The Pirates of Penzance (MasterVoices)

By Harry Forbes

Gilbert & Sullivan’s ever popular comic opera was the second foray into the fabled duo’s work from the Collegiate Chorale (now known as MasterVoices). “The Mikado” in 2012 had been altogether superb, with maestro Ted Sperling’s impeccable musicianship leading the estimable Orchestra of St. Luke’s, a cast of solid Broadway pros with classical chops, and of course, the splendid Chorale itself. Together, they breathed fresh life into the venerable warhorse.

“The Pirates of Penzance” boasted many of the same virtues. Once again, Sperling’s musical finesse was unimpeachable, and he led the orchestra from the City Center pit, rather than onstage when at the Chorale’s regular Carnegie Hall venue. The overture, finely controlled, and building to its climax beautifully, got things off to a classy start.

The curtain rose to reveal the massive Chorale on their multi-tiered bleachers, while the costumed principals cavorted in front of them in a semi-staged presentation. Unlike Encores, which occupies the same stage, though, many in the cast were clingingly dependent on their books, and even so, went up on their lines far more than in past productions.

When casting was first announced, chief interest revolved around Deborah Voigt’s appearance as Ruth, and I’m happy to report she did a solid job, crisply articulating her lyrics and dialogue, showing her jolly comic skills, and of course, singing in fine style. She and the rest of the cast eschewed English accents which, in itself, was acceptable under these relatively informal circumstances.

Phillip Boykin who recently opened “On the Town” each night with his warmly sonorous “I Feel I’m Not out of Bed Yet,” was the Pirate King. Though he smartly lightened his bass voice, and sang pleasingly, this was not your traditional Pirate King, but one strictly in the zany Kevin Kline mode.

And indeed unfortunate remnants of Joseph Papp’s successful 1981 pop version, which starred Kline, kept cropping up here, a far cry from Mike Leigh’s recent immaculate staging at the English National Opera in London which utilized traditional costuming and absolutely pure classical singing bringing out the often underrated beauty of Sullivan’s music. And none of the comedy was shortchanged either.

Mabel and Frederic’s “Ah, Leave Me Not to Pine,” for instance, was particularly exquisite there, but considerably less so here in the hands of Julia Udine’s accomplished, if overly bright-toned soprano, and Hunter Parrish’s dramatically and vocally pallid Frederic played very much in the pop mode as performed by Rex Smith (and the other pop singers who followed) for Papp.

The excellent Betsy Wolfe and Montego Glover were directed to give Mabel’s sisters Edith and Kate that same contemporary edge, Wolfe had several intentionally strident moments which were more irritating than funny.

Still, Udine’s coloratura showpiece “Poor Wandering One” was quite accomplished vocally, even as the direction (by Sterling) poked fun at the operatic excesses. (Frederic covered his ears in mock discomfort at one point.)

The hugely talent Douglas Hodge, whose directorial talents are currently on view in Harold Pinter’s “Old Times” at the Roundabout, was a predictably accomplished Major General, playing with an almost Frank Morgan-like sense of befuddlement at the absurdity of some of the words he was singing, as he spoke/sang his signature patter song.

Another definite plus was David Garrison’s Sergeant of Police, a role he actually played in the Papp production, and sounding remarkably unchanged after all these years. Zachary James was a fine Samuel in a mostly traditional mode.

The grand “Hail, Poetry” chorus rang forth gloriously with the MasterVoices really showing their mettle, as they also did in the first act finale and the other big choral moments.

Much of the stage blocking and movement (Gustavo Zajac was choreographer) was amusing and original, but some over-the-top, and again, too derivative of Papp. Though the production was visually spare, David Korins designed a nice playing area. Frances Aronson’s lighting was ever helpful in delineating the action, and costume “consultant” Tracy Christensen’s contributions were traditionally eye pleasing.

The audience rewarded the performance I attended (the second of two) with warm applause and a standing ovation, so for all my quibbles, it must be reported that a good time was had by all.

The performances were dedicated to the late actor Roger Rees, who frequently lent his directorial savvy to MasterVoices performances, a very nice and deserved touch.

(MasterVoices, New York City Center, 131 W. 55th Street; NYCityCenter.org; October 15 and 16 only)

Photo: Eric Baiano

The Gin Game (Golden Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

What a pleasure to see stars James Earl Jones and Cicely Tyson operating at the top of their nuanced, comedic and altogether endearing game!

Casting them as the alienated-from-society nursing home loners in D.L. Coburn’s 1977’s Pulitzer winner – the first Broadway revival since Julie Harris and Charles Durning in 1997 – was, as it turns out, a masterstroke. This is, as they say, a star vehicle, and these two consummate pros more than fit the bill, as cannily directed by Leonard Foglia.

Fonsea (Tyson) enters the play in tears, though we don’t really understand her issues till later in the play. She meets grumpy long-time resident Weller (Jones) on the porch, and soon reveals she has diabetes, while he quips that he’s merely suffering from the malady known as extreme old age. Weller convinces the disingenuously reticent Fonsea to join him in a hand of gin rummy.

Though she claims ignorance of the game, she beats him at the game straightaway, and then proceeds to do so again and again during the course of the play. Her easy triumphs unleash Weller’s not inconsiderable temper, a pattern that runs through all their subsequent games. Fonsia will say she’s had enough, and then relent for another hand. Throughout all of this, they share their backgrounds, nurture a growing fondness (which peaks when Fonsia persuades him to join her in a brief dance), and fight like the dickens, while the sad reality of their respective situations comes to light.

Jones’s Weller is all grumpy bluster, but he shows us the compassionate side that coexists with the volcanic outbursts. Tyson’s Fonsea is smart as a whip, and cute as all get-out, but reveals the vulnerability and pain beneath the assured demeanor. Tyson’s easy-going victories at cards are a non-stop delight, as is Jones’ escalating incredulity and raging temper.

Much has been made of the stars’ ages – Tyson (90) and Jones (84) -- but their performances are, in fact, as vigorous as any, and they deliver their copious dialogue sharply, no mean feat, since each hand of gin is so very similar to the one that comes before it. David Van Tieghem’s sound design is clean and natural.

You can still see Jessica Tandy and Hume Cronyn’s indelible original performances on YouTube in a fuzzy black and white print. And it's clear that Jones and Tyson more than live up to those legendary creators.

Riccardo Hernandez has designed a characterful cluttered porch setting strewn with old furniture, wheelchairs, and the like (along with the stars’ very apt costumes), and it’s been warmly lighted by Jules Fisher + Peggy Eisenhauer.

(Golden Theater, 252 West 45th Street; 212-239-6200 or 800-447-7400 or Telecharge.com)

Old Times (Roundabout Theatre Company)

By Harry Forbes

The high-tech, abstract setting designed by Christine Jones (and lighted in kind by Japhy Weideman) to frame the latest revival of Harold Pinter’s 1971 puzzler is visually striking, to be sure, but rather off-putting, too. The action plays out against giant cyclorama of concentric circles and there’s also a slab of ice, some jolting strobes, and an unworldly score by Thom Yorke.

Still, none of these extraneous touches detract from three really superb performances from Clive Owen (in his Broadway debut), Eve Best, and Kelly Reilly, all of whom make this production so worth seeing.

Owen and Reilly are Deeley and Kate, a married couple living in a remote farmhouse. They await the arrival of Kate’s former roommate (Best) from years before. The macho, increasingly menacing Deeley questions the nature of the women's friendship, but the passive Kate’s answers are frustratingly enigmatic.

Soon the glamorous Anna appears (stylishly bedecked in Constance Hoffman’s duds). Incidents from the past – which emerge in contradictory versions – are explored, as Deeley and Anne soon seem to be vying for Kate in a kinky power play.

It's soon apparent that Pinter is playing his usual tricks, and the facts will remain elusive. Has Anna, in fact, died, and is this all an illusion? After all, we see her onstage even before she actually arrives with a torrent of words. Identities are so blurred, we are even led to wonder if Anna and Kate might perhaps be two sides of the same person?

I can’t say I remember the nuances of the original Broadway production (with its stellar cast of Robert Shaw, Rosemary Harris, and Mary Ure), but the setting was certainly more conventional, and the delicious Pinteresque pauses were all characteristically in place. There seem to be far fewer of those now, a curious trend with recent Pinter mountings, including the recent Broadway revivals of “The Homecoming” and “No Man’s Land.” Perhaps it’s that streamlining that causes this production to clock in at a mere 65 minutes.

Still, as directed by actor Douglas Hodge – no slouch at playing Pinter himself (I recall an excellent “Caretaker” in London in which he starred) – the drama, however mysterious, grips.

(American Airlines Theatre, 227 West 42nd Street; 212-719-1300 or roundabouttheatre.org; through November 29)

Fool for Love (Manhattan Theatre Club)

By Harry Forbes

Nina Arianda and Sam Rockwell are perfectly matched as May and Eddie in Manhattan Theatre Club’s riveting revival of Sam Shepard’s 1983 play. (Director Daniel Aukin’s sharp production was first mounted by the Williamstown Theatre Festival last year.)

May is living in a bleak motel (astutely designed by Dane Laffrey) “on the edge of the Mojave Desert” when long-time cowboy lover Eddie returns with a trailer of horses out back. May wants no part of him, as she knows the tiresome pattern of Eddie’s abandonment will simply repeat itself. But Eddie persists and May waves between her new resolve and old passion. Adding to her resentment against Eddie is the (offstage) return of a vengeful lady known as The Countess with whom, May is certain, Eddie carried on an affair. May is waiting to be picked up for a date by good-natured if slow-on-the-uptake Martin (Tom Pelphrey) with whom she thinks she might just be able to start afresh. Observing the sordid action from the sidelines is a mysterious Old Man (Gordon Joseph Weiss) who exists in Eddie and May’s imagination but whose actual connection to the embattled couple is eventually revealed.

Justin Townsend’s harsh lighting perfectly complements Laffrey’s soulless room.

The galvanic Arianda (very sexy in a skin-tight red dress) and simmering Rockwell are perfectly cast in these mercurial parts, and deliver the requisite passion and heated arguments as the script dictates. Rockwell wields a mean lasso, too. They are finely supported by Pelphrey and Weiss.

I hadn’t actually encountered the play since the original New York production where I saw an excellent young Bruce Willis as Eddie, but Shepard’s dialogue for this modern-day Greek tragedy still crackles. The play runs 75 minutes without intermission, and grips from first moment to last.

(MTC’s Samuel J. Friedman Theatre, 261 West 47th Street; 212-239-6200, online by visiting www.Telecharge.com)

Spring Awakening (Brooks Atkinson Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

I must confess that I admired more than loved “Spring Awakening” in its 2007 Broadway premiere, and really didn’t care for Deaf West Theatre’s 2003 revival of “Big River.” So the prospect of Deaf West’s limited revival of Duncan Shiek and Steven Sater’s musical of version of Frank Wedekind’s 1891 expressionist play was less than a welcome prospect.

But how wrong my disinterest turned out to be! For this is a truly wondrous production, gorgeously staged by Michael Arden (and choreographed by Spencer Liff), and most feelingly acted and sung.

The combination of hearing and deaf actors is not only seamlessly executed but a brilliant dramatic device, and gives the work more texture than before. And despite the presence of so many deaf actors, “Spring Awakening” proves as rich an aural as it is a visual experience, thanks to an ingenious use of double casting, and the fine musical direction of Jared Stein.

The story charts the lives of the disaffected youth of Wedekind’s time, misunderstood at home, and stifled by a repressive environment in school. The four central characters are Wendla (Sandra Mae Frank), the sexually innocent daughter of Frau Bergmann (Camryn Manheim); Melchior (the hearing Austin P. McKenzie), the charismatic boy she falls in love with; Moritz (Daniel N. Durant), a troubled young man having difficulties with his studies; and Ilse (Krysta Rodriguez), an abused girl who now lives in an artist colony. The pregnancy resulting from Wendla and Melchior making love in a hayloft propels the second act to tragedy.

Wenda (played luminously by the deaf Frank), is spoken and sung by Katie Boeck who follows her like a caring (or, at times, critical) alter ego. But so compelling is Frank’s miming and signing and Boeck's voice that the performance, like all the others in the show, registers as one.

So, too, Durant plays his confusion most convincingly, and when Moritz must tell his father (Russell Harvard) that he has failed in school, the entire scene is played in silence using only sign language with the dialogue projected on a digital blackboard behind the stage. Powerful stuff. Elsewhere Moritz’s voice is articulated skillfully by Alex Boniello.

In other instances, it’s often difficult to see who’s speaking for whom, but the effect isn’t at all jarring or disconcerting. The hearing actors who double the deaf ones are as unobtrusive as the puppeteers in “War Horse.” After a while, one forgets they are there. And at key points, the deaf actors emit a guttural cry or some other sound that is dramatically apt and extremely poignant.

Patrick Page and Marlee Matlin excel in variety of other roles, he most prominently as one of the stern schoolmasters, she as Melchior’s mother.

Ben Stanton’s lighting is stunning, and Dane Laffrey’s multi-level set gives scope to the action. Laffrey also designed the first-rate costumes.

The program notes explain the plight of the deaf at that time in Germany and the ban on using sign language. Though this is not made part of the show's plot per se, the knowledge of this fact combined with the plight of the teens in the story adds undeniable resonance.

At the end, the audience gave a standing ovation, as much to show the deaf members of the cast their admiration as to acknowledge a genuine artistic triumph.

(Brooks Atkinson Theatre, 256 W. 47th St.; Ticketmaster.com or 877-250-2929; through January 24)

Cymbeline (The Public Theater’s Shakespeare in the Park)

By Harry Forbes

Though one of the lesser known plays of the Bard, “Cymbeline” proves a winner in Daniel Sullivan’s entertaining production now in its final week at the Delacorte.

Even if performances are relatively rare, the play is, I think, one of Shakespeare’s most interesting. I first encountered it in the excellent production in the BBC-PBS Shakespeare series back in the 1980s. Helen Mirren, at her most youthfully beautiful, was Imogen, the play’s central character (and daughter of the titular king).

Imogen’s husband Posthumus (here Hamish Linklater), an orphaned ward of the king, has been banished so that she’ll be forced to marry her scheming stepmother’s doltish son Cloten (also Linklater with a dopey blond wig). Exiled to Italy, the gullible Posthumus is made to think Imogen (Lily Rabe) has been unfaithful by the crafty Iachimo (Raul Esparza) who sneaks into Imogen’s room while she is sleeping, and takes inventory of both the room and Imogen’s partly clad body.

Upon hearing these details, Posthumus vengefully orders her murder, forcing the innocent princess to don male attire and take shelter with an elderly man Belarius (unfairly banished from Cymbeline’s court many years before) and his two sons (David Furr and Jacob Ming-Trent) who are actually the king’s children whom Belarius had kidnapped as infants, and lovingly raised as his own.

That TV production, and subsequent stage productions I’ve encountered, including an absorbing 1988 National Theatre mounting with Geraldine James and Tim Pigott-Smith (as Iachimo), took the play and its fantastical fairy tale elements quite seriously, and were all the better for it.

Sullivan’s production takes a much more lightweight approach, perhaps as befitting the Central Park summer crowd audience, but with an above average cast, many imaginative touches, engaging songs and incidental music, enough of the gravitas of the original remains to tug at the heart.

I do have one major reservation, however. Likable as Rabe is in many respects, and comfortable at speaking the Shakespearean text (albeit in a plainly American manner), I feel she misses the nobility and true purity of the character. Her delivery is far too worldly and sardonic, and at moments of high emotion, she can sound downright shrewish. Hamish Linklater rather overdoes the buffoonery as the conniving queen’s doltish son Cloten, but his interpretation is undeniably amusing. And he’s solid as Posthumus, impressing with his verbal dexterity in the speech where he rails against women after learning of Imogen’s supposed infidelity.

It’s unfortunate that the late scene wherein the god Jupiter and the spirits of Posthumus's mother and father intervene for him, has been cut, robbing his character of much of the necessary remorse and anguish over his rash deed. “She forgave him awfully fast,” one playgoer was heard to remark after the show.

Patrick Page makes a fine, well-spoken Cymbeline (not overindulging his plummy voice), and he does equally well as Posthumus’ benefactor Philario in the Roman scenes. Several others in the cast are similarly double-cast, none more spectacularly then Kate Burton who, besides playing the Queen, does a remarkable job as kindly old Belarius, grey beard and all. Steven Skybell is a very good, sympathetic Pisanio, faithful servant of Posthumus.

Raul Esparza is particularly outstanding as the oily villain, speaking the text so deftly and musically that you barely miss the traditional English accent. His lecherous ogling in Imogen’s bedchamber is superbly played.

Tom Kitt (“Next to Normal,” “If/Then”) has supplied very lovely incidental music as well as a handful of songs, including a Vegas-y opening number for Esparza, and a lovely setting of “Fear No More the Heat of the Sun” well sung by the excellent Furr and Ming-Trent.

Riccardo Hernandez’s set compliments the bucolic Central Park setting perfectly, David Zinn’s costumes are fine in the traditional manner (except for the Roman crowd), and David Lander’s lighting enhances both. Acme Sound Partners’ sonic design is wonderfully natural.

The play ends with some very crowd-pleasing choreography, courtesy of Mimi Lieber, which sends the audience home in jovial spirits.

(Delacorte Theater, enter at 81st Street and Central Park West; Free tickets are distributed, two per person -- age 5+ -- at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park beginning at 12:00 p.m. on the day of each performance. The Virtual Ticketing Lottery is available on the day of the show at www.publictheater.org; through August 23)

Kate Burton, Lily Rabe, and Hamish Linklater in The Public Theater’s Free Shakespeare in the Park production of Cymbeline, directed by Daniel Sullivan, at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park. Photo credit: Carol Rosegg.

Ohio Light Opera (37th Summer Season)

By Harry Forbes

Though an unfortunate scheduling conflict prevented my attending this delightful company’s second annual symposium as I did last year, I was, at least, able to catch the very last performances of all seven of this season’s productions, which proved to be a terrific wallow in the world of operetta and musical comedy.

The range of Ohio Light Opera (a veritable repertory company for the duration of the season) is really quite stunning, especially when one experiences all of the productions in close succession. OLO players effortlessly morph from ensemble to supporting character to lead and back again to ensemble, while several veterans take on multiple starring roles with extraordinary ease.

As is true in any rep situation, not every single role is a perfect fit in terms of physical makeup or personality, but more often than not, the match-up of player to part is uncannily good.

Add to this, admirably high musical values from a first-rate orchestra and a handful of fine conductors, excellent direction (often by OLO Artistic Director Steven Daigle), and handsome sets (Cassie King) and costumes (Stefanie Genda), and you have results far outclassing typical summer stock fare.

Respect for the original material is key, and OLO eschews adaptations and abridgements, making minimal nips and tucks where necessary for the resources of the company as, for instance, trimming some of the ballet music. Thus, this season’s production of “Can-Can” adhered to Abe Burrows' original book, unlike the recent Paper Mill production.

Audiences this year seemed to favor "Ruddigore," “Can-Can” and “Oh, Kay!” This last was George and Ira Gershwins’ 1926 musical which recently served very loosely as the basis for Broadway’s “Nice Work If You Can Get It.” With its Guy Bolton and P.G. Wodehouse book, the farcical story of Long Island bootleggers who turn a newlywed playboy’s life topsy-turvy was a fast-moving riot with the classic songs (“Someone to Watch Over Me,” “Clap Yo’ Hands,” “Maybe”) satisfyingly performed in period style.

The versatile Nathan Brian, a deft farceur and commanding vocalist, played the love-struck befuddled playboy, and Emily Hagens (an OLO newcomer) was a delightfully English Kay, the role originated by the great Gertrude Lawrence. Earlier in the day, Brian played the romantic hero of “Brigadoon” and Hagens was the heroine’s sister Jean whose wedding is the focal point of much of the action.

Other comic roles were smartly taken by Samus Haddad as Shorty McGee and Kyle Yampiro as Kay’s bootlegging brother, the Duke of Durham. The whole was finely directed by OLO mainstay Ted Christopher about whom more below.

The two Gilbert & Sullivan offerings this season were “The Yeomen of the Guard” and “Ruddigore.” Both were strongly cast, with the former, under the direction of Julie Wright Costa, packing a real dramatic wallop as Jack Point (poignantly played and strongly sung by Mr. Christopher) truly expired at the end (Gilbert’s stage direction indicates he merely “falls insensible”) as Elsie (Emily Nelson) weds her Colonel Fairfax (Clark Sturdevant). Nelson handled her vocal chores with ease including the escalating climax of “‘Tis Done! I Am a Bride!”, and tenor Sturdevant, an asset to many of the season’s productions, shone with crystalline perfection on “Is Life a Boon?” and “Free from His Fetters Grim.” Olivia Maughan was a particularly rich voiced and satisfying Phoebe, and her scenes with Brad Baron's likable Shadbolt amusing. J. Lynn Thompson conducted with fine style and appropriate gravitas.

If “Yeomen” shows off its immortal creators at their most serious-minded, “Ruddigore” – a spoof of Victorian melodrama – is one of their drollest creations, and OLO played the comedy to the hilt. I might even rate this production – cannily directed by Daigle and masterfully conducted by Steven Byess -- the best “Ruddigore” of my experience. Brian showed off yet another facet of his comic talents as farmer Robin Oakapple who tries vainly to disguise his true identity as a baronet of Ruddigore, duty bound to commit a crime a day. The chameleon-like Ted Christopher made a delicious Sir Despard, and Sarah Best mined every possible comic nuance from Mad Margaret. Tenor Stephen Faulk – another man of many faces and comic personas – was an amusingly conflicted Richard Dauntless, making the most of miming what his heart was ever “instructing him” to do. Julie Wright Costa’s formidable Dame Hannah and Brad Baron’s Sir Roderic were further comic and vocal pluses, and gave their “Little Flower” duet the requisite poignancy.

Katherine Polit – as self-centered Rose Maybud who makes nary a move without consulting her book of etiquette – captured the vanity and silliness of the character to perfection, and the next day, reappeared as Fiona, a tremendously appealing and warmly sympathetic Scottish lass, in “Brigadoon” opposite Brian’s full-throttle leading man role of Tommy. His “There But For You Go I” and “Almost Like Being in Love” – under Thompson’s assured baton -- were outstanding. Elsewhere, Faulk’s tenor rang out exuberantly on “I’ll Go Home with Bonnie Jean” and then tenderly on “Come to Me, Bend to Me.” Jacob Allen directed resourcefully, and if not all the casting was entirely apt, the whole was still greatly moving.

Cole Porter’s tune-filled 1953 “Can-Can” – derided by critics originally – continues to be revived thanks primarily to its hit parade of now-classic tunes (“C’est Magnifique,” “I Love Paris,” etc.). The book – centering on a new judge’s efforts to ban the then-notorious titular dance in 1893 Paris -- is admittedly rather ho-hum. But Christopher – who can do no wrong in whichever role in plays – was outstanding as Judge Forestier, and Faulk had his second most amusing role as the hopelessly mediocre Bulgarian artist Boris. His comic scenes were wonderful set pieces that earned warm applause and empathetic chuckles. As La Mome Pistache, proprietor of the Bal du Paradis cabaret, Sarah Best – the picture of a savvy Montmartre businesswoman -- sang those Cole Porter evergreens with creamy burgundy tone, if perforce lacking the high voltage star power of some of the great Broadway ladies who have played the part. Directed by Daigle and choreographed by Carol Hageman (including a Garden of Eden ballet), the show had the requisite Broadway pizzazz.

Incredibly, Best took on the title role in Kurt Weill’s “One Touch of Venus” that same evening, rather in the fashion of Callas’ legendary assumption of disparate Wagner and Bellini roles within a single week. As the goddess’ statue come to life, she cut a striking figure, sang “Speak Low” and “A Stranger Here Myself” stunningly, only perhaps falling short on some of the naïveté so essential to the role. Benjamin Krumreig, amusing in a non-singing comic role in “Oh, Kay!” demonstrated a gleaming tenor as barber Rodney Hatch on whom Venus develops a crush. Baron, though too youthful for art collector Whitelaw Savory, pulled it off. Weill’s characteristic score, including the somewhat jarringly grim “Dr. Crippen” number, sounded splendid under Byess’ baton. King’s Expressionist set fit the artistic setting, and Daigle’s direction only misfired near the end by eschewing the customary ending of the actress playing Venus (once again a statue) returning to Rodney in the guise of an ordinary young woman.

The rarest work this season was Franz Lehar’s soft-grained if ultimately touching “Friederike” (in the English-language translation of Adrian Ross and Harry S. Pepper used originally in London). Cassie King’s set was arguably the loveliest of the bunch as were, likewise, Charlene Gross’ 18th century costumes. This fictionalized story of an early romance between the poet Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and the daughter of a village parson was feelingly conducted by Wilson Sutherland, and directed in apt style by Daigle. Some passages for a boisterous male chorus and lighter numbers for the secondary couple aside, the overall impression was rather mild, even with such Lehar chestnuts as “Why Did You Kiss My Heart Awake?” and the oft-reprised “O Maiden, My Maiden.” Meagan Sill and Clark Sturdevant (the latter a more matinee idol Goethe certainly than creator Richard Tauber) handled the near-operatic score more than capably, and Gretchen Windt and Stephen Faulk did nicely as, respectively, the heroine’s sister and the lovelorn student with a crush on both young women. Still, it was wonderful to finally see the work, known here principally from recordings.

Despite no symposium, I was, at least, able to catch two entertaining and informative talks by OLO board chair Michael Miller who, together with his indefatigable wife Nan, had put the symposium together. One was a fascinating collection of operetta clips from film and TV; the other a talk on “Oh, Kay!” just before the performance. On Saturday, Daigle offered a pre-talk on “One Touch of Venus” and fielded questions from the packed lecture hall.

Lovers of musical theater won’t find a finer feast than here in Wooster, under the leadership of Executive Director Laura Neill. Solidly professional, loaded with bright young talent, comfortably in tune with the traditions of European operetta and Broadway, the experience continues to be eminently satisfying.

(The Ohio Light Opera, The College of Wooster, 1189 Beall Avenue, Wooster, OH; 330-263-2345 or ohiolightopera.org; through August 8)

Photos: (Top to bottom)
“Oh, Kay!”
(l.-r.) Nathan Brian, Jessamyn Anderson, & cast

“Oh, Kay!”
(l.-r.) Benjamin Krumreig, Emily Hagens, & Nathan Brian

"The Yeomen of the Guard"
(l.-r.) Brad Baron and Olivia Maughan

“Ruddigore”
Ted Christopher

“Brigadoon”
Stephen Faulk

“Can-Can”
Ensemble

“One Touch of Venus”
Sarah Best

“Friederike”
(l.-r.) Clark Sturdevant and Meagan Sill

All photos: Matt Dilyard