Darlene Geis (1917–1999)

I have an affection for old-school TV tie-in volumes, although this one doesn't especially sing.

By the early 1980s, the Gilbert & Sullivan operas were reaching their centenary, and seemed to be at a bit of a crossroads. After a century on the boards, the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company wrapped up in 1982 when the Thatcher government refused to help fund it; the costs of touring had increased as the profits had gone down. This felt like a landmark moment for the future of the operas themselves, show more but impressively the remainder of the 20th century would see a litany of professional productions, grand recordings of almost every work, analytical books, and indeed a few hundred amateur or pro-am companies around the English speaking world devoting themselves to the works. It might not have been the Golden Age but it was certainly a Silver one. In amongst it all, TV producer George Walker was caught by the bug of modern television production. The BBC was in the midst of a complete Shakespeare, David Attenborough had recently revolutionised documentary making, and this seems to have been the exact point for TV to achieve high culture in great volume. The costs and technology had considerably improved, yet there still was limited competition from pay TV or home media, and audiences still accepted productions in the studio as a legitimate means of storytelling.

So Walker managed to compile a working team that included the London Symphony Orchestra and Ambrosian Opera Chorus (impressively dubbed over the suitably visibly appealing 'chorus' cast members) alongside a range of performers ranging from established light opera singers to well-known comedic actors from both sides of the Atlantic. Twelve works were filmed, reflecting the vast bulk of the repertory, and shown on the US and the BBC gradually throughout the 1980s. Reactions from Savoyards varied: to my mind all of them are at least somewhat successful but the various experiments with video techniques and some casting choices are a bit on-the-nose. I actually think they're a marvelous record of the works even as we now live in an age where dozens of filmed theatre performances are available from both professional and amateur sources. It seems that the ratings in the US (on PBS) may not have been fantastic, as the final operas were ultimately held back for more than a year.

This coffee table book was designed to accompany the series. Unfortunately it's not much. The audience is, understandably, the unaware American who may need some guidance - and in that sense it has great merit. Each opera is given a brief overview of its creation followed by a detailed plot synopsis, illustrated with colour photographs from the productions. The plot summaries are sometimes a little vague, or indeed incorrect, and there's nothing else of worth to be found here. I'd be fascinated to read a warts-and-all narrative of the making of the works, but nothing is said regarding the productions themselves aside from cast lists. show less

I read this as a kid. I re-read it, a thousand times. I traced the illustrations. I memorized the questions. I practiced the pronunciations. It was one of my all-time classics.

The book that made me what I am today. (A dinosaur lover, filled with fun and awe.)

Childhood library, aged 9.