Sometime in early 1956, when I was in the ninth grade at JHS 125, I was walking in the hall outside the library with two classmates, Judy Bishin and Rita Zuckerman.  We were stopped by Mrs. Sullivan who asked us if we’d heard about the production of Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado which the school was going to produce that spring.

 

          I was familiar with the works of Gilbert & Sullivan, having listened to recordings of many of them on our family phonograph.  Immediately curious, we asked her for more information. Suddenly, she asked us to sing Three Blind Mice together.  We did, and she responded with, “I think you’d be perfect as the three little maids.”  And that was our audition and entrance into one of the most memorable experiences of my years in junior high school.

 

          I don’t know how everyone else was chosen for their parts, but I have to say that most of the casting was brilliant.   In particular, Paul Friedlander as Pish Tush, Vinnie Merola as the Mikado, Bosco Reyes as Koko, and a girl whose name I can’t remember, who played one of the hardest roles spectacularly, as Katisha. 

 

          Rehearsals began a few weeks later and dissolved into chaos pretty quickly.  It soon became apparent that Mrs. Sullivan, kind and well-intentioned as she may have been, she was not able to handle the complexities of pulling a group of about twenty-five twelve and thirteen-year-old kids together into anything even faintly resembling a functioning musical cast.

 

          Enter, stage right, another teacher whose name I’m ashamed to confess I can’t remember, who had the calm authority and talent necessary, and in a few short days, she had disentangled the confusion.  From then on, rehearsals were smooth and productive.  She worked with us in small and large groups, and individually as well.  There were duets, trios, solos, a few quartets, and many songs with strong choral parts. 

 

          Our new director handled it all with professional aplomb.  I’ve always wondered if she had a strong theater background because she managed to pull the best possible performances we were capable of out of all of us.  People who were not strong singers were taught how to talk their songs, all of us learned to project our voices so we could be clearly heard in the back of the auditorium, and in a few short months, we delivered two very creditable performances to jam-packed audiences.

 

          The next fall, when I was a sophomore at Bryant High School, I was invited with the rest of the cast to do an abbreviated version of The Mikado on a local television program, On the Carousel.  We met a few times to rehearse, and a few weeks later, we met at the CBS broadcasting station for our performance.  I remember how thrilled we all were to be made up by professional makeup artists, and the excitement of being on television.  I think most of us left some of our makeup on for the subway ride home.

 

          Later that school year, many of us reunited and were back in the auditorium at 125 to rejoice in the school’s spectacular production of “The Pirates of Penzance.”  Long live Gilbert and Sullivan!