by Paul R. Spitzzeri
The team of Arthur Gilbert and William S. Sullivan, with music by the former and librettos, created fourteen comic operas in the last three decades of the 19th century, were wildly successful with “H.M.S. Pinafore,” “The Pirates of Penzance,” and “The Mikado” generally considered the peak of their quarter-century of collaboration. Gilbert’s whimsical lyrics comported perfectly with his partner’s impeccable sense of melody and their work was not only immensely popular but influential on 20th century musicals.
“The Mikado” premiered in London’s Savoy Theatre, operated by impresario Richard D’Oyly Carte, who produced the Gilbert and Sullivan works, in March 1885 and it ran for 672 performances, second most in musical theatre history and has been among the most performed musicals ever. Notably, strain between the team grew in early development of the work, but they found common ground in a topic that reflected a fascination with Japan, which emerged from its being forced out of its isolation and embarked on a remarkable transformation to preserve its independence, given what happened in China.
Still, the story about the town of “Titipu” and characters with the ridiculous names of “Nanki-Poo,” the son of the Mikado or Japanese emperor, the nobles “Ko-Ko,” “Pooh-Bah,” “Pish-Tush,” and “Go-To,” as well as those Ko-Ko’s female wards, including “Yum-Yum,” “Pitti-Sing,” and “Peep-Bo” are reflective of a stereotyping and a superficial surface-level characterization, even as Gilbert claimed he was seeking authentic representations of Japanese society. Yet, “The Mikado” had some Japanese admirers and it was performed often in the country, though in recent decades performances in America have had locations changed to Italy and Scotland after Asian-Americans and others protested.
More than a century ago, the white audiences at the Mason Opera House in Los Angeles who saw and enjoyed the work in droves did not have any such concerns. The production, opening on Memorial Day, 30 May 1921, with a program being the featured artifact from the Museum’s collection for this post (a couple of prior posts highlighted programs from earlier days of the venue), was by the California Opera Company and William G. Stewart and lead actors included Philip Ryder as the titular character, John Westervelt as Nanki-Poo, Basil Ruysdael as Pooh-Bah and Irene Pavlovska as Yum-Yum. Playing Pish-Tush was Ruysdael’s protegé, baritone Lawrence Tibbett (1896-1960), born in Bakersfield and raised in Los Angeles, being a graduate of Manual Arts High School, and who became a star with the Metropolitan Opera from 1923 to 1950.
In the runup to the week of performances, with the company first performing the 1912 operetta “The Firefly” by Rudolph Friml, advance publicity featured Pavlovska (1889-1962), who was actually born Irene Levi and raised in a Jewish family in Montreal. She went into intense study while at a boarding school in Frankfurt, Germany and began her career with her stage name at Montreal in 1911. After further study in Paris, she worked in New York City before moving to Chicago and singing with its opera company for nearly two decades until she retired in the mid-Thirties. Pavlovska performed as Yum-Yum for the Municipal Opera Company in St. Louis in summer 1920, “scoring tremendous success,” reported the Los Angeles Express.
Notably, there was an announcement that “Lady Lo Wah,” said to be from a noble Chinese family, though born in San Francisco, was initially to play the role of Pitti Sing, but the part went instead to Suzanne Keith. Sybil Stone, denoted as “general understudy” in one pre-performance article, was Peep-Bo during the run at the Mason. Another cast member, playing the comedic Ko-Ko, was Roy Atwell, who inadvertently flubbed a line in a serious role in a Broadway play led to his becoming a comedy specialist, including in film, most notably in voicing Doc in the 1937 Disney classic, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
Also highlighted as the performances neared was Ruysdael (1878-1960), born Basil Millspaugh in Jersey City, New Jersey, he studied mechanical engineering at Cornell University but his bass-baritone was utilized in the campus glee club before he turned professional. By 1910, he was appearing in minor roles at the Metropolitan Opera House, spending most of the Teens with the company there as well as having some important stage roles, including in the Marx Brothers’ Roaring Twenties classic, The Cocoanuts. He transitioned over to film, beginning with the 1929 version of that comedy, but most of his movie acting was in the last decade of his life, while he had extensive radio experience in the 1930s and 1940s.
Ryder, who was not as well known to audiences then, was, however said to have “a wide reputation as a singer of comic opera roles” and worked for such impresarios as George M. Cohan, Florenz Ziegfeld and Klaw and Erlanger, who were lessees of the Mason (the theatre was owned by Abraham L. Erlanger) with Charles Frohman and Oliver Morosco. Ryder also had a four-year stint as a stage director in New York City.
Stewart was hailed by the Los Angeles Times for deserving “great credit for the formation of the California Opera” which was “splendidly imagined and prudently devised.” The paper commented that the producer believed in the general public’s “desire to appreciate and cherish real music, great singing and splendid melodic drama, if these are placed within their reach.” He was also said to have a plan for the presentation of “truly American music, of native [born] American artists, and, perhaps, most of all, of native American composers.”
The musical director was Hans Linne (1863-1939), a native of Vienna, who was said to be a close friend of the renowned composer Victor Herbert and who was said to have worked extensively in Europe and New York City before moving to San Francisco. There, Linne was conductor at the Tivoli Theatre, but also composed light operas before becoming director in later years of the San Francisco Light Opera Company. Before the work, there was an opening act of “incidental dances” by Marjorie Maughlin and Corps de Ballet, with Maughlin’s day job being with Los Angeles City Schools as a research assistant.
A coincidence came on the opening day of “The Mikado” when news reached Los Angeles of the death in Oakland of Charles Patrick Hildesley, a Sullivan protegé who debuted with the D’Oyly Carte company in 1884 and played Nanki-Poo in the producer’s traveling companies in the U.K. from 1886 to 1889. Hildesley moved to California early in the 20th century and taught in Los Angeles, Santa Barbara and San Jose before settling in Oakland.
Reviews of “The Mikado” in three Angel City newspapers, the Express, Record and Times appeared on the 31st and all were positive. Florence Pierce Reed of the first-named paper noted that the opening matinee was followed by “a polite dress rehearsal” and then the evening show, “which smoothed out considerably and showed the players to better advantage.” Reed judged that “the singing was highly commendable for the most part” especially by those singers with “professional suavity” highlighting the “splendid satire” of the work.
There were moments, said the critic, in which “more than one fine point was lost, however, through faulty inflection, bad enunciation and lack of projection in the pantomimic art.” Linne was lionized for conducting “with finesse and skill” and Reed felt that the “second crop” of “home products” showed a growing “unusually high standard.” More performances would allow for “those inexperienced in the art of acting” to grow in their roles, leading to “a more cohesive performance.”
Atwell and Marie Horgan were complimented as “old-time professionals [who] worked with charm and ease and brought out their entire repertoire of hokum to broaden the scene” and who “did splendid individual work.” Pavlovska was considered “charming” with excellent vocal skills, though her acting was not quite up to par, though not detracting from “her picturesque atmosphere. Ruysdael was also deemed a fine singer and “struck a high comedy note and Russ Powell had a strong vocal presence and the right “pompousness” as the Mikado and Tibbett given kudos for his comedic touch and singing.
As for the chorus, it was felt by the reviewer that the women outperformed the men with their work “more interesting” and better projection. The scene work was determined to be done well “and the costumes were picturesque,” though the color was better “than actual splendor” and the lighting was especially striking during the second of the two acts. In summary, Reed decided that “the company deserves an assured patronage throughout the week’s engagement.”
Gilbert Brown of the Record opined that the “music week has no brighter spot” than at the Mason because of the “glowing revival” of the piece, which had “an exceedingly able cast of principals” in “a sumptuous production.” Given the morning rehearsal was followed by a matinee with no lunch break, “it was a performance of all around excellence” and no one seemed worn out by the schedule.
Atwell, Pavlovska and Ruysdael were singled out among the cast with the latter deemed “as thorough-going an actor as he is a magnificent singer.” Brown was especially impressed by the make-up as the performer “looked like a Japanese print of a samurai, with a suggestion of caricature.” The female lead was so beguiling that “one could not ask for a quainter, more bewitching portrayal of a Gilbertian heroine” and her vocalizing was well-received.
With respect to Atwell, the critic highlighted the “deliciously droll fluttering and dodderings,” the actor’s fumbling vocal forte, that was so successful in “The Firefly,” while he was acknowledged for having come to the role very recently. Tibbett “was vocally imposing” and his acting was far more improved than it was in the other production. Powell and Horgan, the latter with “startling make-up” were also praised and Westervelt “scored 100 per cent as Nanki Poo,” though his voice could have been stronger.
The Times’ Grace Kingsley, in her review, observed that “experts on ‘The Mikado’ flourish these days” like connoisseurs of diamonds or wine and she added to this by insisting that not only was the piece “probably the most brilliant ever written, but it’s an institution.” The music was exceptional, but she was drawn to the satire on government and its officials, this being “eternally amusing and piquant.”
Pavolvska, Kingsley continued, gave a performance such that “seldom, indeed, has there been a more charming Yum-Yum” and she benefited by “a really authentic Japanese make-up,” though she could have projected more warmth. Her vocalizing, though, was registered by the critic as “exquisitely clear and beautiful.” Ruysdael took second honors for his evocation of “humorous pomp” and a strong voice displaying the right amount of authority.
Atwell suffered from a cold which hindered his first act performance, though he came out better in the second. Others weren’t as well received, but Suzanne Keith impressed with her “very alluring and sweet-voiced Pitti-Sing” and Merrill Lavelle as the umbrella bearer was singled out for a “truly comic” performance. The chorus was adjudged to be “a joy to hear” and the scenes were “strikingly pleasing.”
The program is notable, as these often are, for the variety of advertisements of clothiers, restaurants, auto-related businesses, jewelers and more, along with upcoming offerings at the Mason and an “Actors’ Fund Festival” to be held at the Los Angeles Speedway in Beverly Hills on 4 June, this promoted as “a monster entertainment presented by 1000 members of the acting profession” to celebrate “the untiring efforts of actresses and actors in connection with local and [First World] war charities.”
The Museum’s holdings have plenty more theatre programs so we’ll continue to feature these in the “Treading the Boards” series devoted to live performance in Los Angeles venues.
Cultural barriers exist not only in background interpretation, as discussed in the blog about “The Mikado,” but also extend to the appreciation of audiences or customers. For instance, while Japanese sushi may seem too simple to be highly valued by us, many Westerners tend to apply Zen principles to anything in Japanese culture that is plain, unfamiliar, or incomplete, and appreciate it with great admiration.