Gilbert and Sullivan

"The most successful operettas on the American stage during the last third of the nineteenth century were by W.S. Gilbert (1836-1911) and Arthur Sullivan (1842-1900). Scholars generally agree that the 1878 Boston premiere of HMS Pinafore marks a turning point in the history of American musical theatre. Within a year the work had become the most frequently performed operetta in the United States. (...) The format of the Gilbert and Sullivan shows - the inoffensiveness of the humor (especially in comparison with burlesque, vaudeville, or even opéra-bouffe), the witty satire at the expense of the British establishment and Sullivan's skillful melodies - appealed mightily to American audiences." (38)

- Katherine K. Preston, The Cambridge Companion to the Musical

The following is from classicfm.com (39):

10 Reasons Why We Love Gilbert and Sullivan

Though they are often unfairly dismissed as lightweight opera

composers, the music and words of W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan

are just as great as any of their heavyweight contemporaries - and

here's why.

1. Relentless tunes

Pure and simple. Have you ever tried to get "I Am The Very Model Of A

Modern Major General" out of your head after hearing it once? If you

have, you'll know it's literally impossible.

2. They were capable of unexpected poignancy

G&S were the masters of irreverent jollity, but they were also surprisingly adept at creating incredibly poignant moments. Try this sweet and sad number from the Pirates of Penzance.

3. They were essentially an odd couple

The duo were a perfect psychological study in two halves making a whole. One was prickly and gruff (Gilbert) while the other was cool and erudite (Sullivan), they both thought that their contributions were weakened by the other's, and they argued like nobody's business - but thy magically managed to create their incredible works despite their tempestuous relationship.

4. Without them we wouldn't have the Savoy Theatre

Richard D'Oyly Carte was the duo's most enthusiastic patron, going to extreme lengths in 1881 when he built the duo their own theatre, specifically to house their performances.

5. They appealed to all ages

According to this cartoon from a 1921 edition of London Opinion, anyway:

6. They inspired this Family Guy skit.

7. Gilbert was king of the one-liner

"The first time I saw you on stage I realised what a wonderful voice

you've got; I think you're so brave not to have had it trained." Zing!

8. Sullivan was a formidable composer in his own right

He might not have enjoyed quite the degree of success he would have

liked for his more 'serious' works without Gilbert, but Arthur Sullivan's

credentials are still pretty beefy. He won the Royal Academy of Music's

first ever Mendelssohn Scholarship and composed symphonies, operas

and parlour songs throughout his long career.

9. They were class warriors

Well, Gilbert was anyway. Sullivan was apparently a little nervous of the

whole class issue. Many of Gilbert's libretti feature paupers being elevated to positions of power and kings and general being reduced to shells of their former importance which, given their own hoity-toity social standing, was quite brave.

10. They ended their partnership because of some carpet

Perhaps it wasn't the most ignoble of exits, but it's still gone down in legend. An argument over who should pay for the installation of a new carpet at The Savoy Theatre during the budgeting process of The Gondoliers. What should have been a simple renegotiation turned into a thoroughly nasty legal argument between the two. They collaborated only twice more, but both productions were by no means successful.

If you would like to see a wiki with multiple links to performances of Gilbert and Sullivan by muppets, click here.

And here is a music video of Sir-Mix-A-Lot's "Baby Got Back" reimagined in the style of Gilbert and Sullivan.

How are Gilbert and Sullivan operettas different from other comic operas and musical comedy?

"Despite the wit of the operas, their thematic substance is generally not comic. In fact, in nearly all of the operas, the most effective points are serious moments as often as funny ones. The operas are at bottom a series of powerful, very human stories whose themes are as universal as their parody and satire are dated, and it is this fact that I think accounts for the operas’ longevity. (...) These are, for the most part, serious works, not musical comedies but comedies in the Shakespearean sense."(40)

"The biggest problem with The Mikado is that it’s the most famous and most widely performed of the Savoy operas. As a result, it’s the opera most people think of when they think of Gilbert & Sullivan— which is a pity, because while it is arguably their best opera, it is far from typical. Extrapolating from the opera they know best, many people jump to insupportable assumptions about the Gilbert & Sullivan operas as a whole— and, in particular, assume that the least serious of all the mature operas is representative of what they take to be a string of frivolous works." (40)

- Gayden Wren, Most Ingenious Paradox: The Art of Gilbert and Sullivan

The Mikado

"First produced on 14th March, 1885 at the Savoy Theatre, London, with Richard Temple as The Mikado, Rosina Brandram as Katisha, Durward Lely as Nanki-Poo, Leonora Braham as Yum-Yum, George Grossmith as Ko-Ko and Rutland Barrington as Pooh-Bah." (41)

Plot Summary:

The following is from freewebs.com. Please see the Works Cited page for more info.

Nanki-Poo, the son of the royal mikado, arrives in Titipu disguised as a peasant and looking for Yum-Yum. Without telling the truth about who he is, Nanki-Poo explains that several months earlier he had fallen in love with Yum-Yum; however she was already betrothed to Ko-Ko, a cheap tailor, and he saw that his suit was hopeless. However, he has since learned that Ko-Ko has been condemned to death for flirting; and he has come to find Yum-Yum, his true love. Nanki-Poo’s high hopes are dashed once more when Pish-Tush, a noble lord, informs him that Ko-Ko was reprieved and raised to the rank of lord high executioner. Pooh-Bah, first lord of the treasury, lord chief justice, commander-in-chief, etc., enters next, and he also holds out no hope for Nanki-Poo. Then Ko-Ko himself enters, ready to execute “plenty of people whose loss will be a distinct gain to society at large.” (42)

Next enters Yum-Yum, who reluctantly allows Ko-Ko to kiss her, even though she doesn’t love him; however, she catches sight of Nanki-Poo and rushes over to him. Nanki-Poo, expecting an angry reaction from Ko-Ko, blurts out that he loves Yum-Yum. “Anger!” responds Ko-Ko. “Not a bit, my boy. Why, I love her myself.” The crowd departs, and Yum-Yum and Nanki-Poo are left alone. He confides to her that he is really the son of the mikado, but, ordered by his father to marry Katisha, an elderly lady of the court, he has fled. However, they realize the hopelessness of their situation--and, sadly, they part. (42)

Ko-Ko, Pooh-Bah, and Pish-Tush enter, bearing a letter from the mikado which complains that no executions have taken place in Titipu for a year and, unless somebody is beheaded within the month, Titipu will be reduced to a mere village.

Nanki-Poo decides that his only option is to commit suicide, but Ko-Ko persuades Nanki Poo to let him behead him instead. To clinch the deal, Ko-Ko even agrees to let Nanki-Poo marry Yum-Yum, providing he agrees to be executed in one month.

As wedding preparations progress, Ko-Ko arrives with bad news: he has learned that the law dictates that when a man is beheaded, his wife must be buried alive. Yum-Yum, while not wishing to appear selfish, points out that this revelation does change things. In despair, Nanki-Poo pulls out a dagger and threatens to kill himself if Ko-Ko doesn’t agree to behead him now. However, Ko-Ko can’t; he can’t kill anything, not even a fly. Then, just before the mikado arrives, they come up with a solution: Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum will be married and will go into hiding, while everyone pretends that the execution has taken place. (42)

When the mikado and Katisha arrive, he is pleased that an execution has taken place, but admits that his real purpose in visiting is to find his son. Katisha spots the name on the execution certificate--Nanki-Poo!--and the mikado, while agreeing that a mistake has certainly been made, says that killing the royal heir involves a horrible death. Nanki-Poo surreptitiously suggests that Ko-Ko marry Katisha; that way Nanki-Poo can come back to life, no one will be killed, and Katisha will be off his back. Ko-Ko, while unenthusiastic, agrees. All are happy, except the mikado, who says that now no one has been executed. Ko-Ko comes up with the explanation: “When your majesty says, ‘let a thing be done,’ it’s as good as done--practically is done--because your majesty’s word is law.” The mikado is satisfied, and everyone happily sings the finale. (42)