Comedy outshines music in "Patience"

"Patience" is not one of the more ubiquitous Gilbert and Sullivan operas. It has, in fact, been 12 years between Seattle Gilbert & Sullivan Society's last production of the work and the ebulliently comic but musically spotty new version playing through Saturday at the Bagley Wright Theatre.

In its 1881 debut, a London critic wrote, "The libretto of this opera teems with airy but incisive satire upon a fashionable craze of the day."

The "fashionable craze" was a showy British aestheticism represented by such artists as the effete man of letters Oscar Wilde, the painter James Whistler and the poet Algernon Swinburne.

All received a merciless ribbing from W.S. Gilbert, whose choice libretto for "Patience" summons ethereal female acolytes smitten with a pair of obnoxious poets, Bunthorne, played by Dave Ross, and Grosvenor (John Brookes). Also on hand: a regiment of jealous Royal Dragoons and a spunky milkmaid heroine, Patience (Cristina Villareale).

In Christine Goff's gag-rich staging, the "Twenty lovesick maidens we" (actually, we see 15) waft about in flowing garb, proclaiming their love for these ungrateful idols.

Adorned in green velvet knickers, Ross' Bunthorne is an aptly absurd object of their ardor (if not as "fleshy" as the lyrics suggest). Brookes' prancing narcissist Grosvenor is even sillier: a simp with Prince Valiant hair.

Both actors handle the comedy better than their musical chores. The several admirable singing voices here belong to women.

Chief among them is Villareale, whose bright soprano complements her fetching earthiness. She solos with distinction on "I cannot tell what this love may be" and the sole serious ballad, "Love is a plaintive song."

She also duets charmingly on "Long years ago, fourteen maybe" with winning alto L. Tessa Studebaker.

And contralto Alyce Rogers is a stitch as the morbidly devoted Lady Jane, an older groupie with the fashion sense of Morticia Addams. Rogers' near-Wagnerian delivery of "Sad is that woman's lot," while clutching a stand-up bass, is a high point.

Graced with fine costuming by Carl Bronsdon, and a clever, eye-catching revolving set designed by Nathan Rodda, "Patience" has good looks and high spirits.

One only wishes Sullivan's artful score, with its deliberate echoes of Rossini, was getting a more muscular performance from the pit orchestra. And that the main male singers weren't merely able to rip through the tongue-twisting patter tunes, but also make Gilbert's brilliant rhyming lyrics intelligible.

As for Oscar Wilde, he clearly did not mind the attention "Patience" brought him — even by way of parody. He even got a little quid pro quo out of it: To hype the opera's New York run, "Patience" producer Richard D'Oyly Carte underwrote Wilde's famous 1882 lecture tour of the U.S.

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com