Topsy Turvy

In the early 1880s, the backstage world of the Savoy Theatre hums with tension and ambition as the company gears up for a new wave of operas. The creative team and performers feel the pressure to deliver the house’s next lasting success.

On the opening night of Princess Ida in January 1884, the ailing Sir Arthur Sullivan barely reaches the stage to conduct before slipping away to the continent for rest. His kidney disease looms over the production and forces others to steer things in his absence.

With Sullivan away, the summer heat and dwindling audiences gnaw at ticket sales, and producer Richard D'Oyly Carte calls on Gilbert and Sullivan to conjure a fresh work for the Savoy.

When Ida closes without a ready successor, Carte revives an earlier Gilbert and Sullivan collaboration, The Sorcerer, to keep the house lively. The revamp buys the company time while the team crafts a new project.

Gilbert pitches a transformative magic lozenge as the centerpiece of the next operatic venture, but Sullivan balks, finding the idea mechanical and too dependent on supernatural devices. He longs for music that feels probable and centered on human beings.

The stalemate stretches as the summer wears on, until a turning point arrives after Gilbert and his wife attend a popular exhibition of Japanese arts and crafts in Knightsbridge. When a katana sword jolts from a wall in Gilbert's study, a spark of inspiration hits: a libretto set in exotic Japan.

Sullivan recognizes the seed of a fresh direction and agrees to compose the score for what becomes The Mikado. The trio—Gilbert, Sullivan, and Carte—begins shaping the project.

The backstage life comes into focus as the cast negotiates salaries over lunch, and Gilbert secures additional performers from the Japanese arts exhibition to guide the ladies’ chorus in walking and using fans in a distinctly Japanese style.

Costume fittings bustle under designer C. Wilhelm, and the ensemble grapples with the demands of the new setting as fittings and rehearsals proceed.

A point of contention arises over a cut to the title character’s Act Two solo, 'A more humane Mikado,' which the cast successfully persuades Gilbert to restore. The restored number helps preserve the intended emotional center of the opera.

The mood shifts from cautious experimentation to momentum as the show comes together, with the team refining both goings-on and choreography to fit the Japanese setting. Rehearsals intensify as opening approaches.

Behind the scenes, nerves run high as first-night jitters take hold in dressing rooms. Gilbert, ever the nervous one, finds himself pacing the streets rather than watching the premiere.

When Gilbert returns to the theatre, the opening night proves to be a resounding success, signaling a triumphant beginning for The Mikado. The collaboration among Gilbert, Sullivan, and Carte is celebrated as the engine behind the production.

The performances at the center of this tale are brought to life by a talented ensemble, including Salvador, Compadre, Renato, Natalia, and Mario, each embodied by their respective performers. Their artistry anchors a story about artistic struggle, inspiration born from unlikely sources, and the meticulous craft that turns bold ideas into a stageable, lasting success.

The Mikado’s creation marks a turning point in backstage life, proving that inspiration can come from unlikely sources and that careful craft turns bold ideas into a lasting success.