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On Saturday I saw one
of the brightest, funniest, most sparkling G’n’S performances I’ve seen even
from Edinburgh G’n’S Society. Of which opera? The one that I’ve always regarded
as the dullest, unfunniest and flattest in the canon – UTOPIA! I knew they’d
bring out the best in the show; but I never expected that even they could
accomplish the feat of making such an irresistibly enjoyable entertainment out
of the least promising opera in the G’n’S repertoire.
The new overture by
conductor David Lyle, beginning and ending with the “Princess Zara” fanfare and
expertly weaving together tunes in the manner of the other G’n’S overtures, led
into an opening chorus which, far from being lazy, languid or motionless, was
full of flying birds and funny business: as one sample, what looked like a
miniature hookah was passed round among a group of girls causing them to grow
increasingly giggly until one of them became helplessly hysterical (silently of
course!) and was escorted out. The chorus work was excellent throughout, notably
the ultra-smart Life Guards with their unison knees-up steps. An inspired gag in
the Drawing Room scene was the varying behaviour of the successive debutantes on
being presented to the King – panic, fluttering confusion, shy and decorous
reception of his embrace, and finally several of them rushing together to launch
themselves into his arms!
Simon Boothroyd made a
genial Paramount, effectively keeping some semblance of dignity in his exchanges
with the Wise Men. Ian Lawson and David McBain – the former in particular, with
his enlarged nose, jutting beard and pushy, aggressive manner – stole the show
as Scaphio and Phantis: their dancing scenes (just crazy capering, with no
attempt (such as I’ve seen) to perform actions that really did suggest
“happiness” “unselfishness” etc.) had the audience in stitches, as did their
hysterical gibbering (again, especially Scaphio) on the appearance of Zara.
Fiona Main in the latter part sang as beautifully as usual, and combined a fussy
primness with a steely determination. A nice bit of business at the outset was
her taking a graceful pose to read “Five years have flown…” as a
carefully-prepared speech, and looking petulant at the interruption when the
chorus broke into enthusiastic applause at the monumentally banal second line.
Captain Fizbattleaxe (Darren Coutts) did all that anybody could do in that part,
namely made the most of his musical numbers and got a lot of comedy from making
ardent advances to Zara which she primly kept in check. The twin princesses
(Susanne Horsburgh and Caroline Evans) were a superb comic pair, in turn
simpering, pouting, jostling, stamping and (almost) fighting outright – the
lines about their grace and decorum have never seemed so funny! Lady Sophy
(Barbara Brodie) brought some measure of warmth and pathos, as well as a voice
which has deepened over the years, to the most unpromising part of any size in
the entire canon.
Both dialogue and
lyrics were trimmed somewhat: some of the worst pieces of writing in the show
(the emphasis on the King’s humiliation, the cracker business, the appalling
“semi-transparent Being” speech, the “wind up – blow up” sequence) were cut, to
its great advantage. The familiar Act II finale was replaced by a reprise, to
new words, of the “Ah, gallant soldier” music. A lot of topical re-writes, with
pointed references to recent events, were brought in – as you would certainly
expect, in this of all operas. The words “England” and “English” were in most
cases changed to “Britain” and “British” (though the bright and beautiful girl
was still English). It may surprise you to learn that I actually didn’t think
this was an improvement, even in the capital of Scotland: we don’t mind hearing
the English being satirised, but why should we want to join them as victims of
the satire?! No harm at all, though, in the change to “To which some add, though
others do not, SCOTLAND” (as some Norteamericanos may not know, the governing
party in Scotland has independence as its aim, and a referendum on the subject
is in the planning stage) – or in the choral “Hooch aye!” after the musical
flourish which follows the words.
Alan Borthwick, in a
pre-show talk, remarked that we would probably never see UTOPIA again – not a
very fortunate remark in view of the average age of the pre-show talk’s
audience! (In the opera, too, Phantis hesitated at the line “where every youth …
Youth? … (then pointing into the auditorium as if he’d managed to spot one)
YOUTH!”) But I’ll risk a hefty bet that no matter how long we live we’ll never
see a UTOPIA that’s anything like as much fun as this one was. Congratulations,
Edinburgh!
DERRICK McCLURE
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