PATIENCE

PATIENCE

English Touring Opera at the Theatre Royal, Norwich
03.06.2017

This sparkling G&S ends its tour here in Norwich, with its 21^st performance.
A real treat to see the piece so well revived. The score is one of Sullivan's most musical, and Gilbert's none-too-subtle satire on Aestheticism gives the designer [Florence de Maré] a chance to reference William Morris in a stylish set which incorporates a slightly awkward flight of steps and arcades affording a glimpse of statuary.
The Saturday night audience revel in the comedy, and the excellent singing, especially some of the ensemble work, like the Act Two dragoon trio and the lively quintet which follows it.
Director/Choreographer Liam Steel has a fine young cast to work with, led by Australian soprano Lauren Zolezzi as the innocent milkmaid of the title. She's unaware of her allure, and her strength, carting churns and a stone plinth with practised ease.
For this farewell performance, Susan Moore replaced Valerie Reid as the doughty Lady Jane. Her “rugged old bosom” harbours a splendid traditional contralto, and she makes a great job of her solo, accompanying herself not on a cello, but on a double bass whose generous curves echo her own.
Aled Hall is an amusingly despondent Duke, with Jan Capinski and Andrew Slater as his fellow officers. The rival poets are Bradley Travis (Bunthorne) and Ross Ramgobin  (Grosvenor),  accomplished comedians both, with an outstanding patter duet: "A most intense young man, A soulful-eyed young man, An ultra-poetical, super-æsthetical, Out-of-the-way young man". Travis is a superbly narcissistic, angular, fleshly poet, Ramgobin the picturesque man of property, idyllic poet and rich-timbred baritone, using his Grecian urn for the lottery, and having his flowing Darcy shirt ripped off him by “several” lovesick maidens.
The music is very well served by a pit orchestra under Timothy Burke; the bright, crisp sound lets Gilbert's every word be clearly heard - even the choruses - so that we were left wondering if we really needed the surtitle screens.

PATIENCE

PATIENCE

Charles Court Opera at the King's Head Theatre

19.06.2014

for Remote Goat

Through the crowded Victorian bar at the King's Head – World Cup misery on the big screens – to another, secret bar out the back . Dartboard on the wall, Adnam's on tap, totally lifelike [all credit to production designer Simon Bejer]. Only the adverts for ghoulish cocktails and poetry readings give a hint of pleasures to come, as Gilbert and Sullivan's Patience is dusted off and updated, tweaked and tactfully trimmed.

John Savournin's brilliantly bold concept takes Castle Bunthorne and rebadges it as The Castle, the village local where the eponymous Patience is the barmaid. The lovesick – sorry, melancholic – maidens are impeccably dressed a la Goth, as they sit on bar stools, knock back the spirits, and sigh and pine for the attentions of fleshly poet Reginald Bunthorne.

Sullivan's score is respectfully treated in the reduction for David Eaton's grand piano [no pub upright for him], and the singing, viscerally vivid in this intimate space, is superb throughout. The “Old Old Love” sestet just one example of melodic delight, with the manly tenor of David Menezes' Duke soaring above the rest.

David Phipps-Davis is wonderful value as a florid, self-absorbed poet – black rose, purple eye-shadow, nicely contrasted with the Greek God picturesque perfection of Henry Manning's Idyllic rival. Joanna Marie Skillett [Cinders last Christmas] is a lively, Nordic Patience. And contralto Amy J Payne [another panto survivor] is a huge hit with the audience as Lady Jane. No cello, alas, but a beautifully done “ageing” Aria, nobly resisting the crisps behind the bar.

Hilarious team-work, and perfect patter, from the Dragoons, Michael Kerry's Major and especially Giles Davies's spiffing Colonel Calverley.

Cheeky concessions to the 21^st century include Grosvenor's transformation into a “TK Maxx young man”, with melancholics Helen Evora and Andrea Tweedale becoming thoroughly modern maidens to match. Nothing too incongruous, and all in the spirit of Gilbert, who would, had he lived long enough, have very happily rhymed Sartre with Sinatra.