Sir Arthur Seymour Sullivan—musical half of the comic-opera team of
Gilbert and Sullivan—was born in London, England, on May 13, 1842. The
son of a bandmaster, Sullivan was appointed to the Chapel Royal School
in 1854. One year after that his first published composition appeared,
an anthem. In 1856 he was the first recipient of the recently instituted
Mendelssohn Award which entitled him to attend the Royal Academy of
Music where he studied under Sterndale Bennett and Goss. From 1858 to
1861 he attended the Leipzig Conservatory. After returning to London in
1862, he achieved recognition as a serious composer with several
ambitious compositions including the _Irish Symphony_, a cello concerto,
a cantata, and an oratorio. Meanwhile, in 1866, he had become professor
of composition at the Royal Academy, and in 1867 he completed his first
score in a light style, the comic opera _Cox and Box_, libretto by F. C.
Burnand, which enjoyed a successful engagement in London.
In 1871, a singer introduced Sullivan to W. S. Gilbert, a one-time
attorney who had attracted some interest in London as the writer of
burlesques. An enterprising impresario, John Hollingshead of the Gaiety
Theater, then was responsible for getting Gilbert and Sullivan to work
on their first operetta. This was _Thespis_, produced in London in 1871,
and a failure. It was several years before librettist and composer
worked together again. When they did it was for a new impresario,
Richard D’Oyly Carte, for whom they wrote a one-act comic opera, _Trial
by Jury_, a curtain raiser to a French operetta which Carte was
producing in London on March 25, 1875. _Trial by Jury_—a stinging satire
on court trials revolving around a breach of promise suit—inaugurates
the epoch of Gilbert and Sullivan. D’Oyly Carte now commissioned Gilbert
and Sullivan to create a new full length comic opera for a company he
had recently formed. The new light opera company made a successful bow
with _The Sorcerer_, on November 17, 1877. _Pinafore_, a year later on
May 25, 1878, made Gilbert and Sullivan a vogue and a passion both in
London and in New York. In 1879 Gilbert and Sullivan came to the United
States where on December 31 they introduced a new comic opera, _The
Pirates of Penzance_, that took the country by storm. Upon returning to
London, Gilbert and Sullivan opened a new theater built for them by
D’Oyly Carte—the Savoy—with _Patience_, a tumultuous success on April
25, 1881. After that came _Iolanthe_ (1882), _Princess Ida_ (1884), _The
Mikado_ (1885), the _Yeomen of the Guard_ (1888) and _The Gondoliers_
(1889).
Gilbert and Sullivan came to the parting of the ways in 1890, the final
rift precipitated by a silly argument over the cost of a carpet for the
Savoy Theater. But the differences between them had long been deep
rooted. An attempt to revive the partnership was made in 1893 with
_Utopia Limited_, and again with _The Grand Duke_ in 1896. Both comic
operas were failures.
After 1893, Sullivan wrote a grand opera, _Ivanhoe_, and several
operetta scores to librettists other than Sullivan. None of these were
successful. During the last years of his life he suffered from
deterioration of his health, and was almost always in acute pain. He
died in London on November 22, 1900. Gilbert died eleven years after
that.
Of Sullivan’s other achievements in the field of music mention must be
made of his importance as a conductor of the concerts of the London
Philharmonic from 1885 to 1887, and of the Leeds Festival from 1880 to
1898. Between 1876 and 1881 he was principal of, and professor of
composition at, the National Training School for Music. In recognition
of his high estate in English music, he was the recipient of many
honors. In 1878 he was made Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, and in
1883 he was knighted by Queen Victoria.
It is irony fitting for a Gilbert and Sullivan comic opera that the
music on which Sullivan lavished his most fastidious attention and of
which he was most proud has been completely forgotten (except for one or
two minor exceptions). But the music upon which he looked with such
condescension and self apology is that which has made him an immortal—in
the theater if not in the concert world. For where Sullivan was
heavy-handed, pretentious, and often stilted in his oratorios, serious
operas, and orchestral compositions, he was consistently vital, fresh,
personal, and vivacious in his lighter music. In setting Gilbert’s
lyrics to music, Sullivan was always capable of finding the musical _mot
juste_ to catch every nuance of Gilbert’s wit and satire. So neatly,
even inevitably, does the music fit the words that it is often difficult
to think of one without the other. Like Gilbert, Sullivan was a master
of parody and satire; he liked particularly to mock at the pretensions
of grand opera, oratorio, and the sentimental ballad, pretensions of
which he himself was a victim when he endeavored to work in those
fields. Like Gilbert, he had a pen that raced with lightning velocity in
the writing of patter music to patter verses. Sullivan, moreover, had a
reservoir of melodies seemingly inexhaustible—gay tunes, mocking tunes,
and tunes filled with telling sentiment—and he was able to adapt the
fullest resources of his remarkable gift at harmony, rhythm and
orchestration to the manifold demands of the stage. He was no man’s
imitator. Without having recourse to experimentation or unorthodox
styles and techniques, his style and manners were so uniquely his that,
as T. F. Dunhill has said, “his art is always recognizable.... The
Sullivan touch is unmistakable and can be felt instantly.”
Of the universality of the Gilbert and Sullivan comic operas, Isaac
Goldberg wrote: “They [Gilbert and Sullivan] were not the rebels of an
era, yet as surely they were not the apologists. Their light laughter
carried a pleasant danger of its own that, without being the laughter of
a Figaro, helped before the advent of a Shaw to keep the atmosphere
clear. Transition figures they were, in an age of transition, caught
between the personal independence of the artist and the social
imperatives of their station. They did not cross over into the new day,
though they served as a footbridge for others. Darwin gave them ... only
a song for _Princess Ida_, their melodious answer to the revolt of woman
against a perfumed slavery; Swinburne and Wilde ... characters for
_Patience_. They chided personal foibles, and only indirectly social
abuses. They were, after all, moralists not sociologists. It was in
their natures; it was of their position. Yet something vital in them
lives beyond their time. From their era of caste, of smug rectitude, of
sanctimoniousness, they still speak to an age that knows neither corset
nor petticoat, that votes with its women, and finds Freud insufficiently
aphrodisiac. Perhaps it is because they chide individuals and not
institutions that their work, so admirably held in solution by
Sullivan’s music, has lived through the most critical epoch in modern
history since the French Revolution. For, underneath the cataclysmic
changes of history remain the foibles that make us the fit laughter of
the gods.”
Overtures to and potpourris from the principal Gilbert and Sullivan
comic operas are integral to the repertory of salon and pop orchestras
everywhere. In all cases, the overture is made up of the opera’s main
melodies, and in most cases these overtures were written by others.
_The Gondoliers_ was the last of the Gilbert and Sullivan comic operas
to survive in the permanent repertory. It was produced on December 7,
1889. After the operatic pretension of the _Yeomen of the Guard_ which
had preceded it, _The Gondoliers_ represented a welcome return by the
authors to the world of paradox, absurdity, and confusion. It has aptly
been described as a “farce of errors.” The setting is Venice in the
middle of the 18th century. The Duke and Duchess of Plaza-Toro come to
Venice accompanied by their daughter, Casilda, and a drummer boy, Luiz,
who loves her. In her childhood, Casilda had married the infant heir to
the throne of Barataria. This heir had then been stolen and entrusted to
the care of a gondolier who raised him as one of his two sons. In time
the gondolier himself has forgotten which of his two boys is of royal
blood. To complicate matters even further, the two gondolier boys, Marco
and Giuseppe, are married. Thus it seems impossible to solve the problem
as to who really is the heir to Barataria’s throne and by the same token
Gasilda’s husband. But when this problem is finally unscrambled it turns
out that the heir is neither Marco nor Giuseppe, but none other than
Luiz.
The following are the principal selections from _The Gondoliers_:
Antonio’s song, “For the Merriest Fellows Are We”; the duet of Marco and
Giuseppe, “We’re Called Gondolieri”; the autobiographical chant of the
Duke of Plaza-Toro, “The Duke of Plaza-Toro”; the duet of Casilda and
Luiz, “There Was a Time”; the song of the Grand Inquisitor, “I Stole the
Prince”; Tessa’s song, “When a Merry Maiden Marries”; the duet of Marco
and Giuseppe, “For Everyone Who Feels Inclined”; Giuseppe’s patter song,
“Rising Early in the Morning”; Marco’s serenade, “Take a Pair of
Sparkling Eyes”; and the song of the Duchess, “On the Day that I was
Wedded.”
_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.
_Pinafore_ was a sensation when introduced in London in 1878, enjoying
seven hundred consecutive performances. But it proved even more
sensational in the United States, following its première there at the
Boston Museum on November 25 of the same year. Ninety different
companies presented this comic opera throughout the country in that
first season, with five different companies operating simultaneously in
New York. _Pinafore_ was given by colored groups, children’s groups, and
religious groups. It was widely parodied. Some of its catch phrases
(“What never? No never!” and “For he himself has said it”) entered
American _argot_.
As a bountiful source of popular melodies, the score of _Pinafore_ is
second only in importance to that of _The Mikado_. Here are the main
ones: the opening chorus of the sailors, “We Sail the Ocean Blue”;
Buttercup’s forthright self-introduction, “I’m Called Little Buttercup”;
Ralph’s madrigal, “The Nightingale,” and ballad, “A Maiden Fair to See”;
the Captain’s colloquy with his crew, “I Am the Captain of the
_Pinafore_”; Josephine’s poignant ballad, “Sorry Her Lot”; Sir Joseph’s
exchange with his sisters, cousins, and aunts, “I am the Monarch of the
Sea,” and his autobiographical, “When I Was a Lad”; the Captain’s sad
reflection, “Fair Moon to Thee I Sing”; the choral episode, “Carefully
on Tip-Toe Stealing” followed by the tongue-in-the-cheek paean to
England and Englishmen, “He Is an Englishman.”
_The Pirates of Penzance_ was the only Gilbert and Sullivan comic opera
to receive its world première outside England. This took place in New
York at the Fifth Avenue Theater in 1879. (There was a single hastily
prepared performance in Paignton, England, on December 30, 1879 but this
is not regarded as an official première.) The reason why _The Pirates_
was introduced in New York was due to the presence there of its authors.
Numerous pirated versions of _Pinafore_ were then being given throughout
the United States in about a hundred theaters, and Gilbert and Sullivan
decided to come to America for the dual purpose of exploring the
conditions under which they might protect their copyright and to offer
an authorized version of their opera. In coming to the United States,
they brought with them the manuscript of their new work, _The Pirates of
Penzance_, and arranged to have its première take place in New York.
_The Pirates of Penzance_ is a blood relative of _Pinafore_. Where
_Pinafore_ made fun of the British Navy, _The Pirates_ concentrates on
the British Army and constabulary. In _Pinafore_ two babies are mixed up
in the cradle for a confusion of their identities; in _The Pirates_ it
is the future professions of babies which are confounded in the cradle.
In _Pinafore_ the secret is divulged by Buttercup, in _The Pirates_ by
Ruth. _Pinafore_ boasts a female chorus of cousins, sisters and aunts
while _The Pirates_ has a female chorus made up of the Major General’s
daughters.
The hero is young Frederic, apprenticed to a band of pirates by his
nurse Ruth, who mistakes the word “pilot” for “pirate.” Frederic falls
in love with Mabel, one of the many daughters of Major General Stanley
and looks forward eagerly to his freedom from his apprenticeship to the
pirate band, which arrives on his twenty-first birthday. But Frederic
discovers that since he was born on leap year the year of his
freedom—his twenty-first _birthday_—is many, many years off; that by the
calendar he is still only a little boy of five. As a pirate he must join
his confederates in exterminating Mabel’s father and the constables
attending him. But all turns out happily when the pirates actually prove
to be ex-noblemen, and are thus found highly acceptable as husbands for
the daughters of Major General Stanley. The Major General is also in
favor of the union of Mabel and Frederic.
The following are the leading musical selections: the opening chorus of
the pirates, “Pour, Oh Pour, the Pirate Sherry”; the Pirate king’s hymn
to his profession, “For I am a Pirate King”; the chorus of the Major
General’s daughters, “Climbing Over Rocky Mountain”; Frederic’s
plaintive plea for a lover, “Oh, Is There Not One Maiden Breast”; the
Major General’s autobiographical patter song, “I Am the Very Pattern of
a Modern Major General”; the rousing chorus of the constabulary, “When
the Foeman Bares His Steel”; the tripping trio of Ruth, Fred and the
Pirate King on discovering Fred is only a child of five, “A Paradox, a
Most Ingenious Paradox”; Mabel’s haunting ballad, “Oh, Leave Me Not to
Pine”; the Police Sergeant’s commentary on his profession, “When a
Felon’s Not Engaged in His Employment”; the Pirates’ chorus, “Come
Friends Who Plough the Sea,” a melody expropriated by an American,
Theodore Morse, for the lyric “Hail, Hail the Gang’s All Here”; and the
General’s idyllic ballad, “Sighing Softly To the River.”
_Ruddigore_, a travesty on melodrama, was first performed on January 22,
1887. Because the Murgatroyd family has persecuted witches, an evil
spirit had fated it to commit a crime a day. Ruthven Murgatroyd tries to
flee from this curse by assuming the identity of simple Robin Oakapple.
He meets and falls in love with Rose who is being sought after by
Ruthven’s foster brother, Richard. Since Ruthven as Robin Oakapple has
the upper hand with Rose, Richard avenges himself by revealing the fact
that his brother is really a member of the Murgatroyd family and like
all of them is the victim of the ancient family curse. Back in his
ancestral home, Ruthven must fulfil his quota of crimes, a job he
bungles so badly that his ancestors suddenly come alive out of the
picture frames on the wall, to condemn him. But after numerous
convolutions of typically Gilbertian logic and reasoning, the curse is
broken and Ruthven can live happily with his beloved Rose.
From _Ruddigore_ come the following familiar sections: the opening
chorus of the bridesmaids, “Fair Is Rose as the Bright May Day”;
Hannah’s legend, “Sir Rupert Murgatroyd”; Rose’s ballad, “If Somebody
There Chanced to Be”; the extended duet of Robin and Rose, “I Know a
Youth Who Loves a Little Maid”; Richard’s ballad, “I Shipped, D’ye See,
in a Revenue Sloop”; Robin’s song, “My Boy You May Take it From Me”; the
chorus of the bridesmaids, “Hail the Bride of Seventeen Summers”
followed by Rose’s madrigal, “Where the Buds Are Blossoming”; the duet
of Robin and Adam, “I Once Was As Meek as a New Born Lamb”; Rose’s
ballad, “In Bygone Days”; the chorus of the family portraits, “Painted
Emblems of a Race”; Sir Roderic’s patter song, “When the Night Wind
Howls”; and Hannah’s ballad, “There Grew a Little Flower.”
_The Sorcerer_, the first successful Gilbert and Sullivan comic opera,
was introduced in 1877. Alexis, in love with Aline, wishes to spread
around the blessings of love. For this purpose he enlists the
cooperation of John Wellington Wells, the creator of a love brew. In an
effort to perpetuate Aline’s love for him, Alexis has her drink this
potion, only to discover that his beloved has fallen for the vicar, Dr.
Daly, he being the first man she sees after drinking the draught. Since
Alexis is not the only one to suffer from this now-general epidemic of
loving, a serious effort must be made to offset the effects of this
magic: a human sacrifice. Naturally that sacrifice becomes none other
than John Wellington Wells who is driven to self immolation before
things can once again be set normal.
The music of _The Sorcerer_ is not so well known as that of the other
famous comic operas, but it does contain several Gilbert and Sullivan
delights. Among them are: the song with which Wells introduces himself
and his black art, “Oh! My Name Is John Wellington Wells,” the first of
the Gilbert and Sullivan patter songs; the vicar’s haunting ballad,
“Time Was When Love and I Were Well Acquainted”; and the romantic duet
of Aline and Alexis, “It Is Not Love.”
In the _Yeomen of the Guard_, produced on October 3, 1888, the
topsy-turvy world of Gilbert and Sullivan is temporarily sidestepped for
another of operatic pretensions. Of all the Gilbert and Sullivan plays
this one comes closest to resembling an opera. The immediate stimulus
for the writing of the text came to Gilbert from an advertisement in a
railway station depicting a Beefeater. Out of this acorn grew the oak of
Gilbert’s play in which Colonel Charles Fairfax is falsely accused by
his kinsman, Poltwhistle, of sorcery. For this he must be condemned to
death in the Tower of London. Since Fairfax is not married, his fortune
will pass on to his accuser. But Charles thwarts such evil designs by
marrying Elsie Maynard, a strolling player—if only for an hour. Then he
manages to escape from the Tower disguised as a yeoman of the guard.
When the execution is to take place there is no victim. Eventually, a
reprieve enables Charles to live permanently with Elsie.
The most important selections from the _Yeomen of the Guard_ are:
Phoebe’s song with which the opera opens, “When Maiden Loves”; the
chorus of the yeomen, “In the Autumn of Our Life”; Fairfax’ ballad, “Is
Life a Boon?”; the extended duet of Point and Elsie, “I Have a Song to
Sing, O”; Phoebe’s ballad, “Were I Thy Bride”; Point’s patter song, “Oh,
a Private Buffoon Is a Light-Hearted Loon”; the quartet of Elsie,
Fairfax, Dame Carruthers and Meryll, “Strange Adventure”; the trio of
Fairfax, Elsie and Phoebe, “A Man Who Would Woo a Fair Maid”; the
quartet of Elsie, Fairfax, Phoebe and Point, “When a Wooer Goes
a-Wooing”; and the finale, “Oh, Thoughtless Crew.”
Besides his music for the comic operas there exists a vast repertory of
serious music by Sullivan. Of this hardly more than two songs have
retained their popularity. One is “The Lost Chord,” lyric by Adelaide
Proctor, written by Sullivan in December 1876 at the deathbed of his
brother, Fred. From Charles Willeby we get an account of how this deeply
moving piece of music came into being: “For nearly three weeks he
watched by his bedside night and day. One night—the end was not very far
off then—while his sick brother had for a time fallen into a peaceful
sleep, and he was sitting as usual by the bedside, he chanced to come
across some verses by Adelaide Proctor with which he had some five years
previously been struck. He had then tried to set them to music, but
without satisfaction to himself. Now in the stillness of the night he
read them over again, and almost as he did so, he conceived their
musical equivalent. A stray sheet of music paper was at hand, and he
began to write. Slowly the music took shape, until, becoming quite
absorbed in it, he determined to finish the song. Even if in the cold
light of day it were to prove worthless, it would at least have helped
to while away the hours of watching. So he worked on at it. As he
progressed, he felt sure this was what he had sought for, and failed to
find on the occasion of his first attempt to set the words. In a short
time it was complete and not long after in the publisher’s hands. Thus
was written ‘The Lost Chord,’ perhaps the most successful song of modern
times.”
“Onward Christian Soldiers,” words by Sabine Baring-Gould, is the most
celebrated of Sullivan’s more than fifty religious hymns. It is
effective not merely for its religious mood but also for its martial
spirit. “The music,” says Isaac Goldberg, “has the tread of armies in
it, and a broad diatonic stride.” Sullivan wrote it in 1873 upon being
appointed editor of the _Hymnal_, a collection of hymns published by
Novello for the Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge and the
Hymnary.