level, mostly to good effect. There were a few times when I felt that his dialogue got a little rushed, and a couple of his nice lines were almost thrown away. But this was definitely a young man who has what it takes to be a G&S patter-man. One thought that I had several times this afternoon: I'd love to see him as Bunthorne. Ko-Ko had some cute business in this production of being very, very squeamish with his snickersnee -- a couple of times, he began to draw it, for effect, and was frightened by the sight of the blade.

Michael Ennis's Pooh-Bah was sensitive and traditional. Pooh-Bah's lines are very funny, and Michael delivered them in a way that allows the audience to recognize that they are funny. (I read over that last sentence, and it occurs to me that it might look to some like a delicate non-compliment; a polite, uncontentful assessment, designed to avoid having to offer substantive criticism. That's not the case -- to my mind, this is a very high compliment, and something that more performers should strive for.)

The original Pish-Tush in this production had to back out at a relatively late date, leaving the production with a need to call in an emergency substitute Pish-Tush. (I considered it, but was too busy.) Yael Richardson was the one who eventually stepped in. Yael was an unconventional Pish-Tush because she is a mezzo instead of a baritone. But she delivered her song in her own octave quite expertly and clearly. One misses the baritone timbre, but Yael's performance was excellent, given the circumstances. She actually sang Pish-Tush's line in the Act I trio in its original octave! And she sang Nanki-Poo's line in the madrigal, while Zander dropped down to the Pish-Tush line. (In the case of the madrigal, I do wish that they'd used a Go-To. Yael performed very well, but it's just not the same without SATB.)

Jessica Marquardt's Katisha was dramatic and effective. Her voice doesn't exactly have the contralto ring that one is used to in a Katisha (that ring is VERY rare among college students), but Jessica was nevertheless commanding in the role. I enjoyed the cute bit of business in the Act I Finale, where on "these arms shall thus enfold you", she embraced Nank-Poo, smothering Yum-Yum between them. Jessica was also effective in her more tender moments -- I found the decision to have her sing "the hour of gladness" directly to Nanki-Poo to be fascinating. (Unfortunately, there was a bit of distracting business in the background.)

One thing that I found jarring in this production: everyone pronounced the name "Koh-ti-sha".

Jordan Elkind's Mikado was very funny. One thing I haven't mentioned yet: the production was done in an anime style, with men in suits and crazy spiky hair, and girls in sailory-looking suits with skirts and high socks. I don't really know much anime, but I recognized the sort of flamboyant stock villain, with a dramatic white suit and long blonde hair. Very effective. I did miss the sort of rivalry between Katisha and the Mikado, though -- in this production, they were *extremely* friendly with one another.

A couple of general observations: the chorus was extremely energetic and enthusiastic, which was wonderful to see. With more focused energy, it could have been even more effective than it was; things occasionally felt frantic.

A personal pet peeve -- there was some paraphrasing of Gilbert. There are some G&S nuts out there (*ahem*) who know most of the words to every show. And especially in a case like Mikado, people will know if you've missed a line. And some of the most famous lines are more important still -- twice, today, I heard about "corroborative detailed, intended to ADD artistic verisimilitude..."

But all told, I had a really nice time. Great group, some really excellent people, and a very fun production. The entire audience seemed really to be enjoying it, myself included.

BUGS is obviously doing well, and I'm very pleased about that, and I hope to be more involved with them in future years.

But 'twould be an error

2005-04-14T20:54:00.000+01:00

At Yeomen rehearsal last night, we ran the first half Act II, which included several scenes that we haven't worked very much. It was only the second time ever we'd gone over the "Cock and Bull" duet, and DrewBob and I had both forgotten a good chunk of our choreography. Nina helped us to get it back, though, and by the end of the night, it was looking pretty good. DrewBob is very funny. Throughout, I (Point) show him (Wilfred) various jesterly tricks, and he's slow to catch on. It's very cute.

Also, let me just say, Jack Point has an ABSURD amount of talking to do. Monologues, dialogues, dialogue segments where he just ignores everybody else and proceeds to speak as if it were a monologue... I'd studied the lines extensively on the train on the way up, but I had an awful time with them at rehearsal. Is this one "unjailerly" or "jailer-like"? "Perish, starve, pine... no, wait, DWINDLE, perish..." (Symmetry helps on that one: DPSPD: dwindle, perish, starve, pine, and die. But I'm not cerebral enough to be able to recall patterns like that while I'm on stage trying to remember my blocking at the same time.) Take heart and smile, take heart and be merry, I'm heart-broken, not broken-hearted...

I still have a lot of work to do. It got better by the end of rehearsal... but I still have a lot of work to do.

Very well, I agree

2005-04-06T23:23:00.000+01:00

I told Houston G&S that yes, I would do chorus plus Giuseppe understudy. From what I hear, it's going to be a first-rate group.

Only it's -- it is disappointing

2005-04-05T07:39:00.000+01:00

I got my phone call from the Houston Gondoliers today. Chorus and understudy to Giuseppe. When I look at the particular people they cast above me, it's pretty hard to feel slighted, but that doesn't stop me from being a little sad. c'est la vie.

Philosophers may sing

2005-04-03T01:37:00.000+01:00

...but can this one sing well enough?

The Houston Gilbert & Sullivan Society has just listened to my audition for their summer production of The Gondoliers. I had to tape an audition for them, because I'm not in Houston right now. I will be utterly thrilled and ecstatic if I get Giuseppe, and very pleased if I get Antonio, and somewhat disappointed if I do not get any principal. Still competition, though, so I know that's a perfectly live possibility. Wish me luck -- I should hear in the next week or so, I'd think.

Thanks to Emily for playing piano and coaching me for my audition. Thanks to Joe for helping compile the tape, and for physically submitting it.

And my soul has gone out into it

2005-03-30T03:58:00.000+01:00

Patience is over. It was an incredible and intense experience, comparable to my time at Buxton last summer in emotional intensity and reward. The final two performances, last Friday and Saturday, felt to me to be among the best two performances of my life. (I'm young enough that it's disappointing for the current show to be less than the best performance of my life, but it still feels GOOD when I feel like I achieve it.) I'm withholding final judgment until I can see the video.

Wonderful crowds the final two nights. They were very eager to laugh, and I had to pause between lines many, many times. I finally figured out a good ending to the "Hollow, Hollow, Hollow" scene that actually gave the audience a chance to applaud -- it was really as simple as pausing a bit longer and asking Angela to wait a couple more beats before her next line. I wish we'd thought of it sooner than Friday night, but we got two good instances of it in.

I'd like to rave a bit about the wonderful people I worked with, but I'm exhausted now, and am also in the middle of a Yeomen rehearsal! For now, all I will say is that Patience was an amazing experience. If someone asked me to do something under those circumstances again... well, I guess I'd think about it. And that's saying a lot.

Yeomen update: Jack Point has a TON of dialogue!

Buxton update: I had all but decided not to go, when the Iolanthe cast was announced without me. But now it turns out I have another exciting opportunity with a new program, and I'm thinking it over. I may head back for Buxton 2005 after all. I'll be deciding soon.

Hear me, hear me if you please

2005-03-24T17:43:00.000Z

(See me, too!)

Patience last weekend was awesome. I flew back to Providence Sunday morning for school, etc., and also for a Yeomen rehearsal Monday (we blocked the scene from "Here's a man of jollity" through the "Head over heels" trio). I'm back in Houston now for the second and final weekend of Patience. Check it out online! Tonight, Friday, and Saturday, 8:00 U.S. Eastern time. Details here.

In other news, I attended the sing-through last night for the Houston G&S Gondoliers. Auditions are next weekend when I'll be in Providence, so I'm making a video audition tomorrow morning. I'm aiming high for Giuseppe -- we'll see what happens.