Mayhem! Makeup! Mikado!

Have you ever heard of Gilbert and Sullivan's acclaimed work The Mikado? Well, I had certainly heard of it, but I was never privy to actually seeing it performed...let alone performing in it myself.

It seems audiences today are divided on the production and, as the Seattle Gilbert and Sullivan Society put it, “Modern audiences object to white actors wearing makeup to appear Asian, a practice seen as racist and exclusionary.”

Well, that is a shame...because this operetta—the lyrics, the characterizations, the staging—had audience members at the Lewis Auditorium absolutely HOWLING with laughter. And I am not exaggerating.

This cleverly conceived production was directed AND choreographed by Nelson Sheeley, who also updated portions of the libretto with references to what is going on in the world today. It made this absurd comedy a complete audience pleaser.

The cast was outstanding, with performers brought in from all over the U.S. of A. When I found out I was going to be part of the production, my husband had me watch old clips of Groucho Marx performing the title role in an old black-and-white version—you can still find it on YouTube.

Well, not to be outdone, First Coast Opera had Curt Tucker portraying the role, and he was BRILLIANT. Usually when you rehearse something over and over, what made you laugh the first few times eventually becomes second nature. Not with him. Right up until curtain, I still found him hysterically entertaining. He completely captured that role.

Jason Whitfield, as The Mikado himself, was also hysterical in the role—so definitive and serious in the middle of all this madcap comedy.

And what did I do in this production, you may ask?

Not much, I will answer.

Actually, it took longer for hair and wardrobe to get me ready for each performance than the amount of time I spent onstage.

I was the only one who didn’t sing opera. Yes, yes, I sing...but not opera.

Honestly, I really don’t know WHAT I was, but I enjoyed every minute of it!

I was “the” servant, taking chairs and axes—not exes—from everyone, either bringing them their props or taking them away. And of course, I made up an entire scenario and backstory for myself.

I included a picture from the opening of Act Two where I am preparing Yum-Yum, perfectly played by Rachel Querreveld.

Every actor has to create a motivation for themselves, right?

Well, I have NEVER applied anything to anybody’s face in my life...EVER. But you know how you walk into department stores—not Ulta, the old-school department stores with those endless makeup counters—and those personalities somehow lure you in and insist on spraying you or showing you the latest miracle product?

Out of all of them, I have always found the Estee Lauder consultants especially talented at finding me. Let me rephrase that...they somehow always find ME.

They are personable, enthusiastic, and they absolutely know their stuff.

So when that curtain opened, with the orchestra sitting right below my knee, I perked up and became the Estee Lauder consultant of The Mikado.

I had such enthusiasm that I actually received comments afterward about how much I looked like I was enjoying myself on stage.

The production was a HUGE success!

And when they say “the show must go on,” they really were not kidding during our final Sunday matinee.

The night before, several of the lead performers walked down famous St. George Street in St. Augustine and stopped at a longtime taco restaurant. Everyone ordered tacos.

Unfortunately, one of them—thankfully not all of them—became EXTREMELY ill afterward.

As I mentioned, these were principal performers. Had all of them gotten sick, and with no understudies available, the matinee probably would not have happened.

But this performer showed what the word “trooper” really means.

Outside the dressing room they had stacked pillows and blankets so the poor thing could lie down between scenes...along with strategically placed waste baskets because they were running a fever and terribly sick. I felt absolutely awful for them.

AND...I’m still not finished.

One of the dressers’ husbands suddenly collapsed backstage. Our stage manager handled it so calmly that many of us thought the performer suffering from food poisoning had taken another turn for the worse.

Nope.

It was actually an ambulance arriving backstage with oxygen and a stretcher to take him to the hospital. Thankfully, he later underwent surgery and is now doing just fine.

AND...another principal performer, who had NOT gone to the taco restaurant, had recently started a medication that was not agreeing with him at all...which was unfortunate because his role required him to do a great deal of rolling around on the floor.

But he did it!

Well, THAT was the backstage story of our final performance of The Mikado. And if ever there was a production that proved “the show must go on,” this one ranks right up there.