Iolanthe, introduced on November 25, 1882, carried Gilbert’s love of paradox, confusion and absurdity into the fairy kingdom. To Isaac Goldberg, this comic opera, both as words and as music is “a peer among its kind. It is surprisingly complete. It is, indeed, of Gilbert and of Sullivan, all compact. The Gilbertian conflict between reality and fantasy is mirrored in details great and small—in scene, costume, in line, in gesture.... It would be difficult to find among the remaining thirteen comic operas one that reveals the collaborators playing so neatly into each other’s hands—responding so closely to the conscious and unconscious demands of the reciprocal personality.” The heroine, Iolanthe, is a fairy who has married a mortal and thus has been banished to the bottom of a stream by the Queen of her kingdom. But the Queen eventually forgives Iolanthe. Upon returning to her fairy kingdom, Iolanthe discovers she is the mother of a son, Strephon, who is half fairy and half mortal; and Strephon is in love with the mortal, Phyllis, who, in turn, is being pursued not only by her guardian, the Lord Chancellor, but even by the entire House of Peers. When Phyllis finds Strephon with Iolanthe she suspects him of infidelity, since she has no idea that Iolanthe is Strephon’s mother. Immediately she begins to bestow her kindly glances upon two members of the House of Peers. Summoned for help, Iolanthe reveals that Strephon is, indeed, her son, and that his father is none other than the Lord Chancellor. By this time the other fairies of the kingdom have succumbed to the charms and appeal of the Peers. Iolanthe is saved from a second punishment when the Lord Chancellor helps change fairy law to read that any fairy not marrying a mortal is subject to death.
Leading numbers from Iolanthe include the following: the opening chorus of the fairies, “Tripping Hither, Tripping Thither”; Strephon’s song, “Good Morrow, good Mother”; the love duet of Phyllis and Strephon, “Thou the Tree and I the Flower”; Entrance, chorus, and march of the Peers, “Loudly Let the Trumpet Bray” followed immediately by the Lord Chancellor’s monologue, “The Law is the True Embodiment”; the Lord Chancellor’s personal credo, “When I Went to the Bar”; the song of Willis, the sentry, “When All Night Long a Chap Remains”; Lord Mount Arrat’s chauvinistic hymn, “When Britain Really Ruled the Waves”; the Fairy Queen’s song, “Oh, Foolish Fay”; the Lord Chancellor’s patter song about a nightmare, “When You’re Lying Awake”; the trio of the Lord Chancellor, Mount Ararat and Tolloler, “If You Go In”; Strephon’s song, “Fold Your Flapping Wings”; and the finale, “Soon as We May.”
The Mikado was a sensation when first performed in London on March 14, 1885; and with many it is still the favorite of all Gilbert and Sullivan comic operas. By 1900, it had received over one thousand performances in London and five thousand in the United States. Since then these figures have multiplied. It has been adapted for motion pictures, and in New York it has been given in two different jazz versions (The Hot Mikado and Swing Mikado). In 1960 it was presented over television with Groucho Marx as the Lord High Executioner.
In its own day much of its appeal was due to its exotic setting of Japan and strange Japanese characters. Such a novelty for the English stage was the strong spice that endowed the play with much of its succulent flavor. Gilbert’s inspiration had been a miniature Japanese village set up in the Knightsbridge section of London which aroused and stimulated the interest of the English people in all things Japanese. Gilbert was one of those who became fascinated by this Oriental exhibit, and his fascination led him to conceive a comic opera with a Japanese background.
But while the Japanese are certainly no longer curiosities in the theater—have, indeed, become a vogue on Broadway since the end of World War II—The Mikado has never lost its tremendous popularity. For The Mikado represents Gilbert and Sullivan at their creative peak. The whimsical characters, absurd situations, the savage malice of the wit and satire, and the strange and paradoxical deviations of the plot find Gilbert at the height of his whimsical imagination and skill; and at every turn, Sullivan was there with music that captured every subtle echo of Gilbert’s fancy.
The thought of having to marry the unattractive Katisha proves so distasteful to Nanki-Poo, son of the Mikado, that he puts on the disguise of a wandering minstrel and flees. After coming to the town of Titipu, he meets and falls in love with Yum-Yum who, in turn, is being sought after by her own guardian, Ko-Ko, the Lord High Executioner. The Lord High Executioner faces a major problem. The ruler of Japan has sent a message to Titipu stating that since no execution has taken place there for many years the office of Lord High Executioner will be abolished if somebody is not executed shortly. When Ko-Ko discovers that Nanki-Poo is about to commit suicide, rather than live without Yum-Yum, he finds a solution to his own problem. Ko-Ko is willing to allow Nanki-Poo to marry Yum-Yum and live with her for a month if at the end of that time he allows himself to be beheaded. The wedding takes place, but before the beheading can be consummated the Mikado arrives on the scene with Katisha. Only then is the discovery made in Titipu that Nanki-Poo is the Mikado’s son and that anyone responsible for his death must boil in oil. The news that Nanki-Poo is alive saves Ko-Ko from this terrible fate; but he soon confronts another in the form of Katisha, whom he must now marry to compensate her for her loss of Nanki-Poo.
Many of the excerpts from The Mikado are known to anyone who has ever heard or whistled a tune. These are the most significant: the opening chorus of the Japanese nobles, “If You Want to Know Who We Are”; Nanki-Poo’s self-introductory ballad, “A Wandering Minstrel I”; Pish-Tush’s description of the Mikado’s decree against flirtation, “Our Great Mikado”; Ko-Ko’s famous patter song, “I’ve Got a Little List”; the song of Yum-Yum’s companions, “Three Little Maids”; the affecting duet of Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum, “Were You Not to Ko-Ko Plighted”; Yum-Yum’s radiant song, “The Sun Whose Rays”; Ko-Ko’s allegorical song, “Tit Willow”; the madrigal of Yum-Yum, Pitti Sing, Nanki-Poo and Pish Tush, “Brightly Dawns Our Wedding Day”; the sprightly trio of Yum-Yum, Nanki-Poo and Ko-Ko, “Here’s a How-de-do”; the song of the Mikado, “My Object All Sublime”; the duet of Nanki-Poo and Ko-Ko, “The Flowers That Bloom in the Spring.”
Patience in 1881 directed its well aimed satirical pricks and barbs at the pre-Raphaelite movement in England with its fetish for simplicity and naturalness; and with equal accuracy at poets and esthetes like Oscar Wilde and Algernon Swinburne, leaders of an esthetic movement that encouraged postures, poses, and pretenses. Twenty maidens are turned into esthetes through their common love for the “fleshly poet” Bunthorne. Because of this love they hold in disdain their former sweethearts, the officers of the Heavy Dragoon. Bunthorne, however, is in love with the simple, unselfish milkmaid Patience, who dotes after the idyllic poet of heavenly beauty, Grosvenor. Since Patience is unselfish she cannot hope to win Grosvenor’s love, for to be loved by one so beautiful is the most selfish thing in the world. She decides to accept Bunthorne. Now the twenty love-sick maidens fall in love with Grosvenor and through his influence abandon estheticism for simplicity. Unaware of this new direction in their loved ones, the Dragoons desert their uniforms for esthetic garb, substitute their former practical everyday behavior for extravagant postures and poses. Weary of the demands made upon him by the doting maids, Grosvenor (with a push from Bunthorne) becomes commonplace. But, unfortunately for Bunthorne, since it is no longer selfish to be loved by a commonplace man, Patience returns to Grosvenor. The maidens, now interested in the commonplace, can now return to their Dragoons. But poor Bunthorne is left alone with nothing but a lily in his hand to console him.
The following are the principal selections from Patience: the opening female chorus, “Twenty Lovesick Maidens We”; Patience’s simple query about the nature of love, “I Cannot Tell What This Love May Be”; the chorus of the Dragoons, “The Soldiers of Our Queen” followed immediately by the Colonel’s patter song, “If You Want a Receipt”; Bunthorne’s recipe for success in the business of being an esthete, “If You’re Anxious For to Shine”; Grosvenor’s duet with Patience, “Prithee, Pretty Maiden”; Jane’s soliloquy, “Silvered is the Raven Hair” with which the second act opens; Grosvenor’s fable to the lovesick maidens, “The Magnet and the Churn”; Patience’s ballad, “Love is a Plaintive Song”; and the gay duet of Bunthorne and Grosvenor, “When I Go Out of Doors.”
Pinafore was the first of the successful Gilbert and Sullivan comic operas in which we encounter that strange topsy-turvy world over which Gilbert and Sullivan ruled; that we confront the accidents, coincidences, paradoxes, and mishaps that beset its hapless inhabitants. Pinafore is a devastating satire on the Admiralty in general and William H. Smith, its First Lord, in particular. But it also makes a mockery of social position. Ralph Rackstraw, a humble seaman, is in love with Josephine, daughter of Captain Corcoran, commanding officer of the H.M.S. Pinafore. But the first Lord of the Admiralty, Sir Joseph Porter, is also in love with her. Since Josephine’s father would never consent to have his daughter marry one so lowly as Ralph, the lovers decide to elope. But the plans are overheard by the seaman, Dick Deadeye, who reports them to the Captain with the result that Ralph is put in irons. An impasse is thus reached until Little Buttercup, a “Portsmouth Bumboat woman,” reveals an incident of the distant past. Entrusted the care of two infants she mixed them up with the result that the lowly born child, Corcoran, was mistaken for the one of high station and was thus able to rise to the station of Captain; but the child of high station believed to have been of lowly origin, Ralph, had been forced to become a seaman. By order of Sir Joseph, Ralph now becomes the master of the ship and can claim Josephine as his bride. The proud Captain, now reduced to a seaman, must content himself with Little Buttercup.