Gilbert & Sullivan's
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Cast
Rudolph, Grand Duke of Pfennig Halbpfennig - John Perine
Ernest Dummkopf, a Theatrical Manager - Rick DuPuy Ludwig, his Leading Comedian - Guillaume Tourniaire Dr. Tannhäuser, a Notary - Philip McLeod The Prince of Monte Carlo - Blair Eig Herald - Tom Goode Viscount Mentone - Lyle Jaffe Ben Hashbaz - Don Mitchell Julia Jellicoe, an English Comedienne - Alexandra Boulé-Buckley Lisa, a Soubrette - Ann Coffman Baroness von Krakenfeldt, betrothed to Rudolph - Andrea Schewe The Princess of Monte Carlo, betrothed to Rudolph - Caroline Shaul Olga - Caroline Shaul Gretchen - Pamela Sears-Rogan Bertha - Marianna Martindale Elsa - Maureen Roult Martha - Debbie Peetz Orchestra
Violin 1 - Steve Natrella (CM), Bonnie Barrows, David Friedlander, Carolyn Larson
Violin 2 -Martin Brown, Peter Mignerey, Edwin Schneider, Naomi Zajic Viola - Amanda Laudwein, David Zajic Cello - Michael Stein, Laurie Brown, Sheryl Friedlander Bass - Pete Gallanis Flute - Jackie Miller, Louise Hill Oboe - Gwen Earle Clarinet - Laura Langbein, Laura Bornhoeft, James Bensinger Bassoon - John Hoven, Steve Rennings Horn - Joe Cross, Adam Watson, Lora Katz Trumpet - Curt Anstine, Les Elkins, Tom Gleason Trombone - Steve Ward, Frank Eliot, Al Potter Percussion - George Huttlin |
Production Staff
Producer - Denise Young
Assistant Music Director - Jenny Craley Bland Stage Manager - G. Stephen Stokes Choreographer - Kate Huntress-Reeve Set Design - Kate Huntress-Reeve. Dave Kaysen Scenic Artist - Rebecca Meushaw Costume Designer - Denise Young Lighting Designer - Peter Caress Make-Up & Hair Designer - Renee Silverstone Audition Pianist - Jenifer Craley Bland Rehearsal Pianist - Jenifer Craley Bland Master Carpenter - William Kolodrubetz Senior Carpenters - Peter Finkel, Pete Sylvia, Bill Wiesnewski Carpenters - Tony Dwyer, Les Elkins, Ernst Harmse, Dave Kaysen, James Douglass, Bill Rippey, Ray Caron, Dave Bradley Paint Consultant - Fran Levin Set Painting - Rand Huntzinger, Lyle Jaffe, Carlton Maryott, Tony Dwyer, Douglas Maryott, Jane Maryott, Ed Vilade, Alice Drew Props - Carlton & Jane Maryott Photography - Harvey Levine Program - Denise Young Surtitles - Douglas Maryott Graphic Design - Denise Young Publicity - Ed Vilade House Management - Jim Beckett Set Storage - Rockville Civic Center Special Thanks to: Fran Levin, City of Rockville, Holy Redeemer Catholic Church, and all those who helped who may have been inadvertently left out of the program. |
Director's Note
The Grand Duke is generally considered to be below the standard of the other Savoy operas. It is Gilbert’s worst work, “they” say, and Sullivan wasn’t at his best either. Poor last child of a failing creative partnership, its parents didn’t even give it the tweaking and polishing bestowed on all the others. They pushed it out of the nest and went their separate ways.
If this is the case, why is VLOC producing the piece, and don’t you have something better to do tonight?
No, as it happens, you don’t. As we’ve worked on The Grand Duke we’ve discovered it to be a lovely show, containing Sullivan’s sunniest and most touching tunes. Oh, well then, you say. What about Gilbert’s convoluted and incomprehensible plot?
The plot turns out to be the best part. As in their first collaboration, G&S crafted a story of actors running the government. But this plot differs from that of Thespis by being what author Gaydon Wren call “meta-theater” (that is, theater about theater) and when viewed in this way, all the so-called “oddities” in the libretto make perfect sense. Although the plot ostensibly concerns a theatrical company’s conspiracy to depose the Grand Duke, the piece is really about how theater works.
It’s about role-playing: the leading lady insists on marrying a man she doesn’t love, because the Grand Duchess, of course, is the leading role in the new regime. The head of a theatrical company fancies himself a Grand Duke.
It’s about gamesmanship: the statutory duel on which the plot hinges is a card game. One of the plot threads is resolved by another game. Ludwig and Lisa talk about doing the right thing as “playing the game.”
It’s about confusing the stage with real life: posts at Court are distributed according to each person’s position in the theater company. The prince of Monte Carlo arrives in rented attire, with six supernumeraries as his attendants. Ludwig covets the company’s new Troilus and Cressida costumes both for his wedding and for the new grand ducal court.
And it’s about satirizing the theater itself: Gilbert pokes fun at theatrical contrivances ranging from people who appear to have died, but didn’t, through strange accents and forced rhymes, to a nice tidy ending. Ernest Dummkopf’s aria, “The man who would rule a theatrical crew,” probably Gilbert’s most autobiographical lyric, bemoans the difficulty of keeping a group of temperamental actors working together. (I wonder how Richard D’Oyly Carte felt about the impresario in this show being named “Dummkopf?”)
It is for all these reasons that we have chosen to set our production in the 1930’s, that most self-consciously theatrical of decades.
Our wonderful cast has braved wind and snow to bring this piece to life. Our technical crew is beyond dedicated; neither snow nor sleet stay their hammering, painting, wiring, sewing, and props collecting. Jenny Bland, our accompanist, tickles the ivories until she must blow the smoke off her fingers. They all, and I, thank you for coming out tonight. Enjoy the show!
If this is the case, why is VLOC producing the piece, and don’t you have something better to do tonight?
No, as it happens, you don’t. As we’ve worked on The Grand Duke we’ve discovered it to be a lovely show, containing Sullivan’s sunniest and most touching tunes. Oh, well then, you say. What about Gilbert’s convoluted and incomprehensible plot?
The plot turns out to be the best part. As in their first collaboration, G&S crafted a story of actors running the government. But this plot differs from that of Thespis by being what author Gaydon Wren call “meta-theater” (that is, theater about theater) and when viewed in this way, all the so-called “oddities” in the libretto make perfect sense. Although the plot ostensibly concerns a theatrical company’s conspiracy to depose the Grand Duke, the piece is really about how theater works.
It’s about role-playing: the leading lady insists on marrying a man she doesn’t love, because the Grand Duchess, of course, is the leading role in the new regime. The head of a theatrical company fancies himself a Grand Duke.
It’s about gamesmanship: the statutory duel on which the plot hinges is a card game. One of the plot threads is resolved by another game. Ludwig and Lisa talk about doing the right thing as “playing the game.”
It’s about confusing the stage with real life: posts at Court are distributed according to each person’s position in the theater company. The prince of Monte Carlo arrives in rented attire, with six supernumeraries as his attendants. Ludwig covets the company’s new Troilus and Cressida costumes both for his wedding and for the new grand ducal court.
And it’s about satirizing the theater itself: Gilbert pokes fun at theatrical contrivances ranging from people who appear to have died, but didn’t, through strange accents and forced rhymes, to a nice tidy ending. Ernest Dummkopf’s aria, “The man who would rule a theatrical crew,” probably Gilbert’s most autobiographical lyric, bemoans the difficulty of keeping a group of temperamental actors working together. (I wonder how Richard D’Oyly Carte felt about the impresario in this show being named “Dummkopf?”)
It is for all these reasons that we have chosen to set our production in the 1930’s, that most self-consciously theatrical of decades.
Our wonderful cast has braved wind and snow to bring this piece to life. Our technical crew is beyond dedicated; neither snow nor sleet stay their hammering, painting, wiring, sewing, and props collecting. Jenny Bland, our accompanist, tickles the ivories until she must blow the smoke off her fingers. They all, and I, thank you for coming out tonight. Enjoy the show!
