Reissued once again – have they ever really been away? – these
G&S recordings have long since left behind the appellation
of ‘classics’ and drifted off to that empyrean region in which
position they remain, immovable, immortal.
Which is not to
say, that they are all imperishable masterpiece performances
or without flaws. And you’ll note that not all the canon is
included in this review though all the Sargent-led recordings
have been duly re-issued. There were numerous predecessors on
disc and the contemporaneous Isidore Godfrey productions will
hold equal interest to collectors, not to mention the many more
recent recordings which we can here, I think, omit.
The Pirates of
Penzance recording is one of the very best Sargent inscriptions.
It’s energetic and witty, and has a sure sense of style. It
must also be borne in mind that the dialogue is omitted from
this and all these performances. Sargent points When Frederic
was a little lad strongly, which Monica Sinclair despatches
with oratorio fervour. James Milligan is in fine voice for Oh,
better far and the excellently judged duet, Oh, false
one, is an example of the care and discrimination soloists,
conductor and engineers extended to the concerted numbers. Here
and elsewhere they are invariably good. Crowd scenes have been
energetically and plausibly done and the set piece I am the
very model of a modern Major-General is taken quite sedately.
There are clever pauses and fine rubati from the star of the
show, George Baker. The Glyndebourne Festival Chorus sings lustily
- they pack quite a punch in Pray observe the magnanimity
as indeed they do in With cat-like tread. The Sargent
repertory company of singers included such elegant and personable
artists as John Cameron and Richard Lewis, as well as Owen Brannigan
– no one like him around today – and a star line up of women;
Elsie Morison, Heather Harper, Marjorie Thomas and Monica Sinclair.
These are the kind of voices that could belt out Handel and
Elgar oratorios as well as turn to G & S. A further inducement
in this volume is the presence of three overtures – The Sorcerer,
Cox and Box, and Princess Ida and the Overture in C (In Memoriam)
– played by the City of Birmingham Symphony under Vivian Dunn;
recordings made just over a decade after the Sargent one.
H.M.S. Pinafore
shows again the exceptionally high vocal standards set and maintained
in the Sargent HMV productions. This applies equally to the
choral numbers and to the playing of the Pro Arte orchestra;
that it doesn’t sound quite as lithe as some bands is really
down to the generally genial tempi set by the conductor. Richard
Lewis, George Baker and Owen Brannigan star for the men whilst
Monica Sinclair turns in a star show for the women. Note how
well the fine Handelian Lewis deals with the cod-Handel recitative
of A maiden fair to see – real deadpan charm. Baker’s
dynamics and personable command shine from every note of I
am the monarch of the sea and by virtue of acutely graded
dynamics and excellent ensemble the whole thing moves with great
wit and entrenched musical values. Brannigan’s role is a small
one but he fills its boots to overflowing – as did Donald Adams
in a contemporaneous set for the D’Oyly Carte company under
Godfrey on Decca. I’ve always found some of the scoring for
Trial by Jury – with which H.M.S. Pinafore is coupled – to be
Anglo-Dvořákian. If you doubt me give a listen to the bustle
of the opening scene Hark, the hour of ten is sounding and
though it’s an early work of course dating from 1875 The
Bartered Bride had been written a decade or so earlier.
Brannigan scene steals once again, not least in his pomposo
interjections, Baker is excellent though his voice is not as
conventionally good as his colleagues’; the recording quality
is first class too. The Handelian chorus All hail great judge
doubtless raised a knowing smirk from those in the know – most
of the audience one would have assumed. Richard Lewis once
again shows his vocal and stylistic flexibility in his role
as the Defendant. And there’s ardour from Elsie Morison as Angelina
especially in her aria I love him. Once again this is
a first class production, though it needs to be acknowledged
that it’s from the opera-oratorio side of things rather than
the theatrical grease paint stage.
Geoffrey Toye –
remember his Delius recordings? -orchestrated the overture to
Ruddigore. This recording really has a great deal going
for it, preferable to the D’Oyly Carte with John Reed, Thomas
Round and their confreres. If you don’t mind a lack of dialogue
again, but a surfeit of superb characterisation and singing,
then this Sargent may yet be the set for you, despite its 1962
provenance. The chorus gives their all for the choral conductor
supreme. Baker, his voice past its best and certainly past its
bloom, still retains every ounce of its canniness and control.
His tongue twisting aria My eyes are fully open goes
with invincible swing though once again the tempo is tailored
for the performance. Sargent catches the élan and charm of the
score, etching such things as the hornpipe – in I shipp’d,
d’ye see, in a Revenue sloop – with practised command, not
pushing the tempi. There’s also some good ‘business’ in this
recording. Sometimes the crowd scenes in these Sargent productions
left a little of the gusto on the recording room floor but not
here. Go for Oh, why am I moody and sad? for exhibit
number one. For another try the spatial chorus separation in
Painted emblems, which works exceptionally well. The
Merchant of Venice suite is the bonus – its breezy Bourée is
always a tonic.
Expansive tempi
and a warm hued lyricism also mark out The Yeomen of the
Guard. Sargent’s symphonic assurance can also be gauged
by the immensely powerful weight with which he imbues the opening
of When our gallant Norman foes – he makes
it a real set piece quasi-symphonic statement. Richard Lewis
is typically elegant and fluid of voice as Fairfax and the chorus
is once more a real presence in the performance. The ensembles
and duets are very much up to the accepted standard. It’s clear
that Sargent sees the work quite richly and grandly so that
it doesn’t move as quickly on its pins as other, perhaps more
traditional performances. If you prefer the weightier way then
there is no finer way to experience it than here. That said
the stalwarts make their presence felt as well. Monica Sinclair
unleashes her flaring chest voice in Night has spread her
pall. Few more scary Dame Carruthers exist than the Dido-witch
Sinclair. Kudos too for the naturally balanced ensembles.
Operatic fig reappears
in Iolanthe. Sinclair – I know that not everyone will
appreciate the timbre of her voice – is an authoritative Queen
of the Fairies whilst John Cameron is warmly burnished as Strephon.
The chorus has clearly been instructed to pile on the old age
pensioners act as the Peers and their wildly obtrusive vibratos
certainly do add a cash-for-questions element to their role.
Meanwhile we have the laudable, incontestable George Baker riding
the crest of a Sullivan fugue in The Law is the true embodiment.
He shows just how things should be done – and so indeed
does Sargent – in When I went to the Bar, which once
again, as anticipated, is taken steadily. Replacing Richard
Lewis we have Alexander Young who is an eminently fine replacement
as his singing of Of all the young ladies demonstrates.
Brannigan is Private Willis and he unleashes a torrent of nobility
in his Act II aria When all night long a chap remains. Ian
Wallace thumps the tub in his florid When Britain
really ruled the waves. There are some glamorous, outsize
performances in this set. Once again ensembles are beyond reproach.
The Overture di Ballo is a BBC/Sargent performance.
The Mikado is
another good performance though here one might find that the
comic elements are a little subdued within the framework of
big band operatic style. Certainly the old regulars are here
– you really couldn’t cast it better using voices of this type
– and the ensemble and duet work, as well as the choral singing
and the orchestral playing is first class. Richard Lewis’s innate
lyricism is the forte in Were you not to Ko-Ko plight and
Monica Sinclair once again does her ‘Wild Women and Witches’
act as Katisha – Your revels cease duly froze the blood
in these veins. Elsie Morison does well by The Sun whose
rays are all ablaze and Geraint Evans is mellifluous though
not especially witty in On a tree by a river. Ian Wallace
is on especially good form as Pooh-Bah. You won’t go too far
astray with this particular set, certainly not individual and
collective vocal strengths, but you will find more incisive
comedy elsewhere.
All these performance
are to be found in the standard two disc sets. No libretti –
but you surely won’t need one.
Jonathan Woolf
EMI CLASSICS FOR
PLEASURE 2134332 [57:38 + 53:21] 
