On 18/07/2015 02:24, Terry wrote:
> You say that no two Savoy scores sound quite like one another, yet it is not all that unusual for directors to lift a song from one opera and use it in another. Mostly, Sullivan's gestures towards atmosphere are pretty perfunctory whent they exist at all: perhaps a sea shanty for Pinafore, but nothing much to evoke Venice, for example.
I recall that Joseph Papp (where is he now?) inserted the patter trio
from 'Ruddigore' into his 'Pirates' adaptation. He changed the words (as
the original text didn't fit the Papp context) ... yet the piece still
seemed completely out of place! I'm not aware of any other professional
production having done anything of the kind.
I took care to say that the patter songs, for example, are musically
generic. So is most operatic writing. But it doesn't take much, from
skilled musical dramatists such as Verdi or Sullivan, to alter the mood.
Only three or four numbers in 'Simon Boccanegra' have the unique 'tinta'
or musical atmosphere with which Verdi invests his score - it only takes
a few flecks to "layer-in" the special atmospheres, which we'd agree
both composers work in to their scores.
>
> The fact remains that with one exception, the Sullivan characters remain unchanged from beginning to end of their operas. That duet from Pirates is certainly gorgeous, and as I said before, there is no shortage of gorgeous songs (and duets). It's fascinating that you and Willem choose The Sun Whose Rays as a prime example of character development. If you are correct in assigning deep meaning to the line beginning "I mean to rule the Earth...", then Sullivan is not supporting you. He sets it as a simple, strophic song, with the two stanzas identically harmonised and orchestrated, and no musical observation. If you like that line, you need to thank Gilbert, not Sullivan.
Many more than one, of course, as we have seen. But we must not allow
ourselves to repeat that character development is the only way drama is
created (in opera or anywhere else). Satirical drama, in particular,
simply doesn't work that way. And I've talked about how drama works in
an opera such as 'Ivanhoe' - or indeed 'Boris Godunov', another work
which is about historical movements, not character-in-action. Who
"changes" in that work? Not Boris, for sure, who begins his Coronation
scene with "My soul is sad", a self-perception which is amplified but
not changed by his (remarkably few) later appearances. Nor even Dmitri,
who is the same angry, arrogant and slightly gauche character in Poland
and Kromy as he was in Pimen's cell. Pushkin's point, and Mussorgsky's,
is that political *context* can make a static character be differently
perceived: it is a cynical truth about the nature of society.
I'd also question your implication that strophic songs somehow preclude
drama. They are a staple gambit, in straight theatre (Shakespeare) as
much as opera, to provide something much deeper than mere amusement.
Think of Popova's song in 'The Bear', or Mack the Knife in 'The
Threepenny Opera', for starters.
The duet from 'The Gondoliers' which I mentioned is an example of how
Sullivan uses strophic form most subtly: the alteration and
intensification of Casilda's melodic line in the second verse has
enormous impact, by stretching the rule. It's almost overwhelming in
context. I've no problem letting Gilbert share the credit, but by
themselves they're less than half the story.
'The sun whose rays' is well worthy of analysis. The words taken in
isolation are perfectly neat and fine, but it is Sullivan's setting
which makes that line ("I mean to rule the earth...") so unforgettable.
Unusually, this particular strophic song reaches its peak, not in the
customary first or last phrase, but here - in the very centre of the
verse, at "noon" if you like - as Yum Yum is given the two, wide-arching
phrases we all know so well, culminating in the highest note in the
score, the top G on "we really know our *worth*..." This is mirrored in
the 'Moon' verse ("we're very wide *awake*) which franks and emphasises
the 'Sun' climax.
The arch of the phrases, like the over-arching melodic shape of the
whole verse, climaxing at "noon" and with a dying fall, mirrors the
ascent and descent of the heavenly bodies. Strophic it may be, simple it
may not be, dramatic it certainly is. So, I would completely refute the
idea that Sullivan has no part in this: he turns Gilbert's neat words
into a memorable, essentially vocal piece of dramatic art.
This is 'dramma per musica' just as surely as Verdi's (strophic) "ah
fors'รจ lui" for Violetta.
> Don't get me wrong -- I love the Savoy operas and have performed in several of them, with great enjoyment (by me, at least!) The OP posed the question "Do you find that other compositions by Sullivan work as well as the G&S?", and I think that the answer is No, mainly because Gilbert's libretti kept him well within his comfort zone as a composer.
I'd put it the other way round: Gilbert was the only librettist who took
him *out* of that comfort zone. He responded to the challenge of
Gilbert's much superior quality, and rose to it magnificently. The
others, such as Sturgis, Pinero and Hood, gave "our great composer" too
easy a time, and Sullivan was (alas) a lazy man who needed someone to
push - and even goad him - into giving his best. That's why his works
without Gilbert are not quite at the level of the best Savoy Operas.