I STILL recall listening to a D’Oyly Carte gramophone recording of HMS Pinafore in Mr Bishop’s music class at Ilkley Secondary School. Such rousing chorus numbers as A British Tar, and, He is an Englishman, ensured Pinafore’s place in the school curriculum of the time.

Gilbert’s satire is really aimed at Victorian social attitudes which gave precedence to birth and station, above all else. In the endearing topsy-turvy world of Gilbert and Sullivan, Pinafore ends with Captain Corcoran and Able Seaman Ralph Rackstraw swapping places. This upset to the established order follows Little Buttercup’s sensational confession that the high born Rackstraw and the low born Corcoran were switched as babies. So Ralph is, by birthright, Captain of HMS Pinafore; Corcoran merely a member of the crew.

Pinafore was the celebrated partnership’s first international success and its popularity has never waned. Rachel Middle’s beautifully choreographed and traditionally costumed production fills the stage with sailors, and the sisters, cousins and aunts of Sir Joseph Porter KCB. James Hendry conducts the entire company with tremendous panache and an innate sense of pace.

Baritone Steven Page delivers a commanding performance as Captain Corcoran. I am the Captain of the Pinafore, Fair Moon to Thee I Sing, and Corcoran’s duet with Matthew Kellett’s scowling Dick Deadeye are suffused with velvety smoothness of tone.

Simon Butteriss returns to another of his favourite roles, that of gilded lordling Sir Joseph Porter, ruler of the Queen’s Navy. Sir Joseph’s famous song, When I was a Lad, was as clear as crystal. Erin Fflur gives a delightful cameo as Hebe, first cousin of Sir Joseph, whose repeated putdowns are met with the despairing response ‘Crushed again!’

Soprano Caroline Kennedy as Corcoran’s haughty daughter, Josephine, possesses the required coloratura quality for her dramatic scena The hours creep on apace, and Sorry her lot who loves too well. She is ably matched by David Menezes’ tonal purity as Ralph Rackstraw. Mezzo soprano Mae Heydorn brings sincerity and warmth to the role of Little Buttercup and a sense of schlock horror to her confession. The appreciative audience response to this closing performance of the Festival said it all.

by Geoffrey Mogridge