Sunday, March 16, 2025

"Patience" by The Gilbert and Sullivan Very Light Opera Company at the Conn Theater

Just when I think I've seen every Gilbert and Sullivan show, The Gilbert and Sullivan Very Light Opera Company (GSVLOC) introduces me to another silly delight. No, the number of comic operas that this pair created is not infinite, it's 14, but when GSVLOC only does one or two shows a year, it takes a while to cycle through the repertoire. In my ten years of attending GSVLOC shows (they've been around for over 40), I've seen nine different operas and only one repeat (although last fall's The McAdo was such a delightfully unique reworking of The Mikado as to almost feel like a different show). This spring's offering is the ridiculous and delicious Patience, which skewers the aesthetic movement of the late 19th Century. If you don't know what that is, no worries (think Oscar Wilde); the show is basically about the way we mere mortals worship artists and celebrities, to ridiculous extremes. Patience continues weekends through April 6, with a talented onstage cast and offstage orchestra, both too large to count.

In the first act we're introduced to a poet named Reginald Bunthorne (Sam Vinitsky), with "20 lovesick maidens" following him around and hanging on his every word, dressed in dusty pastel empire waist gowns with loose trailing sleeves, their Boticelli hair cascading down their backs. This is much to the dismay of a group of soldiers to whom the maidens were previously engaged, before they fell for the aesthetic. The only woman in town not under Bunthorne's spell is the dairy maid Patience (Mallory Rabehl, dressed like something out of a Swiss Miss ad), who in fact has never loved anyone (other than an aunt). But then she remembers a childhood playmate whom she loved, and what a coincidence - he shows up! But since Patience was told that real love is unselfish (and therefore is a sacrifice that brings no pleasure), she decides she cannot love this boy, who has grown up into the beautiful poet Archibald Grosvenor (Joe Allen). Instead, the true sacrifice of love would be to love the unpleasant Bunthorne. In Act II, the ladies have transferred their devotion from Bunthorne to Grosvenor, making the former jealous and the latter annoyed. More silliness and hijinks ensue, resulting in everyone being paired up with whom they should be.

Bunthorne (Sam Vinitsky), Patience (Mallory Rabehl),
and Grosvenor (Joe Allen, photo courtesy of GSVLOC)
Stage director Gary Briggle imbues the show with a feeling of frivolity and a tone of campy silliness that's a delight to witness. The entire cast is great and maintains this tone; I particularly love all of the fawning and fainting ladies posing with arms outstretched or hands delicately by their face. And the sound of dozens of voices singing a G&S score in an intimate space is truly thrilling. Music Director Randal A. Buikema directs the unseen orchestra with a full, rich sound. If you're looking for a classic musical experience in an intimate setting, GSVLOC is unmatched.

The set is relatively simple but quite beautiful (with dozens of singers onstage, no room for elaborate set pieces). The backdrops are gorgeously hand-painted by Wendy Waszut-Barret and look like watercolor paintings of spring, with four portraits like stained glass windows. Costumes include bright red uniforms with gold trim and two different kinds of hats, the poets' colorful velvety outfits (with wigs), and the maidens late change from their flowy almost nightgown-like dresses to the more prim and proper bustled skirts and hats of the time, their hair in neat buns (costume design by Barb Portinga).

Patience is a ridiculous, silly, delightful confection of a comic opera. A faithful presentation of a classic, but if you listen closely you may catch a few modern references. Gilbert and Sullivan were always about social commentary, and here the way that the maidens follow the poets around may remind you of our own celebrity culture and the power wielded by influencers, even when to the outside eye they are completely ridiculous.