“We didn’t plan it this way,” MasterVoices artistic director Ted Sperling announced from the podium before launching into the second half of W. S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan’s charmingly satirical operetta Iolanthe on May 3rd, “but today is International Gilbert and Sullivan Appreciation Day.” Who knew? Sperling has been acquainted with the work since childhood and played viola in its orchestra for a summer camp production. This bit of trivia, however, eluded him and quite probably everyone else involved in or viewing his ensemble’s able concert performance of it at Carnegie Hall in the final weeks of the 2022-2023 season.
What no one could ignore was that just three days later, on May 6th, King Charles III would be formally crowned Britain’s next monarch. If His Majesty neglected to invite you to his coronation—the guest list was more than 75 percent smaller than that for his mother Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation in 1953,—or if you could not warm to the dubious culinary charms of “coronation quiche” or stomach the crowds deluging central London, catching Iolanthe in New York was a fine substitute. Indeed, there is even historical precedent—when Iolanthe premiered at the height of Gilbert and Sullivan’s popularity in 1882, it opened in both London and New York on the same night.
Given the parlous state of Britain and its monarchy these days, Iolanthe was probably also an apposite choice. Though wrapped up in a story of true love and maternal affection, the operetta mercilessly satires Britain’s convoluted parliamentary system and, even more, the hereditary principle that defines the monarchy itself. Gilbert and Sullivan did not attack the monarchy directly—either as an institution or in the person of their regnant monarch Queen Victoria,—but the House of Lords and hereditary peerage come in for quite a pasting. Notably, King Charles chose not to invite the entire peerage to his coronation, as his mother had done, but instead limited the peers to the relatively few who hold ceremonial office or occupy positions in the current government. Otherwise, the guest list was a farrago of celebrities, foreign dignitaries, decorated civil servants, and others chosen to reflect a ‘diverse’ and ‘inclusive’ Britain.
In the operetta, the fairy Iolanthe has been cast out of Fairyland by its queen to avoid a death sentence for marrying a mortal man. The condemned couple conceived a son, Strephon, whose mixed heritage has left him a man from the waist up but a fairy from the waist down. Now a young man, he is in love with Phyllis, a mortal woman who is a ward of the Lord Chancellor, the leader of the operetta’s doddering army of self-important peers. Like Rossini’s Doctor Bartolo, the Lord Chancellor has also set his sights on Phyllis, as have many of the other peers. With a little help from his mother and the other fairies, who, it is revealed, truly control the progress of English politics, Strephon gets his wish despite some misunderstandings and is united with Phyllis, whose temptation to marry a peer is diminished when it is revealed that they will from now on be admitted to the House of Lords by competitive examination thanks to a bill introduced by Strephon, who has been elected a member of the House of Commons. Amid the merriment, the Queen of the Fairies accepts the Lord Chancellor’s suggestion that the death sentence in her realm only apply to fairies who do not marry mortals. The voluptuous peers marry the fairies en masse and, realizing that their time has passed in favor of “persons of intelligence,” disappear with them into Fairyland.
House of Lords reform in the United Kingdom would not begin in practice for some 30 years after Iolanthe’s raucously popular premiere, with the removal of the chamber’s veto power in 1911. After further reform measures, ninety-two hereditary peers are still guaranteed seats in it today, while the rest are appointed for life, mostly as a form of political patronage reserved to leaders of British political parties. But as King Charles’s shrunken guest list suggests, hardly anyone respects the hereditary principle anymore, and recent antics have caused the monarchy’s popularity to slide from 70 percent in 2020 to 57 percent on the eve of the coronation, with multiple other realms preparing to end their historic ties to the British crown. Continuing to undermine his position by giving in to diversity, equity, and inclusion mantras probably will not help the new king, but if Iolanthe made these points over 140 years ago, change at the top will likely not come anytime soon.
As a performance, MasterVoices delivered a hit as good as any possible in the Gilbert and Sullivan repertoire today. Voices were amplified with microphones, which made it seem more like musical theater, but the genre falls close enough that it was not out of place. Audiences will recognize the talented soprano Shereen Ahmed, the evening’s Iolanthe, as the star of Bartlett Sher’s recent reimagining of Lerner and Loewe’s My Fair Lady. She had real star power, but was equaled by musical theater veterans Christine Ebersole, who sang the Queen of the Fairies, and David Garrison in the role of the Lord Chancellor. Both are better known for popular television roles, perhaps more lucrative employment that masked their immense stage talents. Ebersole, well remembered from 42nd Street on Broadway, was simply irresistible. Garrison did linguistic and musical backflips with the Lord Chancellor’s difficult music, including the challenging “Love, unrequited”—the patter “Nightmare Song,” which is the work’s best known solo piece. Ashley Fabian was a beguiling Phyllis. Schyler Vargas turned in a charming performance as Strephon. Santino Fontana and Jason Danieley were an entertaining duo as Lords Mountararat and Tolloller, Phyllis’s closest suitors among the peers. The excellent bass Phillip Boykin was a stentorian Private Willis, a private in the Grenadier Guards whom the Queen of the Fairies must overcome with her wiles.
Sperling led a spirited orchestral performance and directed this costumed concert performance with the enthusiasm born of lifelong love. MasterVoices does not appear to be planning any Gilbert and Sullivan next season, but it should consider exploring that repertoire as it moves on. Events in Britain might just demand it.
