A shift to the right at the Volksoper?
The production by the British duo Spymonkey, alias Aitor Basauri and Toby Park, manages the balancing act between exuberant slapstick and astute social commentary
A theatre performance featuring an ensemble in historical costumes. Several women wear colourful, voluminous dresses with hats, whilst a man stands on the right in a brown outfit. The backdrop shows a painted rocky landscape with sea and sky.
Oh dear, have we missed something? Not only has Markus Hinterhäuser been suspended as artistic director of the Salzburg Festival, but Lotte de Beer also appears to have been unceremoniously sacked as director of the Vienna Volksoper. At the premiere of The Pirates of Penzance, a new artistic director welcomes the audience and proudly reports on the theatre’s neo-conservative direction: “The wind has changed”!
The “lost sheep” who felt “left behind” by the woke director Pfuigack are to be brought back on board. For a production just like back then, interim director Robert Kitzler (played with complete credibility as a left-leaning right-wing suit by Marcel Mohab) has specially engaged two great-granddaughters of the creative duo.
Has Herbert Kickl taken over the chancellery and cultural affairs overnight? Nyet. The right-wing populist shift has merely been staged at the Volksoper as the (not entirely unrealistic) framing narrative of Gilbert & Sullivan’s 1879 hit. Responsible for adapting the classic by the British light-musical power couple is the equally British production team Spymonkey, namely Aitor Basauri and Toby Park.
Ever since Shakespeare and Monty Python, the world has known: the British can do theatre and satire like few other nations. Spymonkey can do both: the opulent hustle and bustle on stage (Julian Crouch) blends historically informed staging (the crests of the North Atlantic waves are still moved by hand!), contemporary satire (German text adaptation by Jennifer Gisela Weiss) and fascinating movement techniques such as a ballet of the air spirits (choreography: Gail Skrela) into an entertaining theatrical jamboree.
The stage is overflowing with ruffled skirts, sea creatures and sabres. The ruffled skirts belong to Major General Stanley’s 20 daughters, the sea creatures sit enthroned on the heads of the police choir, and the sabres belong to the pirates – who, in this case, are all women.
Two people in costume stand in a wooden rowing boat on stage. The backdrop depicts maritime scenes with waves and a cloth representing the sky. The setting has a theatrical feel.
Well, almost. For there is also the buccaneer apprentice Frederic, who discovers love through the beautiful Mabel Stanley (fiery: Nicole Chévalier) and faces all the bizarre twists of the libretto with Victorian duty. Timothy Fallon’s voice pours forth with fluid tenor gold, particularly in the duet with his nurse Ruth, here the Swiss aunt of Heidi (magnificent: Johanna Arrouas).
What is it about Fallon that makes one think of Dirk Bach? Exactly: his comedic force. Ideal for a piece in which every character is a caricature and all the action is parody. But the crown for the queen of offbeat slapstick goes to Petra Massey, who, as Sally Sullivan, is reminiscent of a Maria Hofstätter playing a hyperactive, nymphomaniacal version of Bridget Jones with Lilly Becker’s accent.
In contrast to the show on stage, Chloe Rooke opts for a more understated approach, allowing the Volksoper orchestra to perform with wonderful delicacy at the outset, with the oboe transporting the audience into the realms of poetry. The British conductor has little time for dull, ponderous marching music; the catchy melodies and operatic parody elements are presented with precision and sensitivity.
Lotte de Beer is no doubt also using this new production to ask her critics with a wink: Well, do you really want to go back to the good old days with neocons à la Kitzler? The interim boss and all-round oaf certainly emerges from the production relatively battered. So the real Artistic Director can certainly claim some of the exuberant applause for herself.
(Stefan Ender, 29 March 2026)