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The setting is a dress rehearsal, days before the premiere of “Ruddigore,” the new production by the Harvard-Radcliffe Gilbert and Sullivan Players. Dick Dauntless (Pedro K. Kaawaloa ’06) strides across the stage and looks incredulously at the wretched, love-lorn face of his half-brother, Robin Oakapple (Benjamin T. Morris ’09)
“Why, you’re a fine, strapping, muscular young fellow—tall and strong as a to’-gall’n’-m’st—taut as a forestay—aye, and a barrow-knight to boot, if all had their rights!” he exclaims.
There is a split-second of silence from the wings and the pit as all eyes swivel towards the “fine, strapping, muscular young fellow”—and then, a burst of unscripted laughter. Gilbert and Sullivan might have intended Robin to be a mast-like man among men—but apart from his height, the thin and artsy-looking Morris doesn’t quite fit the bill.
He manages to remain in character and swagger a little, puffing up his chest as he smugly replies, “I know well enough that few men are better calculated to win a woman’s heart than I. I’m a fine fellow, Dick.” But his efforts are futile—from then on, any reference in the script to his fine physical being evokes a storm of laughter.
“The characters call each other huge, strong men, and we’re like, ‘you’re really not,’” jokes director J. Jacob Krause about his scrawny actors. “The script is talking about things that don’t really [exist] onstage.”
“WELCOME, GENTRY”
Nineteenth-century operatic parodies of Gothic literature may sound more like a freshman seminar than an evening of college entertainment. But the Harvard-Radcliffe Gilbert and Sullivan Players (HRG&SP) manage two highly entertaining productions every year since their founding in1956.
After last night’s opening, “Ruddigore” (also called “The Witch’s Curse”) will be showing every night through December 10 at the Agassiz Theater in Radcliffe Yard at 8 p.m., with 2 p.m. matinee performances on Saturdays and Sunday Dec. 4.
“Since we’re building up for our 50th anniversary next fall, we figured it would be a great time to do ‘Ruddigore’ again,” says Casey M. Lurtz, ’07, one of the show’s three producers. The operetta was last performed in 2001 and was also the first show that the G&S Players ever produced—running it again takes the society fill circle.
Jennifer A. Bloom ’07, the G&S historian, says that “we did a little known production last spring, so we wanted to counter it this fall by doing something that’s a little more well known, but something that wouldn’t overshadow ‘HMS Pinafore,’ which we’re doing for the 50th.”
Beyond the sentimental significance, “Ruddigore” is an entertaining operetta. An innocent village beauty, Rose Maybud (Caitlin Vincent, ’07) discovers that her love Robin Oakapple is actually Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd, who is obligated by a family curse to commit at least one evil every day of his life. The fickle Maybud then finds comfort in the arms of Sir Ruthven’s half-brother, Dick Dauntless.
The story unfolds—against a backdrop of portraits coming to life, professional bridesmaids plotting to marry off villagers for financial gain, and general magical merriment—with Sir Ruthven trying desperately to flout his curse, avenge himself upon the backstabbing Dick, and win back his lady.
It is a classic story that appeals to the faithful fan base the G&S Players have built in the Cambridge-Boston area. Often, their shows—especially bigger ones such as last fall’s “Pirates of Penzance,” “The Mikado,” and “HMS Pinafore”— sell out.
“Families come back year after year, bringing their kids who then bring their kids,” HRG&SP president Melissa E. Goldman ’06, writes in an e-mail. “We have audience members who have seen every HRG&SP show since our inception in 1956.”
“We would love to see more students and faculty members, coming to see the shows,” Goldman continues, “not just for G&S, but for all campus theater in the Agassiz, the Loeb, and elsewhere.”
“OH, WHY AM I MOODY AND SAD?”
The Gilbert and Sullivan Players combine a dedication to the unique, light-hearted material of the two theatrical legends with the professionalism and dedication of the Harvard student theater community.
“G&S is a unique kind of theatrical experience. It’s not your typical musical and it’s not your typical opera,” Goldman writes. “It is very accessible to the audience even though it was written at the turn of 20th century, and it is a lot of fun to watch.”
The HRG&S Players began planning the production of “Ruddigore” seven months ago, and hired Krause, a professional operatic stage director and opera singer. He is supervising a cast and crew that have been involved with G&S for several seasons, playing in the orchestra, working on the technical crew, or acting. Most are veterans of other stages around campus, ranging from participating in the Dunster House Opera to the recent production of “Slavs!” at the Loeb Theater.
Simply performing Gilbert and Sullivan’s libretto was not enough for the HRG&S Players—they also aim at spicing up the production with a generous dash of their own Harvardian creativity.
“We can’t do things[in] the way that was originally how the playwrights intended them—they’re dead,” Krause says. “In a new cultural setting, and taking into account how we perceive jokes [today], we have to change the way [the play] looks and feels.”
To enliven the portrayals, Krause created a personal history—apart from the script—for each character. Eacg actor was given a deeper understanding of how to interpret their lines into attitudes and actions.
“You have to understand why you spontaneously burst into song, and you have to make it believable” says Sammi K. Biegler ’08, who plays Zorah, the professional bridesmaid, “Not like [you’re singing] just because someone wrote it.”
Gilbert and Sullivan depict Zorah as a sullen, depressed alcoholic—Krause provides the “why.” Zorah is in love with Dick, who went off to sea; when he returns, he falls in love with Rose. Biegler then incorporates this background story into a more nuanced performance.
“PAINTED EMBLEMS”
Just as the actors onstage hone their art, a different, but no less integral, craft is practiced in the basement’s set-building workshop and in the pit, the homes of the technical crew and the orchestra, respectively. The lighting, sound, set, and music of “Ruddigore” all reflect the intense attention and care of their creators.
Master painter Andrea Tsurumi, ’07 wipes her hands on her already paint-speckled T-shirt, then starts helping set designer Courtney E. Thompson, ’09 paint a wooden lattice. After Thompson designs the set for a scene, Tsurumi sketches the various components of the scene onto backboards and the props that the tech crew has built. While there are a few complicated props—such as actual portraits of the actors for the ghost scenes—that Tsurumi has to paint on her own, many of the cast members help with the more basic paint jobs during their three hours tech requirement.
Simultaneously, in the pit, a small, close-knit orchestra patiently practices the musical score.
“We’re supposed to be background to the actors—you’re not supposed to notice us,” says orchestra manager, Joanna N. Huey ’06. “It’s not a time when you’re playing to get credit for what you’re playing, it’s about enjoying the show.”
Technical director Blase E. Ur ’08, who is also the newly elected President of the HRDC, fiddles with the special effects that make each scene, paradoxically, both more magical and more real. “Ruddigore” was the first show that G&S wrote for electric lights, giving the technical crew a special obligation to technological experimentation.
“The most complicated technical aspect is allowing for the ‘ghosts’ to appear from [out of] the portraits,” Ur writes in e-mail.
While the orchestra and set-and-tech crew mostly have free rein, Krause provides few guidelines for them to follow when creating the musical and visual settings. He explains to them the vision that he wants to create on stage—Thompson, Tsurumi, the orchestra, and the tech crew interpret that vision into art.
“I explained my thoughts and painted pictures with my words as to what I was looking for,” Krause says. His matter-of-fact attitude definitely speaks for the faith he has in a student production team that will carry through all his hopes. “I give them the outline, and they make it real.”
“HAPPILY COUPLED ARE WE”
In spite of the serious attitude with which Gilbert and Sullivan Players treats the production of “Ruddigore,” the general atmosphere in the Agassiz is very warm and friendly during rehearsals. Actors, techies, members of the orchestra, producers, and director joke throughout their run-throughs..
“One of the words that we use in the show is ‘affidavit’ but we say ‘affadavit,’ which is the British way,” Krause says, and he starts laughing at the memory. “We died laughing for five rehearsals straight—we have no idea what it means or what it is, but hey.”
The camaraderie is not limited to the stage. On Thursday nights, the entire cast and crew hang out and chat and laugh over Uno’s. The board also organizes parties for the theater group, including Halloween and wine-and-cheese parties.
“There’s just such a big… sense of family, including all the bickering, and the love, and the going out for drinks, and everything like that,” Krause says.
But it is not just the social atmosphere; even more of the charm of G&S operettas is that they allow the directors, actors, producers, tech crew, set designers, the painters to decide how to give new life to the humor and the fun Gilbert and Sullivan invisioned. Each generation of thespians sees a different “Ruddigore” and has a different G&S experience, because G&S offers flexibility in the way their shows are brought to life on stage—giving even the skinniest of actors the chance to play the hulking musical hero.
“Gilbert and Sullivan is an institution in theater and an institution at Harvard,” Lurtz says. “There is something special and timeless about these shows that makes people in every generation continue to [come] see them and love them.”
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