No 39 -- Winter 1992–3 Edited by Michael Walters
This single workshop performance was put on with minimal rehearsal (2 days) and was attended by an audience of 4 (2 of whom were relatives of the cast, the others were Richard Duployen and myself!), but it proved that The Nautch Girl is a fully viable stage work, and absolutely typical of the G&S style, save that it lacks Gilbert's words and Sullivan's music. Shaw originally criticised the work as being a copy of The Mikado, with which it does indeed show some similarity, but Solomon's music is light, and extremely melodic, though it contains too many numbers in waltz time. However, the overall effect is of genuine–sounding Eastern music, which is not the case with The Mikado, though it is clear that Sullivan was not trying to produce Eastern sound. The whole difference is that Mikado is intended to sound English, whereas The Nautch Girl is intended to be as Indian as Solomon knew how. George Dance's book is a delightful romantic tale, and contains much humour, though it lacks satire and the pungency of Gilbert's wit. The lyrics, however (some of which are by Frank Desprez), are a poor substitute for Gilbert's, and the patter songs fail to stand up in the way those of the G&S operas do. Songs of multiple verses set strophically have words of insufficient interest to sustain the song in the absence of any musical development. In these cases (e.g. Pyjama's catalogue song, and Bumbo's "put upon the shelf") the number would greatly benefit by the deletion of one or more verses. (In a run of performances, the verses used could be varied from night to night).
Briefly, the story is as follows. Indru, son of the Rajah of Chutneypore, is in love with a Nautch Girl, Hollee Beebee, but his caste will not permit him to marry her. In order to lose caste, he eats "potted cow" in public, but just at that moment Beebee receives news that her caste has been restored (her father had been a Brahmin who had lost caste). Thus the lovers are as far apart as ever, but they marry none the less. For this they are arrested, but Beebee is whisked off on a tour of Europe by her manager, Baboo Currie, while Indru is imprisoned. The Rajah's wicked Visier, Pyjama, has informed the idol of the God Bumbo of the situation, and the latter comes to life, threatening the Rajah and all his relatives with death for violation of the sacred laws. However, while in Europe, Beebee has found the idol's diamond eye which had been stolen (as in Collins' The Moonstone) and as a result the Rajah and all his family are reprieved. Pyjama (who had originally stolen it) is condemned to be thrown to the sacred crocodiles, and the rest all live happily ever after, Chinna Loofa, the Rajah's relative, marrying the idol!
Imperial Opera's performance was remarkably well sung, bearing in mind that it had been rehearsed only over a weekend, though one or two of the voices were not strong enough to do full justice. Anthony Hawgood was a superb Indru, spinning out the sinuous melodies with mastery, and delivering his dialogue with an exuberance and sense of humour unusual in a tenor. A last minute replacement, he is a real "find" for the Society. The equally exuberant Clive Paget was obviously thoroughly enjoying himself as the Rajah, a performance of whimsicality and intensity, ranging from extremes of pomposity to abject terror when threatened by the Idol. It is a part of which its creator Rutland Barrington might have remarked "really gives a man a chance!" (It has a lot in common with Pooh–Bah). The god Bumbo does not appear till Act 2 (more shades of Mikado), but the role is a gift to a strong performer, and Ellis Pike made full use of every opportunity the part offered. John Tripp elected to play the evil Visier Pyjama for laughs, rather than for menace or evil, probably the correct decision. It certainly worked (most things do work that John Tripp sets his hand to, conscientious performer that he is), though the Rajah's obvious hatred of the character, was, as a result, rather overdone – the reaction to this Pyjama needed to be one of irritation rather than actual hostility. Tim Sawers did not look the obvious candidate for Baboo Currie, but he made the part work in that inexplicable way that only Tim can, delivering the dialogue with a lightness of touch that disguised its basic poverty. It was a pity, though, that he had not properly learned his main second act song (the dance number) – one of the best numbers in the show.
The women on the whole were lower in volume than the men. It is one of the greatest defects of The Nautch Girl that all the best parts are for men, there are only 2 leading roles for women, a soprano and a soubrette (no contralto) and neither are particularly inspired pieces of writing. The remaining female roles are merely choristers with a solo to sing or a few lines of dialogue. Susan Wright coped very well with the ungrateful part of Hollee Beebee, and produced some good tone as well as volume, but the performance tended to be patchy, and she lacked the joie–de–vive of the rest of the cast. Virginia King sparkled as far as was possible in the extraordinary role of Chinna Loofa which was obviously written in to provide a part for Jessie Bond, though it is hard to visualise Jessie making the success of it that the first–night press reported. Sparkling and pretty as it was, much of the charm of Virginia's performance was visual – I noticed particularly the elegance of the placing and movements of her fingers in the set dances, far better than anybody else's. There is a tape recording of Act 2, and part of Act 1, of this performance. MICHAEL WALTERS
Web page created 9 September 1998