The Mikado: Pacific Play-Out Music

The New York Gilbert and Sullivan Players have been gracing the New York stage with thoroughly delightful productions of G&S operettas for over thirty years, but their newest offering of The Mikado, perhaps the most popular music/theatre piece in the English language, soars even higher than their normally high standards. A strong-singing, comically inspired cast under the stage direction and music direction of conductor Albert Bergeret makes this gem of a production a must-see during their all-too-brief stint at City Center this week.

Premiering in 1885, The Mikado was inspired in part by the new British obsession with all things Japanese. Once trade was established between the two island empires, the most popular English fad became collecting Japanese fans, vases, screens and such. Proper English ladies were often seen attending social functions dressed in imported Japanese kimonos. So although the all-Caucasian cast of this operetta (as is the case in this production) dress as Japanese and refer to themselves as such, Gilbert's satirical point is that their manner and speech is still veddy British. The modern eye, unaware of the show's inception, may assume The Mikado to be racially insensitive, but none of the humor is ever directed at Japanese culture. As with most Gilbert and Sullivan, the darts are aimed at the British upper crust or at universal political and social mores.

The story takes place in legendary times when the Great Mikado of Japan, an eccentric and unreasonably blood-thirsty sort, has declared flirting to be a capital offense punishable by decapitation. In the town of Titipu, the citizens believe they have found their way around the law by appointing Ko-Ko, a meek little tailor who has been found guilty of flirting, as their new Lord High Executioner; the reasoning being that since he is officially the next in line to have his head chopped off, he can't very well execute someone until he has executed himself. Offended at the thought of serving alongside a lowly tailor, nearly all the town officials have resigned in protest, leaving the proud and haughty Pooh-Bah to accept all of their high positions and the salaries that go with them.

All is well in Titipu until Ko-Ko receives a dispatch from the Mikado saying that he's noticed a distinct lack of executions in his district and unless someone goes to the block soon the town will be redesignated as a mere village and the position of Lord High Executioner will be dissolved. Meanwhile, a wandering minstrel named Nanki-Poo is heartbroken because even though he has won the heart of the sweet girl named Yum-Yum, she is arranged to marry Ko-Ko. When the would-be executioner discovers the lovesick Nanki-Poo about to commit suicide, he strikes up a deal with the lad and they agree that instead of offing himself, he'll die in a ceremony at the hands of the public executioner. But Nanki-Poo, who has an interesting secret in his family background, drives a hard bargain and doesn't allow Ko-Ko to get what he wants without sacrificing a bit of something yummy.

Rarely is such beautiful music matched perfectly with such broad and hilarious antics. Sullivan's music borrows on a few Japanese motifs, but don't be surprise when these "Japanese" characters break into a sea chanty, an English madrigal or a patter flat out of British music hall. Speaking of music hall, Bergeret's brashly show-biz stage direction provides as much rowdy fun as his deft conducting of the 25-piece orchestra and 20-member chorus provides exquisite moments of beauty.

As is traditional with Gilbert and Sullivan, the script is liberally peppered with contemporary jokes; a practice the librettist was known to endorse as he knew the meaning of many of his topical references would be forgotten in years to come. Ko-Ko's famous "little list" of people who deserve to be executed now includes spammers, children who blame McDonald's for making them fat and a certain "bimbo narcissist." But unlike Broadway revivals that revise what are considered by some to be dated, creaky books, the revisions here are more a matter of replacing old references, which were anachronistic to begin with, with their contemporary equivalent.

In the lead role of Ko-Ko, Stephen Quint is a lovably nimble comic with an impeccable timing worthy of the Gilbert wit. Louis Dall'Ava, playing Pooh-Bah in an enormous fat suit, has some uproarious physical bits. As lovers Yum-Yum and Nanki-Poo, Laurelyn Wayson and Michael Scott Harris make you wonder how they can sing so beautifully with their tongues so firmly in their cheeks. Good humor and powerful vocals are supplied by Keith Jurosko in the title role and Dianna Dollman as Katisha, the mezzo after Nanki-Poo's heart. Edward Prostack, as a smarmy nobleman, Pish-Tush, and Melissa Attebury, as Yum-Yum's daffy sister Pitti-Sing, are both lots of fun. Even Robin Bartunek, in the small role of Peep-Bo, is charming in her appearances.

The company is costumed in lovely outfits by Gail J. Wofford and Kayko Nakamura. Bergeret's simple set design looks very pretty under Sally Small's lights.

With only three remaining performances this week, the New York Gilbert and Sullivan Players' production of The Mikado is a perfect antidote for anyone's post-holiday blahs. And it's a great night out even if you're feeling rather merry.

Photos by Carol Rosegg: Top: Laurelyn Wayson and Stephen Quint